Dining Zen

My first real cultural experience in Japan came in the middle of the first week. It was just after Zabeth and I took our picture that says “Zabeth and I going out for dinner.” We cleaned up and left the apartment, walking through town looking for a new restaurant Zabeth had seen and wanted to try. When we found it, it was shut down for the night. Zabeth had one other place in mind though, and the sign was written in local language, but at the bottom contained an English caption: “Dining Zen.” We walked in. A few people were at the bar, and a small group was sitting on the floor eating at tables. You didn’t have to remove your shoes to go to the bar, so we chose that option. Zabeth greeted everybody, and I remained silent. She ordered us two beers, and the bartender brought them, along with menu’s. Unlike the restaurants in Tokyo, the menu’s contained no English translation of the dishes offered. Realizing we were truly in for it, Zabeth and I pointed to the two diners on either side of us, and both indicated that we would like what they were having. We received Tofu, and some sashimi to go with our beers. All in all a delicious meal and we were both just happy to have survived and dined at a place where we didn’t really no what was going on. We got up to pay hurriedly, so as not to get into any awkward situations due to our lack of understanding at the restaurant. When we got to the register, the previous diner’s tab was 4800 yen. As we waited for ours to be tallied, the bartender and now cashier looked at us from behind his register. We were both ready for any price, but instead he said to us “No Money.” We looked around, and soon realized that he and the other bar patrons were signaling to us, don’t worry your dinner is on us. Zabeth insisted that he take 1,000 yen (about 10 dollars). The true cost of this hospitality was that the three other people at the bar and bartender all asked us to return to our seats and stay awhile. To sweeten the deal the bartender poured everyone a round of Sake, which Im sure no one was displeased with. We started drinking, and cell phones came out complete with apps for English to Japanese translation. I pulled out one of my dads cigars and lit it up, offering some to everyone in exchange for the drink. Each person to a puff, and then coughed, and we all took turns being laughed at. I got to know Hiroki, a father of four and air conditioning repair man. Zabeth had a conversation into an iPhone, which was then repeated in Japanese to a girl the same age as her, who was a waitress at a snack bar. She used the translator to make fun of her boyfriend for his receding hairline, but by the time we got that far in the conversation and Sake drinking every joke was taken pretty lightly. We had a great time, and stayed well past closing. After noticing the bartenders face as he finally put away his bottle, we all got up, exchanged numbers, took pictures and headed home for the night.