Maruchan: My Second Home

So, there are these great things in Japan called izakaya's. It's not really a bar and not so much a restraunt, but somewhere in between. A lot of people, although mostly older, find an izakaya close to their place and then make it their second home, much like the British still do with pub's. In fact, it so closely resembles a home-like atmosphere that the manager of the place, almost always a woman, is called mama-san and the head chef, commonly the mama's husband, the maasta (master). I've been called Oniisan on a number of ocassions by the mama and other customers there, which means brother.

I found my second home at Maruchan, which means circle, but I'm not sure if there's a pun to this or not. I come here mainly to speak Japanese with the mama and the other workers, but also the random people I encounter when I usually go in there. A few nights ago I was sitting with my good friend and savior, Makoto, eating, drinking, and winding down from our day. Behind us is a middle-aged rec-soccer team, being obnoxiously loud and drinking quite a bit. Me and Makoto, having taken a small break from our conversation, sit in the comfortable presence of each other when I start to hear them talking about the gaijin at the bar. "Here they come" I think.

And they do, in full force. One of the older men, 55 I would later find out, rotates his body toward me and yells, "Oi!" I turn and greet him, "Konbanwa." He stands and comes over, asking me where I'm from, what I'm doing, blah blah blah. Good practice, nonetheless. He goes on to tell me about their soccer team, where they play and what position each one of them plays. He points to a chubby man at their table. "And him. He's just fat." They all laugh at him, while he chuckles along. One by one, a total of four of them are now standing around me and Makoto, and they've successfully taken over the establishment. Mama-san stands and asks them to sit down, but they really want to talk to me. "You're like a rock star" she says and gives me her practiced, yet loving smile.

Two other guys at a table next to us beckon me. They start by asking Makoto where I'm from and what I do, because they think I can't speak Japanese. Once they find out that I do, they invite us to drinks at their table. I say that I've drunk too much tonight already, and that Makoto has a big test tomorrow. "Really? You drank too much? Alright then..." short pause.

"Hey! Two more pints over here!" Alright, I guess I'll have one more.

And then the other table comes over to the table I'm at and starts telling me about themselves, where I politley nod and laugh at their jokes. The older man, quite fit for his age, starts flexing and showing off his body. The other laugh hysterically at this. The man sitting next to me tells me about the time he was convicted of a crime and went to jail. I'm so drunk at this point that things start to blur, a wall of humans standing around me, beer everywhere, and then I decide it's time to go.

"It's time to go" I tell Makoto. He readily agrees.

Another time, and I'll try to keep this short, I met a man who had just returned from Malaysia on business. After talking for a short time he says, "Ahh, isn't today great? Talking to you... We're friends, right?" I reassure him that yes, although we have only spoke for 3 minutes, we are friends. "You want to go down the street and grab a beer at a place I like?" The waitress behind him, now an acquaintance of mine, makes a huge "X" with her arms and mouths, "DAME" which could be translated as, "don't fucking do it". I politley decline many many times, and the conversation shifts to world peace.

"You ever heard of 'Pay it forward'" he asks. "Yeah," I say, "you do something good for someone, and then they do something good for someone else."

"Exactly" he replies. "By speaking to each other tonight, I think we have done a good thing for each other. We should probably pass it on, don't you think?"

"Absolutley."

The highschool waitress comes over and gives the man another glass of sake. He looks at me with light behind his eyes, extends his hand, and with a thud, slaps her ass. "I'm just 'paying it forward'" he tells us both, head thrown back, laughing.