Yamabushido Newsletter
The next edition of the Yamabushido Newsletter Lessons From Mountains that I’m currently writing will come out later tonight. It’s a doozy. If you like reading this stuff, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.
Now onto the article, but first up,
I need to get this out of the way:
Why Japan Has Tofu Exams But No Lifeguard Standards
Yesterday we went to the beach.
I was surprised by a few things. For starters,
it was free!
Normally, after Emperor on a Boat Day, beaches in Japan have a parking warden. Someone to charge you money for parking on what is, until Emperor on a Boat Day at least, free. Until then, the parking wardens obediently stay in their little mole holes and plan elaborate schemes to relieve you of your money (like those pesky parking wardens in Wellington).
This beach though? No need to worry about that. There was no gatekeeper. No fee. Just sprawling ocean as far as the eye can see.
Well, that and a company gate and grounds you have to drive through to get there. Maybe that’s why it was free.
Still, it felt oddly liberating,
until I saw the lifeguard.
A man clearly past his prime. Mid-50s, potbelly, sunburnt like a boiled lobster. Not exactly Baywatch material. And judging by the lack of jet skis or rescue gear, I don’t think he’s saving many lives by swimming. But maybe I’m being harsh. Maybe he’s secretly a Koi in disguise.
Still,
I wouldn’t bet my life on it.
There was one hilariously Japanese part though. A family started climbing on the rocks just outside the designated swimming ropes.
While in New Zealand, we’d yell something like,
“Oi, get off the rocks!”
in Japan you get an overweight1 bright-red lifeguard reading a scripted speech over the loudspeakers.
Talk about passive aggressive.
But it worked!
The family quickly dispersed. Then a few minutes later, the lifeguard finished his speech.
Until, around 4:45 p.m., when another broadcast came on, also clearly scripted:
“The lifeguard will be finishing their duties at 5:00 p.m. Please take care when swimming after this time.”
Speaking of, this might surprise you.
I’m a yamabushi (山伏）, a mountain ascetic. The yama (山) means mountain (look at the shape). The bushi (伏) is from fuseru, which means to promulgate or to be on all fours (the character is ‘man’ and ‘dog’, care to guess why?).
A yamabushi is therefore ‘one who promulgates in the mountains’.
That’s not the surprising part. The surprising part is that despite being a mountain ascetic,
my first love is water.
The ocean, the pool, rivers, to this day I swim regularly. I especially love going out into the waves and bodysurfing. That, and waterpolo of course. A sport I played for, oh,
ten or so years.
I even got third place in New Zealand three times. Never could quite make the final. There’s probably a metaphor in that somewhere.
Anyway, you may as well call me The Kiwi Umibushi,
one who promulgates in the ocean.
(Or The Kiwi Yamafishy?)
Such is my love of water that when I was in high school I worked as a lifeguard at a few local pools. I have very fond memories of those days; eating fish and chips while watching older women doing aquarobics, jumping off the walkway that hung from the ceiling instead of the purpose-built diving board, turning the water off and going down the aptly called Zoom Tube waterslide2 on our knees for maximum speed…
the list goes on.
But there was one time I had to work.
At lifeguard training they drilled it into us that we were lifeguards not lifesavers.
Huge difference.
Well, one day I was a lifesaver.
This little kid, probably only 8 years old, had gone down the waterslide and realised that he probably couldn’t swim after all. Once I realised he wasn’t joking I jumped in to get him out,
clothes, shoes, and all.
I’ll always remember this because the kid just walked off without saying a thing.
He probably went home still wondering why I was all wet!
Now, don’t get me wrong, I love the lifeguards at my local pool here in Sakata. Mr. Konno in particular is a delightful man who apparently taught himself how to swim in his 50s. He also works completely unironically as a parking warden at a local tourist attraction.
Let’s be honest though, most of the lifeguards here are probably past their prime. Things only get better, or worse, in summer after Emperor on a Boat Day when the 50m outdoor pool opens and they need more bodies on duty.
I just wish they wouldn’t choose the men in their 60s and 70s who swim with me. Sure, they can swim, maybe not quite at former-waterpolo-player-from-New-Zealand-level,
but still.
Not who you want sprinting to save you mid-drown.
Let’s give them a break though. Being a lifeguard isn’t exactly thrilling. We used to rotate our stations every 15 minutes or so just to stay sane, and even then it can get pretty boring.
To make matters worse, in Japan they have that age-old tradition of nodding off wherever they fancy. You know the one,
居眠り Inemuri: the Japanese art of sleeping on the job.
(add that to your Japan reading list)
I’m not sure if this is still the case, but in the past it was socially acceptable to sleep on the job, something about dedication or something.
At the very least this was true for Mrs. Sato ten-odd years ago when I worked at Amarume Junior High School, the English teacher, not the science one, and in the teacher’s office, not mid-lesson, that would be too overt a display of dedication even for a Japanese person.
Needless to say, on more than one occasion, I have spotted the lifeguards at my local pool doing a bit of inemuri.
Yes. On the job.
