My ice planet Hoth

So anyone who even vaguely knows me, knows how much I hate the cold. I think it must be the German blood. Even in summer I carry a warm top – just in case it gets cold. So on an average day in Japan I wear: Leggings, a vest, 2 pairs of socks, a long top, jersey, pants and a jacket – accessorised with a stick on Hokairo, and one in the pocket for extra measure. I would wear a scarf but I am verboten at school. I do have a Linus blankly though.

So when I initially agreed to come to the Arct…Asia, it was under the impression that Japan (being the high-tech country that it is) would be prepared for winter. It was only once I got here that I was told that there is nothing. They can handle an earthquake but apparently they haven’t quit conquered the annoying little hyperthermia problem.

So anywho, I was now faced with a summer of giant spiders and a winter of extreme cold and frostbite. And honestly I can’t decide which is worse so far.

This morning was particularly bad. I know this because I was cold under my pile of duvets and blankets. I could see my breath in my lounge – and that was after drinking coffee. I think this would have a lot to do with the fact that it was it was 8°C, inside, according to my aircon.

I really love the way that every heating device comes with a thermometer so you know exactly how much you are suffering and how ineffectual it actually is. And it is all very well having a heater in the living areas but where it really counts is the Frozen Throne that is the bathroom and toilet. I mean after all it is the one place where you remove the layers of protective thermal underwear. I am seriously considering that the risk value of “electrocution in return for warmth” may actually be worth it.

In fact 2 weeks ago I gave in and bought a kerosene heater. I was initially sceptical what with the dangers of flammable liquids, and not to mention the smell. But after receiving my electricity bill for the relatively (in retrospect) tolerable October, I decided that it might not be too bad. And it was worth it.

At first it was a bit like crawling into the stomach of a disembowelled tauntaun, but when it is as cold as it is here, and when you have my lower than average body temperature, you change your mind faster then the growing list in Tiger Wood’s little black book.

Oh and I forgot the best part. While I already have to defrost each morning, my teachers take great delight in informing me that it is really not to bad and it is only going to get worse – come February. I can’t help but think that they are trying to get rid of me.

I was particularly bitter this morning. Firstly, due to the fact that I woke up cold. Which is partly my own fault because after discovering that my heater was out of gas I was too lazy to go and fill it up. So I couldn’t set the timer so I could wake up toasty. And then despite the insane cold there was no snow. It would be the one compensation for the さむい (cold) torture from which I am suffering.

Then to my delight it started to snow! It was wonderful. Well it wasn’t real snow at first – just that initial icy stuff you get. But for an African I think it counts. It then later became more ‘snowy’ - if you could say that - with bigger flakes. Sadly it didn’t stick. It all seemed to melt as it hit the ground. Regardless it was enough keep me smiling for the rest of the day. Unfortunately for my 三年生 (3rd years) they are outside competing in their 3rd year sports day, while I get to stay in the (finally) heated staff room.

Hopefully it will continue to snow through the weekend when I can take advantage of the cold and keep warm whilst watching movies and drinking Milo… now that is hypothermia prevention.

My first sumo experience

Currently I am on my friend the Sonic on the way to Fukuoka. I is sumo weekend and the biggest sumo tournament in Kyushu. I have done some recon on event so it doesn't just look like 2 big guys running at each other. Though from what I have read it seems to be exactly that. But more on that once I have had some viewing experience.

…some time later…

So the entire weekend was fantastic. Sumo was much more fun than I had imagined. Fukuoka was lovely as usual and it was nice to sleep on a mattress again. Though let me start at the beginning.

I arrived in Fukuoka planning to check into my hotel and relax until I had to meet the rest at 13:00. Only the hotel refused to book me in until 3, leaving me with 2 hours to kill and not much enthusiasm to go to far. So after meandering aimlessly around the Hakata station shops I decided to treat myself to a manicure while I waited. And what is better than spending an hour being pampered. I went into a small salon under the station, and managed again after much charades and broken Japanese to explain what I wanted – a basic French manicure. From what I could gather this is not standard practice. Nail care here is an art. In fact they have “nail art” on the menu, and despite it not being my thing it is rather spectacular. There is nothing plain about the fake nails here. Each one is a tiny creation, consisting of diamante and other inlays to create a flash of glitter, colour and sparkle. When I first sat down and had to wait I was given a nail magazine to glance through (I wish South Africa could support the niche magazine industry that they have here) – it was the size of the special edition SA Cosmo. Consisting of pages and pages of the latest styles and techniques. Though, undoubtedly, my favourite article was the one on how to customise your nails to match your boots. And I am not talking to match black, brown or any colour. I am talking about the details such as pattern, style and details. So if you happen to be wearing pink lace up boots with purple details your nails should be pink with a lace up detail and of course some diamante for sparkle. Before I forget I must mention that no 2 nails are the same these are individually crafted and set into the gel – as far as I can tell – and not just plucked on.
I watched the woman next to me having her pink glitter creations removed. The manicurist had to file down the whole nail and remove the diamante implants with clippers. It was like watching someone trying to sand down tarmac. I have enough issues with filing my nails to have to sit through that.

It was an experience and I have to say she did a spectacular job with my nails. They feel like art works and I am loath to remove the varnish. Oh and the highlight was when she put on some cuticle oil from South Africa – you can find home in the strangest of places.

After my 1 hour of pampering it was time for sumo. There were matches throughout the day starting with high school and lower level wrestlers, building up to the big matches at the end of the day. When we got to the stadium we waited out side a bit to watch the wrestlers go inside. There men are huge, and I am not talking about fat - tall and built. SA would do well to employ some on our rugby team as there bodies are built to take the impact of their equally massive opponent rushing towards them. In fact I would like to suggest that sumo become part of the training regime for SA rugby, especially since that embarrassing loss to the frog eaters.

Before I start on the actually matches I would like to clarify one thing. Sumo wrestlers are not just the fat kids from school that needed a hobby. These guys are amazing athletes and they are not just fat. Underneath all the exterior skin is muscle. Granted some of them, okay most of them, have huge stomachs but the power behind them is not just the result of too much sake and rice. But when you watch these guys pound into each other – and there is almost a metric ton of force generated in doing so – their bodies just absorb the impact. There is not perpetual fat motion to be seen. In fact sumo is seen as a solution to combating obesity in children. Becoming a sumo wrestler requires a strict diet and parents of future stars are encouraged not to let them over eat. The training and diet turns excess body fat into muscle and many kids that start sumo lose weight as they progress. Regardless of this, I still don’t think that McDonalds is the best sponsor for sumo – and yes one of the top wrestlers has a McDonalds endorsement.

If you ever do get the chance to watch sumo it really helps to have someone with you who knows what is going on and can explain. As I mentioned before we had Yellie, a passionate sumo lover who was able to answer all our questions and give us all the details on the wrestlers. Each match is over pretty quickly. They take less than 30 seconds most of the time. Though we were treated, in the very last match between 2 tournament favourites, to one that seemed to last for ages. Most of the match is the purifying of the ring. Sumo has strong Shinto roots and before the match can begin the wrestlers stamp their feet and through salt to purify the ring and drive away evil spirits. Once they are ready to fight they have to get their breathing synchronised. This is considered essential in sumo tradition though many other foreign countries are becoming less and less concerned with the traditions – a matter of some contestation. After this the match is pretty much over in seconds. The aim is to get your opponent to step out of the ring or place some other part of their body (asides from the souls of the feet) onto the floor. Technique comes into play when you have to receive the impact of your opponent and then find a way to force him out of the ring or onto the floor. This can result in some pretty spectacular throws and more than once I was glad I did not have ringside seats as these huge men were flipped into the audience.

Sumo is becoming more and more international. Currently the top wrestlers are from Mongolia, and there hasn’t been a Japanese champion since the late 90’s. Many of the (go figure) ex-communist countries also compete and we watched a guy from Bulgaria beat one of the top 2 fighters. It has also become a Olympic sport, and so to comply to regulations women are also allowed to compete. Though they are (also) mainly Russians. However Shinto tradition does not allow for women to enter the ring otherwise they will destroy the purity and so they are only allowed to compete in certain places, and certainly not the most scared of Sumo halls. Apparently last year some woman tried to storm the ring and had to be taken down by one of the wrestlers.

The only annoyance was this Japanese hippy that complained that we were all making too much noise – I mean honestly who talks and gets excited at a sports event – and complained to the ushers instead of just moving to one of the hundreds of empty seats. I some times do not understand the Japanese. On the way back on the train I was placed next to a woman that chose to sit rather in one of the many empty seats on the car but still place her luggage right in front of her seat so as to make my life difficult.

After sumo it was just dinner and back to the hotel for the best night’s sleep I have had in a long time. I need to buy a mattress. I can handle the futon and I am quite used to it but I do miss the comfort of wire springs.

On Sunday, Ann and I headed to a flea market at on of the local shrines. I wish I had had more money and more knowledge of Japanese antiques. There must have been masses of treasures there. Some of the other ALTs found beautiful old Obos and kimonos. Flea markets tend to be the same regardless of where you go in the world but this really was wonderful – with almost everything being antiques (including classic Snoopy telephones) and odds and ends. No hippies in site and only one Serbian guy selling the usually silver jewelry. All bought, besides a bean paste fish, was a hand made wooden puzzle of a 5-story pagoda. Though, there was some really nice art from WW2 that, if I had the money, I would have liked to come home with.

Catch some of my pics here.