SUMO STRUT

First the naked man festival, now sumo: a theme for this year seems to be emerging, namely ogling nude men in Japan.  I made my first foray into the sport of sumo wrestling this past weekend, and found it to be surprisingly interesting (compared to the 4 hours I spent at my first kabuki play, which I will never get back).  In Roald Dahl's classic, The BFG, the female protagonist, Sophie, is kidnapped and taken to Giant Country, where she is terrified by the horde of tall, hairy, smelly, man-eating behemoths in loincloths.  In this sense, sumo is a lot like being lost in Giant Country, except instead of eating human beings, wrestlers are fattened up on chanko nabe, an exceptionally fatty kind of soup.  Sumo began some 1500 years ago, and originally was a Shinto ritual beseeching good harvests.  Sumo is fought in a ring called a dohyo, which is about 15 feet in diameter, a raised platform of rice sacks.  Above the dohyo is suspended a roof resembling that of a Shinto shrine.  

This 6 pack is not for the squeamish

Pre-tournament ritual

The bout begins with stretches and the sumo strut.  Facing the audience, wrestlers raise one leg at a time, only to slam it down, hard.  They purify their mouths with water, wipe their bodies with a towel, and throw handfuls of salt into the ring to purify it.  They then enter the ring itself, do more leg slams, and scowl at each other as they squat, butts out.  Each wrestler lays a fist on the ground; first one, and then the other.  When both sets of fists are on the ground, the match can start, unless one wrestler quickly takes his fist from the floor, and goes off for more stretching, water, and salt-throwing.  This is supposed to be part of an elaborate process of psychological warfare.  Really, it's a rather tedious 4 minutes of waiting for the initial clash.  

Stomp

The fights themselves are quick, sometimes just a couple of seconds.  A match is won when a wrestler either touches the floor of the ring with something other than his feet, or moves outside of it.  Balance is perhaps the most important skill, and many victors win simply by using their opponent's weight against him.  As one wrestler rushes at the other, the second man quickly steps back and lets his opponent make a face plant on the floor. There are other popular maneuvers as well, including flipping, pushing, and grabbing hold of an opponent's mawashi (sumo diaper), and yanking on it, creating a giant wedgie.  Some contestants are so strong that they can literally pick their opponent up and place him on his feet outside of the ring.  Kicking in the stomach or chest, punching, hair pulling, eye gouging and choking are not permitted.  Slapping is allowed, however, and some of the lower-ranking matches resembled a slap fight more than a wrestling match.     

Flip

Wedgie

Push

Most surprising? There are a ton of foreign wrestlers who participate in sumo.  One of the poster boys (literally) for the sport is a 6'8" blond haired, blue eyed mammoth Mongolian.  The only foreigner I saw win a match was a Belgian, and the audience's reaction was more fitting for an English cricket party than a stadium affair.  Conversely, when the 8 or so other foreign competitors lost, Japanese fans were up on their feet, cheering and clapping.  

Beginning in 2010, the honor of sumo has been sullied by multiple confirmed charges of match fixing.  A range of people have been implicated, from tournament officials to the wrestlers themselves.  A lot of the match rigging has occurred in connection with the notorious yakuza, who run most of the gambling outfits in Japan.  Since sumo is considered the national pastime, many people, including Prime Minister Naoto Kan, have perceived this skulduggery as an affront against the Japanese people.  Judging by the crowds, however, the scandals haven't deterred the fans.   

GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER

Cross-cultural dating isn't common in Japan, but when you do see it, 98% of the time it's Japanese girls with western guys.  There is apparently a dearth of relationships between foreign girls and Japanese guys.  I've heard more than a few stories of JETs who thought they had a Japanese boyfriend, only to find out that they were being used for English practice.  And although Japanese men love to flirt with western women, few of them seem keen to bring home a foreign girlfriend to introduce to their families, even men who have lived abroad for some period of time.  

Of the foreign male/Japanese female pairings, some of these couples end up getting married and stay in Japan, while others relocate to the groom's home country.** More often than not, the male half of these inter-cultural relationships would not be considered the most eligible of bachelors in their countries of origin, but they manage to do excessively well here (though that luck can run out).  I was introduced to a strange and handsome outgoing ALT when I arrived, who was proud of his Cassanova reputation (and true to form, he hit on me within a few minutes of our first meeting).  However, when he left JET, he was dismayed to find that he did not have as much success with the ladies of his homeland as he did with his Japanese girlfriends.  It seems that the lines that work on Japanese girls don't translate into other cultures.   

Particularly curious are the men of questionable sexual orientation who date and even marry Japanese women.  [I can't actually confirm that these guys are gay, but the very fact they set off my non-existent gaydar is compelling evidence.]  I once read that this was due to the fact that Japanese women's bodies are often fairly androgynous.  However, one of my friends here offered a different theory: "Yeah, gay men marry Japanese women because after they get married and have kids, couples pretty much stop having sex.  The houses are so small that often the kids sleep with the parents, so it's kind of a perfect arrangement for guys who are in the closet."  Mystery solved?    

**Out of curiosity, I asked someone whether women are considered "tainted" after their relationships end with western men, as it seems unlikely to me that westerners would commit to a celibate relationship the way some Japanese men might. Apparently this isn't much of an issue, as pre-marital sex is not uncommon in Japan.  I was a little curious as to how couples manage this when everyone lives with their parents until marriage, but apparently, this is the #1 purpose of love hotels.  

LIP MY STOCKINGS

Today's post is sure to make my mother squirm, assuming that she's even reading this.  So this week we're going to be examining some of Japan's most bizarre fetishes, which are not for the faint of heart.  Most of the stuff I'm including is pretty tame (I'm too scared to research the hardcore stuff), and I'm not going to provide links to anything that really crosses a line.  Which is A LOT, as it so happens.  Anyone who's seen "Lost in Translation" will probably remember the awkward encounter of Bill Murray and an unknown Japanese woman in his hotel room.  He's mystified as to what she's doing there, and why she keeps telling him to "lip my stockings."  She seems to be trying to seduce him, but any time his hand so much as grazes her person, she collapses in a heap of flailing arms and limbs, shouting "No, Mr. Bob Halis, no!" before trying to pull him closer.  We infer that she believes that some men are attracted to women who flirt and then protest.  That's weird, right?  Turns out it's only the tip of the iceberg.

I was surprised to learn as I was preparing to move here that there are certain goods that expats recommend you bring with you to Japan, because you either can't find them here, or they are not the same strength as products from home.  Toothpaste, deodorant, tampons, and aspirin are all on the list.  However, there are some things that you may really want to have in Japan, but aren't allowed to bring in, including cold medicine, over-the-counter allergy meds, and porn.  Several males were very matter-of-fact: "I mean, they have porn in Japan, but the laws don't allow them to show specific body parts like genitalia, so all of it's kind of blurred.  So, um, yeah.  That's why they won't let you bring in western porn, because they don't blur stuff.  So if you want that kind of stuff, you'll have to have someone send it to you in the mail.  But it could still be confiscated by customs, so be aware of that." Catholic friend MB was dismayed to find a cache of his predecessor's porn contraband as he was cleaning out his apartment.  He told me, "I mean, I don't why the guy couldn't have just thrown it out when he left. Or taken it with him, you know? It's not like it's illegal in his home country." He looked at the pile and shuddered a little.  Not that the embargo on pornography really matters, since you can get real, live sexy times at select locations throughout the country. 

The list of things that Japanese men purportedly find to be a turn on (because who cares what women like) would mystify even Freud.  Last week, I mentioned body pillows and life-sized plastic dolls.  Vending machines selling (used) panties are also a fad in some major cities.  Other usual suspects include school girl uniforms, baby doll dresses, knee-high stockings, and the like. From there, the predilections go off in all sorts of tangents.  Here's a selection of the most memorable: 

1. Diapers.  There are many schools of the diaper fetish.  Some involve the apparent allure of urinating on oneself; others revolve around men wearing a diaper and being babied by women.  In bebigyaru ("baby girl"), women wear the diapers and parade around in front of men.  

They're so slimming
From www.9ghealthfoods.com

2. Face farting.  I trust this is self-explanatory.

From www.dannychoo.com

3. Cat slapping.  Taken from the English term "cat fight," cat slapping celebrates women hitting each other across the face.  It's considered particularly sporting to watch porn actresses walk through the streets slapping unsuspecting women.   

4. Fish/food.  A guy from vice.com (the website pretty much says it all) did an interview with a Japanese pornographer who has been incorporating different "foods" into the making of his films.  To be clear, there is no bestiality involved,** though I'm sure PETA would have a fit (some of the foods are eaten alive during the shoot, others are inserted into various orifices, etc).  The producer argues that there is a niche for watching women covered in worms, insects, fish, and frogs.  The still shots that are shown in the clip are pretty outrageous, but weirdly artistic, as though Tim Burton were chosen to direct a shoot for Playboy.  However, when the interviewer pays the producer the compliment of saying, "These are actually kind of artistic. Is this about art for you?," the producer muses for a moment before replying, "Mmm, some people ask me if this is art.  For me, it is not art.  It is just pornography."  So much for trying to elevate his work. The vice video is prurient enough that I'm not going to link to it.  If you really want to gross yourself out, you can search for "Genki and the Art of Eel Porn."

**That ickiness is reserved for a Japanese phenomenon called "tentacle rape."  Apparently some men, including renowned woodblock print artist Katsushika Hokusai, found the idea of women and octopi or squid getting frisky with one another to be quite appealing.  Hokusai's "The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife" (maybe don't click on this link at work) is a prime example of this progressive relationship. 

5. Teeth.  Men watch women brush their teeth, floss, undergo dental exams and x-rays, or enjoy a meal (though I can't imagine watching someone eat corn on the cob would be all that appealing, even if you had a fetish for teeth).

THE MEA CULPA AND THE NOT QUITE

A few weeks ago, I mentioned a story from This American Life that covered the conditions of factories in China that happen to make Apple products.  Since then, a number of related stories have followed, including a front page spread in The New York Times.  Petitions have gone up, urging Apple to make an audit of their factories, which they have started.  Then last week, TAL issued a retraction of their original story, saying that the source of their material (a one-man show by a guy named Mike Daisey) had numerous discrepancies. To wit, Daisey had lied about several details in his show, some more egregious than others.  TAL is doing an entire show dedicated to retracting the first podcast, and to separate the lies from the truth.  

I think TAL has acted honorably in their retraction, and they acknowledge that although they fact checked as much as they could have before broadcasting the story initially, there were holes that should have made them shelve it.  Examining what's been written about the whole debacle, it seems most people have come down on the side of TAL, and feel that Daisey should have been more forthcoming about his material and how he secured it.  The sad thing is that there are many objectionable practices going on in factories like Foxconn, things that can be independently verified by watchdog and humanitarian organizations.  Unfortunately, these stories get overshadowed when people (Daisey) embellish their reports.  Some argue that snafus like this can even hinder US-China relations, allowing China to shake a finger at the US media for smearing them with biased stories.   

What I find really galling is Daisey's response to these revelations.  He says he regrets allowing TAL to air his story under the guise of journalism, but that he stands by its accuracy.  He claims that the standards of theatre are not the same as those of journalism, making his embellishments art, not lies.  This seems disingenuous to me, to put out a chronological narrative, to characterize these moments as actual events, and then when caught having fabricated details, say that fictional liberties were taken in the pursuit of raising awareness through art. I'm going to let Mike Daisey have the last word on this, in a quote from his act that turned out to be true: "And she [Cathy, his interpreter in China] says, you will lie to them [the factories]. And I say, yes Cathy, I'm going to lie to lots of people."

"I GUESS YOU ARE AMERICAN"

Japan celebrates the vernal equinox with a national holiday, which this year fell on March 20th　(also my uncle's birthday!  Happy Birthday, Uncle Stu).  Instead of going forth to learn more about Japan, I chose to make the two hour slog to my new Mecca: Costco.  En route, Bearded AL made the comment that he disparages bulk foods outfits like Costco and Sam's Club in the States.  They are, he argues, a symptom of what's wrong with the country: gross consumerism, wastefulness, rant rant rant.  However, 2 minutes into Costco, and all his qualms were forgotten.  Applying for membership was fairly painless, save for having to watch countless carts of Kettle potato chips, sheet cakes, rolls, and other sundries pass by.  The line was predominantly made up of Japanese people, although there was a Peruvian family and another Western couple waiting as well.  We traded knowing smiles with one another, as if to say, "Yes, this is where we belong, isn't it?" When we crossed the threshold with our new cards, I suddenly felt as though I loved everyone in the world.

We made an excellent decision to eat lunch in the Costco cafeteria before shopping.  The cafeteria was mobbed; people were literally squatting on the floor, eating their food.  I took comfort in the American decor: concrete floors, stainless steel relish and onion dispensers, the floor littered with dropped bits of food and spilled liquids.  At first it was hard to decide what to order: pizza or a hot dog? There was also a bulgoki option, but that seemed like sacrilege at Costco.  I opted for a giant slice of New York-style pizza, the kind that you have to fold in half to eat, but only after you let some of the grease drop off and pool on your plate.  One slice of pizza was $3.  The western-sized soda cups (with free refills!) were $1.*** We bought our lunches, walked 3 feet from the register, sat down on the cold Costco floor, and devoured every last morsel.  And then got a refill.  Then there was a quick stop at the toilets.  More joy ensued.  All the toilets were western-style! There was soap at the sinks [not a given in Japan]! The faucets gushed warm water [all water here is cold, to save on heating costs]!!  All of this augured well for the rest of the Costco experience.    

The next hour and a half passed quickly and incomprehensibly.  Things, so many things!, were thrown into the cart for purchase.  There were victories (bagels!) and failures (no pie or baking mixes).  We ran into Brendon, the English-speaking manager, who told us that if we had difficulty finding anything, we should let him know, and he would tell us why they didn't have it.  We debated over how many things we could load ourselves down with and still make the 30 minute walk back to the train station.  We giggled like children over pasta sauce, cereal, and hot cocoa powder.  And finally, we were done.  We grabbed one last refill and hobbled to the station, still high on Costco adrenaline.  But we'll be back.  Next time with a giant roller bag.       

Gone, but not forgotten

 ***A few things to put into perspective: first, a Japanese medium size drink is the equivalent of a western small.  A small, personal-sized pizza is typically $15.  A can of coke from a vending machine is $2.  

BESAME MUCHO

The plum blossoms are here!

This title for this week's post goes out to the third year student who asked me to kiss him.  Apparently becoming a high school senior makes you both cocky and delusional.  A few days later I was treated to the attentions of a different student, who gave me his business card.  Never having owned business cards of my own, I felt a little out-classed by this 17 year-old.  Not to mention the fact that the last time a male gave me his card under an amorous pretext, he was about 26, and the card featured a clipart cartoon of Homer Simpson kicking a soccer ball.  

YOU'VE GOT A FRIEND IN ME

The BBC's website recently featured an interesting article on the ways in which people in Japan pay money for companionship and connection with another (not necessarily living) being.  The rented friends run a gamut, from playing with cats or dogs at a cafe, to single mothers who pay men to act as surrogate fathers.  These dads-for-hire help children with homework, take them on outings, mediate disputes with neighbors, and even pose with the moms as a happy couple for school interviews.  To me, this has all trappings of a potential Hollywood romcom: unemployed male meets hardworking single mom and falls in love with her and her offspring.  It's only time before Harvey Weinstein picks this one up and starts production.

Then there are the more salacious encounters, not all of which are sexual.  Some men employ women as hostesses at dinner, to provide conversation, flattery, and an empathetic ear.  Prostitution and escort services do of course exist, but flesh and blood partners are not a requisite for sexual gratification.  In fact, some popular Japanese fetishes include life-like plastic dolls, and even body pillows (as seen on a great episode of 30 Rock, featuring James Franco as a celebrity with a secret passion for his body pillow girlfriend, Komiko).  Stay tuned for a future post on other Japanese fetishes, which can be anything from creepy to hilarious to flat-out disgusting.

Despite ample opportunities for human interaction, particularly in urban areas, many people here still feel isolated and alone.  This may be a result of overwork limiting the amount of time people have to socialize, or an intrinsic shyness that pervades society.  A finger can also be pointed at technology, where cell phones, video games, online chatting, and anime (Japanese cartoons) take the place of face-to-face conversation, and cause people to become withdrawn, awkward, and in extreme cases can even lead to death.  Regardless of the causes, the fact that some people are so lonely that they have to pay in order to pretend they have a pet breaks my hardened heart.  Even The Grinch had Max!  

I'm pretty sure that heaven is redolent with the smell of plum blossoms

WE'RE REDNECKS, WE'RE REDNECKS...

When I first got to Japan, I received an invitation to a prefectural event.  Under "location" was written, "We'll meet at the yanki Lawson's and walk over from there."  Apparently there are two Lawson's stores in this small town, one of which is a major meeting place for the yankis.  Lawson's is a popular convenience store chain, like 7-11, but I had no idea what a yanki Lawson's was.  Yanki is a word based on the English word "yankee," and refers to a certain kind of Japanese subculture that's fairly common in my prefecture.  As the grannies in my adult English conversation group put it,  "They have their hair dyed, pierced ears.  They wear glittery things.  They look very flashy. They are also very young."  Another granny piped up, "Like hooligans!" An American equivalent would be the cast of "Jersey Shore," if they all rode motorcycles and hung out at convenience stores. 

At graduation this year, I had an opportunity to observe grown up yankis.  The father was dressed very nattily in a tightly tailored three piece suit.  He looked like a stockbroker, until you looked closer and saw his triple pierced ears and the heavy steel wallet chain that snaked down the side of his pants.  Then there was the mother, who had dyed her hair auburn, caked her face in makeup, and could barely see out of her thick, fake caterpillar-like eyelashes.  She sat for most of the ceremony trying to navigate her iPhone to take pictures, a process made difficult by her horrifically long nails, which had been filed into claws.  (I saw a woman with a similar manicure on the train the other day, and lived in fear of the moment that she might skewer the sweet and perfect baby who was strapped to her front.)  However, in some ways it's true that people are the same the world over, and when this couple's daughter walked by in the graduation procession, Yanki Papa leaped up with the camera and started taking photos, while mom waved proudly.  

 

ONE YEAR LATER

March 11, 2012 marks the one year anniversary of the giant earthquake and tsunami that devastated the Tohoku region of Japan.  Twelve months later, the situation is still pretty grim.  Over the past year, thousands of volunteers have come to help clear out the area and take the first steps in restoring homes, businesses and infrastructure.   Though a great deal of progress has been made in rehabilitating the area, recovery has proved elusive.  The local economy has stagnated as most of the working population, particularly those in their 20s-40s, have moved elsewhere in order to find jobs.  This made for a particularly difficult winter for the elderly population, who have been forced to fend for themselves, not just in putting their homes to right, but also in dealing with the snow and foul weather.  

There are a number of words bandied about in connection with the tsunami.  Denizens of Tohoku were praised for their gaman (forbearance), as they stoically went about putting their lives back together.  The disaster also created a national sense of kizuna, or bond.  Several people have told me that the quake reaffirmed for the country the importance of family and solidarity.  The most prevalent word, however, has been "Gambatte!" Gambatte is a bit difficult to translate.  The Japanese think of it as "Do your best," though I think there's an undercurrent of "Good luck!" as well.  Precise definitions aside, this is the word that most irks people in Tohoku, many of whom are sick of words and are looking for action, like assistance with practical tasks such as disposing of debris, reconstruction, etc.  

Perhaps the most prominent Japan-related story in the news has been the nuclear power plant at Fukushima. The plant continues to grapple with unstable reactors, sinister radiation levels, and the question of what could happen in the case of another earthquake or tsunami. However, the greatest danger may be TEPCO, a utility company that controls electric power in the greater Tokyo area, and owns and administrates the Fukushima Daiichi plant. Jake Adelstein, an American journalist who has gained great notoriety in Japan and elsewhere for his coverage of the yakuza (Japanese mob), writes that there has been a push within the government to nationalize Fukushima Daiichi and wrest it from the control of TEPCO. Their concern lies not in a fear of an imminent meltdown, but rather TEPCO's cozy ties with the yakuza. It seems that a number of yakuza associates are currently employed at the plant, and as one senator of the Diet said, "TEPCO's involvement with anti-social forces and their inability to filter them out of the work-place is a national security issue. It is one reason that increasingly in the Diet we are talking de facto nationalization of the company. Nuclear energy shouldn't be in the hands of the yakuza. They're gamblers and an intelligent person doesn't want them to have atomic dice to play with." There don't seem to be any immediate plans to nationalize Fukushima Daiichi, but we'll see what the next year brings.     

HOW TO MAKE TOFU

March is a month-long hiatus from classes, although teachers are still required to come to work as usual.  This week some of the staff decided to kick off the break by making tofu from scratch.  Wildest spring break ever.  I was conscripted into service for several hours; making tofu is time-consuming, but remarkably easy.  You leave dried soy beans to soak overnight, and then the next day, stick them in a blender with some water, and juice them until you have soy milk.  You boil the milk, and then place the fluid in a cotton bag (like a pillow case, for example).  Squeeze the milk from the bag, leaving a hefty amount of soy sediment behind.  "I've never milked a cow before, but this is what I imagine it would be like," said one of the teachers.  Put the milk back on the stove and bring it to a boil again.  Then turn off the heat, and take a slotted spoon and sift through the milk to find the soy curd.  This is your tofu.  Put the curds inside a cloth in a square wooden box, and allow this to sit in cold water for several hours and solidify.  Then, presto: tofu!

The remarkable thing about this process was that nothing was let go to waste.  The soy sediment is used in soups, and the last dregs of the soy milk were drunk in large mugs.  The Japanese make the Native Americans look wasteful.

Soy milk

Ladle into bags

Tofu!

APROPOS OF NOTHING

For all my fellow word nerds, the OED has an article on the Japanese words that are becoming mainstream in English. The biggest surprise? Tycoon!

CONGRATS, CLASS OF 2012

Today marked the official end of the school year, and the graduation ceremony for our third year class. The event was quite a do; the gym was decorated with flowers, golden screens, and a red carpet.  All the teachers were turned out in their nicest suits.  The principal even wore a morning suit.  I had a number of questions about the affair, which I later posed to my adult English conversation group, affectionately dubbed "the grannies."  The conversation that followed was an interesting discussion on nationalism in Japan, Japanese rednecks, and square dancing.

It started with an observation I made about the Japanese national anthem, which I had never heard before.  The song is very short, and sung slowly and in a low octave, so that it sounds more like a dirge than a jingoistic jingle.  Called "Kimigayo," it is essentially an ode to the emperor.  Translated, it says:

May the reign of the Emperor
continue for a thousand, nay, eight thousand generations
and for the eternity that it takes
for small pebbles to grow into a great rock
and become covered with moss.

The subject of the emperor made me segue to another question concerning a trivia game a fellow ALT had made up for one of her classes.  One of the answers was the name of the emperor.  Her teacher told her later that they were not allowed to mention or discuss the emperor in class, that it was "too nationalistic."  When I asked the grannies why this was the case, they launched into a long explanation involving the end of WWII and the rise of communism.  Like many countries, Japan has a trinity of national symbols: a leader (traditionally, the emperor), an anthem (Kimigayo, an ode to the emperor), and a flag (hinomaru).  The red dot of the Japanese flag symbolizes the sun, but that also is associated with the emperor, who is considered the descendant of the god, and the Japanese are the chosen people of god.  With me so far? However, for many people, this trifecta is not a benevolent one, particularly following WWII, when the Japanese brutally invaded parts of eastern Asia (mainly China and Korea), and left some lasting scars.  As Beatles granny put it: "Japan's flag, and the anthem, and the emperor are symbolic figures of imperialism." This led to some dark associations for many Chinese and Koreans, but for some Japanese as well.  In Okinawa, for example, the flag is a reminder of WWII and the subsequent establishment of the US military on the island (which Okinawans despise).  Some people, including many within the teachers union in Japan, are communists who object to the emperor on political grounds, and therefore refuse to honor the national flag or sing the country's anthem. Thus, these symbols have become a major source of contention at schools and within Japanese society as a whole, to a point where it is unusual to see the Japanese flag flown in places other than government buildings.  When I told the grannies that one of my neighbors flies two flags during national holidays, they were taken aback, and told me this was very unusual.  One granny told me that 25 years ago, there was a scuffle in her town when a communist teacher lowered the flag at school. Riot police had to be called out, and the children were forced to stay home for several days until tensions cooled.   

At one point, we veered off into talking about school dances, and they wanted to know what kinds of steps people are taught in the United States.  We talked a little about ballroom dancing, but I acknowledged that most people don't really know how to ballroom dance.  "There is something called square dancing, though," I said, "Which is mainly done in the South, but it's a fun way for lots of people to dance together to the same steps."  Some of my grannies started reminiscing about their elementary school days, when they were taught how to folk dance.  I asked them what folk dancing in Japan looks like, and High Tech Granny started to perform a search on her iPad.  "Do you know the Oklahoma song?" another asked.  "Like the musical Oklahoma?" I responded.  "Mmm...it goes [starts humming 'Turkey in the Hay']."  High Tech Granny then pulled up the following video, which left me speechless for several seconds:

Finally, all I could get out was, "But...that's...they're SQUARE DANCING!" It was a perfect moment of cultural exchange and minds blown.  How square dancing became a fad in Japan, we may never know.  But it's a beautiful thing.