Sumo stables: Secretive world of Japanese wrestling | CNN

Sumo stables: Secretive world of Japanese wrestling

Daisy Carrington
By Daisy Carrington, for CNN
5 minute read
Updated 10:10 PM EDT, Tue March 15, 2016
Catching a sumo tournament isn't always easy in Japan. But it is possible to sit in on the wrestlers' morning practice?
Sumo stables —
Catching a sumo tournament isn't always easy in Japan. But it is possible to sit in on the wrestlers' morning practice?
Junko Kimura/Getty Images
Sumo wrestlers live in a handful of designated stables, or beya, where they eat, sleep, and train. Their practice starts at around 5 a.m. and if visitors call in advance they can watch the showdown for free.
Tokyo's beya —
Sumo wrestlers live in a handful of designated stables, or beya, where they eat, sleep, and train. Their practice starts at around 5 a.m. and if visitors call in advance they can watch the showdown for free.
Toshi Kitamura/AFP/Getty Images
Training sessions usually last about three hours. Visitors should not distract the wrestlers by talking or moving around too much. Even taking a bathroom break is frowned upon, as it breaks the wrestlers' concentration.
The rules —
Training sessions usually last about three hours. Visitors should not distract the wrestlers by talking or moving around too much. Even taking a bathroom break is frowned upon, as it breaks the wrestlers' concentration.
Koichi Kamoshida/Getty Images
Sometimes spectators will be offered a pillow, sometimes they won't.
Hard seats —
Sometimes spectators will be offered a pillow, sometimes they won't.
Yoshikazu Tsuno/AFP/Getty Images
The best time to visit the stables (there are about 12-15 around Tokyo's Ryogoku neighborhood) is during the two weeks leading up to a tournament.
Training times —
The best time to visit the stables (there are about 12-15 around Tokyo's Ryogoku neighborhood) is during the two weeks leading up to a tournament.
Junko Kimura/Getty Images
Though sumo wrestlers are big, and can look scary, they're "softies," says Mark Buckton, editor of<a href="index.php?page=&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.sumofanmag.com%2F" target="_blank" target="_blank"> Sumo Fan Magazine</a> and the sumo columnist for Japan Times. They're almost always open to having a photo taken, he says.
Photo friendly —
Though sumo wrestlers are big, and can look scary, they're "softies," says Mark Buckton, editor of Sumo Fan Magazine and the sumo columnist for Japan Times. They're almost always open to having a photo taken, he says.
Keith Tsuji/Getty Images
How to navigate Tokyo's sumo stables
CNN  — 

Sumo wrestling is as ingrained in the culture of Japan as sushi and cat cafes.

Alas, those eager to catch a match might be out of luck, as ticket prices are high and the tournament season is sporadic and short-lived – there are only six tournaments per year throughout the country.

The good news is, with a little forward planning, visitors to Tokyo can get closer to a sumo wrestler than they ever would at a tournament. So close, in fact, they can even smell their sweat.

Inside a sumo wrestler’s house

Sumo is as ancient as it is quintessentially Japanese. Historians agree that the sport dates back at least 2,000 years, and in its current form has remained largely unchanged since the Edo period.<br /><br />Rigid in its ceremony, the actual bouts often last mere seconds, and much of the time the two opponents face off in the "dohyo" -- a raised clay dais -- is spent going through a set of ritualized traditions. Settling down on their haunches, the two "rikishi" -- wrestlers -- face off before standing again, walking to their respective corners and their seconds, before throwing salt into the ring to purify it. <br /><br />While viewing figures have declined in the last two decades, watching the sport -- televised or otherwise -- during the six yearly grand tournaments, or "honbasho," is a uniquely Japanese experience that fans hope will never fade away.
Sumo is as ancient as it is quintessentially Japanese. Historians agree that the sport dates back at least 2,000 years, and in its current form has remained largely unchanged since the Edo period.

Rigid in its ceremony, the actual bouts often last mere seconds, and much of the time the two opponents face off in the "dohyo" -- a raised clay dais -- is spent going through a set of ritualized traditions. Settling down on their haunches, the two "rikishi" -- wrestlers -- face off before standing again, walking to their respective corners and their seconds, before throwing salt into the ring to purify it.

While viewing figures have declined in the last two decades, watching the sport -- televised or otherwise -- during the six yearly grand tournaments, or "honbasho," is a uniquely Japanese experience that fans hope will never fade away.
Euan McKirdy/CNN
Each year sees six grand tournaments, or "honbasho," that last for 15 days each, and the top-ranked wrestlers will contest one bout each day.<br /><br />The final tournament of the year, in the city of Fukuoka on the southern island of Kyushu, is one of the biggest annual events in the region.
Each year sees six grand tournaments, or "honbasho," that last for 15 days each, and the top-ranked wrestlers will contest one bout each day.

The final tournament of the year, in the city of Fukuoka on the southern island of Kyushu, is one of the biggest annual events in the region.
JIJI PRESS/AFP/AFP/Getty Images
In recent years there has been considerable hand-wringing about the state of the sport, with a paucity of Japanese wrestlers making the top grade. <br />Recently, a "yokozuna," or grand champion, a Mongolian who wrestled under the nom de guerre of Asashoryu, turned many fans off with his snarling, aggressive displays, often rank with gamesmanship and, traditionalists thought, disrespectful of the sport. More recently, however, his countryman, a stellar yokozuna by the name of Hakuho (pictured), who earlier in 2015 broke the all-time tournament win record, clinching his 33rd trophy in the January honbasho, has been an exemplar of the solemnity and ceremony of this form-filled martial art, and has brought fans back into the fold.
In recent years there has been considerable hand-wringing about the state of the sport, with a paucity of Japanese wrestlers making the top grade.
Recently, a "yokozuna," or grand champion, a Mongolian who wrestled under the nom de guerre of Asashoryu, turned many fans off with his snarling, aggressive displays, often rank with gamesmanship and, traditionalists thought, disrespectful of the sport. More recently, however, his countryman, a stellar yokozuna by the name of Hakuho (pictured), who earlier in 2015 broke the all-time tournament win record, clinching his 33rd trophy in the January honbasho, has been an exemplar of the solemnity and ceremony of this form-filled martial art, and has brought fans back into the fold.
TOSHIFUMI KITAMURA/AFP/AFP/Getty Images
The spiritual home of the sport is the Ryogoku Kokugikan in Sumida Ward, Tokyo. It hosts the Spring, Summer and Autumn tournaments. The original Kokugikan was built in the early 20th century, as the sport gained popularity in Meiji-era Japan. <br /><br />Now the sport needs to compete with Japan's other two major spectator sports, baseball and soccer. While there are sumo clubs for all ages, and a competitive varsity-level league, interest in the sport, which requires intense dedication and levels of privation that many young Japanese are not willing to endure, is waning and the top echelons of the sport dominated by overseas wrestlers.
The spiritual home of the sport is the Ryogoku Kokugikan in Sumida Ward, Tokyo. It hosts the Spring, Summer and Autumn tournaments. The original Kokugikan was built in the early 20th century, as the sport gained popularity in Meiji-era Japan.

Now the sport needs to compete with Japan's other two major spectator sports, baseball and soccer. While there are sumo clubs for all ages, and a competitive varsity-level league, interest in the sport, which requires intense dedication and levels of privation that many young Japanese are not willing to endure, is waning and the top echelons of the sport dominated by overseas wrestlers.
Chris McGrath/Getty Images AsiaPac/Getty Images
The area around the Kokugikan is rife with sumo memorabilia and themed restaurants. Alongside the Edo-Tokyo museum, the stadium is one of the main draws for fans. <br /><br />The sport is becoming more internationalized -- the three yokozuna are all Mongolian, and a Bulgarian, who wrestled under the nom de guerre Kotooshu, was the first European to win the Emperor's Cup.<br /><br />Japan and Mongolia's wrestling traditions share a lot in common, and as a result there have been more wrestlers from the landlocked Asian nation entering the ranks.
The area around the Kokugikan is rife with sumo memorabilia and themed restaurants. Alongside the Edo-Tokyo museum, the stadium is one of the main draws for fans.

The sport is becoming more internationalized -- the three yokozuna are all Mongolian, and a Bulgarian, who wrestled under the nom de guerre Kotooshu, was the first European to win the Emperor's Cup.

Japan and Mongolia's wrestling traditions share a lot in common, and as a result there have been more wrestlers from the landlocked Asian nation entering the ranks.
Euan McKirdy/CNN
"Japanese people aren't as interested in sumo as they used to be," one woman told CNN in Mizuguchi, a shokudo (Japanese home-style cooking) restaurant in the Asakusa neighborhood. A big flat screen TV dominates one wall, and the owner is known for her rich knowledge of the sport.<br /><br />The customer, who asked that CNN not use her name, said: "Like most sports in Japan, it's becoming more international. The Japanese (wrestlers) aren't hungry. The Mongolians are hungry."
"Japanese people aren't as interested in sumo as they used to be," one woman told CNN in Mizuguchi, a shokudo (Japanese home-style cooking) restaurant in the Asakusa neighborhood. A big flat screen TV dominates one wall, and the owner is known for her rich knowledge of the sport.

The customer, who asked that CNN not use her name, said: "Like most sports in Japan, it's becoming more international. The Japanese (wrestlers) aren't hungry. The Mongolians are hungry."
Euan McKirdy/CNN
During the out-of-town tournaments, Ryogoku is quiet but especially during the three annual Tokyo Grand Tournaments, the place thrums with a unique mix of culture and tradition, with rikishi an ever-present sight in the neighborhood. <br /><br />Reminders of the neighborhood's association with the sport, like this small statue in the west entrance of Ryogoku station, are everywhere.
During the out-of-town tournaments, Ryogoku is quiet but especially during the three annual Tokyo Grand Tournaments, the place thrums with a unique mix of culture and tradition, with rikishi an ever-present sight in the neighborhood.

Reminders of the neighborhood's association with the sport, like this small statue in the west entrance of Ryogoku station, are everywhere.
Euan McKirdy/CNN
Unsurprisingly, sumo wrestlers have to eat vast amounts. One of their staples is the incredibly protein-rich chanko nabe, a hot pot made up of broth, various meats and vegetables. Restaurants in Yokoami, the neighborhood where the Kokugikan is located, specialize in the dish.Three middle-aged "salarymen," Yasunobu Nasu, Tsuyoshi Watanabe and Minoru Maki, of the Japan Frozen Noodle Association, Nisshin Flour Milling and Shimada Corp., a noodle manufacturer, are eating in Kirishima, a local chanko restaurant, four floors up and overlooking the station and keep half an eye on the bouts that regularly spring to life on the big-screen TV mounted prominently on one wall of the restaurant. They agree that the Japanese rikishi are getting weaker -- indeed, there is only one Japanese wrestler in the yokozuna and ozeki -- the second tier -- ranks.<br /><br />"That's ok, though," Nasu says. "Maybe this will help raise the popularity of our sport outside Japan."
Unsurprisingly, sumo wrestlers have to eat vast amounts. One of their staples is the incredibly protein-rich chanko nabe, a hot pot made up of broth, various meats and vegetables. Restaurants in Yokoami, the neighborhood where the Kokugikan is located, specialize in the dish.Three middle-aged "salarymen," Yasunobu Nasu, Tsuyoshi Watanabe and Minoru Maki, of the Japan Frozen Noodle Association, Nisshin Flour Milling and Shimada Corp., a noodle manufacturer, are eating in Kirishima, a local chanko restaurant, four floors up and overlooking the station and keep half an eye on the bouts that regularly spring to life on the big-screen TV mounted prominently on one wall of the restaurant. They agree that the Japanese rikishi are getting weaker -- indeed, there is only one Japanese wrestler in the yokozuna and ozeki -- the second tier -- ranks.

"That's ok, though," Nasu says. "Maybe this will help raise the popularity of our sport outside Japan."
Euan McKirdy/CNN
Retiree Masahiko Sawada, pictured here with his wife Reiko, is a huge fan who watches the honbasho tournaments regularly, setting his daily schedule during the bimonthly, two-week-long events around the later bouts, which start around 5 p.m. each day and where the higher-ranked wrestlers, like his personal favorites Teranouchi and Tochioza, take to the dohyo. <br /><br />Despite his interest in the sport, however, he confesses that he has never been to watch a honbasho live. He says the concept of "yamato damashi" -- the unique Japanese spirit, sometimes fancifully translated as "samurai soul" is waning in Japan. <br /><br />He says that the influx of foreign rikishi, however, isn't a problem. "Asashoryu was a strong, powerful wrestler," he says. "But he lacked class. Hakuho is different. He's very calm, more 'Japanese.'"
Retiree Masahiko Sawada, pictured here with his wife Reiko, is a huge fan who watches the honbasho tournaments regularly, setting his daily schedule during the bimonthly, two-week-long events around the later bouts, which start around 5 p.m. each day and where the higher-ranked wrestlers, like his personal favorites Teranouchi and Tochioza, take to the dohyo.

Despite his interest in the sport, however, he confesses that he has never been to watch a honbasho live. He says the concept of "yamato damashi" -- the unique Japanese spirit, sometimes fancifully translated as "samurai soul" is waning in Japan.

He says that the influx of foreign rikishi, however, isn't a problem. "Asashoryu was a strong, powerful wrestler," he says. "But he lacked class. Hakuho is different. He's very calm, more 'Japanese.'"
Euan McKirdy/CNN
This small dohyo, in a faceless park in a faceless suburb of Tokyo, is an increasing rarity in the capital -- or for that matter, almost anywhere in Japan. The neighborhood committee voted to build the clay structure in the park here because they wanted to promote a sport that teaches kids respect. <br /><br />They practice three times a week, even as winter approaches and they stand, steaming breath and feeling the sweat chill on their torsos. There are also two girls in this stable, sisters who train with and spar against the boys. One of the girls recently won a regional tournament.
This small dohyo, in a faceless park in a faceless suburb of Tokyo, is an increasing rarity in the capital -- or for that matter, almost anywhere in Japan. The neighborhood committee voted to build the clay structure in the park here because they wanted to promote a sport that teaches kids respect.

They practice three times a week, even as winter approaches and they stand, steaming breath and feeling the sweat chill on their torsos. There are also two girls in this stable, sisters who train with and spar against the boys. One of the girls recently won a regional tournament.
Euan McKirdy/CNN
Aubrey Sato, the mother of two of the smaller boys in the group, Yuki and Masato, says her two boys have just started training at the neighborhood dohyo. <br /><br />She says her sons were the ones who made the decision to start training. She says she's not worried about them getting injured ("Injuries, some scratches. It's part of the training. So they will get tough and strong") as the experience of learning and training in the sport will be beneficial to their development. <br />"By practicing sumo it's about what you can get by training your heart and your body as well," she says. "Through training I think it's great that they get to train their heart and body at the same time."
Aubrey Sato, the mother of two of the smaller boys in the group, Yuki and Masato, says her two boys have just started training at the neighborhood dohyo.

She says her sons were the ones who made the decision to start training. She says she's not worried about them getting injured ("Injuries, some scratches. It's part of the training. So they will get tough and strong") as the experience of learning and training in the sport will be beneficial to their development.
"By practicing sumo it's about what you can get by training your heart and your body as well," she says. "Through training I think it's great that they get to train their heart and body at the same time."
Euan McKirdy/CNN
When CNN visited on an uncharacteristically warm, rainy early November evening there were around six boys, ranging in age from 14 down to seven or eight.<br /><br />The eldest two, middle schoolers, Ryota Sato and Wataru Nihonyanagi, have filled out and look the part, but the younger boys still are slight -- the ribs of youngest, Masato, still stick out as he goes through the drills and practice bouts with his stablemates and the instructor, Koichi Sakuma. <br />Wataru says he got into the sport when an elderly neighbor remarked that he was a big kid and suggested trying the sport out, where he might have an advantage, not necessarily evident in modern imports like baseball or soccer. He's been training since he was seven -- he's now 14 -- and says the sport has taught him "courtesy and has improved the training of my mind."
When CNN visited on an uncharacteristically warm, rainy early November evening there were around six boys, ranging in age from 14 down to seven or eight.

The eldest two, middle schoolers, Ryota Sato and Wataru Nihonyanagi, have filled out and look the part, but the younger boys still are slight -- the ribs of youngest, Masato, still stick out as he goes through the drills and practice bouts with his stablemates and the instructor, Koichi Sakuma.
Wataru says he got into the sport when an elderly neighbor remarked that he was a big kid and suggested trying the sport out, where he might have an advantage, not necessarily evident in modern imports like baseball or soccer. He's been training since he was seven -- he's now 14 -- and says the sport has taught him "courtesy and has improved the training of my mind."
Euan McKirdy/CNN
Ryota, the oldest of the six, says that his friends and classmates aren't surprised that he's chosen this sport, "because I'm quite big." Even though the training is grueling and requires a great commitment, he says he's never even thought about quitting. <br />Both he and Watauru want to be rikishi when they're older. Wataru's hero is the former Japanese great Chiyonofuji, who had a career record of 807 victories, while Ryota prefers the now-retired bad boy Asashoryu. <br /><br />"I like him because he's cool," he says. Ryota echoes his stablemate when he pays tribute to the mental aspect of training. "It's more than just the training of the body," he says. "It's about discipline, respect and becoming a better person.<br />"Also, once when it was snowing, my neighbor asked me to help push his two-ton truck."
Ryota, the oldest of the six, says that his friends and classmates aren't surprised that he's chosen this sport, "because I'm quite big." Even though the training is grueling and requires a great commitment, he says he's never even thought about quitting.
Both he and Watauru want to be rikishi when they're older. Wataru's hero is the former Japanese great Chiyonofuji, who had a career record of 807 victories, while Ryota prefers the now-retired bad boy Asashoryu.

"I like him because he's cool," he says. Ryota echoes his stablemate when he pays tribute to the mental aspect of training. "It's more than just the training of the body," he says. "It's about discipline, respect and becoming a better person.
"Also, once when it was snowing, my neighbor asked me to help push his two-ton truck."
Euan McKirdy/CNN
During the day coach Koichi Sakuma works in a convenience store. He has been training kids for 30 years. <br /><br />"Becoming a yokozuna is equivalent to becoming a divine figure, so it's really important for (sumo wrestlers) to maintain and preserve Japanese tradition. <br />"There's a saying in Japanese martial arts: 'everything begins with politeness and ends with politeness.' This dohyo actually began with a suggestion from the community that they wanted to teach kids courtesy and being polite, and since other martial arts are expensive, with a lot of equipment, they decided a sumo dohyo was the best option."
During the day coach Koichi Sakuma works in a convenience store. He has been training kids for 30 years.

"Becoming a yokozuna is equivalent to becoming a divine figure, so it's really important for (sumo wrestlers) to maintain and preserve Japanese tradition.
"There's a saying in Japanese martial arts: 'everything begins with politeness and ends with politeness.' This dohyo actually began with a suggestion from the community that they wanted to teach kids courtesy and being polite, and since other martial arts are expensive, with a lot of equipment, they decided a sumo dohyo was the best option."
Euan McKirdy/CNN
Yuki and Masato's father, who declined to give his name, alludes to the notion of "yamato damashi," the quasi-militaristic perception of "Japaneseness." <br />"Traditional sports like sumo are something that makes a Japanese person" he says. "There is a fact that yamato damashi is lacking these days but it's also that something that we originally had is being forgotten. <br /><br />"It's important through sumo and other traditional sports that we can bring back something that we've forgotten inside as Japanese. It's something that we want (the coaches) to pass on to the next generation."
Yuki and Masato's father, who declined to give his name, alludes to the notion of "yamato damashi," the quasi-militaristic perception of "Japaneseness."
"Traditional sports like sumo are something that makes a Japanese person" he says. "There is a fact that yamato damashi is lacking these days but it's also that something that we originally had is being forgotten.

"It's important through sumo and other traditional sports that we can bring back something that we've forgotten inside as Japanese. It's something that we want (the coaches) to pass on to the next generation."
Euan McKirdy/CNN
Sumo: Can Japan's national sport survive?

When they’re not competing, sumo wrestlers train year round in designated sumo stables, or beya.

These stables, which are mostly based in Tokyo’s Ryogoku neighborhood, are where the city’s wrestlers live, eat, sleep and practice on a near daily basis. In recent years, it’s become more common for foreigners to visit the morning practice, which begins at about 5 a.m. and lasts three to four hours.

Not all stables appreciate visitors, however, and none enjoy people showing up unannounced.

Mark Buckton, editor of Sumo Fan Magazine and the sumo columnist for Japan Times, says it’s essential to get a Japanese speaker to call ahead the day before to make sure it’s OK to drop in. You can usually get the hotel concierge to dial in.

“There are around 12 to 15 stables in that area,” explains Buckton. “Some places just don’t want foreign people turning up and some have signs outside on the door in English.”

Unless you can get ringside seats at a tournament, the morning practice at a sumo stadium is the closest you’ll likely get to a sumo wrestler.

“The proximity of you to the wrestlers, it’s like you’re sitting in a living room, watching people at the opposite end fighting,” says Buckton.

Sit still, don’t say a word

Visitors to the stables are expected to stay still for the duration of the practice.
Visitors to the stables are expected to stay still for the duration of the practice.
Yoshikazu Tsuno/AFP/Getty Images

Buckton points out that because the stables are basically the living quarters for the wrestlers and the sumo masters who oversee them, it’s important that visitors show respect. He recalls a time he witnessed two American tourists tell the stable master to stop smoking.

This, he says, is a definite no-no. “It’s their house,” he says. “If I go to your house, I’m not going to ask you to stop doing something I don’t like.”

Because training takes a lot of focus, it’s essential not to distract the wrestlers by talking or moving around a lot.

“You should expect to sit on the floor for two, two and a half hours,” says Buckton. “They might offer you a cushion, they might not. You’re not supposed to move, and that includes going to the toilet.”

“And they will get annoyed if you start speaking.”

As a result, he adds, it’s definitely not a good environment for young children.

Buckton also says that, in keeping with Japanese etiquette, visitors should wear socks or tights, even when in sandals, as it’s customary to remove shoes when entering.

Bare feet are deemed impolite.

In summer, it’s best to wear something that covers up the shoulders. Also, “when you sit on the floor, you should never point the soles of your feet toward the ring.”

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Don't be intimidated by their size. Sumo wrestlers are usually pretty friendly.
Don't be intimidated by their size. Sumo wrestlers are usually pretty friendly.
Keith Tsuji/Getty Images

Catching a morning training session can result in prime photo ops. The main rules?

Don’t use a flash and mute the shutter sound on your phone.

Otherwise, taking pictures is usually permissible, though Buckton recommends taking one as a test and gauging the reaction of the wrestlers before continuing.

“If you’re leaving near the end of practice, you might see wrestlers milling around outside,” he says. “Go speak to them if you want a picture with the big guys.

“They look scary, but they’re softies, and they’ll almost always say yes.”

What’s it cost?

By and large, the only thing a trip to the sumo stables should cost is the metro fare to Ryogoku.

That said, there are several companies that have popped up in recent years charging exorbitant fees to sit in and watch a practice. Buckton’s advice: Don’t pay.

“Sometimes the stables will have morning practice, finish, then put on a fake practice for tourists,” he says.

“They’ll do a few dramatic throws and charge a couple of hundred dollars to eat with the wrestlers, but that’s gimmicky. It’s not the real world of sumo.”

Furthermore, he says the guides associated with these types of tours aren’t always sumo experts.

“To be a guide means you’re Japanese. It doesn’t mean you know what you’re talking about. I’ve heard them come out with all sorts of BS about what’s happening and tourists don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong.”

Where and when to go

Buckton says the best time to drop in on a session is the last week of December, the first week of January, the last week of April, the first week of May, the last week of August and the first week of September.

“It’s because the tournaments are in January, May and September, and the weeks leading up are a good time to visit,” he explains. “Practice can be quite intense and the wrestlers really go for it.”

As for stables to visit, he says three stand out:

1. Kasugano Beya

As stables go, Kasugano Beya is one of the oldest in Tokyo.

Though it was inactive for over a century, the stable was founded in the 18th century.

It’s been home to several high-ranking champions, and as such is a good spot to watch some high-level competing.

1-7-11 Ryogoku, Sumida-ku, Tokyo; +81 (0)3 3631 1871

2. Hakkaku Beya

Grand champions are hard to come by in sumo.

According to Buckton, there have only been 71 grand champions in sumo’s 270-year history.

The stable master, Hakkaku Nobuyoshi (formerly Nobuyoshi Hoshi) happens to be one.

Some of the wrestlers at the stable rank in the top 10% of the sport.

You can tell because they wear white belts, as opposed to the lower ranking black belts worn by the majority of wrestlers.

As a result, visitors are all but guaranteed a decent practice.

1-16-1 Kamezawa, Sumjida-ku, Tokyo; +81 (0)3 3621 0505

3. Kokonoe Beya

Like Hakkaku, Kokonoe is also run by a former grand champion, and is home to a couple of white belt champions.

4-22-4 Ishiwara, Sumida-ku, Tokyo; +81 (0)3 5608 0404