The last time I was in Tokyo, I made an 1)excursion to the 2)Nihonbashi branch of 3)Takashimaya, a chain of department stores founded in 1831, because a friend told me to ride the elevators. Architecturally, the elevators aren’t anything special—the building dates back to 1933, and it looks like other grand department stores from that era. But it’s staffed by employees so attentive and polite that they transform the act of moving between floors from a 4)mundane, even annoying, task into a 5)pageant of 6)ritualized 7)courtesy.
It starts as you approach the elevator bank. An attendant in the well-tailored uniform of a 1960s stewardess (jacket, skirt, gloves, 8)pumps, 9)jaunty hat) welcomes you with a series of bows and spoken greetings that continue, without pause, as she pushes the call button and directs you to the arriving elevator with an arm held at a perfect 90-degree angle. When the elevator door opens, an operator—dressed like a stewardess from a competing airline(different color jacket)—welcomes you with more bows and greetings. This is when the display of politeness turns into a delicate series of 10)choreographed movements: You step into the elevator; the operator 11)pivots and extends her arm to protect you from the closing grate; and the attendant in the lobby turns to face you and bows deeply, holding the position with practiced stillness. Third floor, please.
Is it too much? Maybe. The bowing and gesturing might be unnecessary—if you’ve made it to Tokyo, you know how to work an elevator— but it sends a message: From the moment you walk in the door, the employees are completely attuned to you.
Even though I was impressed with Japanese 12)civility from the moment my passport was stamped at Narita airport, I didn’t fully appreciate the extent of the country’s service culture until I was partway through a multicourse meal at Ishikawa, a small Tokyo restaurant with three 13)Michelin stars. I was sitting at the counter, directly opposite chef Hideki Ishikawa. At times he explained to me what he was preparing, but he left other dishes to my waitress, who spoke excellent English. After asking her a quick question, I noticed that she 14)kneeled before answering. In fact, she always kneeled before speaking. She wore a slim-fitting 15)kimono, and when she lowered herself she gracefully corkscrewed her body so that her knees settled on the ground without her needing to steady herself.
I felt awful—and 16)elated. What a wrong, beautiful manner in which to be guided through dinner. At the end of the meal she, Ishikawa and what seemed like the rest of the staff escorted me to the sidewalk. They stood in a line and bowed. At the end of the block, I glanced over my shoulder. They were still in formation, and when they saw me turn they bowed again.
“You have a three-star restaurant in Japan, the famous chef with all the awards—and he’s not only preparing the food, he’s preparing it for you,”says David Kinch, the chef and owner at Manresa, in Los Gatos, California. Kinch, who once worked in Japan, and he tells me that my meal at Ishikawa is how it’s done in Japan. “He actually hands it to you. He asks you, ‘How are you? Are you enjoying it? Is it to your liking?’ It’s a sense of hospitality that comes across as 17)genuine, not as part of a training program,” says Kinch.
A job means more than just checking off a couple of boxes. According to Masaru Watanabe, the executive director and general manager of the Palace Hotel Tokyo, a grand hotel overlooking the grounds of the 18)Imperial Palace, it demands an emotional commitment. “Although Japanese hospitality, or what we call omotenashi, has developed a reputation outside of Japan as being a 19)benchmark for exceptional service, it can be very difficult to define.” says Watanabe. “To me, it is hospitality that’s extended with the utmost sincerity, grace and respect, however big or small the gesture or the task. Not to be mistaken with the other, perhaps m o r e c o m m o n l y experienced version of service, which is superficial service delivered out of a sense of obligation and with an expectation of reward.”
I experienced that one night when I went for a 20)nightcap at the New York Bar on the top floor of the Park Hyatt Tokyo, where I was staying. The staff reopened the bar—even though it was well after last call—because it was my birthday. How did they know? My mother had a cake delivered to my room earlier, and it seemed the entire hotel was notified. Looking out over the blinking red lights that punctuate the Tokyo skyline, with a long pour of a Yamazaki single 21)malt, I thought about what might have happened at a similar hotel in London or Paris: I would have been given a 22)courteous but firm no, possibly offered a glass of Champagne in the lobby or my room. It’s a safe bet the hotel wouldn’t have reopened its marquee bar for one last $14 whisky.
According to Merry White, author of Coffee Life in Japan and professor of anthropology at Boston University, what I experienced at the Park Hyatt Tokyo was an example of omoiyari. “It means the active sensitivity to other people,”she tells me. “It anticipates the needs and desires of other people. It’s not broad-brush, it’s fine-tuned.” White explains that omoiyari is taught to children and praised in school. When the staff reopened the bar for me, it was because they could tell it would make me happy to play out my Lost in Translation fantasy.
I found omotenashi in a municipal agency that rented bicycles for what worked out to 85 cents a day. I walked down a flight of stairs into a windowless storage room located under the sidewalk and was greeted by an elderly gentleman who welcomed me, carefully went over the contract, then personally checked the wheels, gears, brakes, handlebars and seat before escorting me to the street. The attendant wasn’t being 23)servile or 24)obsequious or overly concerned by my obvious foreignness. When he bowed and wished me well with what seemed like heartfelt sincerity, he was being professional.
上次在東京時,我游覽了高島屋的日本橋分店,只因一個朋友告訴我要去坐它家的電梯。這家連鎖百貨商店創(chuàng)建于1831年。從建筑學上來說,這些電梯并沒什么特別之處——這座建筑可以追溯到1933年,看上去跟那個年代延續(xù)至今的百貨商店也無甚差別。但其出彩之處是電梯還配有細心周到、彬彬有禮的服務員工,他們將“在樓層之間移動”這一乏味甚至是惱人的任務變成了一場儀禮盛會。
這一切從你走近電梯門就開始了。一名身著剪裁考究制服的侍者,以一系列的鞠躬和問候歡迎你的到來,那制服就如同上世紀六十年代空姐的裝束(外套、短裙、手套、單鞋、漂亮時髦的帽子),接著無片刻停頓,她便按下呼叫按鈕,手臂舉成完美的90度,指引你走近上升的電梯。當電梯門打開時,一位操作員——著裝酷似對手航空公司的空姐(外套顏色不同)——以更多的鞠躬和問候?qū)δ惚硎練g迎。這時,禮貌的表演變成了一系列設(shè)計精妙的舞蹈動作:你走進電梯;操作員旋轉(zhuǎn)并伸展她的手臂以保護你不被正在關(guān)閉的門閘夾傷;接著大廳里的侍者面向你深深鞠躬,以熟練的沉靜保持姿勢不動。請到三樓。
這是否太過了呢?也許吧。這樣的鞠躬和手勢或許毫無必要——都能來到東京了,你總不至于不會自己坐電梯吧——但這樣的儀禮傳達了一條信息:從你走進大門開始,這里的員工們就完全以你為尊,體貼照顧。
盡管自從我的護照在成田機場蓋上戳伊始,我就已被日本人的禮儀所打動,但直到我在石川餐廳——一家被評為米其林三星的東京小餐廳,享用一頓由多道菜組成的大餐且吃到一半時,我才真正欣賞起這個國家的服務文化。我坐在柜臺邊,正對著大廚石川秀樹。有時候他會對我解釋他正在準備的菜肴,而其他菜肴他則留給那位英語說得很棒的服務員來解釋。問了她一個簡短問題后,我發(fā)現(xiàn)她在回答前會跪下來。實際上,她在說話前總會跪下來。她身著修身和服,而當她彎下腰時,她會優(yōu)雅地曲折身體,這樣她的雙膝就能落在地板上且不需要穩(wěn)定身體平衡。
我覺得太可怕了——卻又很高興。以這種禮儀貫穿指導你用餐,多么的不對勁,而又多么的美好!在用餐結(jié)束后,她、石川,還有似乎餐廳其他所有的工作人員護送我至人行道。他們站成一排向我鞠躬。走至街尾時,我越過肩膀瞥了一眼。他們依然保持著隊列,而當他們看見我轉(zhuǎn)頭時,他們又鞠了一次躬。
“在日本有一家三星級餐廳,著名的大廚贏得過各種獎項——而他并不只是在準備食物,他是在為你準備食物,”大衛(wèi)·金奇說,他是加利福尼亞州洛思加圖斯市曼雷薩餐廳的大廚兼店主。金奇曾在日本工作過,他告訴我說,我在石川家的用餐體驗其實在日本實屬尋常?!八娴臅说侥忝媲?。他會問你說:‘你好嗎?你喜歡這道菜嗎?這合你胃口嗎?’這種殷勤款待的感覺是真誠坦率的,而非某種培訓方案的一部分,”金奇說。
一份工作的意義遠非勾選幾個選項就可以概括的。東京皇宮酒店,一家能俯瞰皇居庭院的大酒店,其執(zhí)行董事兼總經(jīng)理渡邊賢認為,工作需要情感投入?!氨M管日本人的好客,或者我們所謂的“以誠待客”在日本之外已經(jīng)聲名鵲起,成為了卓越服務的標準,但要想予以定義還是很難的?!倍蛇呎f?!皩τ谖襾碚f,無論那些心意之舉、所勞之事是大是小,都是飽含極度真誠、涵養(yǎng)和尊敬而展現(xiàn)出來的殷勤好客。這與人們更常體驗到的另一類服務是不一樣的,那種只是膚淺表面的服務,是出于責任而給予別人的,而且給予的同時期待回報。”
某天晚上,當我去到自己下榻的東京柏悅酒店頂層的紐約吧想來杯睡前小酒時,我體會到了這一點。那里的員工重新打開了酒吧——盡管已經(jīng)過了打烊時間很久——因為那天是我的生日。他們是怎么知道的呢?我母親在早些時候向我的房間快遞了一個蛋糕,而似乎整個酒店都知曉了??粗巴忾W爍的紅光不時劃破東京的天際線,伴著一大杯山崎單一麥芽威士忌,我想象著如果是在倫敦或巴黎的某間相似的酒店會是怎樣的待遇:我會被禮貌卻堅定地拒絕,或許會在大廳或是我的房間給我送上一杯香檳。但我敢打賭那間酒店肯定不會重新打開其頂層酒吧,只為某人最后來一杯價值14美元的威士忌。
《日本咖啡人生》的作者兼波士頓大學人類學教授梅里·懷特認為,我在東京柏悅酒店的體驗便是“關(guān)懷”精神的一個實例。“這意味著對他人需求保持敏感,”她告訴我說?!斑@種敏感度能讓人預見到他人的需要和渴望。不是簡單粗略的,而是細致周到的一份關(guān)懷?!睉烟亟忉屨f,日本人自孩提時代起便開始學習“關(guān)懷”精神,而“關(guān)懷”精神在學校也是深受頌揚。當員工為我重開酒吧時,是因為他們能夠猜到,如此一來我可以走入《迷失東京》的某個場景幻想中,這會讓我感到快樂。
我在一家負責出租自行車的市政機構(gòu)發(fā)現(xiàn)了“以誠待客”,出租費用算下來不過85美分一天。我走下一段樓梯,走進人行道下面一間沒有窗戶的儲藏室,受到了一位老先生的接待。他對我的到來表示歡迎,仔細查看了合約,接著親自檢查了車輪、車檔、剎車、把手和座椅,然后護送我來到大街上。這位接待員并非奴顏婢膝,或是逢迎諂媚,或是對于我顯而易見的外國人身份過分關(guān)心。他鞠躬并帶著似乎是發(fā)自內(nèi)心的真誠祝我安好,那是敬業(yè)專業(yè)的表現(xiàn)。