OZUMO!

I capitalized the title of this post because Ozumo is a big event. Literally. Ozumo= sumo. Sumo wrestlers are probably the largest people I will see in Japan, but man, can they move!

After returning from Toyama with my family, I decided to take a day off. A day of recovery after being overexposed to family members and overfed by family members all weekend, if you will. My brain was fried because I had heard nothing but very fast Japanese for the past two days, and I needed a break. I needed Americans, and something closely resembling American culture.

Fat men slamming into each other in a semi-violent setting seemed like it would do the trick, so my 2 fellow Valparaiso women and I agreed to meet at the train station the following day to enjoy a day of sumo. Luckily, our Spring break fell right within the Osaka March Sumo Tournament. The next day, around 0900, if I recall correctly, we set out from Hirakata-shi towards Osaka. We caught what we thought was the Tokkyu line, but after ending up in Naniwabashi, a station none of us had ever been to, we realized we had caught the other rapid express line. While we had attempted to call trains by their Japanese names before the mishap, we now have resorted to calling the lines by their colors. 'Remember, let's not catch the purple line, but the red line'. Such foreigners we are, sometimes.

Anyways, we finally reached our destination station, Yodoyobashi. Yodoyobashi, along with most of the stations in Osaka, are huge, super-hubs that usually house one or more train line, along with one or more subway lines, and a mall. One cannot simply find Yodoyobashi station and get on the first train they see. You have to sniff them out. There is Yodoyobashi Keihan, Yodoyobashi JR, Midosuji, and at least one more line that I can think of (and they all conveniently don't go in the same directions). We caught the proper line (Midosuji) to the stop that looked like it would be closest to the Osaka Prefectural Gymnasium (Namba)and set off walking.

Osaka is a big city, second largest in Japan actually, but I am beginning to think after several trips to it that no one actually lives there. The streets are relatively quiet, people are not packed onto sidewalks like the video clips one generally see of Tokyo where oceans of people flow non-stop through crosswalks. It is quiet, and as we kept walking it got quieter and less attractive. We all simultaniously got the feeling that we had crossed the 'magic line' into a neighborhood that is not intended for tourism. There was no one on the streets, though we were surrounded on all sides by skyscrapers, malls, and towering freeways, there were really no people. It was like in the Western films when you hear the protagonist whisper,"It's quiet. Too quiet." We eventually decided to stop and ask someone who looked like a cop where the Osaka Taikukan was. He graciously told us that we were very close and gave us turn by turn directions, walking us to orient us in the proper direction. Japanese Keisatsu (police) are much more helpful than American police officers, and much better at giving directions. I personally feel that it's because all Japanese cops really have to do is give directions. There is virtually no crime in Japan. I can actually draw a close similarity between the Elmhurst and Japanese Police. A cat is stuck in a tree, call for backup. Someone's tail light is out, call for more backup. Get your bicycle ready, we may have a chase here. At least the Elmhurst Police have weapons just in case things get ugly. No police officer throughout all of Japan is authorized to carry a gun. Interesting.




With the help of the friendly city guide, we quickly found the Gymnasium. There were brilliant banners flapping all over the face of the entrance, and immediately inside stands were set up, each stand and their occupants looking as if they belonged to different clubs or organizations. They all wore traditional Japanese clothing, kimonos all around. Some of the stands looked like they maybe had customers, which led me to believe that these were possibly stands set up to take bets on the outcome of the tournament. I never really found out, but speculation is ok with me. We proceeded to purchase tickets, 3000円 a pop, but for second tier seating. The women working the ticket counter all huddled around the box I was ordering the tickets from,
"Oh, you're so pretty like movie star!"
"Thanks?" The 3000 yen was a good deal. However, we decided to wait a while (since it was only about 1030) before entering because the tickets were not the come-and-go-as-you-please type.




A sumo tournament takes course over a span of 15 days. There are several different skill levels in every tournament. Each person has one match per day, and the person with the most wins by the end of the tournament in each skill level is declared the victor in their category. Each day, there are opening ceremonies, followed by the lowest skill levels, and followed by more skilled competitors (rikishi). So the later in the day it is, the more people show up, the more exciting the matches become, and the more televised they become.

Since we wanted to skip over the less skilled rikishi, we decided to check out a nearby mall and see what we could find. We found a Starbucks! Now, I am not one to drink coffee, but Starbucks was advertising something called the Sakura steamer. Sakura cherry blossoms in Japan are world renowned, so around this time every year, everything becomes sakura-themed (tiny, pink, and flowery). I figured I would only be in Japan and able to try the Sakura steamer once, so we all went and ordered one. They were interesting, light pink drinks. They had a vaguely salty cherry-ish flavor. They were different, but we enjoyed them none-the-less. It really was bizarre sitting in a S'bucks in downtown Osaka listening to the same music that I always heard in the S'bucks in Illinois. After the finishing the Sakura Steamers and being creepily eye-balled by a man across the cafe, we decided to set out to explore the mall more.





Our search lead us to a partially-subterranean mall with shops ranging from 'Hollywood fashion' to Toys R' Us to homemade Indian Hemp and cultural trinkets, to a store that may have been started by Lady Gaga herself. Japanese malls are very interesting, I'll just say.



The Opiginal.



Navy stuff in Japan (granted, it was on clearance)



Of course.



Is this why their view of American women is so distorted, and why they assume we all have blonde hair and are baked to a crisp?



The Japanese version of easy-bake oven. Instead of cupcakes, you can make tacoyaki! (Octopus balls)



AWESOME shoes.





Creepy face on a box. They eyes move and so does the mouth. It's a nightmare.



Markey Sharkey, he he he.






After we had our senses thoroughly overwhelmed, we agreed it was time to head back to the sumo tourney. It was about 1400 by that time, so the amateurs were still going at it, but the higher levels were getting ready to start. We entered the Gymnasium and were led to our seats by a young woman in a lime green jacket. Most of the people who were working could actually speak English relatively well;we were all surprised. We set our things in our seats and set off to find souveniers and snacks (the stadium was nearly empty still). This is when the assumption that sumo would be almost American was overthrown.

There were no hot dog stands or the Japanese version of hot dog stands anywhere. There were several gift shops, but they all sold the same things, and had very limited snack food. We all know it is not like that in America. Anyone and everyone who can make a buck off of a sporting event does so, and with flourish, too. Right about when we began to panic (we had assumed we could eat lunch in the stadium) we came across a stand with a modest selection of sandwiches and more edible food-stuffs. Having purchased those and some souvenirs, we made our way back to our seats, content once more. While eating our lunch, we looked around the stadium and noticed that the people in the 'box' seats ( 4 cushions on the ground separated from the next 4 cushions by silver piping) were getting food delivered to them. We didn't pout about it too much, because none of us was fluent enough to find, call, order, and give directions to a restaurant. It was just one of those cultural bridges we knew we would not cross (and I think we were all ok with it).

We sat in our seats, and we chatted about life and we watched sumo and we drank our drinks. It all felt very natural. We all gasped at the same time as the Japanese people around us whenever a rikishi flew out of the ring into the crowd. It was fun, it was relaxing, it was everything a sporting event should be!










However, the core of Sumo is very religious, and all of the clothing, rituals, motions, etc is all anchored in Shinto religion at some distant point in the past. The Yokozuna, or reigning champion, top rikishi, whatever you wish to describe him as, performs a purifying ceremony later in the day, that we were lucky enough to catch. The crowd grows silent, so you know something is about to happen. And sure enough, a high ranking referee and 3 rikishi appear from the tunnels where the athletes emerge. One of the rikishi holds a katana (sword). The middle rikishi wears a large, white rope belt over his regular sumo belt. The belt weighs 25-30lbs, or so I am told. The last rikishi follows behind the first 2. All 4 members step up onto the raised ring platform, and the Rikishi in the middle (the Yokozuna) steps forward into the middle of the ring. The crowd screams and cheers for him as he centers himself. Then, as his arm raises towards the sky, palm up the crowd hushes. He flips his hand, palm down, and brings it down to rest on his large flant. He then lifts this leg up high, and the roar of the crowd rips through the silence as his foot slams down on the sand in the ring. Then they immediately hush once more. He repeats this ritual with the other hand and leg and crowd repeats their seemingly-choreographed shouts. The Rikishi then centers himself once more and turns to walk out of the ring with the other rikishi following. An excited crowd calls after him as he exits the arena.







Now, this would be cool just to watch, but I need to know what the meaning is. I'm sure you would like to know as well, so here are the meanings behind this giant's dance. The sword bearing rikishi is the 'sword-bearer' for the Yokozuna. There are no weapons used in sumo, it is purely symbolic. The large white belt worn by the Yokozuna is a purely shinto symbol. The white belt with white tassles is said to be worn by the kami, or gods. The color white represents purity. The rikishi raises his hands, palm up to show that he is not concealing any weapons. The rikishi then lifts his leg and stamps the ground, symbolically stomping out all evil from the ring. These actions are performed by all rikishi, no matter what skill level you are. Interesting, no?

Well, what a day it was. I learned a LOT of new things about sumo, to pack my own meals for sporting events, to maybe start calling trains by their colors, and to never miss a chance to try something new or explore a Japanese mall. It's a good one for the memory book!

-Sarah

Family Vacation

So for my Spring break, my friends and myself had this elaborate plan to go to Tokyo for the week. However, a couple of broken laptops later, this costly trip seemed less feasibly to most in the group. So instead of a Tokyo trip, we decided we would explore our area a bit more, since it is the ancient cultural capital of Japan.

However, much to my surprise, my host parents sat me down and told me that they would like to have me come along with them to my host father's family reunion. I was very surprised to say the least. When I had first met them, they had told me about the trip, but they had scheduled for me to stay behind in the seminar houses for the duration of it- understandable, they didn't want me feeling overwhelmed by the culture, and they didn't know me that well. However, they said after seeing how happily I took chances and tried new things, the interest I expressed in Japanese religions, and the developing rate of my language skills, they decided to cancel my stay in the seminar house and bring me along.

Apparently I am the first student they have ever brought with them... no pressure. I was also meeting the matriarch of the family, all of his siblings and their children and their children, and I would be staying in a family member's house. The various levels of proper courtesies, proper language, and proper actions that must be used when visiting an honored guest's house is dizzying. Not only was I visiting, but I was also being sheltered and fed the entire weekend. . This is a major imposition in Japan,(The house-owner's wife ran around pouring sweat the entire weekend, but with a smile on her face) but since it is a family reunion it is expected. However, the numbers of humble customs one must perform is also intimidating. Needless to say, the honorific language I had been tested on for my midterm was put into use nearly every minute of the day, hopefully in the correct format...

We left early in the morning 04:30 on Saturday, and I simply slept for 3 more hours. The trip was comfortable; my host father had just purchased a brand new mega van with fully reclinable seats, etc.(Japanese traffic accidents happen much less when compared with the US, so certain features that wouldn't fly in America are in Japanese cars). The drive was a beautiful ones. My ears popped over and over again as we drove further and further north in to the mountains and through the mountain tunnels. One peculiar thing I noticed about Japanese road trips is that everyone stops at EVERY rest area. The areas themselves are much more developed than in America. Each pit stop has at least 2 restaurants, a small grocer, VERY nice restrooms, and many even had a Starbucks.

The manner in which we proceeded about stopping at them was interesting as well. We would pull in, park, turn off the car and then get out. There was no rush, though. No sprint to the bathrooms and then sprint back. At every station, my parents and I would wander around the shops, my parents would buy souveneirs or snacks, and we would sit down and enjoy a couple cups of the free green tea or buy some coffee. At the first rest stop, the minute the car stopped, I was out, speed walking to the bathroom and then speed walking back to the van when my host father called me over to him. "Sarah... we are going inside to drink some coffee... are you going to come?" It took me a while to get used to this pattern, but by the end of the trip, I had begun to appreciate the 20 minute break after every hour and a half of driving. It certainly kept everyone alert, and the trip was more fun. We would stop and chat and joke and laugh and look at maps instead of driving with an urgent purpose, like most Americans do.

The one thing I still laugh about was had we not stopped, the drive itself would have only taken 5 hours! In America, at least in my family, we stop maybe twice or 3 times a day, if we are taking a multiple day trip. Once for lunch, once for dinner, and one random bathroom break somewhere in between there. If I was looking at a five hour drive, I would not plan for a rest time, I would plan to drive the whole thing at once. Americans, working ourselves to our maximum efficiency even on vacation time.

Halfway through the drive, I started reading WWZ, a great book by the way, so I was surprised when my okasan told me to look up and I was staring at jagged, snowy-capped mountains. They looked just as grand as the Rockies, not the gentle blue mounds I was used to seeing in Osaka region. There was something very special about seeing snow again, I realize now I missed out on most of the winter in Illinois, and I really did miss it! It was a hazy day, so the pictures I have didn't really capture as well what I could see with my human eyes. But man, were those mountains gorgeous.










After reaching the Bay area of Toyama, called 'Namerica'- weird, I know- my host family took me to a variety of interesting museums. The first was an aquarium dedicated to the documentation and cultural significance of a species of Bioluminescent squid found only in the Toyama bay area. They glow blue in the dark water, and are also quite a delicacy. Half way through the museum, I noticed I was being shadowed by a television camera. My otosan informed me that this part of Japan has zero tourism attraction, there are few English translations, and people rarely see non-Japanese. I felt like the American ambassador! The camera was very much in my face, observing me as I interacted with exhibits and read materials. Finally, the camera man pulled my host father aside and asked where I was from and if I spoke Japanese. My otosan, dropping the ball, told him I spoke Japanese very well. Immediately after, the cameraman shoved a microphone into my hand and started drilling me with questions. "What did I think of the exhibit, where was I from, why was I here?" I kept my answers very short. Basic Japanese. No need to get wordy and sound like an idiot when I made a mistake.







Shortly after my surprise interview, we all left the aquarium and walked around a bit on the shore line. Toyama is unique in that in one direction, you have the vast Japan sea, and if you turn 180 degrees in the other direction, the Japanese Alps are rising up steeply behind you. Gorgeous. We walked along the ocean for a while- it was an uncharacteristically balmy day. Afterwards, we visited a nearby museum on submerged forests and mirage effects that can be seen on the surface of ocean water. Both were pretty interesting.







After delaying the inevitable for quite long enough, we headed towards my otosan's family household, the house had grown up in, and the house his older brother and wife now lived in with their mother. Driving up, the house was huge! I was shocked, Japan values economic living quarters and small houses. They told me he had recently built an addition on the house, hence its size. The house lay directly on the ocean shore. It had a beautiful view, and one could hear the gentle pounding of the waves at all times. What a wonderful white noise to live with, no? I met the older brother first. I rushed my honorific greeting, and he nodded and said hello. It was the same with his wife, except she was overwhelmingly bubbly and jubilant. My otosan's mother smiled kindly from the corner where she was sitting- she had some mobility difficulties.

My parents and I went everwhere together throughout the house, whenever they left a room, they asked me to follow, even if it was something simple like going to check on the dog upstairs. I feel they didn't want to leave me alone with too many strange people, especially since everyone used a dialect that was much different and MUCH faster than the Osaka area. I barely understood the elder brother, but I understood everyone else just fine. They all slowed down when they were talking to me (which was also how I knew they were talking to me and not someone else). After a short greeting and traditional offering of tea to the guests, the lady of the house brought out a large tray of breads, nuts, treats, etc. It was much more than the 6 people in the room needed for a snack, but this is a signature of Japanese culture. More than enough food is enough.

While we were eating the older brother's Eldest daughter and her husband showed up. She was early 30s, most likely, and was a very relaxed person, and was my conversation partner for most of the trip. She wore baggy jeans, clogs, hemp jewelry, and maintained a very natural look. It made her easier to approach, I think. Her husband was a hulk of a man, and I wondered if he had participated in sumo in the past. He was a joker, always made sure my sake glass was full, and was the comic relief in the group.

And of course, with them they brought more food. It was laid out on the table, a small mixing bowl full of raw squid, the bioluminescent kind I had learned about earlier. They were small and purple. Everyone of course had no idea what the american ate or how she ate, and everyone was concerned. they handed me some chopsticks and they my host parents encouraged me to try everything in front of me. It probably would have been rude not to. So I picked up one of the raw squid, trying not to let my terror show my face. (let's just say the theme for food on this trip was 'well... I AM in Japan, where else am I gonna eat this?') So I stared down my squid (in the eyes creepily enough) briefly and then popped it in my mouth. I only chewed 3 times, but pretended to chew more. Much to my... surprise... The head was packed full of something. I am going to tell myself it was full of fish past and not the guts of the squid. Because it did taste like fish when it squeezed out after my first chew.



And of course, everyone was sitting around the table watching the entire time. "Sarah, daijyobudesuka? Iidesuka?" "Is it ok? Is it good?" I reviewed the squid in my mind. The taste wasn't awful, maybe even good. But the texture and appearace would have earned the squid a spot on fear factor. So, weighing the good with the bad, I announced that it was good. And of course, someone promptly appeared with another bowl of squid. "Eat more, please.". So I wound up eating 10 or so more squid. The more I ate, the more I learned the proper way to eat them (without gagging). Of course you have to eat the thing whole, but I learned how to chew strategically. Bite the head off and swallow it immediately. The legs were actually quite enjoyable, and I took my time chewing that part.

After that joyous experience, everyone piled outside into cars to go to the Onsen, or Japanese public bath house. It is not only a good thing to do with family, but is more practical. Having 12-15 people trying to bath in a single bathroom at the house was most likely near impossible. This was actually the part I had been dreading. In Japan public baths and hot springs are very common and more than likely every Japanese person has been to one at least once in their lifetime. My oka and otosan go once every 2 months. The steaming hot waters are very relaxing and some onsens even offer meals and overnight stays. It was also cheap. Our onsen was only $6 a person. The catch is that everyone is completely naked. Of course, genders are not allowed to be mixed, but still, being naked in a room full of women from 2 up to 90 is a little unnerving. Especially if you are in an area with a 0% foreigner population and happen to be taller and blonder than everyone else in the bath house.

Thankfully, my okasan had thought of this, and she brought me a sheet that I could use to wrap around myself. Of course, there was no avoiding the washing area. Everyone had to take a shower and be thoroughly clean before entering the hot water, so everyone was packed into the public shower area. you had your own bucket to sit on, and your own mirrow, own faucet, and own set of soaps. but still, there was no separation from the person next to you. Fun times. After that exposure, I was allowed to enter into the various baths, and the women from the family followed me. There were two daughters, two aunts, the grandmother, my mother, and a granddaughter and a grandson. We had a little family circle that was only broken occasionally by a stranger asking a family member where I was from and telling them that I was beautiful. It was a little awkward, but not unbearable.

About an hour later, all the women were redressed and waiting for the men (they were all busy blow drying their hair). After we all were together, we headed down one floor to grab dinner at a sashimi restaurant. I must have eaten 8 different kinds of fish, rice, soup, beans, etc. It was a delicious dinner, capped off with a shotglass full of beer. The Japanese do everything on a smaller scale than America does it (except for seafood) After dinner, we all went back to the house and all ~15 people gathered around the low living room table chatting and drinking tea and eating some more. The eating never really stops. It was an early bed time for my parents and myself. I was privileged enough to get my own room near the back of the house, closest to the ocean. I fell asleep listening to those gentle waves and reminiscing about my day.






The next day started with an early breakfast. Myself and my parents came downstairs to the most magnificent breakfast feast I had ever seen. Ever. Each person had five plates at their place. One was full of the purple squid. One had a lettuce, tomato, and egg salad. One was a bowl of soup, and the rest were empty. The table had mountains of various types of bread heaped on it. Long, two food platters were filled with various types of fruits. Jams, honey, soy sauce, liters of juice were all on the table as well. There was more, but I don't remember. Just as I sat down and was wondering how all this had happened without me smelling or hearing it, the lady of the house came gliding/sprinting out what I assume was the kitchen with a tray full of steaming tea cups. She was dripping with sweat, but still smiling widely. "Ohayoo Sarah-chan!" (Good Morning) After everyone else had everything they needed, she sat and ate as well. Everyone watched me as I ate, trying to figure out what I liked so they could heap more of it onto my plate. I had 4 separate people replacing my plate with bread and with fruit, even though I could reach it myself. It was odd being served my breakfast instead of fighting people off to get my breakfast. :)

After breakfast, it was firmly requested that I stay upstairs while the family cleaned and prepared for the arrival of a Buddhist priest. The family, every so many years will gather at the house where the family Buddhist shrine resides and will bring in a Buddhist preist to perform a spirit worship ceremony. It is said that on certain days of the year, the dead are lurking closer to earth and that is when the ceremony should be performed. The past relatives are then in your presence for the remainder of the day, celebrating the event with you.

The following are some pictures of the preist performing his ceremony. The family was kind enough to actually let me sit in and record/ take pictures. Very interesting.








After the ceremony, a large banquet was served. It was ordered and delivered by a special company. Let me just say, the squid was nothing. I ate a lot of raw things that I never care to eat again. Some things were good, mind you, but the textures were way more than I could handle! After a very long series of goodbyes and bows and waves and more goodbyes and bows just for good measure, we set off once more from the house.

We began the same slow trip back to Osaka. We arrived around dinner time, grabbed a bite at a local buffet style restaurant (something easy), and then headed home. We got home around 8PM, but we were all so tired we just immediately went to bed.

It was an interesting trip, to say the least, and I made a lot of good connections in Northern Japan that I won't soon forget. I also learned exactly how strong Japanese hospitality is and not to be afraid of food. The little things that used to gross me out don't anymore, I seem to be a less picky eater, this much is sure :)

Until next time,

Sarah