When I read an interview with a movie star or an athlete, sometimes they'll ask something like "What was it that changed your life?" I'm not famous or anything, but if I were to try to come up with an answer to that question I'd probably say "Net chess, a mystery coin, and an uncharted country."

I have to admit, it's a strange little list—kind of like sandaibanashi in rakugo. My friends in other countries would probably jump in at this point and start asking, rakugo? What's that? Sandaibanashi? What does that mean? I'd think for a minute, and then I'd say "Rakugo is a traditional storytelling art in Japan, and sandaibanashi is making up a story and weaving three key words or phrases into it," or something like that.

But my friends won't settle for an explanation like that—they'll want me to show them how it's actually done. Having gone too far to back out, I'll have to wrack my brains trying to figure out how to work three phrases into a story.

All right, I'll begin. Naturally, the words I have to use are "Net chess," "mystery coin," and "uncharted country."

It was on a Net chessboard that I encountered an opponent whose Japanese was a bit strange.

>>Konnichiwa. You're a person who plays shogi, right?

The minute I made my first move, this message from my opponent appeared on the chat screen. Coming out of the blue as it did, the question took me by surprise, and without even remembering to say hello I responded with a question of my own.

>>How could you tell?

>>If you move that piece first, in shogi the hisha can advance, but in chess it delays your defense and you can't expand your territory. So you must be a shogi person, not a chess person.

While replying, my opponent had also moved a piece. He or she sounded like a pretty good player and had guessed correctly. I confessed.

>>Actually, this is my first game of chess. I just learned how it differs from shogi. Sorry I'm so bad.

Chess is more or less the Western version of shogi, so the pieces and the rules are roughly the same, but there are plenty of differences, too. One of my university classmates had taught me the basic rules, and I wanted to take a crack at it, so here I was on the Yahoo! Japan game site.

>>Don't worry about it. Everyone starts out as a beginner.

>>But I'm amazed you could spot that after a single move—you must be a great detective.

>>Well, when I was a boy I wanted to be a detective.

Even as we chatted the game was progressing. Although he barely paused to think before making his moves, my opponent had accurately identified the weak points in my defense and was making inroads into my territory. I was overmatched, and I'd begun to find the conversation more interesting than the chess game.

>>Are you by any chance from another country?

Since this was Yahoo! Japan's chess site, I'd assumed that my opponent was from Japan, like me, but he didn't quite sound like a native speaker of Japanese. National borders don't mean a thing on the Internet, though, and it occurred to me that he was probably someone from a different country who knew Japanese.

>>Well, well, now you're the great detective. I'm American. My name's Scott.

>>I'm Shota.

>>I learned Japanese for manga.

>>For manga?

>>If you can read Japanese then you can read titles that aren't available in English. Also, with Japanese manga, reading them in Japanese is the best, right?

He sounded like a real fanatic. He must have come to a Japanese Net chess site to practice his Japanese.

>>Japanese manga and anime seem to be popular overseas too.

>>Of course. My favorites are Kindaichi Shonen and Tantei Gakuen.

>>I see. So you like mystery stories.

>>Yes. Detecting is like chess. It expands the imagination.

>>In Japanese that's sozo or sozoryoku.

>>Yes. My favorite English word is imagination, and my favorite Japanese word is manga.

I work part-time at a big electronics store in Akihabara, so I see a lot of foreigners like this. They buy up lots of manga- and anime-related products, so much that the store where I work remodeled one section of the appliance department and turned it into a section devoted to anime DVDs. Souvenirs of Japan sell well, too, so now they also have a hodgepodge display of chopsticks, paper fans, Japanese dolls, T-shirts embossed with kanji—I'm not even sure what kind of store it is anymore. After I typed in this joking comment, Scott latched onto a strange point.

>>Akihabara! The center of Japanese culture.

He seemed to be somewhat mistakenly impressed. Before I had a chance to correct him, though, he continued.

>>Here's an idea. You teach me Japan, and I'll teach you chess. How about it?

>>Hmm. Being taught chess, um . . .

I'd only visited the site on a whim, and I wasn't that interested in getting good at chess. I didn't seem to be at a level where I could use chess to expand my imagination; I'd been completely outplayed from the opening move and was on the verge of being checkmated.

>>Okay, how about if I teach you some lateral thinking puzzles instead of chess? They're very interesting.

>>Lateral thinking puzzles?

In reply to my question, Scott offered an example. He said it came from a book by a British guy named Paul Sloane.

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A man walked into a pub and said to the bartender, "Wa-water, please." The bartender pulled out a gun and pointed it at the man. Then the man thanked the bartender and walked out, without having drunk anything.
Can you explain what happened?

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I couldn't come up with an explanation. It was supposed to be a thinking puzzle, but I had no idea what to think, or how. When I informed Scott of this, I got back a message that somehow seemed to convey hidden glee.

>>Let your imagination expand and picture the story in your mind, and I think you'll find the solution. If you'll meet me again at this site tomorrow at this time, I'll tell you the answer.