My Good Luck Friend (acceptance in the ghetto)
7th Aug, 2006
Although my predecessor has been kindly introducing me to a plethora of locals and thus ensuring we always have a party to go to, tonight was my first enkai in the traditional sense. The two of us, and four salarymen from the Board of Education.
We were ferried into one of Kyoto's innumerable back alleyways and past the decorative curtains that held cover for a traditional sashimi restaurant. As we took our places, I lost all fear of food as my focus shifted to the seating arrangements – my predecessor (an attractive young blonde) and I were seated opposite each other, each nestled between two men.
Everyone has their role at an enkai – members are seated by honour, ordering is decided based on knowledge and superiority, and everyone is expected to conduct themselves by a strict set of social guidelines. For men, it means sitting about comfortably, plucking food from a score of interesting dishes amidst boisterous chatter and a steady flow of beer. For women, it means hostessing. Sitting on your knees, looking petite, laughing at the men's bad jokes, over-reacting to everything they show and tell you. I'm assured things are more relaxed at school enkai, where the men are all co-workers, but when it comes to affairs of the Board of Education, everyone is your boss, so you don't make waves.
It's difficult to continue to act surprised by magic tricks suitable for children and traditional dishes you've tried plenty of times before, when the entire time your head is filled with the recurring notion that you're behaving like some kind of cultural whore. But luckily, I'm a good actor.
My predecessor and I were finally released into the night, offering our deepest gratitude for what seemed in my mind like a terribly insulting experience. I wonder how long it'll take this country to crush that determined streak of western feminist values. Walking home from the station, we unanimously decided, in true western style, that ice-cream was required to satisfy our (already full) stomachs. After a quick appraisal of the 7-11, I insisted we gaijin-smash our way home – that is, eating as we went.
With the ice-cream already enhancing my mood, I was delighted by the emergence of an eager black cat from the shrine near our apartment block, drawn by the sound of my predecessor dropping something in the garbage shed and keen to investigate if it was edible. I guess I'm just too excited by animals, because no one else seems this keen on strays. Regardless, my excitement doubled when trotting after the first cat came a tiny black kitten. I instinctively fell to my knees and attempted to coax it to me. Presumably it was blinded by my gaijin charm, as it bounced over, mewing curiously, and climbed into my lap.
After a long and draining enkai, comfort from this unassuming animal was precisely what I needed. I lifted it gently into my arms and offered it the remainder of my ice-cream, which it set upon with much vigour. Had I been alone, I'd have happily remained there until its attention was torn by a cicada or old drinking straw or whatever cats find more entertaining than humans, but was conscious of my company, so set the kitten and the ice-cream down to allow the meal to be concluded in good time.
The embarrassment of the evening had been entirely lifted, and rest assured if I see the kitten again, I'll be sure to fetch it something to eat. Being in the ghetto, you need to be on the look out for good signs – thus I consider the black cat that crossed my path to be my local good luck charm.
Although my predecessor has been kindly introducing me to a plethora of locals and thus ensuring we always have a party to go to, tonight was my first enkai in the traditional sense. The two of us, and four salarymen from the Board of Education.
We were ferried into one of Kyoto's innumerable back alleyways and past the decorative curtains that held cover for a traditional sashimi restaurant. As we took our places, I lost all fear of food as my focus shifted to the seating arrangements – my predecessor (an attractive young blonde) and I were seated opposite each other, each nestled between two men.
Everyone has their role at an enkai – members are seated by honour, ordering is decided based on knowledge and superiority, and everyone is expected to conduct themselves by a strict set of social guidelines. For men, it means sitting about comfortably, plucking food from a score of interesting dishes amidst boisterous chatter and a steady flow of beer. For women, it means hostessing. Sitting on your knees, looking petite, laughing at the men's bad jokes, over-reacting to everything they show and tell you. I'm assured things are more relaxed at school enkai, where the men are all co-workers, but when it comes to affairs of the Board of Education, everyone is your boss, so you don't make waves.
It's difficult to continue to act surprised by magic tricks suitable for children and traditional dishes you've tried plenty of times before, when the entire time your head is filled with the recurring notion that you're behaving like some kind of cultural whore. But luckily, I'm a good actor.
My predecessor and I were finally released into the night, offering our deepest gratitude for what seemed in my mind like a terribly insulting experience. I wonder how long it'll take this country to crush that determined streak of western feminist values. Walking home from the station, we unanimously decided, in true western style, that ice-cream was required to satisfy our (already full) stomachs. After a quick appraisal of the 7-11, I insisted we gaijin-smash our way home – that is, eating as we went.
With the ice-cream already enhancing my mood, I was delighted by the emergence of an eager black cat from the shrine near our apartment block, drawn by the sound of my predecessor dropping something in the garbage shed and keen to investigate if it was edible. I guess I'm just too excited by animals, because no one else seems this keen on strays. Regardless, my excitement doubled when trotting after the first cat came a tiny black kitten. I instinctively fell to my knees and attempted to coax it to me. Presumably it was blinded by my gaijin charm, as it bounced over, mewing curiously, and climbed into my lap.
After a long and draining enkai, comfort from this unassuming animal was precisely what I needed. I lifted it gently into my arms and offered it the remainder of my ice-cream, which it set upon with much vigour. Had I been alone, I'd have happily remained there until its attention was torn by a cicada or old drinking straw or whatever cats find more entertaining than humans, but was conscious of my company, so set the kitten and the ice-cream down to allow the meal to be concluded in good time.
The embarrassment of the evening had been entirely lifted, and rest assured if I see the kitten again, I'll be sure to fetch it something to eat. Being in the ghetto, you need to be on the look out for good signs – thus I consider the black cat that crossed my path to be my local good luck charm.
