Enkai

A large social gathering, usually with colleagues that, if it was a ride at a theme park, would carry the warning "Caution! You WILL get drunk".

One could almost be forgiven for thinking that the Japanese were an inhumanly formal and militaristic people ­until one went out drinking with them. There`s still elements of ritual & etiquette to an enkai - I was going to save this for the third entry on Japanese etiquette (the one with no reference to language whatsoever), but since it comes up now...food appears to be an accompaniment to drink. You take it from communal plates with the other end of your chopsticks, but on the two enkai I`ve been to, I`ve been the only one to bother with this and as a result, become a hyper polite performing monkey. I know it`s not a myth concocted by a mischievous sprite because when I do it, people tend to go "Oooooooo". I`m sure many an obaasan and ojisan would be delighted at my table manners. But an enkai is mostly about drinking, the entree on Saturday being a bottle of beer each.

I really like this - everybody pours everybody elses drink for them. If later on you happen to run out and fancy some more, just pour some beer into another persons glass & they`ll be sure to return the favour. Nobody drinks until the Kampai (toast) is called. When it was called on Saturday, there was a palpable release of tension, and the evening began in earnest.

I saw a side to everyone that I never dreamed possible (except for Nakamoto sensei. I always knew she was barking mad) - even the Koucho & Kyoto senseis (Principal & Vice Principal), usually uncompromising pillars of dignity and procedure became the red-faced, slightly sweaty beer monster who is everybodys friend. The Koucho sensei was hopping around all the tables, being provided with chopsticks, food and alcohol by the lesser teachers who wanted to make a good impression - many things remind me of comedy. I couldn`t help thinking of Mel Brooks in A Brief History of the World part 1, constantly saying "It`s good to be King". When he finally reached my table, he turned to me and said "Eigo wa dame da" (roughly, "It`s impossible for me to speak English") to which I naturally responded "Nihongo wa dame da". We cackled drunkenly, clinked our glasses of sake and left it at that. The Kyoto sensei, Yamada sensei (the first two syllables of his name mean "mountain" and by thunder he lives up to it) is a colossal man with an even bigger voice, who surprised me enormously when he started speaking Spanish, running through a list of the Kyoto senseis in Kawasaki, saying each one was "mi amigo".

Saturdays enkai marked the end of the school chorus competition - that itself was an interesting experience (for the first hour and a half). Everybody sang, not just the music geeks, as every class was competing against each other, whilst Yoshimizu sensei frantically took notes and chose the winner. Back to the enkai...everybody made a speech, including me, but that only consisted of "seto wa subarashii deshita!" (the students were brilliant!), and me trying to express the rest of my feelings about the event through mime, a little dance and no doubt very excited and rather slurred English. The Home Room teachers of the classes that won prozes had to speak in "humble speech", which apparently is hard enough even when you`re sober. Which nobody was.

Suddenly, a very senior teacher stood up to give his speech, and everybody clapped their hands together and bowed their heads, as if in prayer. I followed suit, thinking it to be a solemn moment. Not so. They were in fact making fun of said teacher because he is slightly round, relentlessly cheerful, has no hair and therefore looks like a Buddha.

The night eventually descended into Karaoke, as was to be expected. With other pressing engagements, I only sang one song, my view of the lyrics to Lady Madonna being temporarily obstructed playfully by a drunken Buddha...I would very much like to have seen the Kyoto sensei sing...ah well, the summer holidays are only a month away, heh-heh-heh...