Randomness and Supreme Hospitality

I was aimlessly riding my bike on just another lazy Sunday afternoon hoping for something random to happen. I was near the local train station when I suddenly heard a voice in Japanese say, "Alex-sensei!!" It was Señor Imachi, a part-time teacher at my school who can also speak a little Spanish, hence the name. Without delay he told me to follow him to his house. I found it a bit presumptuous but what could I say? I left my apartment hoping for something random and I had it.

At the Señor's house, when we entered the living room his wife, who before our arrival was happily enjoying herself watching TV, immediately stood up to greet me and began uttering phrases in Japanese that are similar in English to "Oh dear Lord I'm not ready to accept you into this dirty, unworthy house," or "Please forgive me for not having properly prepared for your visit." We sat on the couch and his wife disappeared into the kitchen to make us coffee and snacks. After chatting for a few minutes in a combination of broken Japanese, English and Spanish, the Señor asked me if I would honor him by drinking in his house.

I checked the time. 3:10 P.M. "...only in Japan..." I said to myself as I accepted the offer. We moved to a bare kitchen table and once again his wife initiated the conversation by apologizing for not having enough food in the house (there was plenty of food in the house) and started asking me what kind of foods I liked. Before I realized it, the Señor's wife had assembled a smorgasbord of aperitifs, and there was not an inch of table space after she was finished.


We indulged ourselves on brandy, cognac, shochu, sake, beer. We feasted on cheeses, fresh meats, fruits, veggies, but still a Japanese housewife's job is never finished.

After finding out that my favorite Japanese food was yakiniki , the Señor's wife drove to the local supermarket to get meat and chocolates, after which she gave me the chocolates, and cooked up a nice hot meal for her husband and myself. At about 8 P.M. I decided to depart before inducing myself into a food coma, but before I left I made two very important realizations. "Come to think of it, I actually like Japanese Ramen more than yakiniku," I thought to myself on the way home. My second realization is that I should make more unsolicited house calls to Japanese coworkers who are married.

(Some people marry Japanese women to get citizenship in order to enojy this every day)