Thinking before you speak always helps
Already : Hatachi Archives
Thinking before you speak always helps Saturday October 7
Last night, my friend Takashi invited me to a goukon, an interesting Japanese invention where a male friend and a female friend assemble equal numbers of people, and then you get everyone together. It is, in short, a mixer.
Despite having a girlfriend, Takashi requested that I participate to give the evening an "international" flair; one of the girls there was Taiwanese (i.e., non-native Japanese), and I guess that was part of the the gig. It's just a fun way to meet people, and despite the even numbers of men and women, there's no particular reason that one cannot participate despite being involved. Plus, I cleared it ahead of time, so.
The venue was the famed, yet underground, bar in Naka-meguro Emily at IUC used to talk about. This self-proclaimed "ping-pong lounge" is really an apartment, but it appears as if they gutted the walls between rooms, added lighting, and turned it into a gigantic living room (with a ping pong table in the center). To top it all off, since the front looks like an apartment, you have to ring a chime to get in, and they more-or-less "verify" your identity. I am still not sure whether this place is licensed or not, so maybe I shouldn't even be writing about it.
Nonetheless, we had some great food, and I learned some new words.
And then I had a little too much red wine. Now, I'm not saying I got really drunk. That's not it at all. But when I drink red wine, I start to talk. More than I already do. The Taiwanese girl made the mistake of asking me about my thoughts on something, or rather, maybe she didn't, but I wanted to say something, and I found myself making a five minute monologue on why I think the existence of "nation states" in the modern world works against peace.
I don't think the idea is ridiculous at all; I would love to discuss the point, actually, with anyone who wants to take me up on it. The issue was that I was speaking in Japanese, and I was speaking at an event where everyone was having fun, talking about light subjects, and being quite relaxed. I was out of my element.
Sure, I wasn't worked up in a bad way; it's not like I was angry at anything. But after five minutes, I realized there was no good way to resolve my monologue. I, myself, didn't know exactly what I wanted to say. I was just talking. The two other people at the time were kind enough to listen, but it then bothered me for the rest of the night that I had spoken so outwardly without having a resolved point.
Thinking before you speak always helps, especially in a foreign language.
