憧れ

So things are starting to wind down. All the projects and presentations are finished, and the final's tomorrow. Earlier this week I was fearing I'd leave with a lot of pent-up frustration, towards the country and the program and the language, but I think I got over at least part of the negative hump tonight.

Sometimes, I rant about the impression Japan is like an after school clubhouse--they have their special bottle-cap badges and the secret knock at the door and the "no girls allowed" sign on the door. Now make it a little more grown-up (but only a little) and replace "girls" with "gaijin". So of course, gaijin Elliot is not invited to the weekly meetings. But even so, there's moments of incredibly compelling kindness that wipe away all the negatives.

Today I went to the Judo dojo for the last time, to say my goodbyes to Suda-san and the sensei and the other judo-ka. I had already parted ways with my rental gi, and was surprised to see everyone else in their officer uniforms, not yet changed for practice. I had never conceptualized of most of them in anything but the white robe. We sat outside the dojo as they smoked, making small talk. Somebody had requested me to come (Suda-san? Mae-san? The polite suggestion of Okada-sensei who found me the class in the first place? When I was told my presence had been requested, the Japanese tendency to avoid attributing facts to a subject left this part out) but I didn't know what was expected of me.

It was a quiet goodbye, without events or speeches, just being, a time of enjoying the moment without much need for words. A goodbye is hard, something I barely know how to do in English. But I had a moment of realizing I was just sitting there amid these powerful, grown men, and I was accepted into the club.

My clumsy foreigner's tongue stumbled over the words for kindness and simple expressions of thanks I've used any number of times. I wonder if they understood the sincerity of what I tried to convey. I feel like one of my finest accomplishments of the summer is continuing to go to Judo; every time I started the hour-long commute by myself I could feel the deep knot of fear in my stomach. I went day after day, first to a dojo that had little interest in accepting me before I found the new one (that certainly brought its own uncertainties for being part of a prison facility). I knew I would be thrown to the mat effortlessly by the blackbelts, and acquire a new collection of bruises / blisters / inexplicable bleeding bits, and struggle to hang onto the sensei's every word in a desperate attempt to understand the physical moves that are both art and war. With the kindness of private tutorial before class and constantly imparted advice, I finally found a connection between the effort put in and the results I gained. Though I still couldn't dream of beating the real blackbelts, I learned increasingly difficult throws (or sometimes, how to deal with being thrown in an increasingly difficult fashion). That took a phenomenal burst of courage everyday.

If I found a class at home, will it mean the same thing in an environment of comfort? Hmm.

And now to to do a complete mood 180, please enjoy the video of me performing Hakodate's いか踊 (SQUID DANCE!!) at sunday's festival, 港祭り。(video credits: Julia Leonard) Please note that my arms are unreasonably long.


函館名物いか踊
いかさし、しおから、いかそめん
もう一つおまけにいかぽぽ
いかいかいかいかいか踊

Hakodate’s famous product - squid dance
squid sashimi salted squid guts squid noodles
one more dish - ika popo
squid squid squid squid squid dance!!!!