Salem Teikyo University

The circular announces a seminar at the local college, not the topic you might expect for what appears to be a typical Appalachian mountain hamlet: "Japanese and Americans: Likes/Dislikes, Values, Customs, Differences." Ever since last July, when Salem College announced a merger with Japan's Teikyo University, things unexpected have become the norm.

As a country kid growing up on a cattle farm in West Virginia, Dale Jones' chances of finding the Japanese girlfriend he always dreamed of were mighty slim. But in 1989, the world Jones lived on suddenly got a whole lot smaller. Salem College--the little, perennially poor, 101-year-old liberal arts school in north-central West Virginia where he was a communications major--was bought by wealthy Teikyo University of Japan. Now, Salem College had been rescued from imminent closure.

As a country kid growing up on a cattle farm in West Virginia, Dale Jones' chances of finding the Japanese girlfriend he always dreamed of were mighty slim. But in 1989, the world Jones lived on suddenly got a whole lot smaller. Salem College--the little, perennially poor, 101-year-old liberal arts school in north-central West Virginia where he was a communications major--was bought by wealthy Teikyo University of Japan. Now, Salem College had been rescued from imminent closure.

THE OLD SALEM COLLEGE tennis courts on Main Street, Tomo and his Japanese pals Oni and Kai methodically slam low base-line shots at each other over a sagging net. A Sony boom-box blares a Motley Crue tape. Six local teen-age girls stand around smoking cigarettes, drinking soda and talking to several other Japanese boys. As usual, an after-school circus of 25 or so bicyclists, basketball players, skateboarders and spectators swirls around. But Tomo, Oni and Kai don't notice.

THE OLD SALEM COLLEGE tennis courts on Main Street, Tomo and his Japanese pals Oni and Kai methodically slam low base-line shots at each other over a sagging net. A Sony boom-box blares a Motley Crue tape. Six local teen-age girls stand around smoking cigarettes, drinking soda and talking to several other Japanese boys. As usual, an after-school circus of 25 or so bicyclists, basketball players, skateboarders and spectators swirls around. But Tomo, Oni and Kai don't notice.

When it opens its new plum-colored biotechnology laboratory at UC Irvine today, Hitachi Ltd. will become the first Japanese corporation to locate a research facility at the heart of a U.S. university. The laboratory, called Plumwood House, marks a new approach for Japanese companies trying to tap into the latest technology spawned at American universities. Until now, the Japanese have taken a subtle approach, building research laboratories on the fringes of major U.S.

Less than 72 hours before Auburn held on for a 22-17 road victory over Mississippi in the 1994 opener, Terry Bowden is wired up and waiting in an Auburn studio. Via satellite, he is about to do a live shot with WBMG-TV in Birmingham about 110 miles to the northwest. When the newscast goes to a commercial, Bowden greets sports director Doug Bell, and the news comes through Bowden's earpiece that Bell's 10-month-old son, Brooks, already is 28 inches long.

The circular announces a seminar at the local college, not the topic you might expect for what appears to be a typical Appalachian mountain hamlet: "Japanese and Americans: Likes/Dislikes, Values, Customs, Differences." Ever since last July, when Salem College announced a merger with Japan's Teikyo University, things unexpected have become the norm.