In Japan, enkai are office drinking parties, but they're performed with some pomp and ceremony so it's not just an excuse to get drunk. Not that I blame them: the Japanese workers are very industrious, especially the teachers, and need to cut loose once in a while.
It's the end of the school year now, and for the past month or so, the third grade junior high schoolers are taking entrance exams for their high schools. If you want to go to a prestigious high school, it's basically a fast track to university. Naturally, the tests are very difficult. If the students don't want to be public officials, teachers, engineers, etc., they can elect to go to a local high school where the tests are less difficult or they can enter a tech school.
Of course, the students are encouraged to aim high, so all the students take a few different tests and study their asses off to pass them. The teachers are naturally very supportive of the kids and do everything in their power to help them pass. Sometimes, that includes praying for the students.
I told the teachers at 南中 a month ago that I'm leaving Japan. Just as they including my welcoming ceremony into their "Start of the School Year" enkai, they added my goodbye party to their "Pray for the Third Grade" enkai earlier this month.
On the night of the party, I ran into another of the teachers at Kitakami Station. She doesn't speak English, but we were able to chat a little in Japanese about the sudden snowy weather we were having, living in Kitakami, and my plans for travel after Japan. Apparently, she's been to Milan and France and highly recommended Paris, though she'd only been there for a day.
We met Auntie sensei in Hanamaki and drove together to the restaurant. I never knew Auntie had such particular tastes: before we went to the party, she stopped at a few konbini stores to pick up some non-alcoholic beers (drinking and driving is MEGA illegal in Japan, and of course, she was our chauffeur). However, she came out of both stores empty handed.
"Wow," I said. "That's surprising that they don't have any alcohol-free for you!"
"Oh they do," she said. "Just not my brand." This woman is serious about her "free."
The restaurant was very traditional Japanese style: a small parlor on the ground floor that looked like someone's breakfast nook in their house and connected to the kitchen. Through a curtain and after leaving your shoes on some shelves, you climb the very steep and someone dingy carpeted steps. Upstairs, shoji screens are opened wide on a large tatami room with a few low tables and several floor cushions.
Auntie talked to me discreetly as we paid our way. "We've been here before. The first time, we all thought,'This place looks very old,'...maybe you think it's not so nice...but the food is very very good!"
I wasn't sure if she was just going through the humble motions of apologizing for not being in a hotel banquet hall (very Japanese) or being sincere. I assured her I was impressed and loved the look of the room. I love traditional Japanese style and she knows it, so I remained a little mystified. They put me in the place of honor next to the principal and in front of the tokonoma-- a beauty alcove with a few encased dolls, a calligraphy scroll and sprig of plant.
Suddenly, I was very aware of a large, low table to one side of the room against the wall. On the table were some sake bottles, cups, vases and other Shinto accessories like paper talismans and laurel branches.
After a few minutes, once everyone had arrived, Auntie sensei gestured for me to get up from the table and join the rest of the teachers in front of the table. We knelt on the tatami mats in neat rows, formally folding our hands on our laps...or the ladies did, anyway. I looked around and noticed the men all assume a "samurai" style of holding their hands on their thighs, elbows out to the sides.
One of the teachers pushed a button on the CD player by the table. Shinto flutes and drums played slowly from the speakers. The shoji screen door behind us opened and two teachers came into the room dressed in Shinto shrine acolyte clothes. The woman read from a paper, what I assumed were the formal prayers. The young man, one of the new teachers, stood at the table and performed the clapping and waved a paper wand as she prayed.
Once cued, the rest of us stood, clapped and bowed our heads. Then in turn, the principal, vice principal, and third year class head teachers took their turns receiving the laurel branches from the female teacher performing the rites. They each places the branches on the altar, clapped, bowed, and went back to their places in the crowd.
When the ceremony was over, it was like I was at a completely different party: from solemnity to frivolity in .02 seconds flat! We all sat down as the beer and "free" arrived and we began pouring for each other.
There were the traditional speeches, a few announcements about the upcoming tests, and then the food arrived. For the time we ate, we abandoned all school decorum and just enjoyed the meal. Auntie sat across from me. When the tuna and salmon sashimi arrived, she asked if I liked salmon. I told her yes and suddenly, her portion was in my dish!
She was like that all evening, handing me extra portions of shrimp, onion and lemon fry, pouring more beer for me and giving me her servings of sake.
I was astounded at the variety! She was right, the food was delicious...but so varied and not at all consistent in style: we started with sashimi, then had a fried shrimp and lemon dish, tempura, then a HUGE dish of kombu, hard-boiled egg, tofu, fish cake and a chunk of daikon the size of a roll of Duct Tape all soaked in a thin soy broth. After that, several large dishes of salad and pork tonkatsu came to the table. I love the family style of dining here...that's something I can't wait to take back home with me. Instead of saving "family style" for Italian or Chinese restaurants or holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas, I'd like to start doing this communal dining style more often!
It just feels more loving.
Anyway, towards the end of the evening, we hit the part of the party where I was recognized. Auntie gave a small speech in Japanese and told the teachers my plans to go back to America and pursue a career in publishing or writing. I had told her I'd be living with roommates (well, one anyway. Heads up, Nate!) and she presented me with a gift. I stood and opened it for the room to see.
It's a beautiful noren, those panel curtains with the famous "Great Wave" painting from the series of views of Mt. Fuji! I thanked her over and over. Then I was asked to give a speech. In some rough Japanese, I thanked them, told them I have many happy memories from my time there and that I will always remember the spirit and kindness they showed me.
Next week will be my last visit to that school. Already, one student came to me and told me in beautiful English, "I'm sad to hear that you are leaving" and reduced me to a quivering puddle of emotion. It's going to be rough when I have to stand onstage and give a speech to them. It would be so much easier if I could treat it like the enkai where everyone's a little glassy-eyed from beer and giggling in mirth.
Of course, I'll still be an employee so getting drunk pre-speech is probably not a good idea. Maybe I can spike the school's water system with some gin...
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