Japan Day 3: Harajuku, Sumo, Shinkansen

I'm typing this from the shinkansen - the bullet train from Tokyo to Kyoto. This society is so polite that the female food cart vendor bows to the car as she exits it.

Jon and I slept in and skipped out on the trip to Sensoji Temple. Instead, we took our time getting up and packing our bags.

Then it was off to Akihabara, the electronic shop district, where we visited AsoBitCity, a six story shrine to nerdom. An entire floor devoted to video games; another devoted to toy robots; and yet another devoted to anime costumes. You can even purchase panties for your anime character dolls.

Afterwards, Wallace, Jon, and I headed off to Harajuku, our purpose twofold. One, we wanted to observe the niche fashions popular among the teenagers who populate Yoyogi Park on Sunday afternoons, and two, we wanted to visit the Meiji Shrine.

The shrine came first. We walked along an incredibly majestic path, lined by ancient trees, which cast the entire path in shadow. Leaves fell gently from the trees, while an elderly man swept them away with a straw broom. As we entered the shrine, we came across a tree around which prayers, written by visitors. Most of the prayers revolved around prosperity, love, and happiness. Presumably, the priests then offer the prayers up to the appropriate deities.



We entered the shrine, found that several Japanese people were tossing coins into the shrine and making prayers, so we found ourselves doing the same, after careful study of the Japanese prayer technique, which involves multiple bows and claps. Wallace criticized my clapping as too soft.

Multiple weddings were in progress at Meiji Shrine, and we were fortunate to observe two couples in different stages of the process. One couple was preparing for wedding photography, the bride and groom posing formally, preened by attendants. The second couple was leading a procession into the shrine itself, inching slowly and stately up the steps.



We then followed the path out of the shrine and into Yoyogi Park, where we were greeted by a group of men with elaborate pompadours, dancing wildly for the crowd. Then came the young teenagers posing wtih "Free Hugs" signs, of which Jonathan gladly partook. And the middle-aged man dancing and singing histrionically to the Police's "Every Breath You Take". And the rainbow-haired young man who decided to screech and squeal along with a heavy metal song, before a seated crowd of prepubescent girls who swooned at his every movement. Several bands were playing in the park, often separated by a mere ten feet.

Wallace, Jon and I quickly wolfed down a quick meal at a noodle shop, and then headed to , where the sumo arena was situated. The sumo arena is a formal, staid building, perfectly square, with orderly rows of red, velvety seats. Deciphering and decoding the rituals and pageantry of sumo is almost as fun as watching it. Because matches are often resolved in seconds, the wrestlers revel in the false start: the will step into the center of the ring, and then unexpectedly retreat to their corners, in order to drink water, wipe their faces, and throw salt on the ground (salt is a ritual purifier). There is also a procession of banners displaying the sponsors of the match; the number of banners indicates the amount of money at stake. One thing that surprised me about sumo is the ferocity of some wrestlers, who unabashedly slap the faces of their opponents.