Can you hear me now?

Cell phone design took an unexpected turn around here. Unexpected to me, I mean. In 1997 I got a phone that was your basic non-folding candy bar style, about the size and heft of one and a half twix sticks. I could just about conceal it in my palm, and I have small hands. When I brought it home, everyone thought I was kidding that it was a phone - compared to the heavy black folders and brick-like Nokias in the states then, mine looked like a novelty cigarette lighter. Except it wasn't as heavy.

Ten years down the road, I expected them to have evolved into jaw implants, or foldable electronic LED paper, or holograms. But no. They're the size of a pack of cigarettes, except heavier. Granted, they have the internet and GPS and barcode info-readers and infrared sharing and 4 megapixel cameras and MP3 music and video players. And they play live TV on Aquos screens in wide format. And record it, and show you program guides and subtitles. (It seems to be the TV screen and functions that make them heavy - there are some ultra slim ones without TV.)

Getting the phones was the most harrowing thing we've done since we've been here. The rate plans have 40-page booklets to explain them. I think that is a story for another day, but, in short, text messages cost a lot, email is cheap, and a plan for the same price that got me a gazillion minutes a month at home gets 142 minutes here. The internet usage rate schedule has its own page of graphs. But limitless television is free.