Aisatsu And Enkai

This week I was invited to the welcoming Enkai (party) for new staff members at my school. A testament to how seriously they are taken in Japan, I was invited to the Enkai before I was even informed when I would be visiting the school for my Aisatsu (introduction) - just two hours prior to the Enkai.

Meeting someone new can be stressful. Meeting around 40 new people is somewhat more stressful. Meeting 40 new people, most of whom don’t speak your language, with the knowledge that you will be spending a few hours drinking heavily with them before spending the next year working alongside them…

My Aisatsu was in the late afternoon, when the few students who were coming in early to prepare for club activities and get a head start on their studies had left for the day. I was ushered into the main entrance, changing into my indoor shoes and leaving my outdoor shoes in a box which was unsurprisingly just a little bit too snug for my UK size 15s. This type of thing becomes a trend when you’re near enough twice the size of the average Japanese man.

A typical Japanese school staff room.

I ducked through the staff room door and stood awkwardly to the side as I was first introduced to one of the JTEs in a flurry of incomprehensible sounds which serves as my motivation to urgently learn Japanese. As I smiled awkwardly, I was then nudged forward to give my self-introduction to the rest of the staff members in Japanese:

“Nice to meet you.

My name is Joshua Rippon.

I’m from Nottingham, England.

I promise to try my hardest.

I look forward to working with you all.”

Just the simplest of sentences was met with encouraging applause, if only for the acceptable pronunciation. I then met the Kouchou-sensei (Principal) as he exited his office, and repeated my self-introduction, to which he responded:

“Do you like beer?”

“Yes.”

“Whiskey?”

“Even better.”

“Sake? Shochu?”

“I...like all alcohol.”

A smirk flashed across his face as he tilted his head back in exaggerated contemplation. I could tell at that point that my Kouchou-sensei would be a bit of a party animal. I took my leave of the school and eagerly waited at my apartment for 6 o’clock to roll around.

The Enkai was being held at a traditional Japanese Izakaya, a classier version of a pub where you have to take your shoes off outside your private room. I sat with the other new staff members in the bar area whilst the room was being set up. It’s hard to make small talk when you know just enough of a language to buy groceries, so I settled for a smile before being ushered into the room.

After introductions and speeches which I nodded along mindlessly to, we poured each other drinks (a rule of an Enkai being that you can’t pour your own) and toasted “Kanpai!” (cheers). Over the next two hours we were served with a banquet of sushi and other Japanese delicacies, washed down with all you can (nomihoudai) drink beer, whiskey and shochu.

Food at an Enkai can encompass a whole range of Japanese dishes.

Contrary to the usual reserved demeanour Japanese people tend to have, at an Enkai even the most formal of individuals let loose. Despite knowing no one and being out of my depth in terms of language, I had an amazing time talking with the three JTEs, and struggling through half formed sentences with other teachers. It came time for the Enkai to end and people to head home, after all this was on a Wednesday night.

“Joshua, do you like to sing?...Would you like to come to Karaoke?”

Of course I would go to karaoke. And thus flashed by another couple hours of nomihoudai, over the top singing and out of nowhere comradery with the attendees, as surreal as it was utterly enjoyable. Perhaps it had something to do with my Western-imbued ability to chug beers. I left that evening close to midnight, feeling on top of the world.

Which is great, because surprisingly enough, the next morning I didn’t feel quite so perky. I love Japan.