Tokyo: Goths, Sumo and the Weirdos they Attract

This past Sunday, my brother Ian and I took an early bus to Tokyo. We bought an ‘all you can ride’ metro ticket for $7, and spent the day exploring the city. We were there on the day of the national elections (or, ‘erections’ as the Japanese would say), but didn’t notice any unusual tension in the air.

We saw a lot of Tokyo on Sunday, riding the train from one interesting center to the next. We visited the trendy shops of Shibuya, took photos of the gathering gothic girls in Harajuku, and got caught in a rainstorm in Shinjuku. We walked for hours, taking photos of the ever-busy city that is Tokyo. We set up our tripods and took pictures of the massive intersections, where, even on a Sunday, there is a never ending flow of traffic (those on foot, those on bikes, and those in cars).

Every Sunday, dozens of gothic girls gather in Harajuku to have their pictures taken by camera wielding foreigners. The goths range in appearance from some of the freakiest, mask-wearing girls with Marilyn Manson style makeup, to cute teenagers dressed in colourful nurse’s outfits and holding colour coordinated umbrellas (don’t ask me…). As Ian and I walked around, taking in this unique Tokyo sight, we noticed a large man, shabbily dressed and wearing a purple bandana on his head. What caught my attention was the beautiful Rolleiflex camera that he had permanently attached to his eyeball. He would rapidly shoot pictures as one of his many youthful assistants loaded his second camera. When he ran out of film in the camera he was holding, one of his assistants would throw the strap of his second camera around his neck, remove the first camera (as if this guy didn’t have hands of his own), and would quickly repeat the process, ensuring that the photographer always had film to expose.

This intrigued me. Why did this guy have an entourage that rivaled 50 Cent’s in numbers? Who was this strange man that I would have thought to be homeless if it weren’t for the $5000 worth of camera gear clutched between his large, sweaty fingers? I asked one of his posse members who the photographer was. “Bruce Weber” she replied.

“Is he famous?,” I asked.

“Yes,” she said snobbily, as if she didn’t have time to talk to a lowly peasant such as myself. “We’re having a gallery opening. You should come.”

'Not if you’re going to be there', I thought, and walked away.

The name Bruce Weber sounded familiar to me, but it didn’t sink in at first. Later, Ian looked up his name. It turns out that he is one of the most famous fashion photographers of all time. He has taken pictures of Madonna, Johnny Depp, Kate Moss and every other celebrity who has had more than 15 minutes of fame. His forte however, seems to be nude males and dogs. This has been a running joke for Ian and I ever since. I wish that I could say that Bruce Weber asked me what kind of film I was shooting that day, or how I thought he should compose his next picture. Hell, I even wish I could say that he asked Ian and I to pose topless, holding Cocker Spaniels in our bare arms, but he didn’t. Oh well. And somehow life goes on….

At 4 pm we made our way to the sumo arena in Ryoogoku, passing huge kimono clad men on the way; their long greasy hair slicked back, their traditional Japanese wooden slippers clip clopping on the cement sidewalks, and the smell of baby powder lingering in the air as they passed. A prestigious sumo tournament is being held in Tokyo for the next two weeks, and Ian and I had tickets to watch the action on the first day. We made our way to a couple of seats that we had reserved for ourselves earlier that morning.

Sitting a few seats over from us was a guy of roughly our age, dressed in a messy t-shirt and camouflage pants. His hair was frizzy and unkempt, and he had a thick, bushy beard. Before long, he was talking our ears off; his thick Scottish accent, which I usually find calming, became annoying very quickly. The guy had been in Japan for a week, but talked to me as if he were an expert on all things Japanese, and I had just arrived yesterday. “You’ll like this place,” he said in his thick drawl. “There’s a lot of stuff to do here.” Thanks buddy…

He talked to us for most of the remaining bouts, giving us his impressions of Tokyo. He threw out several memorable lines such as: “It’s the only city where you can buy life size blow up Batman dolls, Star Wars characters, and child pornography in the same store.” His favourite things in Tokyo were Pachinko halls (Japanese gambling), Tokyo Disney, and the fast food restaurants. I told him how disgusted I was by Pachinko halls, describing them as hell on earth, full of loud, annoying machines, clouds of cigarette smoke, and compulsive gamblers. He then told us that he was addicted to gambling. Awkward…. I told him that he should pick up smoking as well. To make a long story short, this isn’t a guy that I would like to be stuck in a room with, let alone a massive, Japanese style Sumo arena. I think he spent the majority of his time in Tokyo riding the Tea-Cups at Tokyo Disney and scarfing down Japanese hamburgers. 'Twas a very cultural experience, lad!

Also sitting near us in the stands was a strange Japanese lady who was holding two dolls, both the size of real babies. She was cuddling them, holding them gently in her arms, and rocking them back and forth. The dolls had their own carriage, and she treated them delicately. This lady was wacko! You didn’t even have to talk to her to be sure! She was all alone (go figure!), taking in the sumo event with her two little baby dolls. And one of the dolls was a white child! Very unusual! She’s probably one of those people who still believes Michael Jackson just likes to hang around with children.

The sumo wrestling was a very cool Japanese experience. The bouts were on average extremely short, some of them lasting less than one second. The loser is the first person to leave the ring or touch any part of their body other than the bottom of their foot against the canvas. In some matches, one of the contestants was knocked out almost instantaneously. Those weren’t the exciting matches. Several of the bouts, however, were quite thrilling; watching as the two wrestlers slammed head first into one another and then used all of their power to resist being thrown from the ring. In some cases they fell hard, the sound of the thud reaching the upper deck, where we were sitting uncomfortably close to a Scottish gambling addict and a delusional mother of two plastic dolls.

The last fight, between the best sumo wrestler in Japan and his challenger, was the most thrilling that we saw. The fight lasted nearly a minute, which is extremely long for a sumo bout. The underdog began to threaten the undefeated fighter’s chances of winning; pushing him close against the edge of the canvas and throwing all of his weight against him. The undefeated fighter was clearly experienced. He narrowly escaped defeat for most of the bout, standing on the tips of his toes as he withheld the force of a giant man trying to push him off the canvas. It was thrilling! The underdog came so close to winning so many times, but the more experienced fighter managed to somehow stay on the canvas. Finally, the previously undefeated fighter was thrown from the ring. He fell hard down the 2 foot drop and onto the ground. The crowd went ballistic! Everyone in the lower sections of the arena, in an expression of shock at the outcome, threw the cushions that they had been sitting on. The canvas quickly became covered in red seat cushions; some of which hit the winner of the bout as he sat cross legged on his side of the canvas, the look of pride beaming across his face.

For the next few minutes, the arena was abuzz with shocked, shouting spectators. It was like a scene out of the movie Rocky, only a very Japanese version. Watching as hundreds of flat, red cushions floated through the air and landed on and around the canvas was dream-like. Time must have been advancing in slow motion for the winner who had the respect of every single person in the arena. The crowd was amazed that the winner of the previous six tournaments had just lost a bout. The underdog performed a ceremonial dance while the spectators began to file out of the venue. It was a great experience! The next day at school, all of the teachers were talking about it around the green tea cooler. It was a 'green tea cooler' conversation...

When not in Tokyo, we’ve been hanging out in my area. Among other things, we've visited a world-class Aquarium on the ocean where we took in a dolphin show and saw an amazing array of large fish being held captive in tanks far too small for their bodies; and, we had lunch in a small ramen shop where Japan’s slowest, oldest waitress served us and then stared as we slurped our noodles in the empty restaurant. While I spend my days at work, Ian dresses up in his favourite maid’s uniform and cleans my apartment.