Thursday, December 2, 2010

Japan's mating dance (I think)

It's funny how much your desire to write blog posts dwindles when threatened with impending war. I got home from church tonight with the intention of "quickly" writing this out and heading to bed early for a change. Unfortunately, it's been over half an hour, and I still don't feel like typing. I was so excited when I got back from Japan to tell everyone my crazy stories, but they totally slid to the back burner in exchange for updating my google newsfeed every three seconds to find out if North Korea's finally snapped. I have a friend in the Army here, and I've been sending him incessant messages asking if I'm going to die (he assures me that I'm not). Thus, it's been a week and a half, and you still haven't heard the conclusion of my whirlwind weekend in Japan. I'm rectifying this problem right now.

After Fukuoka Tower, I headed back to the hostel to call it a night. When I got back to my room, the other three beds were already filled with snoozing girls I never got a chance to meet, so I snuck in, changed into my sweatpants, and headed to the living room to hang out with the guys. I had met a guy from New Zealand when I dropped off my stuff earlier in the day, so I tracked him down and made him talk to me. Within just a few minutes, though, all the testosterone-driven beings in the place had recognized the sound of a female's voice and congregated in the living room. They took turns telling me HILARIOUS stories of their travels, and I think I read maybe a paragraph of the book I had brought to entertain myself. None of them had been to Korea, so I became the resident expert, filling them in on couples outfits, noraebangs, and kimchi.

One of the guys, a German dude who worked at Abercrombie and Fitch, definitely won the award for most adorable. His English wasn't great, so he'd occasionally start mumbling in German, trying to remember the word he wanted, or he'd just say it in Spanish or Japanese because - that's right - he spoke four languages. And I literally almost fell off the couch I was laughing so hard when he described the interview process for A&F. (This may not be as funny when not told in a German accent, so I apologize in advance... better yet, read the following with a German accent in your head.) He said that someone had told the Japanese management that in America, A&F pays guys to stand in boxers at the doorway and greet the customers. Something got lost in translation with the greeting, though, and they were all required to point two imaginary guns while saying "What's going on?" Apparently this is nearly impossible for Japanese men to master (they must be terribly uncoordinated or something), so my German friend was hired above all the others. He told some fantastic stories about working for Abercrombie in Japan, and his accent certainly didn't hurt my attention span.

After about an hour and a half, the guys decided they wanted to go out to a club. Although they invited me, that was my cue to sneak off to bed. The bed might have been my favorite thing about the whole trip. My bed in Korea is horrendous. I literally had bruises on my hips the first two weeks I was here because the darn thing is like concrete, but the bed in Japan was like a cloud. I could have slept there all day Sunday - but that would have been kind of lame, don't you think?

When I woke up in the morning, the other girls in my room had already left, but I could hear my new guy friends in the room beside mine. When I finally managed to pull myself out of bed, I walked a whole two steps down the hall and started stealing snacks. The room smelled terribly like sweaty guys, but it didn't phase me. I don't have a lot of guy friends in Korea, and that kind of drives me crazy. I've always been the type of girl that just made friends with guys easier than with girls, so I sometimes have a hard time with the fact that the only males I see in a given week are my two coworkers. I miss lewd jokes and never-ending junk food and the sometimes awkward homosexual tendencies (why do you men all like to snuggle with each other so much?). A guy from Georgia wandered in shortly after I arrived and promptly asked me to marry him. I politely declined, but he wasn't deterred. He referred to me as his fiancee the rest of the conversation, and when he got up to leave, he said, "Wife! We're taking a shower! Let's go!" I smiled and said, "No, thank you." He shook his head and said something about divorcing me before he left.

Having accomplished my goal of finding Harry Potter, I had planned to just wander around for the rest of the day - that is, until the New Zealand boy asked if I had heard about the Sumo-Wrestling Tournament. I had, in fact, done some research, and had been heartbroken when the website said all the tickets were sold out. NZ told me that they sold nose-bleed tickets day-of, and I should try to score one. That was all I needed to hear; I grabbed my bag, left my key on the counter, and said goodbye to my favorite little hostel.

Have you ever seen Sumo before? I hadn't. Of course, I knew it involved fat guys in diapers, but really that was the extent of my knowledge. Oh boy was I in for a treat. The ticket was just a little more than the movie ticket had been, and I was pretty far away from the action. I considered quite a few times moving right up to the front and just acting like a dumb foreigner when confronted, but the expensive seats weren't actually seats at all. Only the very top rows had chairs; the rest of the room was filled with mats like you'd find in an elementary school gym.

The tournament had already started when I arrived, so the fighting was already in action. I kind of pictured Sumo to be like an overweight version of WWF wrestling, but friends, it is not. I could try to walk you through it, but I think you'd enjoy it more if I just showed you a video.

Forget the German guy - this had to have been the sexiest thing I saw the whole weekend. I've decided that that beginning part, the part where they kick one leg into the air then smack their own asses, is going to be how I secure my next boyfriend.

I watched the tournament for about two and a half hours before deciding it was time to move on. Watching mostly-naked, obese Japanese men smack into each other is fun for a shockingly short amount of time.

On my way back to the subway, I swung through a few Buddhist temples. I'm positive that I'm the only person I know who has ever seen the biggest hand-carved wooden statue of Buddha in the world, so, um, kudos to me. Here's a picture so you don't feel left out.

It was easy to find, as they had labeled it with this:

I visited a few other temples on my way out and took a bunch of pictures of incredibly random things, but this is where I'm stopping this post. I recognize that that was probably the least satisfactory conclusion ever, but I'm extra lazy tonight and just want to eat M&M's and watch Modern Family. Sayonara (which is actually pronounced "si-YO-na-ra" not "si-oh-NAR-ah" like I always thought)!!

1 comment:

  1. Why do the Sumos squat so much? Do you think their man thongs hurt when they do that? Did you notice the big one adjusting his crotch? Also that poor small Sumo...I thought he'd get owned! But he did pretty well for himself. If that had been me I would have run away screaming and crying. These are the end of my thoughts.