The Little Sumo and the Gingerbread Dragon, part 1 －小さなお相撲さんとジンジャーブレッドの竜 パート1－

The Little Sumo was on holiday with Mummy and Daddy.  He sat in the back of the car, intently looking out of the window.  Mummy was at the wheel of their old and shabby orange family car, driving toward their hotel.  In fact their car had once been orange.  Now it was so old an spattered with mud that it had become browny-orange.  Daddy was in the front, in the passenger seat.  He too was intently looking out of the window. 

“I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with H,” said Daddy. 

The Little Sumo scanned the people on the pavement.  He spotted a policeman.  “Hat!” he shouted. 

“No,” said Daddy.  “Try again.” 

Mummy made a suggestion.  “Is it a human?” she asked. 

“Nope,” said Daddy.  “Try again.” 

The little sumo scanned the buildings at the side of the road.  “House!” he said. 

“That’s right,” said Daddy.  “Now it’s your turn.” 

So the Little Sumo looked ahead, then to the side, and then behind the car. 

“Well, hurry up!” said Daddy.  “Have a good look around and just pick something you can see.” 

The Little Sumo looked through the window and up into the sky.  “I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with D,” he said. 

“A dog?” suggested Daddy. 

“No,” said the Little Sumo.  “Try again!” 

Mummy made a guess.  “Uh… a doughnut?” she said.  “I didn’t see that policeman we passed eating one, but I’m quite sure that policemen always have doughnuts.” 

“No, Mummy, you’re wrong,” said the Little Sumo.  “Try again!” 

Daddy spoke next.  “A duck?  No, there aren’t any ducks.  A daffodil?  No, there aren’t any daffodils here either.  Okay, I give up.  What do you see that begins with the letter D?” 

“A dragon!” shouted the Little Sumo, happily. 

Mummy laughed out loud.  “I was just joking about the doughnut.  You’ve got to pick something you can actually see,” she said.  “You can’t just make something up, like seeing a dragon.” 

“But I did see a dragon,” said the Little Sumo, pointing to the sky.  “It had big wings and a long neck, and a tail, and it was kind of orangey-brown.” 

Daddy twisted in his seat to try to get a better look at the sky.  “Well, I can’t see anything,” he said.  Maybe it was a bird or a plane.” 

“It’s gone now,” said the Little Sumo.  “But it was there just before, flying in the sky!” 

“Oh!” said Daddy.  “I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with B - a betting shop!  I want to stop and make a bet on the important horse race today,” he said. 

“Oh, Daddy!  Do you have to go to a betting shop when we are on holiday?” said Mummy. 

“Well, it’s a very big, important race today,” he said.  “I just gamble once a year.  It’s a kind of tradition.  And I might win some money for us to spend on our holiday.”  He looked at his watch.  “The race will start soon.  I think I’ve got just enough time to place my bet.” 

So Mummy parked the car while Daddy went into the betting shop.  Mummy and the Little Sumo waited in the car for him to return. 

After a few minutes, the Little Sumo noticed that his window was trembling slightly, as if the ground under the car was being pushed by a heavy weight.  Then he heard a loud sound coming from behind them.  Clip-clop, clip-clop.  It was getting louder, coming nearer.  Clip-clop, clip-clop! 

The Little Sumo looked round, out of the back windscreen.  “Mummy, look!” he said. 

Trotting down the street was a huge white horse.  On its back was a knight in shining armour, carrying a bright and long lance. 

He spotted their mud-spattered, browny-orange car and gave a great shout.  “Huzzah!  I’ve got you now and you won’t escape my steel!” 

The knight flipped his visor down and lowered his lance, pointing the deadly end forward.  Then his horse came on at speed, charging towards the Little Sumo and Mummy in their car. 

* 

Oh, dear.  I hope that Mummy and the Little Sumo aren’t speared by this knight and his lance.  Will Daddy come out of the betting shop to the scene of a disaster?  And what happened to that dragon in the sky?  Find out in part 2 next time!

 

Vocabulary:

to do something intently – to do something with great focus and attention

to be shabby – to be old and in a bad condition

to be spattered with something – to be randomly covered with many splashes or little pieces of something.  For example, “The workman’s shirt was spattered with paint.”

to make something up – to invent or create something fictional

 

Voodoo People Like Us －私たちのようなブードゥー人間－

“Magic people: Voodoo people,

The voodoo who do what you don’t dare do, people.”

From the Prodigy song, “Voodoo People”

Do you remember the scene in the Indiana Jones movie, “The Temple of Doom” in which an evil child sticks a pin into a doll?  The doll represented Indiana Jones, and whenever the pin was stuck into the doll’s body, the real Indiana Jones started screaming in pain. 

This scene seems to be based on the idea of a Voodoo doll.  The movie is set in India and Voodoo originated in West Africa, so it was a little strange to use it in the movie.  But I can’t think of a better example of Voodoo dolls in popular culture. 

Not many people reading this blog will believe that sticking a pin into a doll representing your enemy can really cause that enemy to feel pain.  But it is not hard to believe that sticking the pin into the Voodoo doll can bring you pleasure! 

I recently read about a scientific study in which people were asked to remember a time when they were the victim of an injustice – for example, to remember a time when they were bullied at work.  Then half of the people studied were given the chance to stick a pin into a representation of the person who had wronged them, and half were not.  According to the researchers the people who stuck the pins in (actually, they stuck “virtual pins” into an image on a computer screen) experienced positive mental benefits.  Their feelings of injustice and victimhood were lessened by the symbolic act of revenge.  Even though their enemy in the real world was not harmed, they still got some psychological benefit from taking action to harm a representation of their enemy. 

So now you know what to do the next time your boss asks you to do overtime.

 

Making Mummified Chicken, Korean Style －韓国風鶏のミイラを作ること－

“Oh, God,” I thought, “Let the dessert be small!” 

I had already eaten crispy vegetables in batter, fruit wrapped in kimchee, toppogi (pounded rice), chijimi (a bit like a pancake), dak hanmari (a whole chicken and vegetable hot pot), and udon noodles.  I was full before the end of the chicken hot pot.  Like a soldier going into battle, I got through the hot pot and the udon, feeling my belly bulge against my waistband. 

“Maybe it will be one scoop of ice cream, or a single wafer of chocolate?” I hoped. 

Then the waiter announced annin dofu in lemon (a sort of sweet curd made from apricot kernel).  And I prepared for one last battle. 

I was in a lovely Korean restaurant in Ebisu called Suragan.  It was a birthday treat and so I ordered the 4,500 Yen lunch course.  It was very good value, and the chijimi was particularly nice.  I had only ever eaten it in cheap izakayas before, and I was surprised at how fluffy and light it was. 

But I really wanted to try the dak hanmari hot pot.  It was very interesting.  The waiter had us test the soup to see if it was acceptable, before we started, as customers test a bottle of wine before the waiter pours a full glass.  The soup was indeed very rich and tasty. 

The trouble is, especially for a blind person, it is rather difficult to eat a whole chicken in soup with chopsticks.  I had to pick a bit out with the chopsticks, try to find a bony bit, and then hold the bone with my fingers while I tore off the meat.  And the restaurant provided a little pot to put the bones into.  My wife commented that it put her in mind of the process of creating a mummy.  I know what she meant.  In ancient Egypt the embalmers used lots of little pots to put in various body parts that could not be preserved. 

For a Scotsman like me, one of the benefits of living in Tokyo is the quality of Asian restaurants.  Of course the Japanese food is nice.  But there are also lots of Koreans and Chinese living here.  And there are good Vietnamese and Thai restaurants too.  Scotland has good Indian and Cantonese restaurants, but not so many nice restaurants from other Asian countries. 

I’ll be sure to enjoy Korean food again.  But maybe a smaller course next time.

 

Half a Glass of Chilled Beer －グラス半分の冷えたビール－

French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre once wrote a play in which three characters are punished in the afterlife by being forced to spend an eternity locked together in a room.  This is sometimes summarised in the phrase, “Hell is being locked in a room with your friends”, or just, “Hell is other people.” 

Sartre’s vision of Hell came to mind this week when more than sixty people were trapped for several days and nights in a pub in the north of England.  People gathered at the pub to see an Oasis tribute band when there was a sudden flurry of snow.  The pub became cut off, and the concert-goers as well as the band were snowed in.  The strangers had to sleep on floors and sofas, and spend days trapped in a small space with strangers, listening to covers of Oasis songs.  Sartre probably would have committed suicide by the second day. 

But being stuck in a pub has its good points too.  English poet William Blake once said, “A good local pub has much in common with a church, except that a pub is warmer, and there is more conversation.” 

Perhaps a comparison of Sartre and Blake says something about the differing temperaments of the English and the French? 

The snowed in patrons seem to have sided with Blake, and taken the view that their glasses were half-full, not half-empty.  Speaking to the media about the incident, the pub owner said, "All of our guests have just been wonderful, so we've been incredibly lucky. They've been very supportive, understanding and patient.”  She said customers had helped out with washing up, clearing tables and collecting glasses. 

I must say that I’m not a big fan of Oasis.  After hearing a dodgy cover version of Wonderwall for the fiftieth time in four days, I probably would have agreed with Sartre.

 

Vocabulary:

a tribute band – a band that plays only cover versions of one particular band

a flurry of snow – a sudden heavy snowfall

to be snowed in – to be trapped and unable to leave because of heavy snow

a patron – a customer; someone who supports a business etc. with their money

dodgy – of low quality; unreliable