There's a Bed in Back

As I think I might have mentioned, October is a month for festivals. Last night, Makiko-san from the Joyo International Exchange Association and her friend Kaori-san (who is just absolutely delicious) went to the first part of a two-day festival and took me and Ray with them. This particular festival goes like this: they cut down a tree from a local shrine each year, and then burn it in a giant bonfire. Since gods inhabit the shrine, and thus the wood, warming yourself by the fire means the gods bless you. Thus, if you warm yourself by this fire, you will not get sick for the next year. It’s really pretty cool.

Last night, though, it was raining rather heavily, and so the four of us were the only people to come check out the bonfire. Today, the area will be awash with people and shops and games, but last night, it was just a giant fire, a priest, the local volunteer fire department, and us. Tomorrow when the festivities begin, a small portable shrine will be paraded around the area. Said shrine is housed in what was referred to as a community building, where the aforementioned fire department had set up shop for the night.

Upon seeing us, one of the firefighters outside attending to the fire invited us into the community building to check out the little shrines. Inside, since there weren’t any people around to caution about the fire, and since the rain kept the fire to a minimum, the volunteer firefighters were just hanging out in the community building drinking beer eating. Upon seeing the foreigner (they initially thought Ray was Japanese) there was all kinds of excitement. I was invited to drink with them, and while I tried to politely turn down the offer, they considered it too… how should I say… unique of an experience to miss out on drinking with a foreigner. I was forcibly sat down and beer was put in front of me.

This became my first real taste of celebrity foreigner status. As you may know, in Japan, you don’t pour your own drinks, and it’s sometimes considered an honor to pour the drinks of guests. My glass would be empty for less than a second before it was immediately refilled. This was good in that I now had unlimited free beer, but bad in that I had to teach the next day. I felt like I was being interviewed, or maybe interrogated, by the onslaught of questions I was asked, and I feel really bad for Ray, as he had to constantly act as interpreter.

Whenever someone new would walk into the room, there would be the immediate exclamation of “OH! Gaijin!!!!” Then, questions would be asked as to what exactly a gaijin is doing drinking with the firefighters, and more excitement would typically be generated.

Most of the men were already quite drunk, and questions typically leaned towards my status as a single male. For one of the guys, who talked to me the most, he could not understand why I was not spending every night having sex with a harem of Japanese women. That was actually a translated quote. When I explained that not speaking Japanese created difficulties in picking up women, he immediately decided he would rectify the situation. His goal for the rest of the evening was to try and set me up with Kaori, which while one would think is awesome at first, considering the fact that she’s attractive and really nice, I don’t think a wasted 40 year-old saying to her that “they have a bed in the building” (once again a translated quote) really helped me win her over.

I do believe my Japanese is getting better. I’m now able to ask questions rather successfully, typically who, what, where, when, why. Unfortunately, I have no idea what the answers are. For example, today at school, I ventured out to have a smoke. At Joyo Chu, the smoking situation kinda sucks, because instead of just walking outside the gates to get my nicotine addiction, I have to walk around the block to a little pavilion to have a cigarette.

When I arrived there, I noticed a Japanese high school student sitting there, thankfully not smoking (as that would have put me in a conundrum of trying to explain that smoking is bad). I then began to, for no particular reason, grill him on where he goes to school and why he’s not there. I asked him where he’s from and what grade he is. Really, I just wanted to practice my Japanese on this poor kid. He gave me answers, but I have no idea what he said. For all I know, he was plotting the conquest of Latvia, but I just sat there and smiled, replying “Is that so” to all of his responses. It’s kind of depressing how often I say that. People could be telling me anything from “I love you” to “I just killed a small child and I’m blaming the murder on you” and my only response is a smile, a nod, and “is that so.”

Today in class, we were doing a speaking test. Each student would come out into the hallway, and we would do a practice dialogue that they had memorized. The first line was “Please help yourself.” One student came out, and instead, simply stated in a loud voice “PLEASE YOURSELF!” I’m not sure, but I think she just commanded me to masturbate in the hallway. Several other students made the same mistake, but I think the worst was when one young girl came into the hallway and shouted “PLEASE ME!” I’m glad she didn’t understand why I started laughing uncontrollably.