17th December 1999

By way of introduction, I've decided not to list with a few conjunctions the usual yawn inducing details of my life which are required in polite chit-chat upon first meeting people (eg. name, age, hobbies, desires to usurp the fantasy realm of Sunset Beach or similar, if only for one espisode...just think of the limitless havoc one could create; first I'd slap Maria with a big wet fish and blame it on Meg - believe me, even though she would have seen me in front of her when said slap took place, I'm sure it won't take too long to convince her that it may have been my face she saw but that it was actually Meg's hands which were holding the fish. She'd be so confused; but then, that's a good look for her and so I'm sure she'd be grateful. Then, I'd take out a full page article in Gregory's newpaper showing just how similar Riccardo is to a monkey and thus expose Madame Carmen's dark past in beastiality while simultaneously throwing into confusion Father Antonio's true heritage...let's face it, Father Extremely-Fit-and-Gorgeous cannot possibly be related -even remotely - to the half-witted, gorilla-faced family the producers of Sunset Beach have haphazardly selected as his kin ...ooooh, but I have gone off on a bit of a tangent, haven't I? Oh, must stop it at once with a full stop or else it's not impossible that this twattle could go on and on and on. There, a most effective full stop). Now, where was I really? Ah yes, instead of the common self-introduction, I've decided to share with you all an unexpected experience which happened during my year in Japan in 1997-1998. Actually, the story I'm about to disclose could be mistaken for a fantastically bad soap opera plot, but I swear on my life - sort of - that, unusual for me, I am not going to indulge in any elaboration of the truth. Honest gov'ner, it's 100% genuine.

My good friend, Puss-in-Boots, and I were taking a short-cut through a park in Tokyo on our way to a particular restaurant we'd heard did great imitation meat and vegetable dishes, when we got lost. It was inevitable that we would do just that as we didn't really have any idea of the exact location of this restaurant but knew that it was somewhere near the station. Not sure which direction to turn after exiting the station, we spied with our little eyes this luciously leafy green park which, after living for three months in a concrete and neon jungle, seemed so overwhelmingly alluring that we convinced ourselves that if we strolled right through the park, Divine Provinence would ensure that we would exit the park just opposite our ultimate destination. But, the illusive Ms Provinence being no friend of ours, that little misguided and poorly founded assumption is neither here nor there anymore. The point is that, the course of events on that day ran that we found ourselves standing dumbly before an oversized and unnecessarily confusing map of the park, suddenly realising that we had no idea why we were in an unfamiliar part of town looking for an imitation meat and veg restaurant ("Wait a sec, why do we want to eat fake food? Point? Could there possibly be one?" Confusing, yes, but this isn't the unbelievable part of the story. Read on for that:). So, there we were, dazed and confused (Maria -style), staring helplessly at this indecipherable (loosely used word alert:) 'sign' when these two Japanese kids (a guy and a gal), the same age as us, who had also been loitering near the 'sign' sporting equally as confused facial expressions as we were, approached us and struck up a conversation. Ah...kindred confused-and- lost-in-the-park spirits, how can we help you?

"Are you two Japanese?" the Japanese girl asked us tentatively. Okay, so they weren't lost in the park, but they raised a valid and not such an odd question under the circumstances, as Puss is half Japanese and I'm half Chinese (you understand now how easy it was for us to get lost in a park as together we don't even add up to a whole). We explained, in dubious Japanese, our lineage and that we were exchange students from London, which was greeted by the "Oooos" and "Ahhhhhs" customary when mentioning The University of London in the presence of Japanese people. The conversation continued from there: it transpired that they were students too and when we asked what they were studying our limited Japanese grasped that they were studying the left and the right sides of the brain. Ah, MEDICAL STUDENTS, we thought, how cool. We talked and laughed for ages and they helped us find our way out of the park and directed us to the imitation meat and veg restaurant. Our heroes the Medical Students!! They saved us without having to operate! What wonderful doctors they will be! Puss and I were both delighted when, before we said goodbye to them, they suggested that we all exchange mobile numbers and meet up again one evening.

That evening was to be very soon as the He Med Student rang the very next day (not only excellent carers, but efficient and sincere too) and we all arranged to meet at 7pm on the following Saturday. Saturday rolled around quickly and Puss had been saying how nice it would be to meet the Medics again and how beneficial it would be to our Japanese as the Medics claimed to speak no English at all. Well, you can imagine my shock when at 5 o'clock on Saturday night, just as I was preening myself for the evening out, Puss rang me on my little mobile and announced that she had decided to have a night in with the old school books in lieu of a night out with our new accquaintances. What? WHAT? What about "Oh, they seem so nice" and "it'd be lovely to make friends outside of uni - everyone there just wants to practice their English"? EH? She had no real excuse but, then again, Puss is the same Pussycat who thinks that the fact that having to do such a thing as wash her hands is a valid excuse for turning down invitations at the very last second (I swear that she has genuinely been known to sigh as if she were truly sorrowful: "Oh, I really was looking forward to it but I've just remembered that I have to wash my hand when I get home and so I don't think that I'll be able to make it". NB: "hand" is not a typing error, nor have I mistaken the word for "hair". She says "hand", singular, meaning the thing with five fingers attached to the end of her arm). No amount of persuasion or pouting ( and I'm great at pouting, even over the phone, which is quite a skill, I think. If it were an Olympic sport I'd be champion. The secret's in the lower lip protusion coupled with the correct degree of tilting the head forward while narrowing the eyes. Sometimes, a slight creasing of the brow may be employed but only in very special circumstances. It's an effective and versitile technique, handy in many-a situation, but anyway, this talk of pouting is just part of an extra bit of infomation contained within parenthesis, and not a whole lecture series and so I'll suspend the topic for now and fold it away neatly for another day). Anyway, no amount of fantastic pouting on my part was going to sway her decision. All too obviously gleeful that I had finally accepted that she wasn't going to turn up, she hung up saying, "You go anyway, it'll be fun and besides it's too late for us both to cancel now". Cheeky rotten Puss. Then, suddenly, realisation struck: I would be meeting them alone. That notion unsettled me somewhat. Afterall, what did we really know about them? What if the conversation dried up? What if they really only wanted to meet Puss again? Afterall, she had done most of the talking that day in the park. Oh anguish, anguish AHGUISH!! What an awkward night it was going to be. Curse you Puss!!! Curse you, curse you to hell and back again...that's it, you're off my Christmas list.......Thinking such childishly evil things, a lightbulb appeared above my head alerting me to the fact that I did have other friends who might want to come along. Flicking through my mental roladex, I gave my pal Sunny G a buzz. Rats! He was already previously spoken for that evening. But, he gave me a great pep talk, California-style: "You should just go anyway. Aren't you being just a bit irrational? Sure you don't know them now but that's why you're meeting them tonight. If you like, I'll ring you at 9 and if you're having a bad time then just tell them that I'm your host mom and that you have to go home straight away and then you can leave them and come and meet me in Shinjuku. Okay? C'mon, what's the worst that's going to happen? This is Japan...it's not like they're going to brainwash you or anything". That final sentence clinched it. Silly-billy, dum-dum me! Of course I should go. W ith that, off I skipped, jumped and hopped to Shibuya to meet them.

He Medic and She Medic were already there when I arrived at our meeting place and we went straight off for coffee. The conversation flowed as did the jokes and generally, a good time was had by all. How ridiculous of me to have doubted if I should have met them or not, I reflected several times throughout the evening, mentally blowing raspberries at lazy Puss-Puss staying at home pretending to study. We vacated the coffee house and the She Medic suggested that we go to their dormitary which was near by. We walked though a series of small winding backroads which I'd never encountered before, still chatting lively about the latest songs in the charts and which songs we liked singing at karaoke best. (Incidently, I liked doing a rendiditon of - don't groan or disparage me for this...hear my explanation, I beseech you - "Wannabe" by the Spicey Ones at one particular karaoke place in Shibuya because, for some unknown reason, they have got the lyrics amazingly wrong: "We've got M on a plate who eats like Grace, G likes MG who is a bee, Queen doesn't flee from Me, She's a real MD..." I know that the real words don't make much sense either, but who'd believe that a Spice Girl could be an MD, unless it was MD of promoting worldwide awareness of what could happen when you've got too much money and not an ounce of taste, Victoria...Oooooh! Back in the knife draw, Miss Sharp! )

We reached their dorm which looked more like a five star hotel than a student halls of residence. Wow! Japan's great, I commented. Our dorm in London was pants compared to this place. A petite, even by Japanese standards, woman dressed in a silk kimono greeted us at the door with a slight bow and I marveled at how vastly different the cultures of Britain and Japan were. The foyer of the dorm was not unsimilar to that of a grand hotel; numerous groups of sofas and low glass coffee tables were arranged in the area just after the reception desk. Low wattage lighting created a serene ambiance as did the hints of the bearly audible tranquil music which was playing over the audio system. We sat down around one of the coffee tables on the voluptous and inviting sofas and the petite kimono-clad woman brought us a tray of green tea. Wow! You'd never catch Steve, the security guard in my dorm in London, even smiling at anyone let alone bringing us tea!! Japan's amazing and should be a functioning example for developed countries everywhere.

"Do you know what?", the He Medic grinned, leaning towards me.

"What?", I answered.

"If you want to send your true feelings to someone then you should do it using this technique". With that, he tucked his hands under his arms and flapped his elbows up while chanting, "Waku, waku, waku". Amused by the sight which had presented itself before me and grinning insanely because I had no idea what he was going on about, I began to laugh. I looked over at She Medic, who was nodding in accordance to He Medics unusual behaviour. Smiling kindly she began to imitate him. Dumb-struck, I laughed uneasily and glanced around the room. Other groups of people who had been sitting around other tables were all staring at our table...also emulating the absurd flapping and chanting, "Waku, waku, waku, waku". Oh shit. OH SHIT! What's going on? Frantically, I looked around the room...beyond the sea of flapping chanters, I saw only two exits: one leading into the inner part of the building and the other was the front entrance we had come in by. A digital panel on the wall beside the smoked glass front doors indicated that a code was needed to exit the building. Fuckity fuck! How had I gotten myself into this?

My eyes betraying my sudden fear, I smiled hopelessly and meekly squeaked "waku waku" once, accompanied by the action. Strangely, despite my fear and shock and despite being in a room full of chicken wannabes, I feel self-conscious and stupid flapping my elbows up and down. The expressions of consentration on the wash of faces which were staring at me all broke into wide sparking white smiles of acceptance at this feeble attempt on my part. My table companions began to explain about their unusual exsistence in this dormitary; while my head nodded as if I were comprehending all that they said, consentrating on their words was the furthest thing from my mind. They flashed some leaflets in front of me which explained the aims of their 'religion'. Now it was my turn to "Ooo" and "Ahhh". Turning the pages, but taking in nothing of the content, I scanned the leaflets and told the Fake Medics that it all looked very interesting. I handed the most colourful leaflet back to them.

"No, no, you keep it and study it", She Fake Medic replied soothingly, pushing it back towards me.

"Reeeaally?", I gushed, "Thank you so much. I will read it later". I sounded over-grateful, as if she had just given me a Mercedes Benz or something. Fear does strange things to your senses; I was unable to control the tone of my voice. As always happens when nerves get the best of me, my voice became higher and higher with each word and, another sign that I'm nervous, I couldn't shut-up. Nerves make me ramble...if I really like someone, I can't stop talking...an inexhaustable stream of rubbish pours from my mouth and while my brain's emergeny button is flashing "SHUT DOWN" my mouth keeps moving and the words keep tumbling out as if it's on auto-pilot, which can't be tampered with until it reaches its preprogrammed destination. If I embarass myself I stupidly try to talk myself out of it. Inevitably, people just look blankly at me and I eventually excuse myself from the somewhat one-sided conversation mid-sentence and turn on my heals extremely red-faced and kicking myself for having no control what-so-ever on my own train of thought (or lack of it). But anyway, at this time, I was glad that I could keep talking as it kept these Fakers amused. Sounding sincere was too much to hope for, and so I aimed for at least bringing my voice back down to a pitch which was audible to humans and not just dogs. I put the leaflet in my bag as Fake He Medic and Fake She Medic glowed at the sight of their most recent "convert". After glancing knowingly at eachother, Fake He Medic turned to me and said,

"I'm really sorry, but I'll have to ask you for 100 yen (approx 50p) for that..."

Taken aback slightly by this, I mechanically handed over a 100 yen coin. Just a small amount to keep them amused while I plotted my escape; 50p seemed cheap in order to keep them on side and keep my life. I glanced around the room again. Some people were still watching our table and listening in while others were just chatting among themselves. When I turned my attention back to the table I was at, from out of nowhere, piles of hard and soft back books had appeared.

"We've got more books on our society, if you're interested..." Fake She Medic indicated to me to feel free to puruse the books in front of me. Mouth on overdrive again, I launched into what had seemed a stroke of genius on my part.

"Wow! So many interesting looking books. I really wish that I could read them - they certainly seem very informative and much better than the stuff they give me in school to read. It'd be so nice if I could read them. Oh, but they look so hard...and my Japanese is so bad and limited...I don't think that I'd be able to read them, even if I tried really hard. Even if I stayed up studying really late every night, I'd never get through them. I'm not really that clever, you see. Such difficult words...what does this one say?", I asked, pointing to a random word in the text. Fake He Medic leaned over my shoulder and pronounced the word for me. "Oh, I don't understand", I sighed. "What a pity I can't read it. What a pity there's no hope of me ever being able to read it. You know that Japanese is really hard for foreigners to learn...no-one ever really gets past the very basics. Well, only a few exceptional cases...but they're the clever ones who go to Oxford and Cambridge. Oh...these are so interesting looking though...I wish I could but...no... it's impossible. I'll just never be able to read and understand it. Thank you for letting me look at them though..."

I handed the book I had been feining interest in back to Fake She Medic, doing my best to look disappointed. "Well, if you can't read it, you can't read it...", she said, sounding sorry for me. The books disappeared as quickly as they had appeared. I felt relieved and congratulated myself for getting so smoothly out of having to buy something else. But the next thing I knew was:

"Oh, but luckily for you, there is this one!", exclaimed Fake He Medic, waving a book in front of my face. "It's in English and you did say that you really wanted to read more about us", he insisted, almost boring a hole in me with his menacingly forceful glare.

"Great", I muttered, kicking myself for even daring to think that my mindless patter had been useful for a change. If I get out of this alive, I thought, that'll teach me to learn to control my mouth. I took the book from him.

"That'll be 3000yen".

3000yen (approx £15) or my life? £15 or my life? Hmm...I didn't have to think too long about that tough decision. I handed over the cash and the penetrating stares of the Fakers relaxed and turned to smiles again.

The stuff about the left side of the brain and the right side of the brain started to be explained to me again but I was distracted by the sudden realisation that in the center of the room was a giant podium which people were wandering up to and placing their hands and their feet in the indicated positions, were theatrically zoning out in some sort of trance. Stupified that I hadn't noticed the imposing structure earlier, I asked what it was.

"That's the energizer", came my answer. "That's where we get our energy from above from. We also receive the word of Ten from there. He tells us what to do..."

This is Japan...they won't brainwash you...Sunny G's Californian drawl reverberated in my mind. Oh shit...OH SHIT!!! I'm never going home, am I? Where are the ruby slippers when I need them. They're going to brainwah me, aren't they. What'll I do? What can I do? What if they get violent if I try to leave? Why am I here? Oh yeah and while I'm asking so many questions,what is the meaning of life and will I be rich? Answers on a postcard to...

"Ten?", I stammered.

"Ten speaks to us through our leader and through the energizer. ten is the voice of Buddha and ancient Japanese priests, and Allah and Mohammed and Jesus...". Crikey, just add Elvis and we'll have a full house!

"Try the energizer, don't be shy!". Shitity shit. They do want to brainwash me. "Go on, just try it for a bit...". It was as if they were offering me coccaine. Just say NO, I urged myself. I was glad that something I had learnt from my parents had come to mind. It was somewhat comforting. If only I had listened to all they had taught me, I wouldn't have been sitting in the dormitary of fanatical cult-member brainwashing strangers in the first place. Mental note: don't speak to strangers, even if they offer you sweets or ask you if you want to see some kittens and always use the Green Cross Code.

"I'll try it some other time", I said casually. Phew! Thank God the mouth didn't rev up its engine.

"We all sleep together in one big room upstairs", the girl suddenly offered, and closely examined my face for shock. "Girls and boys, everyone tgether".

Okay...I don't want to know...I don't want to know!

"Do you know 'Beverly Hills, 90210'?", Fake He Medic asked. What? I was glad that the subject was being changed but was he really trying to chat to me about crap tv shows while I was trembling in my trainers? The most pressing question for me was whether or not they were connected to Ome Shinrikyo and did they keep a supply of suicide pills handy at all times and not, funnily enough, what their tv viewing habits were.

"Yes, I've seen it on TV", I replied. Usually this would have been a confession that wouldn't have been made under any circumstances, but I didn't give a toss about street-cred with these odd-bod who didn't even know if they were medical students or not. ('Oh yeah, actually, we don't study medicine. I'm not going to be a surgeon. I got confused for a second. When you said medical students, we thought you said fanatical cult members. Sorry...')

"Well", the boy declared, "I like it here because we are like 90201".

Oh yeah? Now what are they telling me? Is this a ploy to entice me to join? 'If you join us it'll be like living in LA in Tokyo'. As if things around you guys wasn't weird enough... Will I get a free clock-radio if I join today?

"I don't quite understand", I said.

"You see", he continued, "one day I can have one girlfriend and the next day I can have my friend's girlfriend and it doesn't matter! We all remain friends!"

TOO MUCH INFOMATION. PLEASE! I SIMPLY DON'T WANT TO KNOW ANYMORE. LET ME GO! HAVE MERCY!

Mercy came in the guise of a mobile phone call. Sunny G!! True to his Californian word.

"To do with brains and washing", I reminded him casually, smiling at my highjackers, unsure of how much English they understood.

"Right...I've a plan. This is what you do. Tell them I'm your host mom and that you have to go home right away because an overseas phonecall is going to come for you. Leave them and come and meet me in Shinjuku. OK?"

He Fake Medic and She Fake Medic exchanged looks again, like a silent dialogue. It was the longest poignant silence of my life to date. Were they going to pounce on me and throw me into the brainwasher or would they let me go...afterall, I didn't seem to be too keen on the 90210-style orgy, for some reason.

"Yes, we'll walk you to the station." I'M FREE! I'M FREE! I pracically ran to the door and started putting my shoes on. The people at the other tables looked up and She Fake Medic announced that I was leaving. A sea of faces floated up to me and people started shaking my hands, with wishes of Come back soon to visit us...how about next week?

I started to be pulled by the arms toward the energizer. I stuggled and stuttered that I'd leave it for next time...something to look forward to. They seemed satisfied for now with that. The door code was entered into the panel and I bounced out into the quiet street. FREEDOM!

Once off their territory, conversation returned to usual things and I wondered if they had been the ones who had just been telling me about not having to eat because they get energy from the universe as they asked me which doughnut was my favourite at Mr Donuts. They liked coffee rolls, it turned out. Good to know that there are doughnuts in the heavens. I wonder if you can order Pizza too through the energizer and if celestial delivery is faster than Dominoes. At the station entrance I tried to ditch them by starting my goodbyes, but they just waved their hands to hush me and bought tickets. What are they doing? Do they think they're coming home with me? It turned out that they just wanted to put me safely onto the train. We got to the platform and luckily there was a train about to depart. Good. A nice short farewell and then I'd never have to darken their energizer again.

I waved as the train door closed and and platform became a blur from the window. I almost fainted with relief. I giggled nervously all the way home, not quite able to believe what had happened that evening. Boy was Puss in for it. When I spoke to her about my ordeal, she divulged that she hadn't done any of her urgent studying (as I expected) and could only comment, "Well, I'm glad that I didn't go then". She spent the next two months in traction.

Write to: Natalie