First-year welcome party

Having had both the faculty-wide, departmental, and apartmental welcome parties, the last party was tonight. This one was for all the freshman teachers. We got together at Haccho, which is termed a Chinese restaurant for reasons I can't figure out. After drawing lots, I found my seat between Ontsuka and Oishi. Ontsuka is a grammar teacher, and is the head of the first-year teachers this year.

Oishi is a math teacher, and is one of the more intimidating teachers at my schools. He practices karate, often in the afternoons in a practice room adjoining my English classroom. Most of the students are scared of him. For my first two years, he was a third-year teacher, meaning he handled the highest-level math classes. This year, however, he's a first-year teacher, which I find highly amusing. It's just about impossible to teach the first-years without having a sense of humor; even the harsh P.E. coaches laugh at times.

This marked the first time I'd talked to Oishi outside school. He's rather gruff, but has a good sense of humor. (He also laughs just like Dr. Hibbert, which makes it impossible for me not to like him.) He gave the toast, and he began by talking about Wii Fit. One of the things the game does is tell your age based on your fitness level. He was proud to announce that, according to Wii Fit, he's 26. (He's much closer to 60.)

After the toast, we tore into the food. While not entirely Japanese--sashimi surrounded by chicken wings, fried shrimp, and salad--the food wasn't what I would call Chinese. I talked with Oishi and Ontsuka about things I can't quite recall. It's fuzzy in part because Kimino-sensei decided to toast Oishi's youth.

The toast was supposed to be each person downing a beer in his honor. As Yakabe prepared to down his pint, Oishi stopped him and insisted Yakabe drink from a bowl filled with beer. Nobody seemed to have a problem with this, so I played along. Each person, in turn, guzzled a bowlful of beer. It finally came to me, and though I made a few pauses, I managed it.

Kimino later explained the significance of drinking that way. At some point in Japanese history, sharing a communal bowl for drinking was considered a strong display of trust. Passing a bowl among the group showed one wasn't afraid of being poisoned by the other members. At least, that's what I gathered from her explanation. I could be way off.

Anyway, I sat down next to Yoshihara, the art teacher, and we talked about Kamito-sensei. She's apparently struggling at the new school. There are lots of problem students, and she's a third-year teacher for the first time in her career. We moved on to talking about her art class.
Yuki, one of my English Club girls, is taking art class with her this year. One day last week, I found her poring over a label for a plastic bottle. It was a project for art class: designing a label for a drink product. Yuki's product was a play on a Japanese story analogous to Snow White: a witch gives a woman a poisoned apple. Inspired by this, Yuki was advertising juice made from that apple.

Yoshihara got a kick out of my noticing this. She explained that that was Yuki's second idea. Her first had been to sell a product that was straight-up poison. (She has a weird sense of humor.) Yoshihara had to talk her out of that, and they settled on the poison-apple juice.

As we were talking, I noticed that Kimino was still sitting seiza-style. Although we all assume that position during toasts and other official procedural things, almost everyone relaxes afterwards. Girls wearing skirts can't sit cross-legged, but they find positions more comfortable than seiza. Kimino, however, seemed just fine. I asked her about it, and she explained that as a child she wasn't allowed to eat dinner unless she sat seiza-style.

Shigematsu arrived late. She's one of my favorite teachers, though she's not an English teacher, which means I've never taught a class with her. This year she's the homeroom teacher for the multicultural class, and they're already proving troublesome. She stays at school until about 8 every night, either doing paperwork or talking on the phone with parents. Despite this, tonight she was moving and talking with the same elegance and grace she always has.

I declined the second party, especially once I found out the guys were heading toward a ramen shop. I started walking with the ladies, assuming they were heading home. Kimino, Maeda, Yoshihara, and Hamasuna instead made a beeline for Kazeneya for some ice cream. I went along, and had fun trying to keep up with their gossipy Japanese. I ended up getting home by around 11.