A (Not So) Brief Rundown

My third month with the hotel is ending soon.

In hindsight, the past three months have been easier to handle than I would've expected from a five star hotel. Coming straight from working the dinner rush in a short-order kitchen, I admit at first I was a little thrown by the lax, at times almost languorous rhythm of the prep kitchens (by comparison, at least).

Of course, I understand now that I was really just oblivious to half of what was going on around me. I was a newbie, to both the cooking world and the Japanese business world, and so I was shielded by my coworkers... and obliviously, I let myself be shielded.

I'm still a newbie in almost every sense. I am no longer, however, operating under the benefit of said shield.

What suddenly changed (as of the end of last month) is that my coworker quit. He, myself, and another I've labelled Akita Boy for ease of reference were the only trainees in the kitchen, thus making up the lowest rung of the vast stepladder of kitchen hierarchy. Whilst up till now I was just delegated the easiest tasks that required minimal need for initiative thought (except for during Obon season, which actually was really stressful), those two quietly and efficiently took care of the many other things that kept our kitchen running smoothly - getting to the Main Kitchen first thing in the morning to unlock doors, turn on gas and lights and ovens and air-conditioning, distribute faxes, wash endless cutting boards that'd been sitting in bleach overnight, etc; kept the fridges and storage rooms stocked, knew every purveyor by name, navigated the complicated food exchanges with the restaurants, other prep kitchens, and banquet halls; basically, the little things one tends to overlook until one is suddenly required to learn how to successfully accomplish each and every task ON TOP of one's daily chores.

In case you're wondering, that would be me. Trying to navigate around my embarrassing lack of experience.

You know how when I started in June, I bemoaned my increased work hours? I laugh now, a little bitterly, just thinking about it. I thought nine hour work days plentifully interspersed with coffee breaks were tough. How delightful. Now that I work anywhere from 10 to 12 hours a day, only sitting for 15 minutes to eat lunch so I can free more time to run that one extra errand all the way up to the 70th floor and back, my naiveté's been smacked firmly on the ass and told to get lost.

I actually do like the extra challenge, like being able to take charge of our little trainee kingdom when Akita Boy isn't around. Better to be working with a To-Do list scrolling through my head than standing around slowly peeling tomatoes with a thumb up my rear. I mean, not to say I don't still peel tomatoes. I just peel them more efficiently, is all.

My relationship with my coworkers has taken another sharp turn. The younger guys - in my kitchen, anyway - have lost the (admittedly normal) edge of sexual tension that used to keep them a little withheld around me, and are now getting all up in my personal space and conducting spontaneous food fights rather than cautiously flirting with me. Which is very nice. The older ones are beginning to draw on my knowledge as an *gasp* American, and spew questions on every other exhale. One is starting to teach me conversational French in return - he asks me what a word is in English, and I ask him for the equivalent in French - and he's turning out to be a surprisingly good teacher.

The secretary I mentioned in my earlier post is still getting my help in translating recipe cards, which is surprisingly challenging work. It's just another incentive to brush up on my Japanese.

Gosh, I have so much to say... I shouldn't have left it till the last minute to squeeze into one single post. I'll try to post more frequently and less... garrulously from now on. Pinky swear. Then you can know all about what makes me look forward to work every day despite the cons sometimes outweighing the pros, WITHOUT having to reach for the aspirin.