KONPAI! (CHEERS!)

Spontaneously written by one of my students.  At my school, students only need 40% to pass their classes.

Sunday I was invited to my first enkai, a work-mandated drinking party.  It's not uncommon for an entire Japanese office to go out and get completely trashed one night, only to show up barely sober the next morning, making no mention of the fact that your boss danced on a table and told ribald jokes all night, or that your most uptight coworker was spotted flirting outrageously, and later puking profusely in a sink.   It's a good way for everyone to let off steam and bond, especially if you are the gaijin.  Although, it should be noted that the policy of "what happens at the enkai, stays at the enkai" only applies to Japanese people- if you're the gaijin, you're fair game for gossip and jokes in the years to come. 

Drinking is not required; in fact, a lot of people don't drink a drop because they have to drive home, and in Japan, there is a ZERO alcohol policy when driving.  Even if you've only had a sip of beer, if you get pulled over and register even the most minute BAC, you're looking at tens of thousands of dollars in fines...at the very least.  I thought, being the new gaijin teacher, and what's more, the only woman at this particular enkai, I would start out with a beer, just to be social, and then I'd switch to tea or soft drinks.  Thus began my gradual undoing.

If you have ever gone drinking with me, you know several things: 1) I don't drink often, because 2) I can be a bit of a lightweight (save for those weird nights when my Scots Irish genes kick in and I can throw back 6 beers and a couple of whiskey shots and barely feel a buzz), and 3) when I do become inebriated, I either a) fall asleep, which is neither entertaining nor fun for my friends, or b) quickly become sick, which is not fun for anyone.

Keeping this in mind, I let my fellow teachers order me a beer, which I nursed for about half an hour.  Worried that I didn't like the beer, they ordered me something else- a drink called Calpis (pronounced Cal-piss, which sounds disturbingly like Cow-piss).  Calpis is a lemon-lime soda that is popular in Japan and looks milky, even though there is no milk in it.  The drink arrived, and they tried to exchange my half-drunk beer for the Calpis. My pride (moreover, my German pride) could not permit this.  To chuck away perfectly good beer? Nein!  So insistent were my coworkers in taking back the beer, though, that I had to gently pry it from their grips, and then chug the whole thing in one gulp. At this juncture I should probably tell you that I was sitting with DL, the other JET, our supervisor, the head of the English department, several Japanese teachers of English, a couple of other miscellaneous teachers, and...kocho sensei, our illustrious, sweet, and gentle principal.  As I drank, I thought "This could be a really terrible, unladylike and rude thing to do, and I may have just made myself "that teacher" that the staff will talk about long after I'm gone." Silence settled around the table. I put down my glass.  "YATTA!!!!!" ("YEAH!!!")  Applause all around.  Said my buddy, Vegetable Sensei (after he brought me vegetables from his garden, which I blogged about a few weeks ago), "Ah, so! I am thinking that you are Japanese! You are not mottainai ("wasteful").  This is very good!  Like Japanese person!"  All around, it was decided: I am Japanese.

The rest of the night passed quickly.  The Calpis, I discovered after a big gulp, was actually a mixed drink.  The base was umeshu, a sweet plum wine.  Assuming that I did want to drink because of my initial choice of the beer, the teachers ordered me a succession of libations: sake, more umeshu, a kind of Korean sake, some sort of gin thing, and a whiskey.  All things told, I had about 7-8 drinks, ate a whole bunch of food, and then went and sang karaoke with everyone for a couple of hours before making the last train home.  All because I said yes to one beer.

A gift presented to me by the faculty at the enkai: indoor slippers for winter.  Research was done into my shoe size and favorite color.

PRESERVING THE WA

The situation: DL and I are invited to eat okonomiyaki* with a couple of teachers one day.  The vice principal*** suggests that we go eat tempura donburi** instead, which he thinks is better. 

The rub: The okonomiyaki place was chosen as a gesture to DL, who loves the dish.  However, it would be an affront to not heed the suggestion of the vice principal.

Suggested course of action: From one of the Japanese teachers of English: "If I may suggest one thing.  You see, the vice principal thinks you should go to eat the tempura donburi.  But the teachers don't want to disappoint DL.  So I am thinking that maybe you should maybe go to eat the tempura donburi for lunch, and then for dinner we will go eat okonomiyaki. Is this OK?"

This kind of compromise is called preserving the wa (harmony), and is an important cultural aspect in Japan that manifests itself in different ways.  It could involve changing your lunch plans because your boss thinks a different restaurant is better, or stepping down as prime minister because the country has lost confidence in your political party after your response to the March earthquake.  It pops up most frequently, however, in interactions with Japanese people where they refuse to say "no" or assert a strong opinion on a topic.  Even when asked a direct question, such as, "Do you want me to light this room on fire?," a Japanese person will respond, "Well, I am thinking that, you know, maybe it would be better if you put the matches down and read a book instead."  The key word in that sentence is "maybe." "Maybe" serves as a great qualifier, much like "but" does in a sentence like, "Yeah, that sounds great, but..." When I hear someone say "maybe" it is usually an indicator that they mean "No, and what I'm about to suggest to you is a better idea, in my opinion."

Thus, negotiating with the Japanese is difficult.  Take last week, when I was discussing my lesson plans with one of the teachers.  We were talking about our third year (senior) students, and he told me that the curriculum needed to focus on improving students' oral presentation skills in English, specifically through a long term group project. What would be a good idea for a project?

Me: "Well, we could invent a fictional country and have each group present a speech campaigning for leadership of the country and what they would do if they were elected."

Japanese Teacher of English (JTE): "Hmm, well, I really don't want them to focus on Japanese politics."

Me: "Oh, well, it wouldn't be about Japanese politics.  I would be a fictional country, and we wouldn't assign them specific political party platforms- they would have to come up with those themselves."

JTE: "Ah.  Yes. Well, you know, maybe it would be good to have them think about politics because they do not care, but we are about to elect another prime minister, and it would be good if they knew more about Japanese politics."

Me: "OK, but this would be a fictional country.  I was thinking that we could build their vocabulary regarding business, agriculture, politics, religion, etc.  And a campaign speech would give them a nice format for their presentation, so they have some structure."

JTE: "Mmm. Well, you know, maybe a better idea is that they all have to come up with an advertisement.  We have done this before.  But I do not know.  Maybe you have other ideas that are good.  Please be thinking and let me know."

Me: "OK, would you rather do the advertisement project? That sounds good."

JTE: "Well, be thinking and let me know what you think is best."

*a pancake layered with meat or fish, fried noodles, bbq sauce, spices, bonito flakes and drizzled with mayonnaise

**a rice bowl topped with tempura

***Side note: Interestingly, someone told me that the vice principal was a yakuza (Japanese gangster).  I was a little skeptical (all of his fingers are intact, for one thing, and most yakuza have had one of their pinky fingers chopped off), but intrigued.  Maybe 5 drinks into the enkai, I sidled up to my supervisor and asked if it were true that kyoto sensei was a yakuza.  He chuckled and said, "No, that's not true.  Kyoto sensei used to teach at rough school, and so to promote discipline, he let it be known that he had ties to the yakuza.”  In reality, he’s a nice guy who plays a lot of golf.