The Toilet Slippers
This is episode 19 of The French Tech Comedy by DNA cowgirl
Episode 1: The Science of Sakura
Episode 2: Lost in Telomere Translation
Episode 3: Feel Flee to Donate
Episode 4: Pasteurising Tech With the French Touch
Episode 5: The Newborn Symphony Project
Episode 6: The Unknown 9% of the Human Genome
Episode 7: The Apple Tech Specs Conference
Episode 8: religA.I.on
Episode 9: Hiroshima is Japan’s World Trade Center
Episode 10: Mao’s Robots
Episode 11: Zazen in the Shinkansen
Episode 12: The Last (French) Samurai
Episode 13: To Humanity and Beyond
Episode 14: The Music of Genomic Origami
Episode 15: Direct-to-consumer Ikigami Genetics
Episode 16: Underground Science
Episode 17: Gene Karaoke Groove
Episode 18: The Osaka Forever-Young Army
The first few nights after Yuki’s arrival in Singapore, she kept complaining about being jet lagged, getting no sleep. And she was walking for hours during the day, eager to discover new places each time. Her feet were sore. She loved the botanic garden, and the free gigs there, mainly during the week-end. She was trying a whole variety of cosmetics. Japanese ones, for starters, that happened to be more available and cheaper here. Condiment producer Ajinomoto has developed its own line of beauty products from amino acids; the Yakult milk drink manufacturer now offers cosmetics based on lactic acid bacteria; and the jeweler Mikimoto has a line of products made from pearls. Other companies, such as Fujifilm and Suntory, have recently entered the beauty industry. Yuki was now enquiring about luffas — vegetable sponges from the squash family. Hechima in Japanese. For centuries, women in rural areas have used stem juice from this squash for its moisturising and toning properties, applying it directly to the hands, face and other sensitive areas. Called hechima-sui in Japanese, this juice is still part of the ingredients of many cosmetics today. Rice bran, komenuka, is another natural product known to eliminate imperfections, prevent wrinkles and rejuvenate the skin. Komenuka is particularly rich in vitamins E and B2 and is still used today in face cleansers and beauty masks. And of course, there is sake. Female artists, including geishas, have been using for hundreds of years traditional and natural beauty products. Sake was not only a drink consumed by the geisha hosts: they applied a few drops to their hands to moisturise them. Sake is a beverage that is rich in amino acids helping to prevent the skin from drying out. Even today, sake extract is found among the list of ingredients of many cosmetics. Camellia oil, an excellent source of oleic acid, was also used to moisturise and revitalise the skin and hair. It is commonly found today in shampoos and creams in Japan. In Singapore, shortly after her arrival, Yuki had found a cosmetics shop where you could choose the ingredients of your own nourishing face cream — tailored to your needs. You could also create your own perfume. The price was affordable, and she wanted to discuss it with Nono. She had spent a couple of afternoons at that shop, they even wanted to hire her! Of course, Nono was back at 1:00 am from work, waking up at 7:30, leaving at 8:15. And he was sleeping like a baby. Yuki found the whole situation frustrating. Singapore was a great place, but she needed to sleep to replenish her neurotransmitters, as her days were especially busy. She had started English lessons at the British Council, too. Plenty of things were buzzing in her head. Why was Nono sleeping like a baby? There were thousands of things she wanted to discuss with him. Meal plans, what he wanted for dinner. But he was never here for dinner… Before going to bed, he had asked for a home-made miso soup. At 1:20 in the morning. Yuki had found all the ingredients she needed. Food was not exactly cheap in Singapore, but she could find plenty of ingredients for her Japanese-style cooking. The other night, he was so hungry he had asked her if she could cook plenty of rice. “We need to get organised,” she thought. On her way back from the bathroom, she saw that her smartphone screen was lighting up. A message on Line, and a missed incoming call.
“ — Your father has forgotten his toilet slippers at the concert venue, could you please arrange for him to pick them up as soon as possible kudasai?”
Yuki was not able to reach her parents so she called Taka.
“ — Where did he forget them?”
“ — You know that tiny presentation space in Tokyo mom was able to get, when the French Tech delegation was visiting and Keiko, her two colleagues from the Royal Conservatory of the Hague were here and we performed concertos from Venice, cantatas from the churches of Leipzig and harpsichord suites from the halls of Versailles?”
Taka wasn’t sure.
“ — Mom and dad attended.”
Taka knew their mom could bake just divine confectionery, which she always did on such occasions. No wonder people loved attending Yuki’s concerts. Divine food and drinks for free…
“ — But I’m in Fukuoka right now…”
“ — Can’t you hop on a train?”
“ — Can it wait for a few days?”
“ — The lady on the phone sounded like it was urgent… and I’m having a lot of trouble getting a hold of dad.”
“ — Look, I’ll try to reach him, ok? So calm down and forget about the whole thing. Just tell the lady your father is currently on a business trip but he will take care of this without delay.”
“ — What if he isn’t? I don’t want to turn the lady who is in charge of renting that Tokyo presentation space against me.”
“ — What’s going on here?” Nono was headed to the kitchen, looking for something to drink, milk or water, he wasn’t sure. Maybe green tea…
Yuki looked upset.
“ — Baby, calm down… baby…” he was gently massaging her shoulders and kissing her ears. But Yuki was determined to concentrate her attention and efforts on this urgent matter.
As soon as he had settled down with his green tea in the huge living room, he noticed his phone had been busy too. Ken Ba. Chinese giant TenBa’s founder, a zillionaire from Shanghai. It could only mean one thing, or rather, two words: desperately urgent. Highly confidential. Another conflict between the Chinese government and their Secret Services branch? Daesh contamination in China? Something like that, he guessed. He sighed. Would this nightmare be over for real one day soon? It sounded like Yuki was now busy talking with her mom on Skype. Ba was telling Nono he would be in Singapore in a couple of days, and a meeting had been scheduled. There would be two special guests. He knew what this meant. The Chinese secret services guys, the spooks from last time. Great. As far as he was concerned, Ba needed say no more. He knew the drill. He would have to attend yet another James-Bond style political meeting, along with those guys who were always ready and eager to test their trigger finger. Chinese secret services. Chinese president would be attending, too, from Beijing. And Nono would have to feed him with the latest scientific news regarding xenotransplantation, saying China had the worldwide leadership in this field — thanks to the help of the priceless expertise of Harvard Med School’s best scientists, but never mind that — and the first implantation of humanised pig organs into a sick transplant patient would take place as soon as possible, before next year. Before Chinese New Year next year, that is. Why had Xi Jinping chosen him for this task? Nono had no interest in geopolitical agendas. He was still seeing that girl in China, but Yuki had decided she would come and live with him for a few months in Singapore. Wasn’t she adorable? A Japanese geisha, trying to leave her comfort zone, out of love. Nono suspected Xi Da Da had found him unbiased. He was neither Chinese, nor Japanese, nor American. And he was 200% busy with the complexity and intricacy of his private life. Talking of geopolitics… People living in glass houses…
Another message, from his Chinese girlfriend, this time. On WeChat.
… shouldn’t throw stones.
Yuki was still talking with her mom on Skype. That toilet slippers business was spiralling out of control… or maybe the parents were worried about Yuki living abroad, with the Chinese.
“ — The first xenotransplant patient will be enrolled in 6 months for the first worldwide clinical trial in Shanghai. I’m sending you the details.”
“ — Good. I’ll review your documents, and we’ll talk again tomorrow same time. Meanwhile, good night.” It was 2:23 am. Nono would have to be at work at 8:30 am.
He went back to bed, while Yuki was still busy talking on Skype. Apparently, for some reason, her mom wanted her own skin care cream, too. And Yuki was about to get hired in Singapore. Great news. It meant she would stay for a while, then. He overheard her ask her parents if the Singapore British Council had a good reputation. Nono couldn’t think of any institution with a longer and more distinguished tradition than the British Council, but never mind that. His phone was alive again. The Chinese girl friend. She was probably sending pictures. Nono was working in bed, trying to finalise the documents he wanted to send to Ba, in preparation of this bloody meeting, taking place once a year. The Bloody Harvest Meeting. He wanted to get rid of this as fast as possible. But his WeChat app kept buzzing.
“ — Can we talk now?”
Yuki was back. Nono erased the damn app from his phone.
“ — Is everything ok, baby?”
“ — Yes, my father will collect the toilet slippers tomorrow, first thing. The lady is happy with the news.”
“ — Which lady, baby?,” he asked without listening to the answer. He was busy preparing the stuff for Ba. Yuki was chatting cheerfully, about cosmetics and concerts and malls and more malls. Orchard Road. All the Japanese stuff and food that could be found there… concerts… What he wanted for dinner…
Nono was pretending to listen to the monologue, drafting the message for Ba.
“ — Hmm… I see… That’s great, baby…”
He sent the message just as Yuki was done with the recap of her day’s activity and achievements and wonders and discoveries. Nono tried that kiss in her ear again. This time, he was more successful. No toilet slippers in the way.
Yuki had been able to create her own skincare cream, and the product became a brand in no time. “Six in one.” The magic of Singapore. She was now working part-time in that shop she loved so much, trying to create a new perfume. Her phone had been ringing one evening, and Nono, who had come back earlier from work, answered it. It was Yuki’s dad. He didn’t sound like he was too fond of his daughter’s boyfriend, the last (French) Samurai. He also sounded like he was back from one of his usual after-work sake-drinking little sessions, because he mentioned something he hadn’t before. Engagement. Nono was bracing for the engagement-and-mariage speech. But no answer seemed to be expected from him, as Yuki’s dad promptly ended the conversation, after saying that he was able to get his toilet slippers back a couple of days ago. Mission accomplished.
“ — Excellent news,” said Nono at the height of hypocrisy. He couldn’t care less.
Xi Da Da was not looking too happy and yet, Nono had done his best to impress him. Human xenotransplant clinical trial starting in China in just 6 months. What’s not to like? Apparently this was not fast enough.
More and more Xinjiang prisoners were killed for their organs, and falun-gong sect members, and Tibetan prisoners. “Looks very much like the usual stuff to me,” thought Nono.
What was unusual, though, was the intensity of conflicts between Chinese secret services and the North Korean dictator. The guy was going ballistic, just like his missiles. He was spiralling out of control, just like the forgotten toilet slippers had, a few days ago. And the Chinese Spooks — secret services — had become a death squad. Muslim dissidents from Xinjiang were paying the heaviest price (“ — Isn’t Tibet paying the heaviest price?”, thought Nono), as they had become the main — and especially, the main problematic — organ source for illegal transplant. 99% of transplant organs in China came from prisoners. A few from these organs that were mainly sold in Hong-Kong were intended for sick Government officials in China, the rest — the vast majority — was sold on the black market for as much as possible. Many Japanese and American buyers, but not only.
Now, the two spooks were ranting about terrorism risk, since Xinjiang was China’s muslim province, geographically located right next to… Daesh. Northern Korea was currently (and more than ever) trying to make alliances with Daesh. The Xinjiang-Daesh-North-Korea Axis of Evil, contaminating Beijing, yada yada yada. Nono was growing impatient. He had no interest in that stuff. Why weren’t all the brilliant minds mentioning the zillions of people dying worldwide (including in China) because they had no (financial) access to organ transplant instead? And all the US journalists wondering why China was taking the worldwide leadership in xenotransplant? Shouldn’t it be the US, as usual? Xi Jinping wanted the transplants to take place in China, but not the Daesh terrorism. On a risk rating scale from 1 to 10, made-in-China organ transplants — a great source of income for the Chinese army — was rated at a 8+ level, because of the so-called Xinjiang-Daesh-North-Korea Axis of Evil. Nono was still involved in the lab activities trying to fast-track and jump-start xenotransplantation in China, and he loved the science of it. But the geopolitical agenda had come unwanted. Like the Japanese toilet slippers at the presentation space Yuki’s mom had booked in Tokyo. Since the com around (and even during) the meeting was done on WeChat (e-mails were dead in China, nobody was using them anymore), Nono had quickly downloaded the WeChat app on his smartphone, remembering he’s had to delete the app when spending the night with Yuki. He saw that the two spooks were laughing, looking at him. For some reason, he had egg on his face. The two Chinese Secret Services gorillas had just uploaded on the meeting’s main screen the 10 last messages he had never opened. The girlfriend in China. Sending Nono some pictures. Live from her wedding. And a quick line:
“ — Your ass keeps falling between two chairs. Get out of my life, loser, forever.”
Neither Xi Da Da nor Ken Ba seemed to appreciate the little joke. The last (French) Samurai was having a hard time in China.
Catherine Coste
MITx 7.00x, 7.QBWx, 7.28x1–2 certified
Member of the Walking Gallery of Health Care, founded by US activist Regina Holliday
