The Welcome Party

subtitle: my new nickname

I've mentioned before we've been having a lot of high turn over here, and it's still going on. Just last week we got yet another new teacher. (Actually an old teacher who has come back to the area again.) And this past Friday we got a new Japanese staff.

In addition to us foreigners who teach the lessons, there is a small group of Japanese staff who answer the phones, book the lessons, talk to the customers, and are in charge of sales. They are almost always woman and they are almost always in their early 20s. (Apparently it's not a great place to make a career out of.)

Up until now we've only had 3 Japanese staff. The last time we got an additional Japanese staff member, a week later someone else got transferred to another branch. I'm a bit worried because I'm rather fond of all 3 girls we have now and don't want to see anyone get transferred away. I asked if this would happen, and was assured it won't, but in a Japanese company no one has any control over their future. People are always being transferred from on city to the other at the whims of the head office.

In fact of the 4 Japanese staff we have now, none of them are native to Nakatsu. This is simply were they were assigned to go, without any choice in the matter.

I always feel sorry for the Japanese staff in this situation. Sure, us foreigners also arrive in Nakatsu without knowing a soul, but we immediately bond with the other foreigners in the area. Everyone knows everyone else is in the same boat, so we become friends very quickly. Plus it is very easy to make friends with Japanese people who want to practice their English or hang out with foreigners. Plus we look at the whole living abroad thing as a kind of adventure.

But for the average Japanese person transferred into Nakatsu, it is a small boring town with nothing in it, and it's hard for them to make friends. I've heard several stories of misery from transplanted Japanese not only in Nakatsu but also in Ajimu and Gifu.

And so I try and invite the Japanese staff out with us as much as possible. Whenever us foreigners are gathering together, I try and make sure I extend an invitation. But it doesn't always work out because
1): most of our plans tend to come together at the last minute
2): the Japanese staff often has to work late and get up early, making it hard for them to have an active social life, and
3): often when we do get together, the conversation reverts into rapid English, and the poor Japanese staff are left just drinking their tea and staring blankly, and
4): sometimes I get the impression they don't really want to come, and so I'm always cautious of pushing an invitation too hard.

Last Saturday, Amy and I were in the staffroom when I met the new Japanese staff for the first time. After exchanging the usual pleasantries, I learned she was another transplant who didn't know a soul in this area. "Well, we'll have to have a welcome party for you," I said. "How about tonight after work."

"I can't tonight."

"Tomorrow night then?"

"Tomorrow's my day off."

"Great, it will be perfect. We all finish early on Sunday evenings anyway."

My initial idea was to go to that old standby of foreigners in Nakatsu, my favorite Mexican bar in Japan: Tropicoco. But a few of the new gang aren't really huge fans of the place. (I think the major complaint is that it is dark and dingy, which is more or less true, especially since they moved from Usa into a new building in Nakatsu. I never really minded this because I figured it made up for this with it's open atmosphere and the ease with which you can wander around and socialize with anyone, just like in an American bar back home. (Most Japanese bars you tend to go sit at a table and close yourself off with the people you came with)).

But the more I thought about it, a party at someone's apartment would be much better anyway. It would allow everyone to get to know the new people without the loud background noise of the bar, and the confusion of other people coming and going. Now all I had to do was find someone willing to host it.

My apartment was out of the question. Not only would Shoko kill me if I invited everyone over from work on short notice, but I live one stop down on the train. It's only a five minute train ride, but it does mean everyone has to go to the station, buy a ticket, check the time tables, etc. Not a huge deal, but probably enough trouble to deter some people from coming.

Which meant I had to get someone else to volunteer. I don't normally consider myself a pushy person, but I'm learning quickly that with a big group if you get everyone in on the decision making process, there are ten different opinions and everything dies in committee. The best way to do something is to present a plan already formulated, and if people don't want to do it then you can do something different with them another night.

Once the other teachers showed up, I announced my plans."We're having a welcome party for the new Japanese staff," I said between lessons. "We can either host it at Tropicoco's, or someone can volunteer their apartment." I received mostly non-committal mumblings. "Stuart, can you host it at your place? It's going to be at Tropicoco's otherwise. Tomorrow night okay? So is that a yes or a no? Can I start telling people it's at your place?" (I apologized to Stuart later for ambushing him on this).

When I recounted the whole thing to Shoko, she was less than pleased. "You have to be careful when inviting Japanese people," she said. "We don't like saying no directly, so if you press too hard we feel forced into things we don't want to do. When the new girl said she was busy Saturday night, she was probably just saying that because she didn't want to go. But when you asked for the next day, she felt like you were pressing her into it. I would hate to do something work related on my day off."

"But it's only a party," I said.

"You always get lonely so easily, so you always want to go out at night, and you think everyone else functions the same way" Shoko said. "But not everyone is like that. Many people are perfectly happy spending a quiet evening at home."
And when I mentioned that the new girl had been put in housing outside of Nakatsu, and would have to take a 20 minute train ride just to get to her own welcome party on her day off, Shoko really thought I blew it.

As she tends to do when she's pointing out my flaws, Shoko repeatedly harped on this point until I became angrily defensive. "I was trying to do something nice," I said. "It's not my fault if she doesn't know how to deal with invitations from foreigners. If you work in a job dealing with foreigners, you have to consider it an occupational hazard."

Even now I'm still not sure if the new staff girl appreciated or resented her welcome party. But everyone appeared to be all smiles when they arrived at Stuart's apartment.
Stuart had agreed to host on the condition that he not be responsible for feeding everyone, so we all brought something to share. I was afraid that there wouldn't be enough food to go around, but everyone brought generously, and there was plenty of food. (Of which I must confess I ate more than my fair share).

The party soon split into several smaller conversations. At one point I heard my name being mentioned across the room, and realized the Japanese staff were talking about me and Shoko.

"When Joel invited everyone over to his apartment, we were kind of anxious. We had never been to a foreigner's apartment before and didn't know what to expect. We poked our head in tentatively through the door, but then his girlfriend greeted us in Japanese and it was just like coming into a Japanese apartment. And she had tons of food already prepared so we didn't need to bring anything. It was really delicious." The more senior staff members were telling this story to the new girl.

At that point they must have realized I was listening in. (Or I had probably started staring in their direction. I never did get the knack of subtle eve's dropping). "We're talking about Shoko," one of them explained to me.

"Shoko who can't speak Japanese?" I asked.

"No, that never even came up," she responded.

(Shoko had sent me a cell phone text message earlier in the day saying she wouldn't be able to make it to the party. She had made a mistake with her Japanese spelling, and I had gleefully showed it around to everyone and tried to milk it for laughs as much as I could. "Shoko's Japanese, and yet she makes mistakes writing. How am I as a foreigner ever supposed to learn Japanese when Japanese people can't even do it right. No wonder my Japanese is so bad, Shoko's always giving me a bad model.")

"What is he talking about?" asked the new girl.

"Oh, Shoko sent him a Japanese text message today and forgot to type one letter and he's been making a huge deal about it," another staff responded. "He's being way too strict with her."

"If I made a mistake typing Japanese," I said, "Shoko would say something to me."

"That's because she's trying to help you study. Everyone is just trying to help you learn Japanese by correcting you. I correct you too sometimes."

Truth be told, I do actually appreciate all the corrections. Many Japanese people will not correct grammar out of fear of offending, so I had a good thing going here with so many Japanese people willing to correct my grammar all the time. I decided I better reign this joke in less I ruin everything. "Yes, yes, actually I do need the help. It is good of you and Shoko to correct me all the time," I answered.

At this point some words were exchanged in rapid Japanese between the staff which I didn't catch, but could tell it was in reference to me. Then one of the staff indicated the new girl and explained. "She says you remind her of her father."

I wasn't sure what this meant. Was it because I was criticizing everyone else's grammar (an old man habit if ever there was one). Or could it be the way I was sitting with my legs crossed on the chair and holding a tea cup in an old man type pose?

"What do you mean I remind her of her father."

Again, a quick consultation in Japanese, and then, "the way you look, and your attitude, and the kindness in your face."

It was supposed to be a compliment, and yet I felt I was a little young to be told I looked like people's father. This new staff girl was only 6 years my junior. Granted when I was 23 I would have thought someone my age was ancient as well, but do I really appear as a father figure to the early 20s generation already?

Plus my social awkwardness made me unsure how to react to this. What is the appropriate reaction when a 23 year old girl tells you that you remind her of her father. "Why, yes I'm sure I do. Thank you very much."

But the story did remind me of another time early this year when an 23 year old Australian had made a similar remark to me, so I changed the subject to that. "You know, Ben said he thought I acted like an old man as well," I said. "It was right after one of the kids classes finished, and the kids were running around screaming, and then we heard the shattering sound of broken glass in the bathroom. [Turned out they had broken the bathroom light]. And we were all in the staff room looking at each other and I just sighed and said, 'goddamn kids'. Ben laughed and said I had already turned into an old man."

The subject came up a couple more times later in the night. The new staff girl even proposed that my new nickname should be "daddy" at the Nova office. I wasn't sure if that was patronizing or if it sounded a little bit kinky, so I just mumbled something in response and let the subject go.

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