Six weeks down and 4 to go and I ticked off one of the last 10 things I want to do in Japan at a stroke.
One wet and anonymous morning last week before work I bustled over to the other side of Tokyo to the shitamachi neighbourhoods of Uguisudani, near Nippori and Ueno. I hadn't ever heard of Uguisudani before I went and had to double check it was on the circular Yamanote line.
The beya was buried in this neighbourhood and looked innocuous enough. I think I actually walked past it, stopped, checked the map and walked back and then noticed the large, dark wooden sliding doors and the name of the place, Musashigawa, in elaborate kanji on a sign beside the door.
Inside there was no mistake. I could hear slaps against thighs and as I crept along the corridor and peeked around a corner, a man mountain greeted me and gestured which way to go. I was the only visitor. Six junior sumo wrestlers were counting off and slapping their thighs, sucking and blowing, raising their legs and dropping them in unison, calling out, 'Ichhh...niiii...san..' One giant's brow was sunk so low his eyebrows had pinched up into twin arches. I realised this was the closest I would ever be to a wrestler in action, beating any tournament I had been to.
They did squats and push-ups and power exercises, shuffled around the ring together like a meat train and criss-crossed the ring swinging imaginary hands and twisting and yanking at thin air with their hands. After that, the bouts began and again and again three junior wrestlers went at each other. You never do hear them call out and grunt on tv, above the roar a full crowd, but here I missed nothing.
The trainers watched on and heckled any mistakes. A man with a thick cauliflower ear arrived to much ceremony and pious greetings from everyone, and sat on 2 zabuton ahead of me.
I had to leave for work at 8.30, just as 6 or 7 Japanese tourists arrived to watch.
