Kai's first Sumo Event

Today at a small shrine near our house in Tokyo, it was children’s Sumo day.  A day where those just big enough to stand can test there power and agility against their peers in the age old Sumo match. 

It was Kai’s first time to see live sumo, let along his first match, so before the event, Kai and I stepped into the toy train track ring at home and I told him about sumo, the honorable bowing, the shinto history and how one must push one's opponent out of the ring. We focused on the pushing. I thought with Kai’s genetic explosive energy, he would be a natural at Sumo. 

So after one or two pushes in the living room, we hopped on the bike and rode to the local shrine.  On the way into the shrine, we purified our hands in the holy spring water and Kai insisted that he do this himself.  I saw this as a sign of independence and a good start for his first day of Sumo.

We walk down the steep stone steps of the shrine and at the bottom was the Sumo dohyō (土俵) (ring.) I inquire if Kai is too young to enroll and I am assured that two-year-olds are plenty old enough for Sumo wrestling.  We fill out the entry form and he’s signed up.

We sit out on tarps just outside the dohyo in the shade.  This is very lucky as it is sweltering hot.  Many are sitting in the direct July noon sun. All are given cold tea and cokes and watch the opening ceremony.  Kai, who is  embarrassed to be there with his foreigner father, has attached himself to the family sitting next to us and follows their kids around and does what they do.  This is fortunate as in the opening ceremonies, there is a lot of required bowing when the priest bows and as the family’s father tells his children to bow at the right time, Kai bows along with them.  As the priest bows deeply, Kai bows so low, his head touches the ground.  The other kids are not bowing so low and the father points to Kai as an example. 

At the center of the dohyo is a small wooden altar with two white ceramic bottles filled with holy sake. On the altar there are a number of holy branches with paper tied to them.  The Shinto priest, who wears a tall pointed black hat and long traditional robes, starts clapping and bowing, and then shakes his holy stick to purify the dohyo.  The Sumo organizers are asked to come to the dohyo and lay their holy branches on the altar. Finally the crowed claps and bows and the ceremony ends.

As the Sumo organizer is removing the alter from the ring, he trips and the alter comes crashing down into the ring and the holy ceramic sake containers shatter hitting the ground sending sharp tiny ceramic shards all over the dohyō  where the kids will soon be doing Sumo in their bare feet. The crowd gasps.  Not a good sign of things to come.

The Sumo head, not at all pleased at his colleague who dropped the altar, gets the big bamboo broom and re-sweeps the dohyō and all of the sand with the ceramic shards off to the side. Several inspect the dohyōto insure that it is safe for the festivities to continue.  Finally all give the O.K. and it is time.

The first match is between two, two-year-olds; a small girl and a little boy.  The little boy is one of the three kids in the family next to me.  The two kids are placed in the ring and as soon as the gyōji (行司)(Sumo ref) gives the OK, one child runs out of the ring crying to his parents leaving the other standing in the middle, default winner with out having moved an inch.

This will be Kai’s best strategy, but before I have time to tell him to stand in the ring and not move an inch, his name is called for the next match. 

His opponent is a small Japanese girl with short hair who just comes up to Kai’s shoulders; he is rather large for his age.  We are whisked off to the East entrance to the  dohyō  and a white mawashi (sumo towel) is tied around his waist.  This he does not like.  As he struggles to get it off, he is placed in the ring by a sumo assistant and just as the gyōji (Ref) gives the go-ahead, Kai decides he has had enough and would rather be with his foreign papa than be in the ring.  So he lets out a sob and runs full speed out of the ring. 

The little girl, who has only blinked, is declared the winner.

Kai is given a bag of treats and toys for his efforts and we sit down to watch the older kids battle it out in the ring.  The more Kai watches, the more he wants to go back in the ring.  At one point he heads for the steps even as another kid is called. 

Throughout the rest of the matches, Kai sat on the sidelines and cheered “Ganbatte!” (Good luck,) to the other kids as they gave it their all.