Wakarimasen!

So I've been talking about starting a travel blog for this upcoming (and now nearly two months in) trip, and recently a certain someone has been bugging me about it to no end. So today after yet another job interview, I've decided to begin, rather than staring at my computer watching Shameless episodes download and eating unrecognizable and definitely mispronounced Japanese food.

I've been here in Tokyo nearly two weeks now 'looking for a job' and have since settled in quite nicely, although the first few days were definitely not so easy. I have never experienced culture shock like I did upon arrival in Tokyo, and I have never thought when walking through the streets of any city 'What the hell am I doing here??!!' It most likely had something to do with discovering on the first full day here that the Japanese Association for Working Holiday Makers went bankrupt back in AUGUST. Thanks SWAP, for informing me that the one saving grace I was counting on upon arrival would not be assisting me in learning Japanese, opening a bank account, getting a phone, finding a job, applying for an Alien Registration card, finding a place to live, and basically just functioning. Why did I pay them $500 again???

But that's beside the point. The next day I checked out of my stiflingly hot, $50 a night, 6 bed dorm to something a bit cheaper, and much colder. I had e-mailed this hostel back in December while in Scotland and out of the maybe 5 I managed to e-mail in between pints, this is the only one that replied. So I asked the girl at reception if the manager was around and mentioned that I had been told I could do some cleaning in exchange for a bed. She said she remembered and would call her boss to see if there was any work at the restaurant. Wtf?? So I of course just smiled and said 'OK'. 20 minutes later a little Chinese man walks in reception smiling. And speaking Chinese. We sit down at a table and he conducts his 'interview' with Shi (reception girl) as the interpreter. After determining I speak no Japanese, was wanting to clean at the hostel, and am here looking for a job teaching English, she (and Shi) says 'Do you have any plans tonight?'

'Well no,' I say, 'Its only Saturday night in downtown Tokyo town.'

So I end up going on a silent 20 minute subway ride with my new boss (who's name I don't know) to one of his many Chinese restaurants (which I also don't know the name of). I walk in with him and surprise surprise! Nobody speaks English. This just keeps getting better and better. But hey, a true backpacker will do just about anything for a free place to stay, a Tokyo metro pass, a free meal a day, and a few yen in her pocket.

From what I had gathered back at the hostel there was a tour group of about 70 Chinese men coming through for a meal, so they could use my help serving. This would be easy enough. Just walk out with the plates and set them down on the turny thing in the middle of the table and walk away. I've never been a waitress because I know I'm a clutz and prone to spilling things, but I'm sure I can do this.

I'm supposed to be there four hours and the first hour consists of me basically standing around in my own world, smiling and laughing when it seems appropriate, and wondering where the EHO's are with these cooks and their cigarettes hanging out of their mouths. Maybe I'll say I don't want the free food after all because I'm vegetarian.

And then suddenly there's a storm of Chinese men, swarming around, through the kitchen, filling the restaurant with even more smoke and mindless (to me) chatter. And then there's bowls and plates being thrust into my hands and motioning me to take them out. 'Well this isn't so bad now is it? I can do this!' I think to myself, 'It's a bit lonely but on Monday the boy from Mexico will be in and he speaks English!'

Wait a second, where's the ball from my lip stud?? Oh shit...I glance around the room to see if anyone has found it in their plate of Kung Pao chicken, or whatever it is I'm serving. But I'm interrupted by more rapid hand gestures, I suppose indicating to me to get a move on.

I rush back to the kitchen and grab two huge, full, heavy bowls of some sort of soup. Maybe I'm pro enough now to handles three, with one resting on my arm? No, it's probably a bit early for that. I hurry back to the tables and reach over a little Chinese man to set one of the bowls on his table. What's that sound? It sounds like screaming, but why? Where is it coming from? It sounds so close...oh wait, it's coming from right beside me. Below me in fact. The little Chinese man. I look down and see it is him screaming. Because I am spilling the other giant bowl of soup on him as I'm setting the other one down. The two tour leaders are already there wiping it off him and chattering away. Do they ever stop their mindless chatter??? But this time it's aimed at me. I try and remember how to say sorry in Japanese but it doesn't really matter considering they're Chinese.

I literally run back into the kitchen, hoping they'll send me home or at least let me do dishes, but no, they thrust more plates and bowls at me. I walk back out into the restaurant, and can feel all 140 eyes burning holes into me as they glare at the giant who tried to drown the little old man.

Finally they all get up and leave and we can start cleaning up and once its all done (an hour early...is that just lucky or do they just want me gone?)I get to go on another awkward 20 minute metro journey back to the hostel.

"Boss says you did very good. You can have tomorrow off and meet him in reception at 9:30am Monday morning and he will get you a metro pass and take you to the restaurant with Jorge."

OK, well maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought. Maybe all new servers lose facial jewelry and give third degree burns to a grandpa on their first day.

Or maybe not.

Monday morning rolls around and I'm told I can just clean at the hostel until I learn a bit more Japanese.

Welcome to Tokyo.

Wakarimasen, I just don't understand.