There are probably few who haven't heard of the tradition Japanese arts of, say, the tea ceremony, or perhaps judo. These arts (or "ways" in Japanese) are probably unique to the Japanese cultural tradition, or at least they would like you to believe such is the case.

Whether it is "The Way of the Tea Ceremony" or "The Way of Archery" or any other "Way," the way each "Way" is performed is completely and minutely prescribed, so one can basically see the same form no matter where you visit in Japan.

Also, contrary to the average American way of thinking, the correct performance of the integral ceremonial steps in a Japanese Way can often be more important than the result of the performance. For instance, in traditional Way of Japanese archery, if the footwork, method of kneeling, hand motions, the pulling of the bowstring, and the release are done to perfection, it doesn't matter so much if you just happen to miss the target!

Therefore, when I arrived in Nango, I had wanted to learn at least one of these cultural Ways. But I found these Ways to be even more formidable than I had thought. I quickly learned that it takes years of practice to learn how to correctly perform even one of the these Japanese Ways, and since I would only be in Nango for a couple years, I ended up thinking, "Well, so much for that idea." I was quite disappointed.

But one day late in my first year in Nango, I at last detected a Way so unique to Japan that even the Japanese themselves had never consciously discerned it! Until I brought it to the light of day in the local press, that is. It had strictly decreed ceremony, the form was more important than the results, not to mention the many tortuous Steps.

The best thing about this Way was that I had confidence that I could master it in just a couple years.

Let me explain.

As Nango's CIR, I had many opportunities to attend and participate in various meetings around town and became well acquainted with the methodology.

But I noticed a strange thing about all these meeting. Whether it was an Adult's Day ceremony, or a PTA meeting, or even the much-anticipated Retrospective Meeting (a.k.a. a drinking party), the steps were in exactly the same pattern! And whether it was a meeting for children or adults, and whether the number of people attending were many or few, the steps didn't seem to change in substance, only increase or decrease in number!

Thus, through these experiences, I began comprehending that in Japan there is truly another ceremonial Way--the Way of the Meeting--and I have been diligently studying to become a disciple of this Way ever since. Not only does it enrich my Japanese studies, it also serves to keep at least some of my higher brain functions active during especially dull meetings.

If you've been to even one meeting in Japan, you are probably painfully aware of the basic procedures in this Way, but I'll do a quick review for you.

There are six basic steps:

1. Opening words (given by the second in command). This is short and sweet, requiring no personality or tonal injection, as in "We will now begin the Nango Elementary graduation exercises on this 23rd day of March, in the 4th year of the Heisei Emperor." It usually sets the tone for the rest of the meeting.
2. Opening greeting (given by the head host). In rare situations, this will be off the cuff, but more than likely, it will be read from a piece of paper folded up like a fan you made as kids.
3. Speech Number One (a.k.a. "Boring Speech Number One). In my three years in Nango, I only heard three speeches given that could be classified as truly interesting. One was a motivational speaker, so maybe he shouldn't count, but they all received between two and five thousand dollars in thank-you money, which should hint at the dearth of really good speakers in Japan. Except for the three exceptions noted above, main speakers also read from a fan-folded scroll.
4. Speech Number Two (a.k.a. "Boring Speech...). Read the previous section again.
5. Three "Banzais" (led by a grandfather type). And you probably thought Banzais were only yelled during suicidal attacks against Marines at Guadalcanal (as I once did!) No, the Banzai cheer is still in good health in Japan.
6. Closing Words (the words we all anxiously await). These words are also monotonal, and mimic the Opening Words, with the word "begin" exchanged for the word "end."

Now, these are only the basic steps to the way of the meeting. An expert of this Way (of the 5th or 6th rank) can skillfully orchestrate a meeting with twelve or even more steps.

If you are in doubt as to the number of steps in a meeting, as you enter the room, look to the walls behind either side of the podium, where you can usually espy a large, neatly calligraphied piece of paper with the Steps. Happy counting!

But a word of caution.

As a general rule, the greater the number of steps, the greater the boredom. For example, if you are invited to a graduation ceremony at an elementary school, be sure to tactfully ascertain the number of graduating sixth-graders before committing yourself. In a larger school, this is at least a 14-step Meeting, and besides the unendurable speeches, at the innocuously labeled Meeting Step "Presentation of Diplomas" the principal personally hands out diplomas to each and every graduating student, complete with full bows before and after each presentation. If you must attend one of these full-blown affairs, I suggest bringing a pillow for your chair and doodling materials.

The Way of the Meeting is certainly a Way unique to Japan, and for a city hall employee like myself, it was an important--and unavoidable--part of my study of modern Japanese culture.

And though some may call it bragging, in just the first eight months in Nango, I worked my way up to the 3rd rank of the Way, and by the time of left Nango, I had attained the 5th rank and was well on my way to the 6th rank. Achieving a perfect 10 is a hard goal, but I am striving to attain it--and I have an advantage.

For three years I worked in Nango City Hall, rubbing shoulders with some of the great masters of the Way of the Meeting, who gave me many in-depth opportunities to study their methods, and though I don't necessarily think of it as revenge, I would like to return in kind.

But I also realize my weaknesses too. No matter how hard I try, I find it almost impossible to give a boring speech--a must if one is to attain perfection in the Way of the Meeting. But perhaps someday, if I persevere, perhaps I can overcome this nasty fault?

Well, we'll see.

© 1991, Louis A. Floyd