I Lower Myself to the Floor to Be Judged －私は裁きを受けるため、ひれ伏します－

I was at a party last night.  I have something I would like to say to the other people at the party, which I have written below. 

Apology Letter After Drunken Improper Behaviour 

Yesterday I drank to excess.  I was drunk to an extreme that passed all limits.  My coarse and careless language was spoken from a state of unconsciousness.  Morning arrived and I heard several people speak of it.  I realized then what had happened.  There was no earth into which my body could sink.  My shame and horror were great.  The root cause was my small capacity to hold alcohol.  I thank you for your kindness in not condemning me for my behaviour.  When we next meet, I will apologise face to face.  But first I make this written apology.  I lower myself to the floor to be judged. 

Respectfully yours,

(insert name here) 

*

Okay, I didn’t really go to a party last night.  And I didn’t write this letter.  I read it recently and found it interesting.  The letter was discovered in a cave in China, and it was dated to the 9^th century Tang dynasty.  It was not an individual letter, but a form letter.  Government employees who drank too much could copy the letter any time they drank too much.  The text is based on a translation into English available online.  But I changed some of the language a little to try to keep it simple for non-native speakers. 

I hope you have more capacity than a poor 9^th century civil servant.

 

Put the Coffee Cup Down, Sir, and Put Your Hands in the Air －コーヒーカップを下して、手を挙げろー

I have a Japanese student who was in a band which toured Europe.  His band’s European tour manager was an Italian woman.  She recently visited Japan, and my student met her and showed her some of the sights of Tokyo. 

“How did it go with her?” I asked. 

“Good,” he said, “But she told me off.” 

“Why did she tell you off?” I asked. 

“Well,” he said, “She was annoyed that I was drinking my cappuccino incorrectly.” 

I had images of my student sucking his cappuccino through a straw, or slurping it into his mouth with chopsticks. 

“What was wrong with how you were drinking it?” I said. 

“Oh,” he said, “I was drinking it at 3pm.  She said that real Italians never drink cappuccino after 11am.  She takes Italian food and drink culture very seriously.” 

The reason that Italians only drink cappuccino in the morning is that they believe that milky coffee is bad for digestion in the afternoon.  There may be some logic to this.  But there is not enough logic to make it a strict rule, if you ask me.  Perhaps my student doesn’t have the luxury of a coffee machine that can make cappuccino in his house.  So if he wants to enjoy the drink, he has to order it whenever he finds himself in a fancy café, whatever the time. 

I can understand the reason for having a strict way of doing things in certain situations.  If you work in a nuclear power plant, say, it might be a good idea to scold people who don’t strictly follow the manual.  But coffee, really?  Isn’t how you drink it a matter of personal taste? 

The story reminded me of something my wife once told me.  When she was growing up, her mother would prepare several dishes for dinner – perhaps rice, miso soup and meat.  My wife’s mother scolded her children if they didn’t eat the several dishes little by little, switching from plate to plate.  It was not allowed to finish all of the miso soup first, for example, even if you were worried that it might go cold. 

Maybe I would have a different perspective if cappuccino were a Scottish or British drink.  Then I would feel proud of the traditional culture around drinking it.  Then I would look down on those fools who didn’t know the correct way to drink it.  I am sure that in a previous blog, for example, I laughed derisively at an American researcher who declared that the best way to enjoy a cup of tea was to add salt to it. 

I am glad I am not Italian or Japanese.  I can enjoy drinking cappuccino at 3pm without feeling guilty, and I can eat several Japanese dishes in whatever order takes my fancy.

 

In One Ear and Out the Other －片方の耳から入り、もう片方から出るー

 Yesterday my son left for school at 8 o’clock as usual. 

“Bye-bye, Daddy,” he said. 

“Bye-bye,” I said.  “Cross the road carefully.” 

I locked the door behind him. 

Twenty minutes later I started teaching an English lesson over the telephone.  As my student was talking, I could hear somebody climbing the stairs to our house.  I thought that it must be a postal delivery.  Then I heard the handle of our front door turn.  Whoever was there was trying to enter my home. 

I was only half listening to my student now, in case I had to stand up and fight off this intruder. 

In the end, I realized that it was my son coming home.  My wife let him in and I returned to my lesson.  “Has he forgotten his schoolbag or something?” I wondered. 

After the lesson was finished I found out what was going on.  Tokyo’s public schools were all closed yesterday, although it was not a public holiday generally.  My son went to his school and couldn’t understand why there was nobody else there.  Eventually he found one other student who had made the same mistake and they decided to go home. 

How did my son manage to miss the information that his school was not going to be open?  I am sure his teacher must have mentioned it.  I can just imagine my son in his class now, paying no attention at all to what his teacher was saying.  I picture him playing some game such as flicking his eraser around his desk instead of listening. 

“What did you do at school today, son?” 

“Hmmn?  Do?”