Here I Come Again
I am aware that I have not written here in quite a while. There are several reasons for this, from exhaustion as a result from sickness to having a shitton of work to do at any given time, but in the end, the main reason is pure unadulterated laziness. I’ll see if I can correct that.
Last week I went to my first bon enkai. The best translation for that is “a party to forget the previous year.” And what exactly is the best way to forget something? Massive quantities of alcohol, which the Japanese are all too happy to consume.
This particular bon enkai was for one of my junior high schools. It’s actually quite rare for an AET like myself to be invited to join, but still the invitation came out, and Suzie and I traveled to Kyoto to join in the festivities at a Chinese restaurant.
First, let me say this. The Japanese are, for the most part, a very reserved people. The adults are, at least (the kids are all too willing to grab my crotch or punch me in the balls. Sigh). At this particular school, maybe only three teachers spoke to me while I was there, with those three teachers being the English teachers. Beyond them, I was practically invisible, with everyone ignoring me. However, if you add alcohol, everything changes.
I discovered that no less then four additional teachers spoke English. What is this now? I tried talking to you people every day for two weeks and was only rewarded with blank stares. How is it that when sober, you can’t comprehend a single word I say, yet when drunk, you can ask me anything at all, from my weight to what kind of women I like? I am so incredibly confused by this.
In Japan, it’s customary for you to not pour your own drinks. It is, I suppose, something of an honor to pour drinks for other people, especially guests. I had a line of people waiting to pour me drinks, and god help me if my glass of beer was not finished by the time someone came around. If that happened, it would then be demanded that I chug my beer so that I may have another. That was fine at first, but then when it was sake and Japanese wine, well, the spiral towards intoxication came about quickly. I even wanted to try and moderate myself, but it’s difficult when you’re constantly being forced to drink more and more.
After the Chinese restaurant, about 10 of us went to Karaoke. It was me, Suzie, and 8 Japanese guys over the age of 40. Going to Karaoke. Wasted. Fun times were had by all. I was asked to try and sing a duet of Mamma Mia by Abba with one old guy who didn’t speak a word of English., but he was drunk enough to randomly shout out MAMMA MIA and dance around the booth. This is a guy who never spoke to me before, and when I next see him, won’t even acknowledge my existence, but for the evening, we were good friends. Such is the Japanese way, I suppose.
If you ever have the chance, get drunk with a group of old Japanese folk. There’s no one funnier… especially when they’re singing Nirvana.
Last week I went to my first bon enkai. The best translation for that is “a party to forget the previous year.” And what exactly is the best way to forget something? Massive quantities of alcohol, which the Japanese are all too happy to consume.
This particular bon enkai was for one of my junior high schools. It’s actually quite rare for an AET like myself to be invited to join, but still the invitation came out, and Suzie and I traveled to Kyoto to join in the festivities at a Chinese restaurant.
First, let me say this. The Japanese are, for the most part, a very reserved people. The adults are, at least (the kids are all too willing to grab my crotch or punch me in the balls. Sigh). At this particular school, maybe only three teachers spoke to me while I was there, with those three teachers being the English teachers. Beyond them, I was practically invisible, with everyone ignoring me. However, if you add alcohol, everything changes.
I discovered that no less then four additional teachers spoke English. What is this now? I tried talking to you people every day for two weeks and was only rewarded with blank stares. How is it that when sober, you can’t comprehend a single word I say, yet when drunk, you can ask me anything at all, from my weight to what kind of women I like? I am so incredibly confused by this.
In Japan, it’s customary for you to not pour your own drinks. It is, I suppose, something of an honor to pour drinks for other people, especially guests. I had a line of people waiting to pour me drinks, and god help me if my glass of beer was not finished by the time someone came around. If that happened, it would then be demanded that I chug my beer so that I may have another. That was fine at first, but then when it was sake and Japanese wine, well, the spiral towards intoxication came about quickly. I even wanted to try and moderate myself, but it’s difficult when you’re constantly being forced to drink more and more.
After the Chinese restaurant, about 10 of us went to Karaoke. It was me, Suzie, and 8 Japanese guys over the age of 40. Going to Karaoke. Wasted. Fun times were had by all. I was asked to try and sing a duet of Mamma Mia by Abba with one old guy who didn’t speak a word of English., but he was drunk enough to randomly shout out MAMMA MIA and dance around the booth. This is a guy who never spoke to me before, and when I next see him, won’t even acknowledge my existence, but for the evening, we were good friends. Such is the Japanese way, I suppose.
If you ever have the chance, get drunk with a group of old Japanese folk. There’s no one funnier… especially when they’re singing Nirvana.
posted by S A B at 2:35 AM
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