A couple of things of late has made me notice just how behind the times Japanese can be. It's not like I didn't already know, but sometimes, even Japan can shock one desensitized to shock.

The first event was at a restaurant the other day. Not long after sitting down at the counter, a smartly-dressed 20-something woman came in, sat near me, and (of course, this is Japan) lit up a cigarette. I'm used to inconsiderate smokers in any country, and so it wasn't shocking that she ignored the fact that I was a mere five feet to one side, and a toddler and his dad were five feet to the other, and that no one else in the entire restaurant was smoking. It was her legal right, and so to her, that made it right.

Anyway, I moved away and ignored her, until I heard someone congratulate her, to which she smiled, patted her belly, and said “about four months, now.” Now, I'm sure that a lot of people do stupid things when they're pregnant, such as smoke and drink and do drugs and have anonymous unprotected sex, but I normally don't mingle in the circles where such people might be, so I was genuinely shocked.

When she lit up again later, I had to ask how she could do something so dangerous for her own child, to which she smiled between puffs and said “not everyone believes that.” I wanted to cry for the poor kid, getting stuck with a mother who is not only inconsiderate, but shockingly stupid.

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The other event had to do with an automotive test drive. Taking a test drive in America is pretty simple: just show a driver's licence, let them make a photocopy of it, and you're off. In Japan, it's even easier: just show up.

In initially shopping for a car a few years ago, we did a number of test drives, and was always in wonder how they just let me drive. Having just moved here, I don't even know whether we had a real phone yet. I know that I didn't have a Japanese driver's license yet, or even the alien registration card that would indicate I was here for a longer term than, say, a vacation.

We ran into the same thing the following year when looking for a second car. Often, they'd ask us for our contact information so that they could follow up later, but that's it. (Japanese car salesman can be very persistent; they'll travel all the way across town to drop additional sales literature into your mail slot the following day.)

So, fast forward to earlier this month when Fumie gets wind of an uber-cute car, a Peugeot 1007, and just had to try it.

Parking spaces can be really cramped in Japan, so the dual sliding doors are very appealing. Anyway, it turns out that they had a “24-hour test drive” kind of thing, where you can use the car for a day. That's a really excellent way to get to know a car, so we did it. The guy drove it from the dealership to our place (a 45-minute drive), the three of us drove around our area for a bit, then we dropped him off at a train station.

The shocking thing is that he knows nothing about us other than what we told him. He knows that we were waiting outside when he arrived at the address we gave him, and he knows that we respond when he addresses us with the name we told him, but that's it. He just let us drive off with a $20,000 car on the basis of a smile and a bow. This harks back to the time in America — a time I've heard of in countless country-music songs — where one's word and a handshake was all that was required in conducting business.

Yup, Japanese can sure be behind the times sometimes, in this case, for the better.

Car Epilogue

Fumie decided against getting the Peugeot because its funky “2-tronic” semi-automatic transmission really lurched when switching from first to second gear, and even I couldn't get it much smoother when trying in manual mode.

Then she heard about another cute car, a Lancia Musa. I'd never even heard of the maker, Lancia; it's apparently Fiat's higher-end brand. They're not officially sold in Japan, but some places import them. We took the occasion of seeing one today to take a pleasant drive two hours north through the mountains to the city of Fukui.

She also decided against this car, both because it also lurched a bit, and had a generally “cheap” feeling (not to mention not having sliding doors, and having the steering wheel on the wrong side). I was happy to hear this, because I think it's a bit pricy at $25,000.

When it comes to Peugeot and Lancia, Peugeot wins hands down in one category: kid appeal.

The Peugeot dealership in southern Kyoto had a nice little kid's area, and Anthony was more than happy to spend his time here while we looked at the cars.

In sad comparison, the Maserati dealer selling the Lancia had squat:

While waiting, Anthony didn't have much to do but to play with a sticker book we brought along, and lick the window glass.