Finally

I really need to quit being lazy with my updates. The longer I put these off, the more I know I have to write, the farther I push them. Combined with the fact that I only have internet access in an empty room at school, it becomes kind of a chore.

There’s been a lot to write about in the last month (a month, wow) so I’ll probably break it up into two updates. The two major things we’ve been up to were golden week, and climbing Mt. Bandai. Golden week happened first, so it seems like a good choice to update about it first. That way I can pretend like my updates aren’t’ so late…

Before I get into the story I should probably introduce Hiroshi. Hiroshi is a few years
older than us, speaks really great English, seems to know every foreigner in Aizu, and for some reason washes dishes at the cafeteria. We see him every day at lunch, and he finished work at 2 every day, so we’ve spent a lot of time hanging out with him. He drives us around town, we see the sights, speak English, and everybody has a great time.

Anyway about 3 weeks back he asks us if we’re interested in going to a festival in Iwaki during golden week. He’ll drive us there, we can stay at his grandmother’s house, and the whole thing is free. So we figured we get to participate in the festival by carrying portable shrines around the city, wearing Japanese festival clothes, and drinking free beer. Sounded like a sweet deal. Enjoy Japanese culture and party (for free) all at the same time.

The festival was on Monday, so we drove out to Iwaki on Sunday. Hiroshi’s grandmother’s house turned out to be really amazing. It was pretty large and really traditionally Japanese. We spent the night in sleeping bags next to his family shrine. My only real complaint would be the smell. His grandmother was drying fish something so parts of the house were pretty fishy.

The next day we got up early and headed to his aunt’s to get our festival gear on. It consisted of tabi, happi, and short, tight pants. We also met up with about 20 other gaijin, mostly JET teachers. At about 9 we headed to the shrine where the mikoshi was. The mikoshi ended up being a lot bigger than we’d expected. The actual shrine was about 3 feet cubed, and then had poles extending back about another 6-7 feet, and out to the side about 2 feet. After the mikoshi was blessed at the shrine we shouldered it for the first time. The mikoshi also turned out to be a lot heavier than I’d expected when Hiroshi des

cribed it. It took 15 or so people to lift it, and even then it weighed quite a bit.

At this point we’re heading out from the shrine. Hiroshi’s uncle is leading the way, using a whistle to keep everyone on step. The Japanese men who had done it before chanted as we went, and rocked the shrine back and forth. Periodically we would stop and jump up and down, ringing the bells and chains on the shrine while bystanders threw coins wrapped in tissue. By the time we took our first break 30 minutes later it had become apparent why there was free beer. Everyone stiff and hurting and we had just barely started. Even so people were really excited, and between the chanting and dancing carrying an X00 pound shrine turned out to be a blast.

Pushing through we carried it towards the sea, arriving there around noon. The beach was covered with onlookers, and we lined up with two over mikoshi. Everyone stripped down to just their pants, and we carried the mikoshi into the ocean. The absolute absurdity of the situation struck me somewhere in the middle of marching into the surf. I was in Japan, publicly parading into the water in only my boxers, carrying a Shinto shrine on my back. At about waist height we stopped moving forward and started to turn. We spun, shaking the shrines and chanting, splashing as the waves crashing into us and the people on the shore cheered along. It was absolutely surreal. To be part of something so completely alien was absolutely indescribable. After a time we plodded back out of the water, breathless and dripping, set the mikoshi down, and settled in for lunch. I shoveled soup down, chilly and completely and totally exhausted.


From the beach we of course had to march back to the shrine. After an hour or so we again shouldered the load and headed back. By this point my shoulders were really starting to hurt. Maybe it was the waning novelty, maybe I was sobering up more, maybe I was just tired, but the shrine seemed a bit heavier and my shoulders seemed a lot sorer. Throughout the afternoon we toured the city with the shrine. We took a different route back, loading the shrine onto a pickup and climbing into a bus so that we could visit the areas farther out of town. Part way through the afternoon we took another break at a shrine. Everyone relaxed for a few minutes, speaking mixed English and Japanese.

At this point we loaded it up for the last leg. Back into town, we carried it through tiny winding streets. Between people coming and going on the poles I gradually bubbled up to the front. At this point we ran head on, face to face with one of the other mikoshi. In the spirit of a festival, there was no way someone was simply going to move into the side street and let the other one pass. It turns out the preferred method for resolving mikoshi precedence is to lift it as high as possible, and then run towards the other mikoshi. I honestly don’t remember how long we went on for. Taking turns, screaming and rushing forward, only to be pushed back by the people at the front of the other shrine. It was an absolutely exhausting 15 minutes, but eventually we won. The opposite mikoshi backed into a side street, and we marched triumphantly past. I switched as quickly as possible, and took a well deserved rest.

It was 6:00 by the time we finally reached the shrine where we’d started. We set the mikoshi down, and after a brief closing ceremony took the traditional three laps around the building before heading to the onsen. After a rushed shower we all met back up for dinner to relax happy and exhausted with the rest of the mikoshi team.

It was certainly not what I expected, but it was better than I’d hoped for.