Sumo Smackdown

     Sumo fans are used to the rough and tumble, unlike coddled Tokyo American Club members who came for a genteel lecture on the sport and found themselves in the midst of a slanging match. Gaijin guest, a couch potato sumo, arrived early with his okusan (wife) and nihon publishers. The Library Committee welcomed 20 to the event, including omnipresent TAC president (think: Obama). Reading from The Joy of Sumo, Mr. Benjamin invited the audience to interrupt with questions as they arose. A smug looking woman (think: Lily Tomlin) was pleased to raise her hand.   

    "Why on page 99 do you refer to the grandfather of the yokuzuna (highest rank sumo), yet 10 pages later you call the same man uncle? Please explain the incest here?" she posed, licking her lips. Sososo,  Benjamin acknowledged the mistake. When asked which part of Japan produces the most wrestlers, the author answered that they come from villages at extreme ends of the country. Smug lady piped up: "Then how do explain that three of the all-time top sumo hail from Tokyo?" She cited names and dates. Sosososo, Benjamin admitted that except for a few Tokyoites, most hail from the hinterlands. After she further reduced our joy in  his book, the author asked: "Could you please give us your name?" Ms X! "Friends, please meet my greatest critic, Ms X, the author of a competing book on the subject. She has been hounding me ever since my book was published 20 years ago." Perhaps Ms X might allow Mr. Benjamin to continue and offer her own lecture in future? I suggested. "Ha! Her book is out of print while mine lives on after 20 years!" spluttered Mr. Benjamin to Ms X's dismay.

     Much like a sumo match (a few minutes of posturing ending with a shove that bounces one roly-poly combatant out of the ring) our evening came to an abrupt halt. "Charlatan!" shouted Ms X, snapping the stem from her wine glass. A Library Committee colleague (and a practitioner of Israeli self-defense) invited Ms X to leave the premises and allow the rest of us to enjoy the rest of the evening. As a members only event, who brought her? The nihon publishers were forced to admit that they did: "She is a reporter for a sumo publication." Unlike past author events when guests mingle and the author signs books, the room emptied out as if for a fire drill. "Rich people don't like to spend money," opined Mr. Benjamin to his hostess. "I'd love to come back another time since we come once a year to visit my in-laws."  Final lesson about sumo: Bow to the victor.

Carnations for Haha (Mothers Day)

     My very first Mothers Day in Japan, what a shock to receive a bouquet of.... red carnations. Where I grew up (the Upper West Side of Manhattan) carnations are distributed in green for St Patrick's Day, pink for Easter and various colors in jars at downscale eateries. On occasion a carnation is appropriate on the lapel but this is not the flower commensurate with the effort of labor, childbirth etc. Marking my fourth Haha no Hi (Mothers Day), I stand corrected: Red carnations are both takai (expensive) and the correct flower of the day for Haha (mom). Musume-chan (daughter) presented me with a poodle-shaped artificial red carnation and a pair of fishnet tights. Kawaii! (Adorable!) How thoughtful that shujin provided the ikebana vase perfect for one stem.

     Since musume-chan had to study for IB (international baccalaureate) exams, shujin (hubby) agreed to an outing to Oi Wild Bird Park next to Haneda Airport (the local La Guardia). Binoculars and hats in the backpack, off on the Monorail to Ryutsu Center on this early summer day. A Y 300 ticket gained entry into a well-tended park with three ponds full of heron (ao sagi), egrets (ko sagi), cormorants (kawau) and plovers (ko chidori). Viewing stations included astronomer-strength telescopes allowing visitors to peer into the eyes of the egrets as they swallowed lunch. A birder tapped me on the shoulder to point out a ko same bitaki (flycatcher).

     Hopefully within the Imperial Palace Masako-sama enjoyed the day with her musume-chan, young Aiko who is having issues with third grade. Rumor mongers say that with all his family problems the Crown Prince should cede his position to his younger brother. At Oi Wild Bird Park 8 year old girls wove clover chains with their mothers, and took photos with grandmas under parasols without a care in the world. Was anyone beside the mother of the author thinking about Sumo, A Thinking Fan's Guide to the National Sport?  Certainly, author David Benjamin will understand if the room at the Tokyo American Club is half empty when he comes to speak in 10 days.
  

The Burden of Praise

    Most Thursday afternoons at the Tokyo American Club Nakamura-sensei shares the secrets of shodo (calligraphy) with six to eight disciples. In orange ink she produces a sample for each student to reproduce in black sumie. Not exactly handwriting practice, shodo is a meditation. Rumor has it that Sensei is nana-go-sai (75ish), despite her dark curly tresses and smooth complexion. Thanks to Mr. Nakamura, a novelist who spent his early career as an executive with JAL (Japan Air), Sensei spent much of her early marriage in Germany. As a result she shops at Marina Rinaldi and favors Ferragamo flats.

   "What do you say when a nihonjin gives you a compliment?" I posed to the gaijin (foreign) classmates as we were grinding sumie on inkstones. "Such as when someone says you speak Japanese well?" (Our francejin, Mme G, out of town this week, was sorely missed.) "I always say Arigatou gozaimasu (thank you very much)!" replied one amerikajin. "Sumimassen, the better answer is mada mada (not yet) or tondemonai desu (don't be silly)," I said, repeating what  I found in a book about colloquial nihongo. Accepting praise is presumptuous in a country that knows that there is always room for improvement.  Every classmate jotted down these two phrases.

    By the end of the class each student replied mada-mada or tondemonai when Nakamura-sensei praised her work. "Tee-hee," holding her hand in front of her face, Nakamura-sensei scolded me and asked that I bring different words to class next time. "If all the students were nihonjin this is exactly how they would react," whispered tomodachi. After the class a quick stop at the TAC Library to check on how many members signed up for our upcoming Meet the Author lecture on Sumo revealed shocking news. Two years ago our visitor Alice and I savored an afternoon at crowded Sumo central in Ryogoku, seated uncomfortably on the tatami mat at Y 10,000 apiece (about $120). Only five people have signed up! With just two weeks until our guest speaker arrives, time to get into high gear to fill  the other 40 seats.