Dive Shop Bounenkai

it begs mentioning that I am still at least moderately intoxicated, but I shall try not to make a fool of myself while recounting the events of the evening.

Tonight was the first night of what I am dubbing the mid-year exam for my liver. We've trained hard for this day, and survived with flying colors. I do not believe my cup ever dipped below half-full all night long, because a table full of toothless but ever vigilant fisherfolk would spring up to refill my glass the minute it was lowered from my lips. Still, I pace myself moderately, bringing all the drunkenness avoidance tips I had at my disposal to ensure that tomorrow I would still be among the living.

The dive shop I frequent is on the opposite side of the island. On such a small chunk of land, you would not believe how drastically different each of the tiny villages of no more than two-hundred people can be. They're all fiercely independent, competitive, and proud. Soumachi is the 2nd biggest town on the island, home to its own middle school and something that constitutes an infrastructure: food store, restaurant, etc. There is a motley collection of fishermen, construction workers, dive rats and middle schoolers pretty much perpetually gracing the halls of the Yonemuri household/dive shop/restaurant. I do not know how they know, but when ever there is any kind of food being prepared, they descend like clockwork flies.

Tonight was no normal night though. The meal began with what I can only describe as shark jerky. Not as chewy as the dessicated beef stuff designed to survive nuclear holocaust, but certainly with a certain dried, salted quality to it. It was delicious. The meal proceeded through to steaming nabe, a pot of broth into which various sea critters are thrown, along with vegetables. No less than 300 dollars worth of Kikai giant prawns found its way into those pots. Along side were plates of fresh caught squid, faint purple skin-tones drawing praise from a very discerning audience, and garlic marinated yakogai, Kikai conch which may or may not be endangered, depending on if I ever ask anyone.

After the nabe had been bubbling along happily for a while, and I had dodged my social obligation to drink to unconsciousness by playing with the Yonemuri's kindergartner Nao (who will one day be just an absolute nightmare of a grade schooler, but I love him anyway. He says hello by kanchoing you, and refers to me as "grandpa".), a chef who had been brought in specially for the event began churning out plate after plate of sushi, using fish which the locals had caught probably earlier that morning. Yakogai, raw sweet shrimp, and the mother of all sushi toro, a fatty tuna which can command tens of thousands of yen in high end sushi shops. After the first round began to dwindle, slices of raw horse, basashi, and its rice-bound brother basashi-zushi found their way onto the table. I am not the type who would go out of my way to order raw horse, they're one of those animals which humans have just gotten a little too close to for us to overpower the empathy of consuming Mr. Ed or trusty Silver, but I do rather enjoy high-quality raw meat when it's put before me.

A nearly endless stream of rice-riding fish and horse flew forth from the skilled hands of the sushi-chef, but the valiant fisherfolk steadied their wills, poured themselves another glass of 20-year old shochu which had been tapped specially for the occasion, and made short work of the would be challengers. Nao ran around with a large length of green rubber tubing, and demanded people hold it up to their ears while he spoke, and then blew, collapsing into fits of laughter. Eventually this was met with reprisal, when one of the fisherfolk tied Nao to the banister with his green plastic tubing, and left him to find his own way out.

I chatted with Taka-sensei, and his strangely young wife Chi-chan, an activity which has become a lot easier now that I understand a) Taka is totally cool with me speaking English at a normal pace, with a few simplifications and b) Chi-chan, whom I was originally quite intimidated by, is actually rather intimidated by me, a relationship I tend to do much better with for some reason. I can make people feel at ease, as long as they're not myself, I suppose. Taka has offered to loan me another one of his wetsuits, double thick and slightly larger, so that I can continue diving through the winter. I might go this weekend. That would be fantastic.

The meal finished with a chocolate Christmas cake iced with chocolate mousse, and just because it's Japan, and just because tomorrow is Christmas, for once I just raised a fork and dug in, instead of denouncing it a false prophet, herald to a heathen Christmas. It was quite good.

I left early. Yoda-san doesn't drink and from that point on all that was left was the endless, sloshing, march towards oblivion. I was glad to escape before the truly awkward drunken Japanese banter struck up in full. Though seconds before my departure one of the men said something along the lines of "you should get a girlfriend, because you're a man, and men need relief", cue the lewd hand gestures, which is actually a fairly common sentiment when Japanese men start drinking and I tell them I am single. I believe this particular man was either trying to set me up with a friend of the man sitting next to him, or perhaps even with the man himself, I was unclear on the point because the man had a fairly strong accent either because he was raised on the island or was missing literally every tooth in the visible spectrum.

Bounankai. They're worth a story or two.

Tomorrow: Yakuba (Kikai public office) Bounenkai.

Monday: Live concert with Yoda-san, his wife, and his older daughter.

New Years Eve: Live concert with Yoda-san, his wife, and both his daughters.

New Years and beyond: I haven't the foggiest. It will be marginally traditional, and brand new.

I can't wait.



P.S. Thanks Dad. It means a lot.