Many New Experiences

This will be quite a long entry, with an unfortunate lack of photographs, so please bear with me. I promise I will have some photos and videos of the exciting bits soon.

Last week, I had a brief introduction at the elementary school I’ll be working at twice a week. Elementary schools in Japan have only recently been required to make English part of their curriculum for 5th and 6th grades, as previously there was something like a “foreign language” fun time class. So, as you might expect the teachers there are a bit less equipped to teach English than at the middle school. They were relieved that I was able to speak some Japanese, not only to communicate with them (even though their English has been quite good!) but to communicate with the students in case they don’t understand something in English. It seems like I might have some big shoes to fill at the elementary school, because my predecessor was quite the character, very loud and very fun, something that I’ll at least attempt to be but we’ll see how that goes.

Speaking of shoes, at Japanese schools you are supposed to remove your outside shoes and wear specific shoes for school in an effort to keep the school clean and surely instill some kind of discipline in the students. I knew this already, so I bought an extra pair of shoes for this purpose. However, as I left the elementary school with my school shoes that I had brought from the middle school in my backpack, my supervisor told me something to the extent of “it could be a good idea to get a new pair of shoes,” which, given the famous Japanese penchant for directness, really meant “buy a new pair of shoes as soon as possible or you’re going to look bad.” So I got on that as soon as possible, thank you Amazon. At least now when I come back to the U.S. I’ll have shoes for the next 10-ish years, I guess.

After that it was back to the middle school without any real clue of what it is I’d be doing at the elementary school, but that would be figured out soon enough (to the greatest extent possible). Here I hadn’t spoken to any of the other teachers besides the English teachers I’ll be working with yet, so it was a bit awkward in the staff room. I’ve experienced and heard from other people, including Japanese people, many many times that the Japanese are not so keen on small talk, meeting new people, etc., which is of course only exacerbated by the (honestly fair) assumption that someone who is not Japanese can’t speak their language. This assumption coupled with typical Japanese politeness leads to a well documented encounter whereupon a foreigner says something in Japanese and is enthusiastically complimented on how good they are at the language, no matter how simple what they’ve said is. I have certainly received my fair share of “nihongo jouzu”s, and I understand why people feel patronized when they say a simple phrase and are praised for it constantly, but it’s definitely just one of many cultural differences between the U.S. and Japan. The Japanese definitely don’t expect foreigners to learn their isolated “little island language”, right? And English being the lingua franca is the only reason I’m here in the first place after all. This all being said, there is a way to know that a Japanese person is genuinely impressed with your level of Japanese. And that’s when they ask you how long you’ve lived in Japan. And while talking with one of the non-English teachers that day I was asked that question… except I misheard it! I thought she had asked me how long I planned to stay in Japan, so to her when she asked how long I’d been in Japan I answered “I don’t know.” Oops! Shows how much I deserved that compliment, haha. But obviously the key to learning a language is to keep trying, which is something I hope to express to the kids here. I understand that forming workplace relationships is slow going and I have to be patient (especially when you can only sometimes understand what’s going on and are only there for some parts of the week) in a place like Japan where constant presence and sense of community are so important, but it’s definitely a little jarring being the odd one out. But this cultural unfamiliarity is a challenge I was excited to tackle while here, so I’m looking forward to bridging the gap as well as I can.

That Friday night, I decided it was best for my health to stay in (a great decision in hindsight). At about 9pm I went to a nearby conbini for a late night snack and heard in the distance the low reverberating thunder of drum beats, coupled with the whining atonal flutes of traditional Japanese music. I quickly texted my supervisor to see if there was an event I was missing, but she let me know that it was just practice for the big town festival next month! I’ve been hearing these practices echo into the night ever since, and my History degree has shaken in my brain in anticipation and joy ever since.

The next morning I left town and took a slow rural train up the coast to an “international sumo exhibition” I had heard about. I invited another JET who lived along the way and we went to watch. Along the way I got to see the wonderful rugged, rural beauty of Japan, with its small villages full of that typical Asian roofing that butt up against the dense mountain forests. From what I saw on the website, the applications to join had been closed for two weeks so we were fully expecting to sit and watch the whole thing play out. We walked to the sumo grounds and were greeted so warmly that I was a bit off put at first. “These people are trying to get me into some pyramid scheme or something,” I thought. I soon came to realize that us two had equaled the amount of English speaking Japanese volunteers for the event, as there were now four foreigners in total, so I went along with their guidance. Initially when we showed up, they asked if we would participate. I was wholly unprepared for that turn of events and so was my buddy, so for the moment we insisted on just watching. Neither of us had seen sumo in real life before, and watching the highly ritualized beginnings, short bursts of wrestling action, and respectful bowing at the end during the team matches really got us going. We both decided to join for the individual event in a fit of fantastic masculine excitement. Luckily, the actual sumo wrestlers, who would’ve eaten me for breakfast, sat out this part and left it to the amateurs. We didn’t have to take off any clothes, but I took my shirt off just because. Imagine someone trying to fight you shirtless with a big ass belt tied around his cargo pants, I thought I was quite intimidating.

I don’t know how many people there had experience with sumo before, but it really was tough. Sumo isn’t about size necessarily, especially because of how fast it is. The sudden burst of aggressive fury and technique about how to take your opponent down is paramount. The first two bouts I lost because I stepped out of the ring while throwing my opponent and then by accidentally putting my hands on the ground while trying to go for a grab. One of the other participants gave me some advice and told me to calm down and slow down. I thought the next would be my final match so I steeled myself to try to win just one. I caught my opponent close to the ring and used my American Football lineman training to keep my legs churning and force him out, which received a raucous approval from the crowd. I was gassed, but once I stepped out of the ring I was told I had one more match. I had seen one of the real sumo wrestlers pick someone up by their belt (which is actually really sturdy) and carry him outside the ring. I thought that looked incredibly cool so I wanted to try it. This match I got the opportunity. I managed to get both hands on my opponent’s belt and picked him up and set him outside the ring. The people sitting under their tents and in the shade in the intense summer heat were so excited at such a display, and my adrenaline was running high. I was told I qualified for the next round. I kept fighting, match after match, win after win, small cup of tea after small cup of tea whenever I said “I need some water”. Eventually, I started hearing people cheering for me when it was my turn. The town this event is held in is known for its sumo, and even has a sumo wrestler at the highest level right now, so I take it as a great honor that they thought I was doing well.

I went through several towels wiping off my sweat so as not to give myself a slippery advantage, as one is supposed to. Finally, it was the championship match. I stared at my opponent at the edge of the ring, and threw salt high into the air, as did he, which landed on the opponent’s entry point signifying that “this area is mine”. It was the same man who had given me the advice earlier. He was shorter and leaner but had made quick work of his opponents with his explosive speed thus far. We stepped into the ring, performed the customary squat and ceremonial clap, and readied ourselves for the match. After an initial give and take it was a near repeat of my first match where I had my opponent and threw him, but stepped out of the ring. However this time, it was so intense that as I threw him he fell out of the ring and I fell after him off of the elevated floor of the sacred sumo ring onto the mats outside. The judges got together and conferred. They couldn’t tell who’d won! We’d have to fight again! I was thrilled at the chance because I thought I had made the same mistake as in my first fight, so any thought of exhaustion left my head. We fought again and I was able to throw him to the ground by grabbing his belt. I WON! I WON A SUMO TOURNAMENT! WHAT! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT! Talk about beginner’s luck! The next week I was all over the local news and papers and it’s become a talking point with my teachers and students and other locals. They’re thrilled that I tried sumo and maybe a bit frightened that I ended up winning my first time. I guess I’ll have to back up my championship next year!