Still can't actually believe this happened...

I have a friend named Zare (short for Cesare). He is 27 and from
Brazil, and he is innately cool in a way that makes me feel
genetically inferior. Come to think of it, certain countries just seem
to have a knack for producing such people. Australia comes to mind,
for example.

In any case, I was at a museum with Zare on Saturday when a young
Japanese woman came up to him and asked if he was the Zare, from TV?
You see, Zare is on TV. He doesn't like to gloat about it, but he is.
Yes, he said. It's me. The woman told him how much she enjoyed his
comments on the show, and asked for a preview of the next show, to
which he obliged. All I could do was shake my head – that would never
happen to me. If only I was Brazilian…

Not 24 hours later, I was biking to my favorite Indian restaurant in
town for dinner, when I get a call from Zare. A hint of urgency
flavors his usual accent, which sounds like his native Portugese (an
intoxicatingly beautiful language to listen to) taking his English
salsa dancing. "David – I'm at the TV studio. We need other gaijin
(foreigners). Can you make it here by 5:30?"

On the trip there, which takes about an hour, I am on and off the
phone with the show's producer, telling me where to go, what taxi to
take, and mentioning multiple times that they'll pay for my cab.
OK!

I take a cab from Tamata station to Keio University, where NHK (the
government-run television station of Japan) has a small studio. The
producer is waiting for me at the front gate, nearly jumping into the
taxi in order to get things moving quicker. "This your friend?" the
driver asks. "Um," I say.

Wearing a worn forest green hoodless sweater, his hair is unkempt, as
if he had been running his fingers through it nervously for hours.
"Have you ever seen the show?"
"Um," I say.
This was not the correct answer.
"Can you write your major study in Japanese?"
"Yes."
"You're American?"
"Yes."
We go up and down a few elevators. Someone hands me a name card with
my name and nationality in Japanese flanked by a mini American flag.
"Put this on."
"OK."

This might be a good time to mention that I have NO idea what kind of
show this is. I am shown to a room full of wrapped sandwiches and a
big board with a messy schedule written on it. Peeking through the
glass doors, I see the studio.

The show is called "Cool Japan."
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LtwD9ri_sDA) Hosted by a comedian, a
professor and a very attractive, very non-Japanese looking lady, Cool
Japan brings 50 foreigners into a room along with some Japanese
college students. Each show has a different theme on the topic of
Japan, and videos and speakers are shown and heard, and the foreigners
are asked (In Japanese. Everyone is given a mini radio that has a
simultaneous translation heard through an earphone) whether they think
the given topic is "cool or not cool." Or, in Japanese, "koo-roo o-ru
notto koo-roo?" There are a number of votes throughout the show.

The producer came over and tapped my shoulder. "You're going to be
famous," he whispered.
"Um."
Waiting with a French student who smells of cigarettes to go on set,
I come to the following conclusion: "What the hell am I doing here?"
Before adequate time was given to answer this, I was taken on the set
to sit down next to my French companion, who did nothing to improve
the French stereotype I carry.

This show's topic, apparently, was about college and job-finding. I
found most of the material presented notto koo-roo. Participants are
encouraged to stand up and talk about how whatever is talked about is
different in their country, but as I have a hard enough time
generalizing people in one city, and many other Americans had no
problem lumping all of America into one convenient package, I kept
quiet.
The taping went on for a good while. I still didn't really believe
what was happening. I yawned. Someone said that if you leave something
on a bench in America it will be stolen within 5 minutes. A guy from
Greece talked about Japanese architecture. I looked at the host. No
way she's Japanese. But she speaks perfectly…
After the taping finished and they took my picture (for the
tabloids…?) one of the producers came up to thank me. "You did really
well!"
"But I just sat there and said nothing."
There's no business like it.