Lunching with a yokozuna -
"Are you going to eat that?"

In the Dewanoumi stable in the heart of Sakai, a number of sumo wrestlers have just finished their training and are carrying out chores. These practices are not undertaken to simply produce a clean surface but the motions appear to be ritualistic, drawn out ways of doing simple tasks; much like the Karate Kid wax-on-wax-off training method of discipline and routine. In a large open kitchen, in a room annexed to the training ring (dohyo), a number of wre- stlers (rikishi) stand in their boxer shorts or sumo belts (mawashi) and help themselves to breakfast, each cooking his own food. They eat with the desperate fervour and urgency of those who have little time to spare to enjoy a meal. Outside the kitchen, around 30 crates of empty beer bottles stand stacked up against the wall, an essential weight gaining tool of the sumo-san.

Hakuho, one of the current two rikishi with the highest ranking title of yokozuna, is housed near the Miyagino stable (heya) training grounds. A rather nice car is sitting unlocked on the road, most probably belonging to one of his sponsors. Entering the large tatami-matted dining area it is instantly apparent who the star is. Hakuho is the conspicuous centre of attention at a round table and is of a size very distinguishable from those around him. Incongruously donning a powder blue all-in-one, sitting with his legs bent inward in front of him like a baby, he couldn't have looked any more prominent amongst those around him. This was probably the most clothing I have ever seen Hakuho wearing, only having seen him at tournaments prior to this meeting, and yet there is a feeling shared between his visitors that he is sitting in his underwear and someone should go and fetch him a dressing gown.

A space is quickly made by his side and the playful Hakuho pats the cushion next to him, presenting his huge, strong hand for a good Western-style greeting. "Sorry, I can't speak English but my sister is pera-pera, fluent in English. She spent a number of years studying in London with her boyfriend who was working there", he said. "I haven't been to the UK yet but I'll visit next year for the first time during an exhibition tour in London. I'm looking forward to it."

An extra bowl is placed on the table and Hakuho urges me to try some of his chanko fare, which I do with much enthusiasm. The food is of course delicious, the beef tender, the nabe surpri- singly quite healthy-looking, containing only meat and greens. Many other choice morsels of meat, vegetables and fish lay on the table top in communal bowls and the sponsors are heartily digging into them all. This meal is a far cry from the simple carbohydrate-loaded, stand up breakfast that I had witnessed earlier in the morning at the training stables.

Hakuho eats with good table manners, taking his time over his meal but eating in an unceasing flow, only breaking from his continuous feeding to sign pictures for fans and to answer ques- tions. A very cheerful chap, he sings to himself in Japanese while helping himself to ladlefuls of nabe.

He happily teaches his guests some Mongolian during the meal, dipping beef into the nabe pot: "Shabu-shabu", he explains, refe- rring to a hotpot dish similar to chanko nabe, means "faster, faster" in Mongolian. "When eating shabu-shabu style in Japan you've got to take the meat out fast and you must not allow it to simmer, so it's easy for you to remember the Mongolian meaning, too. Do it ‘shabu-shabu'- quickly, quickly take the meat out of the pot!"

Hakuho's father, Jigjid Mankhbat, won a silver medal in free- style wrestling at the 1968 Summer Olympics. It was this early influence that sparked his interest in sumo. Very quickly climbing the ranks, he was honoured with the title of the 69th yokozuna, the third youngest to reach the highest rank. Unbelievably, Hakuho, now a good, sturdy 155kg, came to Japan from his home country, Mongolia, a meagre 62kg in October 2000 and debuted at the 2001 spring meet.

"I came to Japan at the age of 16. I feel I've been here in Japan so long now that Mongolia is a little troublesome for me to live in compared to Japan. Life is easier here. But there is an upcoming exhibition tournament in Mongolia in August this year. I'm really looking forward to participating in this. It'll be a great feeling to do sumo in my home country."

Just as Hakuho carried on in his father's wrestling footsteps he would love his legacy to carry on too. A proud family man with a young daughter, it is unlikely that he would expect her to follow in his large, heavy footsteps. "If I have a son in the future it would be a great honour if he were to become a rikishi as I have."

As a Yokozuna, Hakuho is privilege to luxuries that the lower rikishi are not, but there are still strict rules to follow. As someone who is consistently under the spotlight, he is expected to set a good example to those wishing to climb the ranks. "There are two things I can't do during the tournament - drink alcohol and have sex." It is suggested to him that the abstinence will at least give him something to look forward to after the excitement of the tournament is over. "Hmm ... I enjoy nights," he says in a serious tone. "But sumo is much better!" At this point his spon- sors all roar with laughter.

Sumo life is a feudal affair, with the trainee rikishi living a tough existence competing to gain some of the benefits the champions enjoy. The trainees sleep in dormitories, practice together and live communally in a traditional lifestyle that is much the same as the life of a rikishi many years ago. Sumo is a way of life which leaves little room for anonymity in modern Japan as all participants are considered role models all year round. Even outside tournament season they can be severely scolded if they are found wearing anything but the distinctive clothing of custom.

Considered part of a family they must strive to earn privileges and prestige in a strict meritocracy system. And since there are only seventy salaried professional rikishi in the top two divisions, the competition is extremely high, each man grappling to get to the higher ranks.

When asked if he has put any thought into what he would like to do on his retirement from sumo, he laughs and exclaims he's never thought about it as he is far from retired. His manager presents him with various gifts from fans including a very deco- rative belated birthday cake and was cut a hearty slice for dessert. It was only then that I realised that Hakuho, who had just turned 23 during day three of the tournament, is still such a young man, and now, close up, it is very easy to see his youth.

Even with a back injury Hakuho's consummate skill in the dohyo gives him the confidence of a man years beyond his age.

He has recently been accused of acquiring an arrogant stagger as he throws his opponents and saunters out of the ring. This is the well earned walk of a man who has long stared into the faces of many opponents and seen the countenance of men who feign boldness but hide the fear of probable defeat.

For the duration of our lunch together, Hakuho proved to be extremely self-assured, yet playful, friendly and good-natured. My newfound respect for those who participate in this traditional sport has generated in me a great interest in the sumo world and I can definitely say that I am now an avid fan. Spending the day witnessing some gruelling training, duties and frightening tourna- ment throws and landings, the immense pain, hardship and dedication the rikishi commit themselves to on entering a heya were impressed on me. The former Yokozuna Kusashimaru summed up his experience in Japan's wrestling world perfectly when he used the all-encompassing, simple statement: "Sumo hurts."

Text & photos: Anne Race