THE Professor Goto

I’d been on campus approximately 43 minutes before I was escorted through a series of walkways, hallways, elevators, and doorways to the Department of Gastroenerology where I was told I’d be rotating for the next month.  I was quickly introduced to Professor Goto, sweet older gentleman, sitting in his office, reading some important looking journal article related to Gastroenterology, which he heads.  He stood up to greet me with a bow followed by a hand shake, a big smile on his face the entire time.  Inviting me to take a seat across the desk, I sat and listened while I excitedly told me about the many times he’s visited the United States for such and such a conference and this and that meeting.  Through his broken English and fast talking, I learn he loved San Diego (which I’ve realized many Japanese have an interesting love for San Diego).  Detroit and Chicago were nice, but both cold.  But most importantly, Professor Goto absolutely adores New Orleans.   I caught something about Tulane being a good school and that DDW is held there regularly and every time DDW is in New Orleans, Professor Goto definitely attends.  I had no idea what DDW stood for, but I smiled and nodded, pretending to understand and just glad I figured out that he likes New Orleans.  That gave me plenty to work with conversation-wise.  We chatted- well, more like he talked while I did my very best to understand and insert appropriately timed smiles, nods, and laughs- for a solid ten minutes before he decided it was time to give me a tour.  We walked room to room down the long hallway of Gastroenterology while Dr. Goto stopped to introduce me to every person we crossed.  I didn’t catch a single name or what their position was in the department, but there was lots of bowing and smiles.

We finally made it down to a room full of young looking men in white coats, and I realized I had no idea if they were students, residents, attendings, lab techs, or otherwise.  As soon as we walked in, the joking and laughter stopped and they all turned to bow and greet Dr. Goto.  By now, I started to notice a trend.  As the head of the department, I assumed he would have some prestige amongst those in Gastroenterology.  But this was different than the way folks interact with Department Chairs at Tulane.   I didn’t realize it at the time, but looking back, I now see those bows and formal greetings as deep respect with a dash fear and a pinch of absolute terror. 

Professor Goto introduced me to a young looking physician who told me his full name, quickly followed by a smile and “Don’t worry, I know Japanese names are too hard for Americans.  You can call me Hiko”.  Professor Goto, informed Dr. Hiko that I would be joining the Gastroenterology Department for one month and that he was in charge of me.  With that, Dr. Hiko nodded, smiled, bowed, and dropped what he was doing to follow us back to Professor Goto’s office. 

It wasn’t until later that day and the next few days that I slowly came to appreciate the gravity of my meeting with Professor Goto.  Little did I know at the time that I was being introduced not to just a Professor like we think of in the States.  In Japan, for each Department there is only One Professor.  THE PROFESSOR.  And what Professor says, goes. Over the next few weeks, people in the department would ask me if I’d met Professor the same way someone would ask if you’ve met a B List celebrity that lives in town.  That first day, I definitely respected the man.  But after a week in the department, I began to appreciate the fear that comes with such a rigid hierarchy.  Looking back, I’m grateful for the ignorant bliss with which I entered that office on my first day at the University.  Had I known what I know now, I would definitely be more nervous to sit and talk.  Perhaps my informality on our first meeting came across as impolite.  But perhaps The Professor appreciated the innocent causality with which we chatted.  After all, despite the title and the hierarchy and the power, The Professor is still just a regular dude that likes to party in New Orleans during DDW, which I only later figured out stands for Digestive Disease Week.  Of course.