“Is there an election coming up?” I asked a friend of mine one afternoon. I heard a recorded broadcast in the distance. I assumed the message must have been coming from one of the megaphone-equipped political campaign vans that I had seen and heard before.
“No,” she answered. “That’s the yakimo man.”
“The Yakimo Man?” I questioned. “Who is he? What political office is he running for?”
“Don’t you know him?” she asked. “He is the guy who sells sweet potatoes out of his truck.”
Now, back in America, I usually ate all my meals on a plate either in my own kitchen or at a restaurant. And, yes, I usually forbade my sons to eat any food that was found sitting around inside our minivan. But, in Japan, I admit, I have become the Queen of the Carsuine (car cuisine). Surprising myself, I have purchased the most flavorful roasted chicken, scrumptious homemade cupcakes, yummy Mexican food, and delicious coffee--all out of the side door (or window) of an automobile.
But, I had never tried the bag-wrapped, straight from the back of a car-oven, roasted sweet potato.
“That’s him! That’s him! The Yakimo man!” I cried from inside my apartment. I heard the Yakimo Man. He was nearby! Oh, the melody! The sweet potato siren was tempting me to wander the side streets and discover this new delicacy, this new carsuine delight.
“Yakimo! Yakimo! Abunai! Abunai!” I yelled as I hurried down the streets. I could feel my mouth water already. Watch out! Let me through! I am coming, Yakimo Man, and I am hungry!
“Yakimo?” I enthusiastically ordered as I looked through his truck windows. As I looked at the driver and the driver looked at me, I realized there was no yakimo aroma. That is strange. My friend had told me that you could smell the roasting potato. I could smell something but it wasn’t sweet potato. It smelled a little rusty. Perhaps it was a special sauce?
“Yakimo?” I asked again as I looked around his truck.
Also, I realized there was no burning fire. My friend had mentioned that there was an open wood-burning oven in the back of the yakimo mobile. Where was the oven?
And, it was after I ordered again and realized a few people had lined up behind me with broken computers, worn-out air conditioner, and old electronic junk that I quickly surmised there must be a third type of roving vehicle with a broadcast message.
This was not my sweet Yakimo Man. This was the electronics repo man. Yes, he also cruised around town. Yes, he also played a sweet sounding message to announce his arrival. Yes, he had a loudspeaker. But, no, he did not sell sweet potato. Nor chicken. Nor Mexican food. Nor coffee. Nor cupcakes. Believe me, I asked.
Apparently, he collects old electronics and gadgets.
Long story short. That is the reason why Mommy ran out of the house promising sweet potato treats and returned home empty-handed and without her watch.
