Glimpse - Your Stories from Abroad

You know the stereotypical image of the Japanese businessman getting tipsy on a karaoke stage? Well, if you work in Japan and you're invited to the office party, you might just get to see it for yourself.

Having worked for two years in a Prefectural Board of Education office in Kumamoto, Japan, I've been invited to plenty of enkais (group drinking parties). There are welcome enkais, goodbye enkais, New Year’s enkais, and massive end-of-the-year bounenkais (“year-forgetting" parties).

Even if like me, you are not really a drinker, these parties provide you with excellent food and give you the chance to witness superb late-night amatuer singing. But you've got some rules to follow before you make it that far, young salaryman.

Before the party, ask about clothing.

Here's an actual conversation I had with a coworker before an enkai:

“What should I wear tonight?”

“Oh, don't worry, it's a very casual party.”

“OK, would jeans be alright?”

“Jeans? Well, I'd probably wear slacks.”

“But not a tie?”

“You should wear a tie.”

“Oh.”

I later learned that with this particular situation, casual meant “no suit jackets.”

And yet on the flip side, I once went to a wedding after-party, which would likely be a touch formal in the United States, and a group of P.E. teachers showed up in tracksuits. Ask about specifics, and you'll be safe.

And then ask about price.

Sometimes enkais are in smoky izakayas (a kind of japanese pub); sometimes they're in huge hotels, where you're waited on by bowtied men who swap out your silverware with surprising zest. Depending on the location, the price for these parties can run from around $30 to as much as $70. Which is a lot. But even if you're tight on cash, try to go to the first few parties of the season so you can make sure that you get a nice introduction to all your coworkers.

Get there early. Earlier than you're thinking.

This extends to pretty much all invitations in Japan. A 7 p.m. dinner invitation in Japan often means you will be physically putting food in your mouth at 7 p.m., not that you should just show up around then.

After being late or near-late to a few enkais, I got into the habit of finding the party location early, and then reading in a nearby café until about 15 minutes before things got started.

Also, if anyone offers you a ride to the party, accept it. Especially if you're a newcomer. Addresses in Japan don't line up the way Westerners expect them to, and often a street's name won't be known to anyone but city planners. Catch a ride and you don't have to worry about missing out because you're hopelessly winding through streets on the wrong side of town.

Whether you're drinking or not, the party starts with a toast and beer.

The party always starts with beer. No matter how beautiful the fish or fierce you're thirst, nothing should pass your lips until someone has given a speech (or several) followed by a group kanpai (cheers). Eat or drink before the kanpai and all heads will turn in your direction.

After beer, people can often choose from a selection of drinks, and it's often open bar for a set period of time. And, because my editor asked: Nope, I've never actually seen “sake bombs” in Japan.

Get ready for some speeches and prepare your own.

At most enkais, people start and finish with speeches. And there may be some speeches in the middle. So, be ready to introduce yourself or offer a few words of thanks if a superior calls on you for a speech.

I was once at a party after performing with a Japanese salsa dance group (don't ask), and they handed me the mic in front of a room full of people. “I'm sorry, what should I say?” I asked.

“Oh, just tell us your name, and one thing you like.”

I assumed it was some kind of ice-breaker. “I'm Saleem, and I like pizza,” I said.

An awkward silence hung in the room.

I passed the mic to the next person, and, after stating their name, they made an enthusiastic speech about why they loved salsa dancing. As did everyone who spoke. Clearly, I had missed the point.

Which is to say, expect speeches, but don't be stressed by them. I have made a stupider speech than you will ever make, and I lived to tell the tale.

Never pour your own drink, never overlook an empty glass, and remember the order of the pour.

It's rude to pour your own beverage. If you want more to drink, the best thing to do is to pour for someone else. They'll reciprocate. Keep this in mind whenever someone pours for you first, and make sure to pour for higher ups before they have a chance to offer you a pour.

If you don't drink, people will joke and pressure you to drink, but it's quite acceptable to politely decline. If you're not in the mood for jokes, you can likely fool people with oolong tea, which looks pretty similar to beer.

Be careful where you point those chopsticks.

Soon after the speeches, you'll get to chow down, and while there's a lot of etiquette around eating in Japan, there are two rules that I hear repeated again and again: 1) Never pass food from one person's chopsticks to another person's chopsticks and 2) Never, ever, stick your chopsticks straight up-and-down (stake-in-the-ground style) into the rice when they are not in use.

Both of these practices are associated with funerals and considered very bad luck. An architect friend of mine made the stabbing-the-rice faux pas. A week later he lost his job. True story. Just saying.

Don't stay in your assigned seat.

You'll often have assigned seats at an office party, but you're not expected to stay there the whole time. Keep moving around, and make an effort to say at least a few words to everyone. Bonus: Any time conversation slows, you can always mention that there's a group you haven't greeted yet.

After the party it's the after-party. Go to that. The after-after-party is optional.

After the first party (usually starting around 7 p.m. and ending strictly at 9 p.m.) there is almost always an after-party. The after-party tends to be much less formal, and it's where I've had most of my first close conversations with co-workers. If you get invited to an after-party, it's usually a good idea to go. (But check your wallet first. The boss might be feeling generous, but he might not.)

After the after-party, there's often a third party, and that's usually when the karaoke starts. If this party isn't in a regular karaoke bar, take a close look around the room. Karaoke machines seem to materialize in the most surprising places.

All of this is, of course, assuming that you can find the after-party...

Be careful when the party transitions.

Between the main party and the after-party, anyone who doesn't want to continue the night often just quietly slips away. This might be considered rude in some countries, but in Japan it provides an easy out for anyone who has another engagement, is a little short on cash, or just feels like heading home.

The flip side of this is no one will look for you if you disappear. Once I walked into the bathroom in-between parties, and saw a truly bizarre hand-painted portrait of Angelina Jolie hanging from the men's room wall. Naturally, I took a minute to snap a picture, and when I stepped outside, the party had moved on without me.

If you make it to the karaoke stage, sing a song that people know.

Pain isn't exactly sing-along material in Japan. Think The Beatles, John Denver, some Bon Jovi if you're feeling energetic. For some reason, Westerners are often asked to sing “Country Road Take Me Home.” (Google it. I didn't recognize the song when I first heard it in Japan, but I'm pretty sure I know all the words now.)

Last night never happened.

So, during the party, you saw a man lodge chopsticks into his mouth in a painful but perfect imitation of a walrus? (Yup, seen it.) That's the kind of thing you can joke about with your coworkers the next morning, right? Wrong. Almost nothing that happens at the enkai is talked about the next day.

People usually just acknowledge the party with something like, “Kinou wa otsukare sama desu,” which means, approximately, “Good work yesterday.” This is often said slowly, in a gravely voice, with half-open eyelids and a hand held against one's forehead. Yes, the 3 a.m. karaoke lifestyle has next-day repurcussions that transcend culture, young foreigner. So put on that suit and grab a can of coffee from the nearest vending machine, because it's going to be a long day.