Unfortunately, they forgot to teach me any of the signs, and also neglected to tell me that one of their pitchers has some crazy breaking pitches. As a result, I spent the first three innings sticking my glove out and guessing when the pitcher would throw his rise ball. Sadly, a couple times I was just as fooled as the batter and had some pretty lame passed balls. It was a bit embarrassing.
Finally, after the third inning, I got smart and asked the pitcher about the signs, and from then on, I was able to redeem myself a bit -- blocked a couple balls in the dirt and even managed to pick a guy off of third base. I also went 1 for 2 with an RBI on a long sacrifice fly. Sorry to bore you with my stats, dear readers, but they will become important later on in this post, so please do read on.
Incidentally, last Friday was the first time I've caught a whole game in about four years, and apparently I was a bit out of shape, because I spent the next three days after the game hobbling down the steps of my apartment like an old woman. I suppose that's what I get for making fun of my teammates and calling them old men.
---
Last Sunday was my town's fall festival, a special event where all of the neighbors get together and pray* for a good harvest. In this particular festival, the kami, the god of a nearby Shinto shrine, is supposed to leave the shrine and enter a mikoshi, a portable shrine which looks something like this:
Then the men carry the mikoshi around the town all day, stopping at various places so that the kami can bless the rice fields and new houses and community centers and things.
Anyway, one of my private lesson students was supposed to play taiko during the festivities on Sunday, so I thought that I would drop by for a few hours or so to watch her. As it turns out, Tyler and I went together and ended up staying from 1 - 10 PM.
The minute we arrived at the festival, we instantly became the main attraction. Everyone was staring at us, all the while trying their best to be subtle. It was hilarious. As I walked through the crowd to find my private lesson student, I heard someone behind me call my name, and turned around to find half of my softball team standing there. Apparently, I have chosen to hang out with the right group of old men. They were very excited that we had come to their festival, and proceeded to shower us with food and drink and to introduce us to everyone in the town. Among the people I met were:
-- the priest at the local Shinto shrine. He was wearing his formal robes and hat, and every time the mikoshi would stop, it was his job to perform some kind of ceremony in front of it involving a pile of rice, a bottle of sake, and a stick with a holy piece of paper attached to it. He was very nice and tried to explain various parts of the festival to me. Also, apparently when he is not carrying out his priestly duties, he plays jazz piano at a club in Matsuyama. I think that I have probably met the hippest Shinto priest in all of Japan.
-- the wife of our second baseman, who very kindly invited us into her house and fed us $100+ bowls of mushroom soup. It was good soup, but I am not sure that I would pay $100 for it...
-- about fifteen different people who are all named Watanabe. Ridiculously confusing.
-- the dirty old men of the town. Actually, no one introduced me to these guys -- they just randomly sat down on either side of me at one point and started to make some sort of lewd comments in Japanese. Gross. Luckily, a couple of my teammates came to rescue me, and after that, the dirty men left me alone.
-- groups of elementary school girls who would come timidly towards us and stare at us (in admiration??). I tried speaking to them in both Japanese and English, but apparently they were so enamored with my gaijin charms that they were unable to reply.
My softball pals were particularly interested in Tyler, since they had never met him before, and immediately recruited him to carry the mikoshi around the town with them. Now, for the most part I found the festival quite charming, but I must say that this mikoshi carrying business is probably among the stupidest things I have seen in Japan.
In Shinto, sake is sacred, so at festivals it is customary for the men to drink a glass or two each time they put the mikoshi down. Since most people drink a few glasses every hour, just about everyone is as least sort of drunk, and therefore the process of carrying the mikoshi boils down to something like this: a huge mass of drunken men hoist the ~1,500 lb. mikoshi above their heads, turn around in circles three times, and then stagger down the very narrow streets, on either side of which are deep irrigation ditches. As I was watching the mikoshi, I couldn't help but wonder who thought that this would be a good idea??? I'll admit that it was entertaining, but I was also half waiting for someone to be crushed to death. :(
Besides my softball teammates, many other people from our town were very eager to talk to the two foreigners, and since Tyler doesn't know too much Japanese, I became his translator for the day. Most of our conversations went something like this:
Japanese guy: (in Japanese to Tyler) What is your name?
Tyler: ...??
Me: He wants to know your name.
Tyler: Oh, I'm Tyler.
Japanese guy: huh?
Tyler: Tyler desu. Ty-ler.
Japanese guy: Aaa, Tairaa. Naisu tsu meeto you. (to me in Japanese) Does your husband like to drink sake?
Me: Uh, er, what?? My husband? Ooohhh, haha. Tyler is not my husband. We just work together at the medical school.
Japanese guy: (chuckling) Oh, sure. Well, by the end of the year, he'll be your husband... unless I fight him for your hand. (makes punching motions at Tyler)
Tyler: ...?? (chuckles and makes punching motions back)
Me: Er, maybe, yes.
It has now been almost a week since the festival, and it has become clear to me that gossip moves at an alarming rate in my little town. I have already seen several random people from the festival in the past few days, and at least three people have pointed at me and called me "パワーヒッター" (power hitter) or "大リーグ" (major leaguer). At first I was quite confused by this and wondered if I was hearing them right, but after talking to these people, apparently my sacrifice fly last Friday has since become a myth of epic proportions around town. (I've also become famous around here for my arm, I guess. Several people have told me that I throw like an American. When I press them to elaborate, they say that they are impressed with my speed. I'm still not quite sure what to think about this. Does this mean that all Japanese people throw like pansies?)
Anyway, I am sure that by now, everyone in my town also knows about me and my gaijin "husband." I am quite frustrated about this, since it will surely ruin my plans to become a trophy wife for a kind, young, wealthy, attractive Japanese man.**
*Religion in Japan is really complicated, but basically, people here are not super attached to any one doctrine -- most people seem to adhere to both Shinto and Buddhist customs whenever it suits them. So keep in mind that the people in my town think about gods and praying and things differently than many Americans do.
Then the men carry the mikoshi around the town all day, stopping at various places so that the kami can bless the rice fields and new houses and community centers and things.
Anyway, one of my private lesson students was supposed to play taiko during the festivities on Sunday, so I thought that I would drop by for a few hours or so to watch her. As it turns out, Tyler and I went together and ended up staying from 1 - 10 PM.
The minute we arrived at the festival, we instantly became the main attraction. Everyone was staring at us, all the while trying their best to be subtle. It was hilarious. As I walked through the crowd to find my private lesson student, I heard someone behind me call my name, and turned around to find half of my softball team standing there. Apparently, I have chosen to hang out with the right group of old men. They were very excited that we had come to their festival, and proceeded to shower us with food and drink and to introduce us to everyone in the town. Among the people I met were:
-- the priest at the local Shinto shrine. He was wearing his formal robes and hat, and every time the mikoshi would stop, it was his job to perform some kind of ceremony in front of it involving a pile of rice, a bottle of sake, and a stick with a holy piece of paper attached to it. He was very nice and tried to explain various parts of the festival to me. Also, apparently when he is not carrying out his priestly duties, he plays jazz piano at a club in Matsuyama. I think that I have probably met the hippest Shinto priest in all of Japan.
-- the wife of our second baseman, who very kindly invited us into her house and fed us $100+ bowls of mushroom soup. It was good soup, but I am not sure that I would pay $100 for it...
-- about fifteen different people who are all named Watanabe. Ridiculously confusing.
-- the dirty old men of the town. Actually, no one introduced me to these guys -- they just randomly sat down on either side of me at one point and started to make some sort of lewd comments in Japanese. Gross. Luckily, a couple of my teammates came to rescue me, and after that, the dirty men left me alone.
-- groups of elementary school girls who would come timidly towards us and stare at us (in admiration??). I tried speaking to them in both Japanese and English, but apparently they were so enamored with my gaijin charms that they were unable to reply.
My softball pals were particularly interested in Tyler, since they had never met him before, and immediately recruited him to carry the mikoshi around the town with them. Now, for the most part I found the festival quite charming, but I must say that this mikoshi carrying business is probably among the stupidest things I have seen in Japan.
In Shinto, sake is sacred, so at festivals it is customary for the men to drink a glass or two each time they put the mikoshi down. Since most people drink a few glasses every hour, just about everyone is as least sort of drunk, and therefore the process of carrying the mikoshi boils down to something like this: a huge mass of drunken men hoist the ~1,500 lb. mikoshi above their heads, turn around in circles three times, and then stagger down the very narrow streets, on either side of which are deep irrigation ditches. As I was watching the mikoshi, I couldn't help but wonder who thought that this would be a good idea??? I'll admit that it was entertaining, but I was also half waiting for someone to be crushed to death. :(
Besides my softball teammates, many other people from our town were very eager to talk to the two foreigners, and since Tyler doesn't know too much Japanese, I became his translator for the day. Most of our conversations went something like this:
Japanese guy: (in Japanese to Tyler) What is your name?
Tyler: ...??
Me: He wants to know your name.
Tyler: Oh, I'm Tyler.
Japanese guy: huh?
Tyler: Tyler desu. Ty-ler.
Japanese guy: Aaa, Tairaa. Naisu tsu meeto you. (to me in Japanese) Does your husband like to drink sake?
Me: Uh, er, what?? My husband? Ooohhh, haha. Tyler is not my husband. We just work together at the medical school.
Japanese guy: (chuckling) Oh, sure. Well, by the end of the year, he'll be your husband... unless I fight him for your hand. (makes punching motions at Tyler)
Tyler: ...?? (chuckles and makes punching motions back)
Me: Er, maybe, yes.
It has now been almost a week since the festival, and it has become clear to me that gossip moves at an alarming rate in my little town. I have already seen several random people from the festival in the past few days, and at least three people have pointed at me and called me "パワーヒッター" (power hitter) or "大リーグ" (major leaguer). At first I was quite confused by this and wondered if I was hearing them right, but after talking to these people, apparently my sacrifice fly last Friday has since become a myth of epic proportions around town. (I've also become famous around here for my arm, I guess. Several people have told me that I throw like an American. When I press them to elaborate, they say that they are impressed with my speed. I'm still not quite sure what to think about this. Does this mean that all Japanese people throw like pansies?)
Anyway, I am sure that by now, everyone in my town also knows about me and my gaijin "husband." I am quite frustrated about this, since it will surely ruin my plans to become a trophy wife for a kind, young, wealthy, attractive Japanese man.**
*Religion in Japan is really complicated, but basically, people here are not super attached to any one doctrine -- most people seem to adhere to both Shinto and Buddhist customs whenever it suits them. So keep in mind that the people in my town think about gods and praying and things differently than many Americans do.
**Actually, I have already given up on this plan since all men in Japan are chain smokers. And that's just gross.
2 comments:
hahahahahaha
omg, that's hilarious!
lol, and i was starting to wonder who tyler was.
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