Two Japanese boys watch as Bill leaves the Soba shop in Shinjuku for another delivery. (Yutaka Kobayashi/Stars and Stripes)
This article first appeared in the Stars and Stripes Pacific edition, Oct. 16, 1959. It is republished unedited in its original form.
TOKYO — In Tokyo’s Shinjuku Ward, gourmets favoring the Japanese delicacy “osoba”— half bouillabaisse, half borsch —are often startled when a tow-headed American boy appears at their door, wooden trays filled with the broth.
Eleven-year-old Bill Wheeler rings doorbells for the Fushimiya soba shop down the street from his house, where he lives with his dad, James Wheeler, a Department of the Army engineer, and mom, Amine.
Japanese neighbors ordering soba. from the Fushimiya become even more astounded when the American lad, incongruously togged in the all-white Japanese clothing of a soba deliverer, spouts Japanese to them with no trace; of a Yankee accent.
Young Bill was only four when his parents came to Japan to live-in Yokohama. Their private rental home was deep in a Japanese neighborhood.
Bill, who speaks good Japanese, takes an order over the telephone. (Yutaka Kobayashi/Stars and Stripes)
Hot Soba is served by Bill to a customer. (Yutaka Kobayashi/Stars and Stripes)
Working water pump is one of Bill's chores. (Yutaka Kobayashi/Stars and Stripes)
Eleven-year-old Bill Wheele carries trays full of Soba for delivery for the Fushimiya soba shop down the street from his house. (Yutaka Kobayashi/Stars and Stripes)
Bill peddles bicycle with one hand, balances soba trays with the other on a delivery run. (Yutaka Kobayashi/Stars and Stripes)
Eating the Soba with chopsticks is no problem for Bill. Here, he enjoys a bowl after work. (Yutaka Kobayashi/Stars and Stripes)
Bill stops to see mom, Mrs. James Wheeler. Young Bill was only four when his parents — James Wheeler, a Department of the Army engineer, and mom, Amine — came to Japan and rented a home deep in a Japanese neighborhood. With no American kids to play with, Bill was soon speaking Japanese as a second language. (Yutaka Kobayashi/Stars and Stripes)
Bill had no American playmates. All his buddies were Japanese kids.
With the amazing adaptability of the young, Bill was soon speaking Japanese as a second tongue, translating for his parents and making friends for the Wheelers by erasing language barriers.
As Bill grew older and started school, the family moved to new locations — still living in private rentals. Bill had more and more Japanese friends.
In their new Shinjuku home, a buddy who worked at the soba shop down the street started taking Bill on his delivery rounds. Bill soon was learning to handle the unwieldy wooden trays and cycling down the narrow streets and alleyways like an expert.
“This is a lot of fun — and it gives me something to do after I finish my homework and on the weekends,” Bill says with enthusiasm.
In addition to carrying neighborhood deliveries, Bill is learning the intricate recipes and cooking methods of making the 40-odd varieties of soba.
“I’m not the greatest cook in the world yet,” says Bill, “but it’s fun to try. I really like carrying the trays on my bicycle. I can carry about six or seven of the cold kind of soba and about five of the soupy kind.”
“Sure I’ve dropped some, but I’m getting better, I feel.”
Bill gives a frank appraisal of the people-to-people program — from a robust, growing American boy’s point of view.
“I think anyone living in a foreign country should get out, meet the people and get to know the customs and habits of the strangers. As soon as the Japanese know you’re interested in them, their language and customs, they’ll buy you all kind of presents, boy!”
