We got up at 4am, washed, threw on clothes, and dashed out of the door. We "rushed" (though ed refused to travel faster than a brisk walk) to the station arriving just in time. The train wasn't there. Apparently there was no train at 4.36 after all, but there would be one in 5 minutes. Fine. Waiting on the platform I heard a near constant jingle of the cheery music that plays when a ticket is used and a gate opens.
At least 30 people were on these platforms. Ed suggested that they might be returning party goers on the first train back, but many wore suits and I don't think Ueno is the right place for that anyway. We hopped on the train and sat down. Various suited and casual passengers sat around us in silence. Opposite us a woman filed her nails and held a conversation with her friend. They had camera bags.
We squeezed through an alley with haphazardly parked cars and vans. Three wheeled vehicles with a standing driver at the front and a platform no larger than a desk behind filled the streets. The platforms were empty but would surely be carrying crates of fish later. A few confused looking tourists were spaced intermittently. I stopped one to ask one where the reservation office is but she said that reservations were now sold out. When confirming with a security guard, he informed us that tourists started arriving at 3 this morning to get tickets, and they were gone by 4.15. We could have never made it today.
Very disappointed, we investigated the outer market. Wooden stands displayed fruit, bags of spices and bonito flakes, kitchen utensils, sushi knives, and of course the smaller fish.
I suggested we revise the plan I had constructed the day before. If we go to the sumo today, after some sushi breakfast, we can return to Tsukiji in 2 days. We stopped in at a sushi restaurant that looked decent and not too busy. Sitting at the bar I watched the chefs work their craft.
The second chef took some rice in his right hand and rolled it in circles, compressing and discarding the excess grains while simultaneously selecting a piece of pre-sliced fish with his left hand. With the rice held in the palm of his right hand, he used his right index finger to scoop a smudge of wasabi and smeared it on the underside of the fish. He placed his palms together and gave a quick shake, aligning the rice and fish. Finally he rotated and gently compressed the sushi a few times at 90 degree angles to ensure it forms one piece. The whole process took under ten seconds, and he looked entirely casual almost as if daydreaming.
Meanwhile the head chef reached his arm into a tank full of eel, lobsters, and various fish and tried to retrieve a small white prawn-like creature. It shied away. "Kowaii, kowaii", he said: "it's scared".
Ed ordered the breakfast set which looked good and had great variety.
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| mmmm.. omelette sushi. |
I ordered the only set offering 'blue fin tuna' which also came with salmon and mackerel. Though I lamented the relative lack of variety, I was confident that the specificity of the label 'blue fin' would pay off. I was not wrong. The salmon and mackerel were good but the tuna was incredible. Silky smooth of texture and sweet of taste with a hint of zest from the garlic. I had made the right choice (which I know because Ed got fed up of wasabi and gave me the last of his.) It may not look as impressive, but the taste was astounding.
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| The rice was hidden underneath. |
Afterwards we caught the subway to the Ryogoku Kokugikan (where the sumo tournament is held), passing by the Tokyo-Edo museum and what looked like a statue of a wizard standing on a turtle.
Our numbers were handed out as specified at 7.40. #69 and #70. Great. At 8am a drummer started playing at the top of the tower beside us to mark the opening of the day's sumo. It was not a taiko, something a little smaller. We bought our tickets and decided not to go in just yet. Bouts started at 10.50 and we needed to get some money out first. So we went in search of a post office. It was inside a hotel, but it was closed until 9 so we sat in the cafe with our grossly over-priced drinks for a while. When it was nearly 9 we returned and the armour clad officer responsible for opening up tried to convey that the ATM was out of order. Things were just not going to plan today. We for asked about alternatives at reception and headed off to a seven eleven.
On the way back to the Ryogoku Kokugikan we stopped briefly at another park. There was a shrine, water, trees. The parks here are always rather pretty. Ed wandered around taking photos while I relaxed on a bench. After a little while we see off again passing through the rest of the park and I noticed a flower bed with a door nested inside it. When I asked Ed what was inside he said it looked locked. I asked how it was possible for a door to 'look locked', asking further if he meant that it looked closed and he assumed this meant that it was locked. Ed is getting fed up with what he considers to be my pedantry. For my part, I simply don't like making assumptions and would rather clarify if he had any additional information. I love exploring, and know that in his position I would have always tried a locked door. We're both tired though and less tolerant than usual.
We got back to the Ryogoku Kokugikan and still ended up rather early for the sumo. The first bout was at 10.50 and that was between the jonokuchi, the lowest rank. The hall must have had only a couple hundred audience members at the time. I guess most people are only interested in the elite.
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| The main hall of the Ryogoku Kokugikan |
While they struggle to throw, push and lift each other the 'referee' in the coloured robes calls out rhythmically; presumably to make the event more exciting, Which it does. Each new referee has a different signature call. When one wrestler loses, both wrestlers and the referee return to their starting positions and all bow to each other. The loser walks away and the winner bends low once more and draws the kanji for 'money' (which he has now won) with his open palm in the air.
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| Spot the odd one out :) |
The rules of the bout are very simple. Don't touch the floor with anything above your feet. Don't step out of the ring. That's it. They're not allowed to punch either, but there's plenty of jabbing palms into the face. They also aren't allowed to grab the belt near the 'personal region' or anything other dirty tactics. In its original form sumo was a religious ritual and did in fact permit striking (it was pretty much anything goes).
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| See how the judge on the left looks afraid? He should be. |
To be perfectly honest I was not hugely enthralled by the sumo. But then, I've never been particularly interested in watching sport. I've effectively played this game plenty of times during classes at kixx martial arts, and I would much rather play it than watch it. Don't get me wrong, it is exciting to watch, but a whole day of sumo is far too much for me to avoid boredom. If I were to go again I would buy the ticket and then only show up for the final 20 fights or so, like most people did.
The wrestlers themselves are all obese, of course, though they have considerable muscle too and are very strong. They must struggle with health problems later in life, though, and it makes me wonder if the original sumo wrestlers were obese. I suspect they were not. They were warriors by trade so they would have needed to be able to run, not just push. Of course when arbitrary rules are introduced into a sport which pays money, participants will inevitably customize themselves to maximize their advantage within those rules. And this, I suspect, is what happened when sumo was popularised during the Tokugawa shogunate about 350 years ago.
I took a break for lunch in the restaurant inside the Ryoko Gokugikan. A wide range of sushi and syabusyabu style dishes were one offer. I selected a dish called the 'whale set'. I consider that ordering this food constitutes a minor ethical dilemma. On the one hand, I probably shouldn't be contributing to the economy of farming an endangered species. On the other hand I consider it my duty (and quite often my wish) to try as many different things (not just foods) as I can, for it is necessary to broaden one's base of experience in order to broaden one's mind. A broader mind is capable of broader understanding and thus has a greater capacity for empathy. In that sense, I could argue that it's my moral duty to eat the whale, although you could counter that it's a one sided argument because its problematic for me to try being eaten as well. You, the clever and objective reader, will no doubt consider this to be a rationalisation designed to permit me to do as I wish without experiencing guilt. And perhaps it is. But even if it is, that doesn't mean the logic is faulty. Feel free to decide upon my ulterior motives as you please. So I ate the whale. This is what it looked like just before I ate it:
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| Left: tasted like a cross between tuna and beef. Right: tasted kind of like bacon really. |
It was pretty good.That's probably not a good enough argument to support whale hunting though (whale farming, on the other hand, is a completely different argument. If we farmed them they definitely wouldn't go extinct!).
I returned to the main hall, beers in hand, and ed and I placed bets on which wrestler would win each bout, basing opinions on arbitrary things like 'apparent flexibility' or who 'looks like they want it more'. At 3pm the Juryo (lowest ranking full professional) wrestlers turned up and stood in a circle wearing their respective colours. When they fought, the Juryos were clearly a step up. During one of the matches a wrestler was thrown off the north face of the platform and landed directly on one of the four judges. He was a bit dazed but he seemed okay after a few minutes.
The formula changed a little with the higher ranks. After the warm up, the would throw a handful of salt into the ring, as a symbolic purifying act. They do this, then line up, then throw more salt, many times before actually beginning. By 4pm the Ryogoku Kokugikan was quite full, and crowds were cheering on their favourite competitors.
By about 5pm we got extremely tired and a bit bored so we left. When we changed at Akihabara, Ed and I decided to go for a wander before heading back. Though I was tired, the energy of the bustling streets infused me and I was excited to investigate all the bright lights. Akihabara electric town looks mostly like this:
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| Anime characters everywhere! |
For those who don't know, Akihabara is famous as an 'electric town' and is comprised almost exclusively of game/dvd shops, anime/comic shops, arcades, and cafes/restaurants. The theme of the entire town, however, is the manga subculture. I know that some people have various preconceptions about both the electric town itself and the manga subculture, and I want to adress that here. The subculture is one mostly drawn from manga, anime, and games, and people, to varying extents, incorporate elements of these references into their lives. Some simply buy keychains and nice things to hang from their bags and purses. At the other extreme are the 'otaku' who spend all their time playing games and watching anime to the point that it's difficult for them to conceptualise that humans and anime characters might behave differently. But to characterise Akihabara, and the associated subculture, by either of these extremes is rather unfair. Akihabara is about one thing: fun!
The negative preconceptions I have heard generally revolve around two major themes: the sexualisation of women/girls, and addictive behaviour (particularly to games).
To answer the first point: it's true that if you open your eyes in Akihabara you will be looking at something anime, and the majority of the characters have highly exaggerated features. Many of the female characters are portrayed scantily clad or in suggestive positions. All of these are fair points. But an integral characteristic of anime is that appearances are idealised. It's not just the female characters which are exaggerated, and that's what the customers want to purchase. In just the same way, it is not purely acting talent alone that makes Scarlett Johanssen famous. As for the more explicit material, if you want to find adult themed versions of such characters you most certainly can. You always, however, have to go looking for it down an alley or on the top floor of a building and entry is denied to under 18s.
With regards to the actual people, a great many women around Akihabara dress up in cos-play (costumes of anime characters) and most of them are handing out leaflets or inviting you into a store. However, from my experience their dress code is almost always less provocative than the outfits of many ordinary Tokyoites, and they're definitely less provocative than the outfits of many English women on a Friday night. At any rate most of the women in Akihabara are there to shop for cuddly toys, or play in the arcades.
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| 'Maids', and a creepy doll, waving out of a balcony in Akihabara |
Now to address the second criticism. It's probably fair to say that it's not too healthy to spend all your time in a darkened room with high pitched music jingling at close to 90 decibels. It's likely that playing sports outside in the sun with your friends is better for your body and your mind, especially if you're young and growing. At the same time, however, the people that do spend a lot of time in these places are a little bit geeky and that's what geeks like doing. If they weren't here, they'd probably be at home playing on their own. Additionally the arcades stipulate that customers under 16 years of age may not enter after 6pm and customers under 18 may not enter after 10pm. I suspect the curfew is legally enforced, but whatever the reason it's a pretty good idea.
I'm not defending the overt sexualisation which sometimes appears in anime, or the behaviour of teenagers who waste away playing video games, nor am I condemning the sub-culture because of these aspects. I'm simply pointing out that Akihabara is a place where people go to forget their stress and do silly things, like dress up, sing karaoke, and hang out with friends.
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| Friends enjoying some drinks and a game of darts. I swear they're not paid actors! |
As I said, Akihabara is about fun. And it is fun! I had a great time playing an old fashioned side scrolling space shooter on a dual 40inch screen with a kick ass sound system, and singing karaoke in a booth.
To prove the point I visited one of Akihabara's legendary maid cafe's. For those who don't know, a maid cafe is a place where the waitresses are dressed like maids but with a kind of anime flair, and generally act 'kawaii'. I had always thought that 'kawaii' meant 'cute' in English, since that's how it's translated in anime's, but that translation does no justice at all, as I was about to find out.
Some of the maids stand around on the street in costume handing out leaflets. Their voices are shrill and piercing, and their actions are exaggerated. When they wave it is deliberate and accentuated, and they carry a permanent smile. Inside the cafe the white walls are covered with red and pink curtains and heart-shaped decorations. Soft toys lay piled in a corner, and a small stage is beside the bar. The tables are aligned in long rows forcing customers to sit beside each other and be sociable. I was directed to the end of one row and sat next to a young Japanese man.
The maid asked me if I knew the system, and when I said no she fetched a piece of paper with English sentences written on it and placed it on the table in front of me. It explained that the maximum stay was 2 hours, 1000 yen buys a seat at the table, and the minimum number of orders was 2. Savvy business model, I thought. Fine. The maid introduced herself, "my name is Ran, please call me by my name". Instinctively I gave her my name and extended my hand. She extended hers but did not touch me and shook her hand up and down playfully, as if shaking hands with the air. Ah that makes sense, they probably never touch customers. I'm sure they get some strange people from time to time.
Ran produced a small red fake candle and placed it on the table top. She crouched down beside it and told me to count with her from 3 to 1. I did as instructed and then she blew on the candle and nothing happened. She fixed it. We repeated the process and it magically lit up. I guess it might have been a little more impressive had it worked straight off. Anyway I ordered a beer and got chatting with the young Japanese man, Tatsuya, and his girlfriend Mikoshi. He was eager to practice his English, and I was glad to talk to someone if only to bring some normalcy to the madness around me.
When Ran brought my beer she insisted that I copy her. "Moy Moy Kyu", she squeaked, creating a heart symbol with her hands as she spoke. I did as commanded and she let me alone with my beer. I asked Tatsuya what it means. He laughed and told me "it means nothing, it has no meaning".
Eventually Tatsuya and Mikoshi had to leave and, electing to forgo one of the ridiculous looking bear-faced cream deserts, I ordered a coffee. I couldn't remember which maid was Ran. Not that the maids looked particularly similar, but she made no special impression on me and they were all dressed broadly the same. Instead I got Anju, who also insisted I call her by her name, and who I also immediately forgot.
I didn't get to see any maids perform songs because neither I nor any of the other customers 'purchased' any. I think that's how it works, anyway, because a few set meals had a maid's face next to them, though I may have misunderstood. I was not unhappy to leave before my allotted two hours, mostly because the ultra high pitched voices simply became too repellent. But I left feeling as though I had dispelled, in my mind, some myths and mystery about the legendary 'maid cafe'. Under the ultra kawaii veneer the maids are cool and professional. It's also clear, however, that the whole point of a maid cafe is to let go, have fun, and not be afraid to be a bit silly; which is exactly what Akihabara seems to be about.
It was a long day, and I have another early morning. Tomorrow we plan to ambush the Sanja Matsuri festival before it starts at 6am!
Thanks for reading to the end!
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