There are many sure-fire signs of summer here in Japan. None of them involve actual sunshine. We’re talking flash sales at department stores, people wearing sunglasses indoors, endless frozen drinks…
And watermelons.
The watermelon, or suika, is the spherical summer symbol that you can look directly at without damaging your eyes. At many a summer party, a helpless watermelon is slashed to pieces in the name of afternoon refreshment.
Today, I’m bringing you eye-witness coverage from the sacrifice of one such watermelon this week. We awaited it on the beach, where all summer parties must legally be held. The watermelon had been unceremoniously lugged onto the sand in some kind of plastic sling. A fruit papoose, if you will. We duly stripped the melon of its binding and its dignity.
A quick and painless demise wasn’t on the cards, either. We spent a good 20 minutes tormenting that fruit. A group of strong, brave men took it in turns to be blindfolded and attempt to whack the watermelon with a plastic broom handle.
This melonfoolery was the ‘warm up’ to the main event, prolonging the watermelon’s general discomfort.
I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the TV show ‘Spartacus: Blood & Sand’. I haven’t. But I imagine this is pretty similar. We could call it ‘Watermelon: Pips & Sand’. I bet one of the networks would snap that concept up in an instant.
Back to the carnage. Before being pushed forwards to flail wildly at their melon, participants had to be dizzy.
Once discombobulated, they were guided towards the watermelon by our vaguely navigational yells. “Left a bit. No, your other left. A couple of steps forward… oh, wait, your feet are huge. Stop there, then. Now hit it.”
We watched the first attempt in respectful silence. With a loud ‘fwip’, the broom hande made contact with sand. If watermelons were able to sigh with relief, I expect this is when it would. But we did not. In fact, we cheered. Player one had just lost the game, and it was time for the next challenger.
The tension was high throughout. Particularly because someone had put their expensive camera in the sand next to the watermelon. There were a few close calls.
Shockingly, our dizziest participant was the first to make full contact. The ‘forehead on the baseball bat’ approach to confusing yourself seems to pay off.
Once someone finally hit the thing, we stopped mucking about and split the watermelon with a knife. Like cats ripping the head off a mouse, now it no longer amused us.
I don’t get why we don’t pursue watermelons for sport back home. I’m not a fan of fox hunting, and based on our travails your average melon doesn’t go down without a fight. Maybe we should give this a try.
