I found out, a little late, on the local chat forum here that the annual trek to Osaka would be happening in order to catch a Sumo tournament. A group of us decided to drive the distance in order to watch portly men tussle with one another while wearing a uniform that closely resembled a thong. But more about that later.
We woke up at the decent hour of 3am and were off by 3:30. Surprisingly, none of us fell asleep during the 3 hour drive to Osaka. After passing by the actual building where the tickets were being sold and then getting lost for 40 minutes, we eventually made our way back to where we had already been and got our free-seating tickets.
A group of us then ventured to the fabled "Spa World". Basically a fancy, multiple pool onsen which features massages and a waterpark on the very top floor. Onsen floors are divided according to sex. Men on one and women on the other. On our floor they had a nifty "relaxation room" where you could don an alluring pink shift, wrap a bright orange towel around your wet hair and lie down on a reclining chair. Then, because you're so relaxed from the entire hot onsen pool experience, you inevitably fall asleep. One of the stranger experiences of this onsen is sitting with your friends around a table in a cafe, drinking water and chatting. Strange because the group of you are in nothing but your birthday suits, as are the other customers in the room.
Back to sumo. We meandered back, skin suitably reddened from the onsen, took our seats, and hunkered down to watch some Japanese wrestling. Sumo wrestlers go through a series of ceremonial motions that last longer than the actual bout. It includes the famous(?) lifting/stretching of the legs and sprinkling salt in the ring to purify it. The two opponents then face each other, posed to fight, then back off. This happens about three times before they actually fight. Apparently during these numerous face-offs, one opponent will occasionally "psych-out" the other. You can tell this has happened when the audience cheers and claps. I personally had absolutely no idea when the psych-outs happened or who was the psycher and who was the psychee. It was explained to me that only the Japanese can tell.
One of the more interesting displays during the afternoon was watching the yokozuna, or top-ranked wrestler, perform a traditional ceremonial dance/series of movements. (It looked like a dance to me) It's as an elaborate a display as any you'll see. In the picture, the middle wrestler is the yokozuna.
We watched until the last match where the yokozuna fought. It was the one all the audience had been waiting for and I would say that it delivered on expectations. Obviously, I had none, being a first time viewer. I would recommend that any visitor to Japan try to catch a match.
The advent of spring brings all sorts of nice and happy things with it. Flowers, green grass, leaves on trees, frolicking animals... One of the happiest of spring things is POLLEN. Yes, it's that time of year when trees and plants are budding and sending their 'dust' out into the open air. And, consequently, right up my nose. It doesn't matter which country I'm in or what the vegetation, I get hayfever like clockwork.On Thursday night I realized it must truly be spring because I was having sneezing fits. Meaning I'd sneeze about 5-6 times in succession and then be left with the wild desire to rip off my nose. This charming display continued into the next day by the end of which I sounded as if I'd never learned to pronounce words properly. Not that anyone could really understand since I'd interrupt myself in order to make room for a sneezing fit.I remembered to bring some allergy medication with me but the directions warn of taking more than one pill a day. So, once I've taken that one, and experienced the rather brief relief of it, I stare sullenly at the box pretty much waiting until I can take the next one. I also stare sullenly at people who don't suffer from this affliction. Namely my fiance. In addition to my angry looks, he's also privy to my constant carping and complaining about how bad I feel (and this on top of constant oh-so-seductive nose-blowing and coughing). He has a rocking good time.And that's the end. Cheers all.
It's the return of the sporadic blogger! What will she do this time?
This morning, as I was getting breakfast together for myself, I took out the jam from the fridge. Upon opening said jar I noticed a slight, shall we say, discoloration on the top of it. There were 2 spots of discoloration to be precise. The jam was starting to mold. I've never encountered moldy jam before. And back home we keep the jam in the fridge FOREVER. I don't know if the ingredients of jam are different here or if our fridge just plain sucks. Probably the latter. Yuck.
On a completely different note, I thought I'd write about the interior decoration of cars here in Japan. Since I drive so bloody much and could probably now make my way to the city blindfolded, I look at the cars around me while enroute. The interior of my car is starkly bare. Particularly since the ceiling was stripped of its lining and now only has bits of gluey sponge dotting it. However other cars see no need to always be in their birthday suits. Some cars are lined with Pooh Bears, and I mean LINED. They clamour on the dashboard, they crowd the back windows, and sometimes they wave cheerfully from the seatbelts. Other cars have Hello Kitty similarly vying for space. And still others have, well, it looks like they killed a goat and laid its fur across the dashboard.
For cars with a manual transmission, the stick has sometimes been altered. They take the conventional black knob with the numbers off and replace it with this funky, psychedelic, iridescently clear plastic...shaft. It's really quite attractive and makes me wish I had one for my car. While some drivers have to reach down for the gear shift, other drivers have solved that annoying need by putting so many attachments onto the stick that the thing now is level with their shoulders. I don't know if that might make the ride a little more dangerous or not.
I will write again whenever I see something of interest.
