Except for a few well-seasoned apartment buildings, the street I moved to 10 years ago was lined with old-style houses. Now only one remains. It is still a quiet street in an upscale neighborhood, but nearby are several small industry suppliers engaged in cutting, shaping and shipping metal forms. They stay busy in spite of the recession. One has a coal stove that sits on the sidewalk alongside a busy thoroughfare -- Sakurada Dori -- that provides a few seconds of warmth for people walking by. A kettle on top heats water for tea, though I have never seen any of the workers stop long enough to have any. There is a neighborhood temple and a shrine to watch over our spiritual requirements and an assortment of shops assuring that any need can be filled within a few blocks. In other words, it is like any other neighborhood just about anywhere in Japan.

Even the sounds of Japan that I remember from my earliest days here have not disappeared, like the chant of the man who specialized in bamboo poles used for drying clothes. The technique is to slide the pole, supported by a framework of hooks on the wall, through the sleeves. Sheets and towels are hung double and secured by a clamp along the edge on either side. Even now, though residents have found other ways to dry their clothes, once a month a man comes through our street selling them, calling out his melodious "saodake." Today his poles are made of plastic but they still look like bamboo, although they have gradually become more on the blue side of Japan's green. I smile whenever I hear the sound of his chant, rather sadly, though, because I have never seen him make a sale. Today he came again and I went out on my balcony to watch him go by, wondering why he still comes since no one uses them anymore. Then I looked across to our oldest apartment building. The new -- and young -- tenant was putting up a pole to dry her laundry. I hope she bought it from man who has served our street so well with so little support from its residents for so many years.

There may be something to be learned from the pole seller, that even though things change, there is a proclivity to continue with the way they were. It can be a recommendable attribute or a barrier to progress. Our next question deals with a problem that has no answer, a testimony to many foreigner's need to ask: "Why?" Often there is no answer. It is just the way it is.

A man requested several days vacation from his Japanese company but sensed his boss was reluctant to give approval. He was entitled to time off and had no special work to do, but still he received very heavy vibes that he should not ask. He is aware that Japanese don't take vacations even though they could. It's a loyalty thing -- and a silly one, he adds. He wonders where this custom comes from and how he can take the time that is due him but still show his coworkers that he is a loyal member of the team.

He can't. By even posing the question he has indicated that he is not a team player. There have been changes in many offices -- just look at any of the popular restaurants attracting young Japanese and you will see a lot of bright, new generation workers who are not staying late at the office. However, there are probably more offices that are holding desperately to the old ways. You could call it denial. Perhaps he could help the process of change by taking his earned leave. Or perhaps his boss would suggest he look for other work. It depends somewhat on his value to the company, and his boss' attitude. It is quite possible the other workers would like to join him, but he can't expect support until it has been signaled that it is OK to give it. Hundreds of books have been written about the whys of Japan's way of operating, and whether it is conforming, consensus or custom, the end result is the same: He has been coerced into deciding not to take his holidays, just like innumerable others before him.

That is my opinion. Others may differ. He should talk to foreign employees of other companies and find out how they have handled this common problem. For example, he could attend a meeting of Kaisha, an organization made up of foreign employees of Japanese firms. I am sure he will find sympathetic listeners. Call (03) 5562-0382 for information.