And in the back rooms of the arenas and in the dormitories and practice rings of the wrestlers' stables, the routines of a close-knit world unfold in guarded protection. Ozumo also exists within the larger world and longer history of sumo, and Ozumo's conservative, xenophobic practices dominate, but are not unchallenged by, alternate representations and organizations. Gaining access, then, is not merely a logistical problem but a conceptual issue of how one should formulate a world of being and performing that is privately lived, thoroughly mediated, and contentiously represented. Deciding where and what Ozumo is illustrates the interpenetration of method and theory that is always at the heart of anthropological fieldwork. It is less appreciated, though, that this embodies a fundamental contradiction.
Participation implies insiders' knowledge of how to behave competently.
Anthropological observation, on the other hand, begins in deliberate ignorance, checking one's cultural baggage in order to learn things from a different point of view. Inevitably, then, most anthropologists do far more observing than participating. When conducting recent fieldwork in Japanese metropolitan fitness clubs, I tried to create a research role that was more fully participatory. Wearing the staff uniform gave me instant rapport, and the access and authority to interview club members. At the same time, however, it proved difficult to get full explanations, when I was assumed to be the expert.