no more beer
Irreversible bodily damage in the name of grassroots internationalisation is slowly becoming the hallmark of being a member of the JET programme.
For the past week I have been absolutely bastard tired. Drinking nearly non-stop from Monday to Friday, Bonenkai’s and Christmas parties frequented my nights as much as hangovers did my days. I spent the last day of work as a shadow of my former self, having stayed up until 1am the night before, making enough fudge to feed the entire chugakko.
Saturday saw the arrival of the chugakko bonenkai, a magnum opus of beer and shochu, which started at 12 noon and went on until around 10pm.
The first part of this bonenkai was a riverboat ride on the Kuma-Gawa river, which runs through our gun. Rather idealistically, I presumed the riverboat ride was precisely that. Imagine my surprise as we board the rickety wooden antique and a beer cooler is plonked down infront of us. As the boat set off, my minds eye taunted me by recalling how all the teachers had gone to the toilet beforehand at the riverboat terminal, but I had not. Looking around the boat, it was clear that there were no toilet facilities on board. The boats meagre furniture included just a table and oars, neither suitable for weeing in.
3 cans of beer later, I entered a world of pain. I was bursting. Literally. I thought many things, such as “how does a 22yr old explain away a pee-in-pants accident” and “would my colleagues ever talk to me again if I pissed over the side of the boat”. I did in fact joke about the latter. Before it became too agonizing to speak, I asked jokingly “the toilet is back there, right?”, pointing to the back of the boat. No one laughed.
20 minutes on from this point and my riverboat tour of horror was still very much in motion. I found comfort in rocking backwards and forwards and muttering to myself in tongues. I was visibly sweating. I tried to not think of words like “water” and “relief”.
The ambient sounds of the river Did Not Help.
The moment the boat docked at the end of the tour, I sprang up and legged it to some nearby portaloos. Inside, despite the obvious unpleasantness of chemical toilets, I was able to enjoy around 1 minute and 20 seconds of sheer ecstasy. I could finally stand up straight. The sweating had stopped.
Onto the next part of the enkai, then.
The rest of the day was taken up with bowling, a bath with some of the other teachers (whatever you are imagining, let me assure you it was much, MUCH worse) and an extremely elaborate meal of everything that could be eaten raw and not make you die. After consuming a days worth of beer, I cannot imagine anything worse than someone turning to you and asking if you are going to eat the brains of your prawns.
All in all, a valuable and fun alcohol-fuelled experience. This entry will be the last one before I go to Singapore. Merry Christmas to all who read Yongfook.com, and have a Happy New Year.
