Internet Ordeal: One kidnapping and one litre of tears

Me as a kid.. ooor maybe just a schoolkid in Chiba

Yeah, hello.

Finally I was able to pick up my modem and internet username/password at school on Saturday. Yeah, yeah, these Japanese people seem to work 24 hours a day, seven days a week. And yeah, they still won't let us do anything ourselves in this country - not that we would've been able, anyway, as no one speaks English and my Japanese still s u c k.

Being a total dimwit when it comes to computers gadgets I put the modem together by shoving every cord I found into any available hole (that's usually how things roll, ey?). Do I need to mention that together with the modem I also got 30 different thick and colourful pamphlets which didn't help me figure out how to get the internet going at all.

After spending some time, trying to be the strong and independent woman I so desperately want to be, I admitted my shortcomings to myself and went and got a couple of guys from my class (there's about ten people in my class living in the same buildling or in the building nearby) that also use Mac. Still we weren't able to get the internet going, even though they tried what had worked on theirs.

I was seriously starting to wonder if my (what has to be bad) karma finally had caught up with me.

Eventually they gave up and I realised that I had to wait until Monday (Monday?! I've been waiting for a month already!), to call the customer service number. After the last class today, were the last 20 minutes were the slowest ever, I rode my bike as fast as I could (without falling over, this time) all the way home.

When I called the service number for gaijins, foreigners, provided, the lady said they only delt with problems with the modem itself, not any problems with internet connection. So she gave me two different numbers to call and also said that they didn't speak English (in yo face!). I was starting to get impatient, especially since it was still pretty early (around 1 p.m) and all of my Japanese neighbors would probably be at school and I haven't made any Japanese friends yet (karma, again).

Then I started the stalking. I was so desperate for any Japanese speaking person to help me make the call I decided to camp outside my frontdoor, waiting for some stray, unknowing Japanese person to pass by. I even brought snacks (for myself, not as bait).

Soon I gave up trying to find a Japanese person and decided to call myself. How hard can this get-an-internet-connection-in-Japanese be, right? Impatient and a tad frustrated I called, and of course I didn't understand anything. The lady even asked if I had "a Japanese friend" - and I said "noooo".

I went back out.

After a while I went back in (it was raining) and then I heard someone walking on the stairs right next to my apartment. I ran to the front door and popped my head out. "Sumimaseeeeen, chotto tetsudatte itadakimasen ka?" (excuse, can you please help me a little bit?), I pleaded to the frightened Japanese guy standing in the stairs outside. He was very unwilling and shy, as any other Japanese boy, but I managed to convince him to come to my front door - I felt like a pervert. He didn't even want to go inside my apartment, so I had to drag my Mac, with all of the long cables attached, all the way out in the hall and put it on the floor by the shoes. I dialled the number and firmly placed it in this poor guys hand. He wouldn't even sit down.

After a lot of talking in Japanese (without ever touching my Mac) he was given yet another phonenumber. Which he called. Then he was given another number. Which he also called. Then he finally said "They can get someone to come and help you, but it'll cost 10 000 Yen".

Then I started to cry.

I had just paid 5 000 Yen for a month of internet, and now they wanted a bunch of money just to help me get connected? Whenever I had any problems in Norway I just called Houston and they would say "do this, type that, press this button and badabing! I would be connected.

I started out as a suddle sniffle, but my throat filled with potatoes and sawdust. My newly kidnapped Japanese neigbour must have noticed, even tough I tried to hide (I aint no crybaby!), because he seemed to be trying harder, even going as far as squating in my hallway, instead of trying to type on my Mac on the floor while standing up. He kept saying "Doo shyoo, doo shyoo" (what to do, what to do), while he scratched his head. A couple of times he even said "nakanaide kudasai" (Please, don't cry), that poor guy, he must have been so embarrased.

In the end he too gave up, I thank him a million times for his help and let him go.

My friend, classmate and neighbor, Cat, had left her keys in the keyhole (doh!) when we went to school this morning, so she stopped by to fetch them when she got back from school. She suggested to call yet another of our classmates, Magnus, and he figured out that there must be something wrong with the modem, so he called back to the costumer service number I started out with in the first place.

In the end we coincidentally found out, by looking at Cat's modem that I had attached a piece that came with the modem to it that wasn't suppose to be there. It was removed, and BaDaBing!

I now have internet.

The End