Summary post of my Far East Wrestling adventure

I'm back at my desk in Tokyo. I tried to blog while I was away, but it was really difficult. Not technically difficult (I had WiFi access most of the time), but people-difficult. To write, I need not just time, but people-free time. The trip was people-intensive.

I wish I'd written earlier, because now I've stored up way too much to write for one blog post. So, I think I'll try to write a short summary now and also post a longer, more detailed post for those who want more details. I suspect there will be a third post in the next day or two that is more reflective.

Wednesday 

My travelling companions at the airport in Korea.

We travelled. Roughly two hours for each segment of the trip: two hours (three trains) to the airport, two getting through the airport, two in the air, two in Incheon airport, and two on a bus and then walking to our hotel. We left at 8.15am and got to our hotel at 7. I slept badly the night before, so did all this on about 4 ½ hrs sleep.


Thursday
The start of the Far East wrestling tournament. "Far East" is a US military term. This is a regional competition for their base schools, though historically our school and a couple of others have been invited to also participate. 15 schools from Japan and Korea competed this year.

Dinner on Thursday night. Yum!

Our son had only two wrestles this day, one fairly easy, the second more difficult but not heart wrenching. What was difficult to watch were others who didn't wrestle as well as they could have, or were simply outmatched. Of our nine wresters, three were knocked out of the individual competition this day.

We went to dinner with the team each night of the competition. It was a fabulous part of the trip, two of the team were Korean, so organised the restaurants. Really fun hanging out with the team and coach socially too! These guys can eat!

Each night my fellow wrestling-mum roommate and I talked via FaceTime with her husband and our three boys that had remained in Tokyo. They seemed to weather the week okay.

Friday
This was the hardest day of wrestling for me. Late morning our son had his semifinal. He levelled the score in the last 10 seconds to tie  6-6. But he won the match, because the other guy had "fled" the mat during the bout (with our son hanging on to one of his legs), which is against the rules. 

This match left me shaking.

This is the bout that left me in need of oxygen.

The guy who lost to him is the same one who he's wrestled more than a dozen times in the last two years. Most times they've been hard fought matches, though he's only bested our son twice and that was last year, he's pushed our son hard.

That match left me a mess until the final four hours later. In the meantime we had lunch (or I tried to eat lunch) and the loser of the semi had to wrestle one more time to decide who would face our son in the final.

The final was somewhat of a let-down. It was the same guy he'd wrestled in the semi, but the wind seemed to have been taken out of his sails. Our son won 10-0.

I didn't cry. But I did feel a profound sense of relief. It was like a dream.

The second part of the tournament began, it was a team competition (though there was a team element to the individual competition too). This was team vs team. Our school seeded first, so got a bye in the first round and didn't have to wrestle on Friday afternoon.

Osan is the name of the US airforce base. South of Seoul. This building
is where we spent our days. US bases aren't very pretty, though. All their
buildings are pretty drab.
The area outside the base was also very drab plus dirty.

Saturday
The dual meet continued and our team met, and easily defeated two teams on our way to the final. The final, however, was a different story. The team we met was not as good as ours, but had a full line-up (wrestlers in all 13 weight categories) compared to our team, which was four wresters short of a full complement due to illness, injury, and a lack of team members (almost no students at CAJ are as heavy as 215lb [97.5kg] or heavier, so our teams often lack the top two weight categories).

It was a hard fought dual where they only beat us twice in bouts where we had wrestlers to face up to them, but we tied in points at the end. The tie-breaker was the fact that we had had to forfeit four matches and they walked away with the title. There are many what-ifs here and many of the guys were beating themselves up. It really is something to see a team of tough wrestlers in tears.

The awards were many, and it was great to see all our wrestlers with at least two medals around their necks. The team won first place in the individual tournament in our smaller schools division and got silver for the dual meet. We had two Far East Champions (our son was one), one third and three fourths too.

Thankfully we were also able to go out as a group again later and have some fun. But it was very cold to wander the streets, we didn't stay out all that long.


Sunday

The cup of coffee that saved me on Sunday afternoon.

With everything over barring the travel, we got to theoretically sleep-in this morning. I still woke at 6, though that was better than many of the days beforehand. A former CAJ mum picked us up and took us to lunch an hour away with another former CAJ mum, both Korean. So we were treated to some more delightful, but hot, Korean food. 

But I was so tired. If I was prone to falling asleep vertically I could easily have done so during lunch. Not only had my sleep been messed up with all the emotion, my digestion too. I've not been able to eat much during the last week and I simply could hardly make an impression on this large dish that we were given. It was embarrassing, but there was nothing I could do about it.

We flew out close to 6pm, and didn't get home until after 11pm. Everyone was in bed/asleep when I got home. Thankfully David and the team had arrived a couple of hours earlier and he was able to get our younger two boys home and into bed.

If you'd like to know more of the details, check out this post.

I can't keep calm, I'm a wrestling mum

This is about where I'm at right now.

It's probably good for everyone that I'm actually taking my crazy self away with other people who are crazy about wrestling. It's just safer that way. I'll overdose on it and, hopefully, get it out of my system for this season. Then proceed next week to start getting my life back on some kind of normal keel again.

I'm leaving on a train tomorrow morning (Wednesday) for the airport and Korea. I'm not taking my computer, so I won't be doing a lot of blogging, while I can blog from my phone when I have WiFi at night time, I don't expect that that I'll be typing a lot on that little screen. We'll see how it goes. Maybe a some short, photo-heavy posts.

Then we'll be back on Sunday evening after what I hope is a wonderful adventure laying down life-long memories.

Independent Missionaries

I'm excited about the latest issue of Japan Harvest magazine that we've posted out today. It highlights a group of the missionary force in Japan that can be easily missed: independent missionaries.

Here's a sample of my editorial:

I love the cover. It is of one of our authors, who is an
independent missionary. Her husband works for a
company in Japan. I met her through OMF, they
have an informal connection with OMF called
"OMF Friends".What's even more exciting about the
cover is that I commissioned it from a professional
photographer, who happens to be a missionary and a
friend in the CAJ community. I'm hoping that this is
something we can continue to do.

During the process of getting this issue into print, I've communicated with several people who could be considered independent missionaries. I've discovered that it is a wide category ranging from tentmakers (people working full-time in secular jobs) to people working with a mission here without a supporting mission  from their passport country. In the middle are people who are supported from outside Japan and also work here part-time to supplement their support. There are also couples where one person is fully employed by a company (Japanese or otherwise) and the other is engaged in full- or part-time Christian work.

Independent missionaries make up more than 11% of the JEMA (Japan Evangelical Missionary Association), the association that publishes this magazine and represents about 900 of the Protestant, evangelical missionaries in Japan. It was fantastic to gather articles from these folk and hear their voices, which differ from the main-line missionary/mission voices. But also to consider how we, in traditional mission organisations, can reach out and help these independent missionaries better.

We also included a new "column" called Voice of Experience, it is by missionaries who've been in Japan more than 20 years, giving advice to those who've been here for less than that. It will be interesting to see how that pans out over time. It is not written by one person, but, like the New Voices "column" (by those who've been in Japan less than five years) the contributors are different (almost) every time.

Plus there is a member survey, seeking to find out more about our readers and what they'd like to see in future magazines. I'm looking forward to seeing how the results of that compare to the last time I oversaw a JH survey, five years ago.

Alas, as I've looked through it just now, somewhat briefly, I've already found two errors! An editor's nightmare, but occupational hazard. Maybe I'll stop looking at it now.

Adrenaline-filled day

 

Moments before the end as our son (on top) tipped his opponent over onto
his back and pinned him chest-to-chest.

Well yesterday proved to be even more adrenaline filled than I'd anticipated. 

I'd started the day reasonably calm (for me on a wrestling day), but my digestive system was telling me otherwise.

I know that anything can happen at these events. Anyone can be beaten, but then it was happening before my eyes. The first surprise was seeing our son's usual main rival beaten by another guy late morning in his semi-final, meaning the final would be different to what I'd envisaged. Adrenaline built from there and I really hardly ate all day.

The Outstanding Wrestler trophy is huge. Six kilos!

Then around 4pm they turned the main lights down and put the spotlights on the main mat. Loud, heart-thumping music played as they dramatically introduced the guys who'd be competing in the final bouts of the thirteen weight classes. 

I got very restless and couldn't sit in the stands. I stood on the side, in the shadows. Our son, at 158 pounds (~72kg), is in the fifth-heaviest weight category and therefore had to wait a while as they started from the lightest wrestlers (101 pounds/ ~45kg).

Many of the finals before his were dramatic, hard-fought bouts. Most of them between the two top schools: St Mary's International (also hosts and with a large amount of loud, home support) and Kinnick High School (Yokosuka US Air Base) who also were very loud in their support. 

Our son's bout was against a St. Mary's wrestler. The rivalry is great between St Mary's and Kinnick, and I suspect that we had some from Kinnick shouting for our son as a win by our team was in their favour (we aren't a threat to them in the team-stakes).

In any case, I was very nervous. I mentioned to my two wrestler-mum friends who sat with me beside the mat that I was worried I would embarrass myself.

It really is a bit of a blur now. But he came "out of the blocks" blazing and it was all over in under two minutes. I yelled. I screamed. After it was over I jumped. I cried. I hugged. 

I also managed to get my finger stuck on the shutter button of my iPhone and took 29 photos of nothing but blur.

Our school's other wrestler in the finals was straight after our son, so I sat by and cheered him. He was also victorious. More celebrations.

Then I went and found my son. He stood on his own in the shadows, all sweaty and smelly and damp. I hugged him around his torso and wetly told him . . . something. I can't remember.

But there was more. After all had wrestled. They turned the lights on and rolled up the mats. Then they presented medals, lots of medals. Medals for all the Junior Varsity rounds (the B-level), the three female brackets, and then the Varsity weight classes (A-level).

After that was the team results. The hosts were pipped by Kinnick, but our team got third.

And then there was one last trophy to present. The Outstanding Wrestler of the tournament award. Our son has already won this once this season. Surely he wouldn't win it again. I held my breath. And the name that I am so familiar with, the name I gave this boy of mine nearly 18 years ago in a hospital in Brisbane, was called out to a gym full of people.

I gasped. Then I jumped up and yelled again.

This was a day with plenty of emotions. Lots of fun getting back together with a lot of the regular wrestling parents. I also enjoyed relating to the female members of the team over dinner on the way home, especially after an emotional moment with one of them after a loss earlier in the day. We travelled home in the school bus with most of the team (David was the driver, as he's been all season). As we crept along in Saturday-night Tokyo traffic, it was fun chatting with the coach, and two other parents, plus some of the team members (but most were further back in the bus and having their own fun).

The adrenaline from all of that hasn't not worn off yet. My digestion isn't back to normal yet. 

I also struggled to get to sleep. Then I woke again early morning and it took longer than an hour to get back to sleep.

I lay down again this afternoon for a few hours, but no sleep came. I read, and played word and card games on my phone. Trying to relax, and knowing that the next week will test my endurance.

Crazy days

It's five sleeps until we go to Korea and things are heating up. Why does it always seem that unrelated things pile up on top of one another in my schedule?

Where we're headed on Wednesday

Today
This morning and actually yesterday too, I've been head-down-tail-up trying to get on top of the current stage in editing magazine articles. I'm hoping to get the articles all finished by the end of the month, so that we can get the next magazine out in the first month of the season (as opposed to the last month, as it is this month)! Not all of that is my responsibility, but a lion's share is.

What adds an urgency is our five-day Korea trip. The day after we get back I've got a half-day meeting downtown, so in total, I'm feeling like I'll lose a week of working time.

Today I've been reaping the benefits/dealing with the challenges of working from home. It was a non-school day for the boys, though we all attended student-led conferences this afternoon (instead of a parent-teacher conference, students talk to their parents about what they've been doing and set goals). So that meant that I edited as fast as I could this morning, then made lunch, then rode out to get groceries, put the groceries away and rushed down to school for three hours of conferences with my boys. Then came home to put dinner on, answering email and writing this blog post in the midst of making dinner! A bit crazy, indeed I feel pretty crazy.

Tomorrow
Tomorrow is the high school wrestling finals for our region (three international schools and three US military schools). It will be another all-day affair, though probably only involving two bouts for our son who is seeded first in his weight-class. However we are not anticipating that the final will be an easy win. He'll most probably be up against the same guy he's wrestled for the last two years. Our son has only been beaten by him twice (and both were last season), but they've rarely had an easy match.

Sunday
Sunday is a usual day, with church and then, hopefully, a quiet afternoon. Although there are things that need to be taken care of in preparation for our overseas trip on Wednesday. Packing of bags is one of them.

Monday
I have prayer meetings at school in the morning and then will go to the Japan Evangelical Missionary Association office in town to pack the Winter issue of the magazine.

Tuesday
Tuesday will be the crunch day. Making sure everything is ready for our trip away, making sure our two younger boys are ready to stay at someone else's house for five days. And, trying to finish up as much editing as possible. I'm hoping to catch up with a friend over coffee on Tuesday as well. I really hope we can as we've had to schedule and reschedule over and over again.

Tuesday night those of us who are going to Korea will go to the dress rehearsal of the school play. This is a special allowance for us as the performances all happen during our trip.

Wednesday
David and the team will leave at around 6am on trains to go to the airport. I'll leave at around 8.30 with one of my three travel buddies. We'll get to our destination sometime in the evening. Totally travel time door-to-door is about five to six hours, plus time in and around both airports.

Our younger boys will stay with a friend/colleague/teacher. Yes, he's all of these things, he even teaches one of our boys. He is also a wrestling parent. His wife is one of my travelling companions and two of his boys are with the team going to Korea.

So yes, I'm feeling a little hyperactive in trying to make sure I don't drop a ball in the midst of all this, though I fear that it's likely to happen anyway.

I'm excited about the trip, but as usual the actual leaving is rather full of stress.

A question of identity

Sometimes I've felt like a shadow of my
former self, like all substance has been
taken from who I am.

When we first arrived in Japan I felt like I'd lost my identity. It was like my past had been wiped clean. No one knew my past, I felt like I was back in kindergarten. Completely dependent for tasks even as small as reading my mail, buying milk, and going to the doctor. 

I read a blog post yesterday by a new OMFer who talked about the struggles of going with her young daughter to a "Snow camp". She wrote: "It’s hard, exhausting and discouraging to be the only one who has no idea – ALL the time." Those kinds of experiences will change you, will change your identity, but not take your identity from you.

I like this post called "Dear Life Abroad—I'll keep my identity thanks." It is based on the common idea that life overseas will result in a loss of identity. However the author counters the idea, saying that rather life overseas has shaped his identity, much like life at college does, or any significant experience does, really.

I remember struggling to fit back into my university life after a short five weeks away in Indonesia when I was 20. I toured the country with a group of other keen Christians, learning about the religions of the country and missionary life. Returning to Brisbane and my old life was very difficult. Even in that short time, I had changed, as had the people I'd left (for example, my best friend at church had begun a relationship with someone who later damaged her). 

But the main change, in that short time, was in me. I'd experienced intense Christian fellowship under, at times, trying circumstances. The spiritual experience was closer to heaven than I'd ever had the privilege of being a part of. I just couldn't slip back down easily into mediocre church-going. I had trouble relating to pretty much everyone at church. Oh, I also had a serious crisis in my uni course, which didn't help my state of mind. But overall, it was a difficult period.

However, my pain wasn't related to a loss of identity, but rather that in my new understanding of myself and the world, or my new identity, I struggled to relate to those who my former self had related to. Mind you that wasn't everyone in my life. Some precious friends who I lived with were a mainstay at this time. I often came home after church and ended up in tears on their shoulders.

And again, when we came back to Australia in 2004, after four years in Japan. Everyone had changed. Everyone had moved on in their lives, most not leaving a space for us to fit into again. But I think the bigger changes were probably in us. Our identities had changed. Four years in a completely different culture, being reduced to child-like dependency, learning to function in a completely new language, and doing a job you never felt qualified to do, does that to you. We were humbled, even crushed (or at least I was).

My identity now, after 16 years of living this life overseas (or in Australia temporarily, but talking about our life overseas), it definitely irrevocably changed. Japan will always be a part of who I am, no matter how many years I live somewhere else. These days I generally relate best to those who have similar identities: ones who were born in one country, but have lived in another for many years. I do always struggle when I go back to Australia, to fit in. To not be the person who always says, "Well, in Japan they..." or "There was that time that we were driving through Tokyo when..." And to patiently answer all the questions about Japan and our family's lives. Or to sit impatiently through conversations where the speaker clearly has forgotten where we've spent most of our lives.

Identity. It's an important topic and something that is unique to an individual. But don't be afraid you'll lose it as you encounter a difficult situation (like having children, or changing jobs or cities) or consider moving overseas. You'll be changed, for sure. For a time you may feel as though you've lost touch with who you were. But in the end you'll discover that actually, your old self is being changed into something new. If you're a Christian you can be sure that God will use this experience to make you more like him, if you're willing. 

We have long lists of people we pray for. Most of whom, for which, we don't know what's going on in their lives. So sometimes I pull out this passage by Paul and pray it for them:

 For this reason, since the day we heard about you, we have not stopped praying for you. We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives, so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, and giving joyful thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of his holy people in the kingdom of light. (Colossians 1:9-12, NIVUK) 

It's great to be reminded that God gives us his spirit that grows us in a way that pleases him.

And James 1:2-4 gives us encouragement that in the midst of challenging circumstances we grow: 

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. (NIVUK)

So let us not be afraid that we're going to lose (or have lost) our identity here on earth. In fact, if you are a child of God, that is your ultimate identity (Romans 8:14).

________________________________________________
Here are some other times I've written about identity:
Mixing up role and identity
Your experience of culture shock
The struggle for identity

A train ride

This was taken another day, when there was plenty of space
on the train and the platform!

On Monday I took one of the most crowded train rides I've ever had.

Our train was five minutes late. I wasn't feeling stressed because I've taken this train before and, though usually crowded, it is manageable for 30 minutes. Alas, the longer it takes for a train to arrive, the more people line up to get on.

When the train pulled up, the carriage I had lined up to hop on had people plastered on the inside of the door-windows. I was at the front of the line and had seconds to rip off my scarf and gloves before being thrust into 30 minutes of hot sardines. I would have liked to take my down jacket off too, but there simply wasn't time.

A few people got off, but the area I stepped into already was well populated. One step inside the door and I was forced to push against others. It was push or be pushed as the press of people behind me pressed forward to get onto the train. I pushed my way a little bit away from the door, but there really wasn't far to go. Just a sea of too many black jackets, filled with people who occupied the space that I and a dozen people behind me wanted. It seemed to be impossible that we could all get on without injuries. Yet we did.

As I pushed my way in, I got twisted to the side a little and could see a lady in her 60s who'd gotten on behind me. She shut her eyes and screwed up her face. She wasn't happy, and indeed looked like she might start to cry. At that point I started to feel panicky. Japanese people are usually so calm in such situations, her distressed face was not a comfort.

The doors were slow to close as, I presume, people squeezed one last limb or edge of a bag in. I presume, because I've seen it before. In reality I couldn't see past the few people whose backs, arms, legs, and shoulders, I was jammed up against. My world became very small. 

The train started forward and we were jostled into what turned out to be a better position for me. At least my feet were on the floor and they were underneath me, but the crush of people on my body eased slightly. I was still touching five people, with five more within easy reach, and someone had something jammed into my back. I had no room for my hands to hold my phone, or indeed reach either of the bags hanging off my shoulder. There was no space to adjust anything. You simply stood.

We still had 30 minutes of journey left, including four more train stops. At each stop the pressure got worse as more people got on than got off every time. By the end I wondered if it were possible to get a rib fracture, simply from riding on the train.

I gradually was pushed further into the carriage. Turned slightly each time, so that I saw different people. One younger lady had found a pocket of space to type on her phone, but it was near her waist. Every now and then she raised her face to the ceiling, as if to suck in more of the stale air that hung over us. Oh, how I longed for someone to open a window.

I ended up with someone's black shoulder jammed under my chin. This person (I don't know whether female or male) was clearly trying to pretend they weren't there at all. He or she had two hoodies over their head, and a scarf pulled up to cover their nose, with gloves still on hands. I shuddered with how hot he or she must be.

Next to the hooded person was someone also slightly taller than me, I was jammed against her back. She had wispy hair that drifted onto my face and nose. It was at this point that I realised my hands were pinned to my stomach and I couldn't even rub my nose or brush the hair away. I began to feel as though I was paralysed from the neck down.

I started silently praying for those around me. Short, simple prayers. And silently singing "Jesus Loves Me". . . but I couldn't make it to the end of the chorus. I also tried to breath slowly and deeply. I'm not a panicky person, but this wasn't a usual situation for me.

Whenever the train slowed to stop for a station I nearly lost my footing as momentum pushed everyone forward, and the press of bodies carried my torso forward, but left my feet firmly anchored to the floor. I guess it was the same for everyone. I was glad I wasn't next to the front wall of the carriage! I was also glad that I kept my footing. It's not uncommon to be lifted off the floor, if you are a small person, or end up with just one foot on the floor. Not fun at all.

When, finally, we reached our destination, the end of the line, the press of bodies spewed out the door and sucked me backwards towards fresh air. Alas the bag with my lunch and water bottle was stuck between people in front of me and didn't get sucked at the same rate as I did. I was left hauling on my bag's straps in an attempt to not be separated from it.

When I and my bags finally got out, it was a delight to be outside in the fresh air. Though we were free to move, we moved as only slightly liberated sardines: in one direction and with small steps until we got off the platform, then the pace increased so that you weren't stepping on the person in front of you.

Within five minutes I was on another train. Also crowded, so I didn't have a seat, but spacious enough that I could use my hands, have a sip of water from the bottle in my bag, and use my phone. It seems like unwarranted liberty!

The third train of my morning I even snaffled a seat. That felt like pure luxury.

An hour and a half after I got on that first train I walked into the missionary meeting that I was attending and immediately sought a coffee. It felt like I'd been sucked up, chewed, and spat out by the Tokyo train system and some reinforcements on a Monday morning were necessary.