By Mark
Hello. My name is Mark. I am a computer network engineer for a major telecommunications company. I had had an interest in Japanese language and culture for most of my life, and had studied Japanese in college. In the spring of 1997, I decided to take a one week vacation to Japan. Upon informing my boss of my plans, his eyes lit up. 'Hey Mark...while you're there, do some work for us. We'll pay for everything and you can stay for a month.' Needless to say, I was thrilled :).
The departure day arrived, and it was already off to a bad start. I can't sleep on airplanes usually, so I had stayed up all night to try and tire myself out so I could sleep. Thirteen hours, and not even a nap later, I was in Tokyo. At 7 pm on a Thursday night, I arrived at the Hotel Okura in Toranomon. By this time I had been awake for nearly 40 hours. I got into my room, and there was an immediate phone call. One of the Japanese office members was coming to take me out on the town. Needless to say, it would not look good if I refused.
Six of us went to a very traditional salaryman hangout, and immediately started drinking. My coworkers seemed determined to see exactly what this crazy gaijin would do. They brought out strange food and put it in front of me saying 'Mark-san, please eat this.' Never one to shrink from a challenge, I approached this task in the same way as a tequila shot...eat it without making a face, spitting it out, or giving any indication it was bothering me. I would just pop the repulsive whateveritwas in my mouth, and munch contemplatively, making thoughtful comments on the taste and texture.
I really knocked them dead when they brought out a bowl of something that looked like flat squares of meat in some kind of teriyaki sauce. I popped a square in my mouth and immediately noticed the strange texture. One side was smooth, and the other side was, for lack of a better description, fuzzy. The meat was quite chewy. The taste was slightly rancid. 'That's cow intestine.' said my awed cohort. I shrugged, said 'It isn't bad', and ate another piece. I thought their eyebrows were going to jump off their foreheads. I was later informed by Noro-san, my partner for the next month, that most of the foods I ate that night are considered disgusting by most Japanese, and are only kept on the menu to satisfy the older people. Lucky me!
I went home that night, massively drunk, and looped from over 40 hours without sleep. I was sick as a dog the following day, but I made it to my customer meeting on time and looking good. I then passed out for the rest of the weekend. That's all for now, but I have more stories on the way.
