"Rule four: I don't want to catch anyone not drinking in their rooms after lights out."

Another week, another enkai, another headache.

The weekend started, as it normally does here, with a raging hang over. The cause this time was the school enkai - the one where everybody goes. And because it's everybody, and the Principal, it was held in the ballroom of the poshest hotel in Toyama. After we finished sweeping out the remaining straw and droppings (b-boomtsssshh thankyou thankyou) we were sat at down and served appetisers and drinks by silver service waiters. Luckily I was randomly selected to sit between the librarian and Takeguchi-sensei, both Englishers. It began with very formal speeches by the Vice Principals and Principal, but soon descended into screeching laughs, beer, crying, more beer, and a rousing rendition of the school song. Which I managed to hum.

After recordings of various students talking about their time at Kureha were played over the PA the third grade teachers got up in turn to give short speeches about their graduating classes, to Lifetime Channel-esque backing music. It was highly orchestrated, touching, and very Japanese.

Beer, it seems, serves a fourth purpose - as champagne. After the speeches - and between courses of unspeakable shellfish and molluscy looking dishes - all the ladies stood and began to mingle with bottles of beer to refill all the men's flute glasses. Soon the chaps joined in and before I knew it forty drunken Japanese teachers were staggering around with bottles and glasses spilling beer here and there forcing me to gulp an inch of beer every minute so that it could be refilled by the next teacher. Of course I got wasted. Again.

More food and drink followed but in a smaller, cosier, side room which "you must pay 1000 yen more to come in." And what a party - in the course of two hours I drank two bottles of hot sake and uncountable glasses of beer and became best friends with the carpenter and the janitor. At some point the hard-as-nails P.E. teacher who had blubbed so much at graduation also came over and the three of them grilled me about the differences between Japanese and British beer and whiskey. They were much surprised to hear I like Yebisu, and much satisfied to hear I detest happoshu (nasty tasting pretend beer). They also reacted with near pain and tears to hear I was not staying an extra year - this from two men I have only ever seen through a classroom window working in the gardens, and from the other who only seems to notice me in school when he has to walk around me to the coffee maker.

Finally the janitor made horns with his fingers and said he had to go home, "Wakarimasu? Wifu? You wifu?" Thankfully Brad called at that point to demand why I wasn't the Jazz Bar enjoying fine martinis. I made my excuses to the principals - which involved more topping off and drinking of beers, and escaped.

And back to waking up with a raging hangover and pounding headache. As I opened my eyes Robin turned to me and said, "Hello beery boy, what time did - MY GOD! What's happened to your tooth!?"

Which is never something you want to hear when you're so hung over you can’t see.

Somewhere between leaving the Jazz Bar and waking up the cap on my chipped front tooth had fallen out and now I look like a pirate.

I'm going on the wagon. But not for my birthday of course. Or the long awaited "Pub Quiz Night." Beach cocktails in Thailand. Oh, and the "Spring Formal." After JET. After JET I'm going on the wagon.

For a bit.