Only a few centuries ago, good manners sometimes meant the difference between life and death. Back in the Edo Period (1603-1868), even lower-ranking samurai had the right of 切捨御免 (kirisute gomen), which translates as “permission to kill commoners for perceived affronts.”

These days, being 礼儀正しい (reigi tadashii, well-mannered) isn’t quite so vital, but it is still taken for granted that マナーは人柄を映す(manā wa hitogara o utsusu, a person’s manners reflect their character). Unfortunately for me, my manners are still calibrated to “American.”

Imagine my concern, then, when my landlady invited me to tea. We don’t interact much, but when I first met her to sign the lease, she had said, 「すごく真面目そうな人だから安心している」 (Sugoku majimesōna hito dakara anshin shite-iru, You seem like a very responsible young man, so I’m not worried). But I was certain that within five seconds of setting foot in her 和室 (washitsu, Japanese-style room), that illusion would be punched full of holes like the 障子紙 (shōji gami, shōji paper) windows in my house.

その一方で (Sono ippō de, On the other hand), I couldn’t just tell her すみませんが、行けないんです (sumimasen ga, ikenai-n-desu), which is a polite way of refusing such an invitation. Instead, I heard these words come out of my mouth: 「ぜひ、楽しみにしております」 (Zehi, tanoshimi ni shite-orimasu, Certainly, I look forward to it).

Things looked grim, but I have a talent for 一夜漬け (ichiya-zuke, last-minute study) so I set about reading everything I could find on 行儀作法 (gyōgi sahō, proper manners).

On a side note, that term 一夜漬け literally means “pickled overnight.” It is coincidentally also the amount of time needed to turn cucumbers into ぬか漬け (nukazuke, pickles made with rice bran), a dish that my landlady served when I arrived. This was shortly after I had politely greeted her with, 「お邪魔致します」 (O-jama itashimasu, “Thank you for having me”) and before both my legs fell asleep while sitting in on my knees in 正座 (seiza). The word for this feeling is 痺れる (shibireru, to go numb), and the sensation of your limbs “waking up” again can be described with onomatopoeic terms such as ちくちくする (chiku-chiku suru, to prickle) or ピリピリする (piri-piri suru, to tingle). This is the same ピリ as in ピリ辛キュウリ (piri-kara kyūri, tingly hot cucumber pickles). But enough about pickles; let’s get seated.

Although it is important to know how to sit, it is even more important to know where to sit. In a 座敷 (zashiki, tatami-floored room), the space is divided into 上座 (kamiza, “upper” seating) and 下座 (geza, “lower” seating). Generally, the farther from the door you are, the more “important” you are. As a guest, you will probably be offered the innermost seat, and, as a guest, your best bet is to politely refuse it by saying something like, 「あっ、いいえ、私はこちらで...」 (Aa, iie, watashi wa kochira de, No no, I’m fine here). When you enter, take care not to tread on the patterned borders of the tatami, known as the 畳べり (tatamiberi).

If you dread sitting in 正座, the traditional Japanese seated posture, you’re not alone. Even Japanese acquaintances have admitted to me that 「もう正座で座る機会はあんまないから慣れていないんだよな」 (Mō seiza de suwaru kikai wa anma nai kara nareteinai-n-dayo na, Most people don’t sit in seiza much anymore, so I’m not used to it). Hopefully, your host will also feel this way and quickly relieve you of the obligation by saying, 「どうぞ脚を崩してください」 (Dōzo ashi o kuzushite kudasai, Please feel free to sit comfortably). そう言われたら胡坐をかいてもいい (Sō iwaretara agura o kaite mo ii, That means it’s OK to sit cross-legged). But, beware! When it comes to “sitting comfortably,” your options are surprisingly limited.

Japanese has words for a whole bunch of styles of sitting: there’s 体育座り (taiiku-zuwari, gym class-style), where you bring your knees up to your chest and hold them; 立て膝 (tate hiza), which is bringing one knee to your chest and extending the other one out ... like the cool kids in gym class did; or there’s sitting with both legs extended outward. These three styles can look somewhat childish or a bit too comfortable for a formal setting like your landlady’s house, so it’s best to avoid them. No, the only alternative to 正座 here is あぐらをかいて座る (agura o kaite suwaru, to sit with your legs crossed). Don’t forget, 背筋をピンと伸ばして (sesuji o pin to nobashite, keep your back nice and straight).

From there, let the conversation fly. Steer clear of personal questions, politics and anything sexual (this is why the Japanese love to talk about food). Finish off with a ご馳走様でした (gochisōsama deshita, thank you for your hospitality) and as you exit the front door, end your stream of thank-yous with an お邪魔しました (o-jama shimashita, sorry for the intrusion). Next time you see your host, thank them one more time for good measure. In my case, my landlady is now certain her apartment is in good hands.