Sano
life has continued in its own sedate manner during the last few weeks, and as
such I decided to actively seek out things that might lead to entertaining
stories. The first of these was a couple of Saturday’s ago when I discovered
there was a martial arts centre in town and decided to check it out. Prior to
that however, I felt it was time to visit the local hairdressers.
I
opted out of visiting the salon immediately opposite our office on the basis
that it is called “Locomotion” and has the lyrics to the Kylie classic above
the door, and instead went to the place recommended by my boss. Upon arrival I
was immediately suspicious when the owner, and chap who would be cutting my
hair, appeared in a beanie hat, despite having the heating on full blast. Hiding
something?
Photo from Google Street View - not a joke |
The
haircut itself was passable, it was afterwards that things got weird. When
asked if I wanted a shave I figured that this was as good a way as any to get
my kicks on a Friday night in Sano, so nodded my head in agreement. I was immediately
perplexed however, when shaving foam was then applied to my entire face. I
repeat. ENTIRE face.
Slightly
concerned but unable to properly communicate with the chap, I hoped he was just
trying to get an even layer of foam for some reason. Faint hopes were swiftly dashed when out came the blade and he proceeded to shave my forehead.
Now,
I admit that I’m a hairy chap, but my spam really is one of the few places that
is pretty smooth. Well, it was anyway. Now however, I am destined to spend the
rest of my days in fear that whatever hair there was will grow back thicker and
faster and thus leave me looking like Teenwolf. Perhaps this was some clever
ruse by our beanied friend to make me a repeat customer. Sneaky bastard.
That
ordeal over with, it was time to see some sword wielding. Iaido is an ancient
martial art that is described as: “a reflection of the morals of the classical
warrior” and its purpose is “to build a spiritually harmonious person possessed
of high intellect, sensitivity, and resolute will.” Sounds just like me I think
you’ll all agree.
The
place was about a 20 minute stroll from my place and when I arrived I
discovered about eight folks, including the Sensei (who it turns out, owns a
rather nice café not far from my flat) in full regalia and carrying swords that
I was informed were up to 400 years old. From what I can tell Iaido itself
seems to involve a lot of sheathing and unsheathing ones sword, and taking
several short steps before sitting down. Sadly I didn’t get to see them attack
anything, or anyone, so departed a little underwhelmed by the whole experience.
After
that it seemed only right to return to what I do best, so the following weekend
I went into Tokyo
for the rugby Sevens and got royally pissed in the manner of a typical expat.
Upsettingly it was the Japan Cricket Association AGM the following day (yes, on
Sunday), so while barely able to open my eyes I bumbled my way into Shinjuku,
shook hands with some terribly important people and sat through two hours of
Japanese which, believe me, is enough to magnify any hangover by a factor of a
thousand.
The only
other significant piece of news is that our National Coach has now arrived. His
first day at work was in fact the AGM, so as you can imagine I made a cracking
first impression. The season starts next week however and the East Asia Pacific
Women’s tournament is just five weeks away now, so he’s got a fair bit to be
getting on with.
My
own project, Cricket Blast, is gradually developing. Plenty of hurdles to get
over between now and mid-May when we have our first school festival day, but
fingers crossed we’ll get everything ready in time. Before then I have the
small matter of the London Marathon to complete, two weeks today. My body hasn’t
completely given up on me yet so I’m confident that I’ll at least make the
start line.
I was helped by visiting the local physio in town. My hopes were not all that high when he told me, within less than five seconds of entering his house, that I should stop running and not do the marathon. He didn't look overly interested either as he moved my leg around with one hand and played with his phone in the other. He then strapped some weird electrode machine to my leg and I spent the next 15 minutes with my thigh in constant spasm. It was quite amusing at first but soon just got weird. Still, I made it through my 20-miler later in the week without any serious dramas so maybe I'll go back there before race day.
I fly home in ten days and hope to see a few people then. In the meantime I shall leave you with these sage words of advice, written on a T-shirt I was recently given: