05/11 - Hoodlum

We don’t take kindly,

to your ilk ’round these parts,

now take off, ya hear! 

Today I encountered my first real difficulty since coming to Japan. While I did get lost yesterday for a while, it really wasn’t a big deal. Today however…oh boy!

In the morning I set off with Luke and Tim, two other teachers who live in my complex. We all wanted to join a gym, and luckily there was one suitable one, though only one, nearby. Luke had found it and checked it out, and everything looked great. So with Tim’s Japanese abilities to help us, we arrived and began registering. Even with Tim’s quality skills, the entire registration process took over 70 minutes. Lots of paperwork, including writing our names in katakana (the Japanese syllabary used for foreign words) four times. We didn’t even try writing out our addresses in kanji, but luckily the lady assisting us was super helpful and nice, so she did it for us. After the 70 minute sign-up I was ready for a nap, but I headed upstairs to workout. I was the first up, so I had to tell the employees to wait for Tim. “Nihongo” I said and pointed at him, letting them know he’d be the one to speak Japanese. We had to hand in a card that said it was our first time, and they gave us some more information, such as how to write how long you’ll be on a machine for on a whiteboard. After, the three of us hopped onto a treadmill and went for a little warmup run. Finally! After six or so minutes, I headed over to the one squat rack to do some hang cleans. I did a warmup set and then was adding some weight. As I did, I noticed an employee, one of the guys that showed us around, talking to a trainer who was spotting an older fella doing some bench presses. The employee then pointed and ran downstairs. Wow, I thought, something must be important. I didn’t think anymore of it and began my second set of hang cleans. After I finished, I again began to add some more weight, when I saw Tim approaching me with the employee. “He says there’s a problem with your t—.” I couldn’t make out the last word Tim said, but I thought it was technique. Shit, they probably don’t want me hang-cleaning since they don’t have power lifting platforms I thought. That sucks. But that wasn’t the issue. Tim had said they had a problem with my tattoo. I quickly offered to cover it up, asking if I could borrow some scissors, cut my sock, and cover the offending small birds inked onto my calf. Tim spoke with the man some more. Turns out, everything was not possible. I couldn’t just cover it up. I couldn’t go home and come back another day wearing pants. I was not allowed to be a member of the gym at all. I got kicked out. Luke, Tim and I had to head back downstairs, grab our stuff, and go back to the desk we had already spent 70+ minutes at. They refunded the full membership fees I had paid, and in their credit, the membership fees of Luke and Tim as well. I told them they could stay, but in an amazing show of solidarity they opted to leave with me. Never before in my life have I been denied membership somewhere. Or more accurately, been given membership then having it taken away almost immediately. I feel like Groucho Marx, who once said “I DON’T WANT TO BELONG TO ANY CLUB THAT WILL ACCEPT PEOPLE LIKE ME AS A MEMBER!” On the bright side, I did get to take a picture of my membership card, with the awesome picture I posed for, before they swiped it back off me.

If this story sounds extra bizarre to you, it is important to note that tattoos are not generally considered very acceptable in Japan. The main reason is that tattoos have always been associated with the Yakuza, so they have connotations of organized crime and unsavoury individuals. I have been told that in major urban centres it is acceptable to show your tattoos while working out at some gyms, especially public ones, however in private clubs it is generally not ok for members to have tattoos. In onsen, Japanese hot springs, it is also very common for people to have to cover their tattoos.  Attitudes are definitely changing, and some younger people can be seen with visible tattoos walking around. Adding to my surprise today was the fact that the day before in Yoyogi Park I was actually taken aback at how many of the white people walking around had tattoos. It seemed like it was around 80%.

If you don’t know about my tattoo, it is three black birds in a triangle shape, with some blue and yellow detailing. The concept comes from a family crest for my last name, and is intended to represent everyone in my family, or that I consider family. Far from threatening.

After that experience, I did have a nice afternoon around Tokorozawa. I met my friend Masa, who lives nearby, and he showed me around. He even drove me around in his family’s Prius. At least some locals like me!