13th March 2019. It was Day 4 of the Grand Sumo Tournament 大相撲 in Osaka. I finally made it here, hopeful and excited to catch the live action of the sumo wrestlers. Sumo is the traditional sport of Japan, steeped in deep, ancient history and Shinto beliefs. This fascination with the sport propelled my desire to read more about it. I have never seen so much discipline and rigor woven into a sport, its nature embedded in Shintoism, and the routines and lifestyles determined by their masters in charge of the beya 部谷 (sumo stable) where they train at most of the time. They streamed in one after another, clad in their yukata and geta. Their large girth, a grand presence. I admit that I was initially intimidated by their seriousness and stature. (Actually, I still am but now, I have grown this mad respect for them.) They entered the gymnasium, bowed and greeted the staff before registering at the reception table. The ring-entering ceremony began with their names introduced by a Shinto priest, an essential ritual before the start of any bout. They made their way up to the dohyo, an elevated ring composed of cement and clay with a roof typical of a Shinto shrine, protecting those in and around it. The dohyo is thus the most sacred space in the entire gymnasium. In all honesty, it wasn’t comfortable watching at the beginning. I sat right in front of the dohyo to witness the first round of bouts between the relatively younger and less experienced sumo wrestlers. Their career in sumo wrestling lies in their overall ranking, whether they get promoted or demoted depends on their performance at the grand tournaments. This also means that they are often under tremendous pressure to better themselves, defeat their opponents and to create a name for themselves in this arena of competitive sport. I will refer to them as rikishi 力士 from now, literally translated as men who have strength (its meaning derived from the kanji ‘力’) and are well-respected (from the kanji ‘士’). Being a rikishi meant that they have a certain set of societal and cultural expectations to live up to. As a result, they bear extremely heavy responsibilities that we do not know much about. Their attitudes, behaviors and even their lifestyles are bound by strict routines and discipline with great emphasis on self-control and how they portray themselves in public. Sitting in a row facing the dohyo on both sides, they awaited their turn. Their legs were crossed together with their mawashi 回し (loincloth) tightly secured around their waists, a crucial possession during a wrestle. If it comes undone during a bout, he is immediately disqualified. A couple of them had parts of their limbs neatly plastered, ankle and knee guards safely in place to prevent further injury or provide a brief respite from the lingering pain that they had endured from their rigorous trainings. Throughout several bouts of strategic body twists and intense contact, I saw a couple of them lost their balance and fell from the dohyo, landing on the canvas at full force. They picked themselves up, re-entered the ring in order to give each other another bow before taking their leave. Slowly, silently and respectfully. Some left the dohyo cradling their elbows and circling their shoulders in agony, their scrunched-up faces evident of the pain sustained from their battles. Every sumo bout is a battle of strength and strategies. It was a sight that I did not prepare myself to see and I doubt I will ever forget these scenes. We cheer for the victor, as though the one who lost does not have feelings. We watch it as a sport for entertainment, as though we are watching an action movie. We cheer for the top-ranked yokozuna, grand champions, like superstars in the world of sumo while there are rising stars who we have yet to know and recognise. I don't know how to feel about this.
The senpai-kouhai 先輩後輩 relationship that is rooted in Japan is clearly evident in the social and cultural hierarchy of sumo and how their lives as rikishi are played out in the beya. I walked past a group of them outside after leaving the gymnasium, waiting to hail a taxi. A taxi arrived shortly. One of them signaled for his two seniors to get in first, saw them off then waited for another. In the most ordinary of ways, sumo taught me what genuine respect and discipline is.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Archives
July 2020
|