Ninjing In A Ninja Park

I was travelling to a Ninja Park in Nagano with five other teachers, and we were all excited about what lay in store for us. We had planned it weeks in advance after one of my teenage students recommended it. The photos promoting the park on a website showed people of all ages being trained martial-arts by authentic ninjas.
Reuben summed it up succinctly as we were nearing our destination: "I'm looking forward to fucking about with Ninja shit."
The park was situated in the mountainous region of Togakushi, and the four hour drive afforded us epic views of rocky plains. As we ascended the narrow roads the air became fresh and sharply smacked you in the face if you popped your head out of the car window. I must admit, as we came closer to the park, I had images of me battling ninjas in full ninja garb and being taught the ways of the ninja by an old sensei with a flowing white beard and that this lesson would take place by moonlight. I would then return to my teaching way of life with new-found ninja skills allowing me to no longer take any shit from my students.
I was not the only one with ninja dreams. Martin, who was driving one of the two cars in our convoy, delved into a bag as we stopped at some traffic lights, and took out a black hood.
"What's that," I asked.
"A ninja hood I bought in Kyoto," he said, and put it over his head.
Far from giving off the impression of a cunning ninja, he resembled an old Arabic woman. And his nose was poking out of the gap reserved for the darting, alert eyes of a ninja. I made this observation and he agreed the nose should be concealed in case it got caught in a trip wire.
"There, I'm practically invisible," he said beneath the hood.
I was amused to see the reactions of people driving past our car in the opposite direction. I'm sure they had never seen a ninja driving a car before. But I surmised that Martin didn't give off a ninja impression because the looks of the families driving past in the opposite lane was one of terror. Maybe they thought he was some crazy-nut with a bag over his head.
We parked outside the park premises, and Martin - still wearing his ridiculous hood - instructed me to be quiet because he wanted to scare Russ, Reuben and Anthony in the other car.


"How you gonna sca...," and before I could finish the sentence, he had darted off into the jungle in a commando position and hid behind a tree, laying in wait for them to walk past. Again, he didn't quite accomplish a ninja appearance. For a start he was wearing a blue t-shirt and jeans. A real ninja would calculate that blue clothes would alert his enemies to his whereabouts in a green jungle. Indeed, a couple of girls walked past his 'hiding' place and immediately spotted him. They screamed in terror when they saw his dark lumbering presence and ran away.
"Martin, you look more like a rapist than a ninja!" I called out.
"Eh?" he shouted back, cupping his ear.
"You're not hiding properly. Everyone can see you lurking about in the jungle!" I shouted.
"I'm not just in the jungle, I am the jungle!!!" he boomed.


I left him to act out his sordid ninja fantasy. Ultimately his grand-plan of stealthy terror was a disaster because Russ, Reuben and Anthony were still in their car browsing over a map, leaving Martin to sulk and get bored beside a tree. After five-minutes he took matters into his own hands. He leapt out of the jungle and tip-toed towards their car in a crouch position.
As he squatted beneath the window of Anthony's car, he took a moment to balance himself before shooting up from his crouch position and shouting, "Boo!"
None of them even flinched. Instead, they looked at him with perplexed curiosity.
Anthony wound down his window.
"Why have you got a stupid bag on your head," Reuben said.
"Boo!" Martin needlessly said again.
"The parks just round the corner, let's go," Russ said.
Martin’s grand plan had been destroyed.
I couldn’t see his expression as his face was covered, but I imagine it would have been a hang-dog one weighed heavily with anti-climatic vibes. He slowly took off his hood and gingerly put it in his bag as the rest of us walked on ahead leaving him defeated and embittered behind us.
The rest of the group soon felt as Martin did because the park was not the one we had in mind.


I expected a ninja to greet us with a flying kick and a somersault. But the impression I got from this park was that it was exclusively for children. One feature that backed up my thought was the sign that read: "Children's Ninja Park" and the small cuddly logos of cartoon ninjas smiling and waving. When we entered the park, the apparatus on display were swings, slides and rope-ways. There was little ninja relevance to this place. The park pretended that the place was a realistic assault course used by ninjas to train by placing picture signs around the park of stern looking ninjas swinging on swings, sliding down slides and balancing on rope ways. I wasn't fooled and promptly told the others that we had just driven four hours to visit a kid’s playground.
“Can I beat up your student who recommended this park to you,” Russ asked me.
After a moments thought, I said sure.
This is bullshit," Reuben concluded.
We all agreed that we should make the most of the day and decided to make use of the apparatus inside the park.
It was understandable that the little kids playing on the slides and swings suddenly evaporated from view once they saw a bunch of blokes charging towards the park in an intimidating way. This was good for us because it meant we had the whole park to run riot in.