It's all part of the job, or enkai: the Japanese office party

Last week marked the second time that I have attended an enkai, the first being in August soon after I got here, it thus being a welcome party for myself and a few others. That one ended in sake bombs, chugging contests and karaoke.

The enkai last Wednesday, was again to say goodbye to a few people in the office (every year the prefectural government shuffles around teachers, administrators and city officials, for reasons that I am not too clear of and that don't always make sense...apparently few people stay in one position for more than ten years max) and to welcome a few others. This transition called for, as all enkai's do, a gathering of city official for eating and mass consumption of alcohol. It is in this setting that roles become more relaxed (thought they usually return to their previous rigidness the next day, give or take a few) and as always everyone is fluent in the language of their choice. Obviously in this case, Japanese and English with a touch or pervert.

It is customary at an enkai to wander the room with a bottle of beer or sake and to fill one persons glass, who then reciprocates by filling yours. As in any party, with the increase in consumption, the volume level rises and inversely, inhibitions and ability to police your words, decreases. Such was the case with one particular enkai honoree.

There is a new Community Center head and he was quite sloshed by the time I met him. A close-talker would be an understatement and he had a hard time with my name. Instead he decided to use other English names he knew. First it was Katherine, which soon turned into Rice as referring to Condi, which then transformed in to omelet rice, a popular dish in Japan (and which most are surprised does not exist in the U.S.). This reference to omelet rice then led into a suggestion that I can utilize ketchup as make-up, which would be especially fitting as lipstick. All the while, this new community center head is edging closer to me with his imbalance, and eventually grabs areas better not mentioned. Shifting away on my part aleves the awkwardness and things are more light-hearted as he continues to refer to me as "rice" and takes profile pictures with his keitai. It only got better with a loud fart (accompanied by a leg life, cross-legged style). A nice punctuation to the meeting.

But on a lighter, nicer note, the buzz created a more comfortable setting to talk to other, less drunk co-workers, get to know them a bit better and get a better gage of what they actually think of me. I am not the failure of a teacher I have suspected at times and rather apparently there is some disappointment that I am not staying another year. Nice to know, despite it making me feel some guilt. And for some it seemed, beer provided the realization that making attempts to speak to me in Japanese would not be met with a confused stare. Slow and grammatically incorrect though it may be, I can hold a conversation.


(Mac, another ALT, and said new co-worker)