Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman! by Richard P. Feynman;Ralph Leighton;Edward Hutchings;Albert R. Hibbs

Author:Richard P. Feynman;Ralph Leighton;Edward Hutchings;Albert R. Hibbs
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Feynman, Anecdotes, Science, Science & Technology, United States, Science - Humor, Physicists - United States - Biography, Physicists, Biography & Autobiography, Physics, Richard Phillips, Biography
ISBN: 9780393316049
Published: 2010-06-03T04:00:00+00:00

Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman!

Part 5

The World of One Physicist

———————– Would _You_ Solve

the Dirac Equation? ———————–

Near the end of the year I was in Brazil I received a letter from Professor Wheeler which said that there was going to be an international meeting of theoretical physicists in Japan, and might I like to go? Japan had some famous physicists before the war–Professor Yukawa, with a Nobel prize, Tomonaga, and Nishina–but this was the first sign of Japan coming back to life after the war, and we all thought we ought to go and help them along.

Wheeler enclosed an army phrasebook and wrote that it would he nice if we would all learn a little Japanese. I found a Japanese woman in Brazil to help me with the pronunciation, I practiced lifting little pieces of paper with chopsticks, and I read a lot about Japan. At that time, Japan was very mysterious to me, and I thought it would be interesting to go to such a strange and wonderful country, so I worked very hard.

When we got there, we were met at the airport and taken to a hotel in Tokyo designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. It was an imitation of a European hotel, right down to the little guy dressed in an outfit like the Philip Morris guy. We weren’t in Japan; we might as well have been in Europe or America! The guy who showed us to our rooms stalled around, pulling the shades up and down, waiting for a tip. Everything was just like America.

Our hosts had everything organized. That first night we were served dinner up at the top of the hotel by a woman dressed Japanese, but the menus were in English. I had gone to a lot of trouble to learn a few phrases in Japanese, so near the end of the meal, I said to the waitress, “_Kohi-o motte kite kudasai_.” She bowed and walked away.

My friend Marshak did a double take: “What? What?”

“I talk Japanese,” I said.

“Oh, you faker! You’re always kidding around, Feynman.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” I said, in a serious tone.

“OK,” he said. “What did you ask?”

“I asked her to bring us coffee.”

Marshak didn’t believe me. “I’ll make a bet with you,” he said. “If she brings us coffee.

The waitress appeared with our coffee, and Marshak lost his bet.

It turned out I was the only guy who had learned some Japanese–even Wheeler, who had told everybody they ought to learn Japanese, hadn’t learned any–and I couldn’t stand it any more. I had read about the Japanese-style hotels, which were supposed to be very different from the hotel we were staying in.

The next morning I called the Japanese guy who was organizing everything up to my room. “I would like to stay in a Japanese-style hotel.”

“I am afraid that it is impossible, Professor Feynman.”

I had read that the Japanese are very polite, but very obstinate: You have to keep working on them. So I decided to be as obstinate as they, and equally polite.

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