Up to Our Necks in Hot Water - part one

Sometimes it is just nice to have a relaxing day and do something at the same time. Bathing is something of a national obsession here in Japan. Soaking in a hot tub every night is considered the way to relax and unwind. Not doing so is considered weird and unusual. Another aspect of this is the onsen. An onsen is a natural hot spring where people pay to sit in the hot tubs and wash their worries away. Onsens and public baths dot the countryside and visiting them is a form of holiday. We did some research in our guide books and found an onsen in the area that is recommended to travelers and is easy to access.

We would have to return to the town of Kurama, where we went to witness a fire festival and all we were able to see was the giant crowd. I was not sure we would ever return to this town, but here we were on our way back to the tiny town north of Kyoto. It was bound to be a relaxing day. The train ride out of Kyoto was on one of the most interesting trains we have ever ridden. This train was built for sightseeing. The train cars, there were two of them, had the fewest seats I have ever seen on a train. There was a row of single seats along the window on one side. On the other side of the car there was a row of double seats. Instead of facing forward or backward, as they do on most passenger trains, the benches faced the window. The window was made for viewing the passing scenery. The windows on this train were the tallest and widest windows on any train we have ever had the opportunity to ride. Unfortunately there was only one seat available when we boarded and it went to Logan and Jenny who sat together and shared. The ride from Kyoto to Kurama takes about an hour and it was not long before a bench facing the gorgeous picture window opened up and we were all able to sit.

We sat and watched the city-scape give way to rolling countryside then move to rolling hills and forest. It was a magnificent chance to see in a simple and relaxing way. We arrived in the town of Kurama and reminisced about visiting that night and how different the town looked with no people around. We strolled down that same street. What took us hours that night in October now took less than five minutes. The stroll was mystifying because when we were here last the street was neigh impassable and now there was nary a soul to be seen.

We found the massive map that stands in the center of town. This and a few souvenir shops were all that stood to mark the fact that we were in the city. There was not even one of the ubiquitous convenience stores that scatter the Japanese landscape. We knew from our book that this town held the onsen and a temple. We consulted the giant map and located the two landmarks and set off to find them.

The temple was first. Not only did it lie closest in proximity but we also thought that it would be wiser to hike the mountain and see what was at the top, and then take a nice long hot soak in an outdoor tub. This order seemed like a good idea and it worked out perfectly. We walked from the map to the entrance of the temple, which lies at the bottom of a mountain. We paid the entrance fee and began to climb the big hill. The path lead us first past a beautiful pond filled with swimming fish and a cascading waterfall. We took a few minutes to contemplate because Logan wanted to watch the fish swim in the pond. We then began to ascend the path again. Next we came to a steep set of stairs that led through a magnificent gate and into a small temple. The beautiful part of the gate was the fact that it was flanked by a pair of enormous trees that towered into the sky. I found it difficult to climb the stairs and stare up at the branches that tickled the clouds. Holding onto the stair rail helped but I still felt as if I would tip over backward at any given moment.

We took some time to rest and smell the roses at this stage. We were not sure if we would take the time to climb all the way to the top of the mountain today. After all, the last time we did that it took most of the afternoon, and we had other things to do today. We worried even more about the difficulty of the climb when we saw the next crew of people climbing the hill. We were being pursued by a group of hikers. I am not talking about a bunch of people like us who are out to have a nice afternoon visiting a nice little temple on a tall hill. I am talking about a hiking club with enough gear to put the editors of a backpacking magazine to shame. Here were about fifteen to twenty people hiking up the same mountain as us. We were wearing our regular clothes, jeans, sweatshirts, and our trusty old beat up slip on shoes. Coming up the mountain was our exact opposite. They were all wearing top of the line exercise clothes, spandex leggings, space age technology jackets, specially built day packs, trekking poles in their hands and hiking boots securely laced to their feet. We had to ask our selves, were we climbing the same mountain as they were?

But that is one of the things about Japan. No one does their hobby in halves. If you are a hiker, then you have all the best hiking gear and use it each and every time you go. If you decide to take up running then you outfit yourself and go out each time like you are a marathoner running the Tokyo Marathon. I am sure that there are many awesome sets of golf clubs or skis sitting in a storage shed that have been used one or two times. Here they were the members of the hiking club from somewhere, preparing to hike to the top and probably further. Our good guide book did mention that there was an excellent hiking trail that led to the next town. In fact it was at this point that we remembered that the train emptied out when we reached that station. We had thought it odd that the train had emptied there as it was even more desolate than Kurama, but now it made sense.

We pushed aside the worry about not having the proper gear to make it to the top and pushed onward. We found that the path to the top of this mountain was no where near as difficult as the trek to the top of the last one we climbed. This could have been due to the fact that the path today was stone paved and coursed its way up the mountain steadily. We found ourselves at the top in what seemed to be no time at all. In fact we thought that we must have arrived at the halfway point, but we had made it all the way to the temple. The view from the temple was astounding, not to mention the sight of the temple itself.

We could look out at all the tree covered mountains surrounding the area. It was a breathtaking sight to behold. The rising hills covered in green trees that stretched off into the distance gave me pause to think about the majesty of creation. Then we turned around and took in the manmade temple that sat on the side of this hill. The temple was beautiful to behold and Jenny wandered off to take a few pictures of the temple buildings while Logan and I played trains.

Flea Market

Years ago my Grandpa Henry loved to visit the flea market. He would spend his Saturday mornings combing the various stalls looking for junk. He did this because as we all know; one man’s junk is another man’s treasure. I was always impressed with his dedication, and I loved to see the latest treasures, but I really never saw the draw of the flea market. Now, however, I am hooked.

A couple Fridays ago we went to the largest flea market in Kyoto. Inside, outside and all around Toji Temple were booths selling anything and everything one could always want but never need. We were there to see what bargains we could find.

We each had our own little mental shopping list of things that we were on the lookout for. Jenny was hunting for a beautiful obi belt to go with her kimono. I was attempting to find a kimono that would fit my tall frame and consist of an interesting pattern. Logan as always was on the look out for toys and candy. We were hoping that we might be able to find interesting and affordable items that would facilitate positive memories of our time in Japan.

We hoped that if we made it to the market early enough in the morning we would escape the crowds and manage to see the best items before they sold. Apparently the crowd had the same idea. We were a bit later than we had expected to be, but it was only just turning to late morning. The sidewalk leading to the temple was filled with tables and booths all selling various wares. There were many of the usual food vendors that were selling the usual festival foods. There were some new foods this time too. We found a booth selling udon noodles and another selling bowls of ramen soup. There were many foods that I could not identify. People were selling spices, seaweeds, dried fish, and all sorts of interesting ingredients.

We continued along the sidewalk and eventually entered the grounds of the temple itself. The area inside the temple was filled with people. There were customers and vendors everywhere the eye could see. This was obviously the place to be. We took our time strolling around looking at all the things that were laid out for consuming. Many of the booths were selling things that bordered on antiques. There were antique pottery, antique cooking ware, antique kimonos, antique scrolls, and even a few antique swords. This was the place to be if you were looking for a bit of historic Japan.

After stopping to eat a small lunch of onigiri that we bought before we left Omi- hachiman we set off to look in earnest for our treasures. Wandering through the densely packed market was difficult at best. It actually became very hard to find our way through the lanes of traffic and looking at things buried in the piles was nearly impossible. We did manage to find some fun things that we were looking for. The sad thing in making the purchases we were unable to do something that is quite common at open-air markets around the world.

As much as we wanted to we could not haggle over the price of objects. Haggling is just not something that is done in Japan. It can be attempted but it is done at your own risk. Often if you try and offer a lower price to the seller they will take it as an affront and refuse to deal with you. Some will, but most have set their prices low and wont haggle. Not that we would have much luck attempting it with our limited knowledge of Japanese. Even without haggling we managed to get Jenny a nice obi that she was pleased with, and I found a kimono that struck me as quite handsome. Logan would have to wait to find a toy, but he was able to eat some candy. It just happened to be the kind that we brought from home.

We wandered the maze of a flea market for most of the morning and early afternoon. We had intended on visiting a different temple in Kyoto later in the afternoon, but our flea market adventure stretched so long we were not able to bus across town before it closed. San-Ju-San Temple would have to wait for another day. We did take sometime to check out some of the temple area at Toji though. There was a beautiful little pond that stretched before a towering pagoda where we sat and watched the fish and turtles swim.

We walked around some more after we took our little break. It was amazing to see so many beautiful things packed into such a small area. There were lots of handmade crafts that were stunning to behold. So much care and attention to detail for hand made items. Whether it was pottery or clothing all were crafted with care. Treasures to some, junk to others. It was amazing to behold and here we were in the middle of it all. All of it junk and being in the midst of it is our treasure.

Burning the Evidence - Evening

The afternoon began to wear on and our siesta time was drawing to a close. We moved down the steps to the party waiting in the parking lot and prepared to sojourn back to the mountain. We gathered with a collection of people that were also ready to go and see the action. We had been there to witness the sport once in the day already but most of our neighbors had not. It was a pleasant opportunity to walk once again with excellent company. Logan was able to feel like a king because he got to hold Mr. Mark’s hand on the way. We arrived just in time to see more of the floats bashing and crashing into each other.

We stood and watched as the monstrosities collided with great force on the street. It was not long before we decided to heed the call of dinner. We weaved our way through the crowd looking for a nice booth serving up some tasty treat for us to fill our empty bellies. Jenny and I decided that we wanted to eat the okonomiyaki, which has become one of our favorite treats. Okonomiyaki is sometimes called a Japanese pancake or Japanese pizza, though in truth it is neither of these things. It is flat like a pancake, and it is as common to Japan as pizza is to America; but truth be told, it is what it is, and it is delicious. Logan decided on yakisoba, and we all sat down to eat. We ate and watched the growing party. Everywhere were looked we saw people walking, sitting, eating, laughing and having a good time. We saw many of my students. They all made a point to come over and say hi to us, amazed that Kebin-Sensei is eating Japanese food and drinking beer. We sat and enjoyed our festival food dinner as the sun began to set and dusk began to settle.

With our food gone and our bellies full we decided to find a spot to claim as our own. We realized that the best location would be an elevated one. We decided to ascend to the top of the rock wall that surrounds Hachiman Shrine. The wall is about five feet tall and plenty wide enough to provide an excellent viewing location. Unfortunately we were not the only people to make this realization. The crowd on the wall was growing and we knew we must act quickly or lose our opportunity. We clambered up the piled rocks to the platform where we would be able to peer over the heads standing on the ground.

We watched as the commotion grew more and more raucous with every moment. Floats were entering the ground and being paraded around what on a normal day is a parking lot but today is a parade ground. The shouts of “mase – mase” and singing of the Sagicho Matsuri song grew louder and more frenzied. We watched as the floats were once again carried into the area, and once again the great colossuses were set to push and shove in their oversized sumo matches. They squared off to in a very important match this time. Last time it was for entering rights. Winner gets to go first, loser gets to follow behind. This time it was all on the line. Loser burns. This was the beauty contest. No swimsuit competition to determine the winner. The losers would go up in flames first; the winners would have the honor being allowed to live a little longer.

This is the essence of Sagicho. The floats are created to live the span of one short weekend. Committees from around town, one for each ward of the city, meet to build the float for their neighborhood. The floats are paraded, bashed, crashed, and eventually set ablaze. This is all then set to repeat the next year. This being our second Sagicho we had a small inkling of what the weekend held in store for us. We had the smell of the smoke lingering in our olfactory senses from last year. The entire point of the weekend is to let off steam and celebrate the fact that spring is approaching. The culmination of this celebration is the burning of the evidence.

This ritual burning was setting to commence soon. I was growing impatient as Jenny and Logan had left me alone so they could seek out restrooms for Logan. Soon the first float would be torched. The first every year is the children’s float. This allows the children who travailed so hard to create to take an active part in its destruction. There is a procession out of the shrine where the guest of honor carries out a lit torch. The torch is then presented to the float. This presentation is the beginning of the end for the float. The papers and streamers flowing off the top ignite first, followed closely by the dried food that creates the mosaic zodiac design. All this acts as kindling for the wood of the body of the float. The float burns down to ash in a matter of minutes. It starts the day as a towering beast standing twenty feet in the air and ends the day as a pile of ashes that get raked into the gravel of the parking lot.

I watched as the sun set and two floats paid tribute to the orb of fire that was now drifting to sleep in the west. Moments later Jenny and Logan came to rejoin me standing on the top of the wall bearing gifts. The best gift that could be offered at a time like this, Jenny held in her hands two cups of sake. That is what this festival is all about; fire and wine. I dropped one sealed cup in my jacket pocket and popped the top off the other one and look a sip. I handed Jenny the camera so she could snap a few pictures. Logan and I jumped to the ground to get closer to the action.

The evening was growing colder and the heat from the fire of the now slowly burning children’s float felt good. Standing on the ground with the sake warming me from the inside and the fire warming us on the outside Logan and I stood watching as burning embers from the streamers floated across the sky like magic butterflies. We watched as the participants danced and sang in the light of the bonfires that were their hard work and dedication. They ran in circles around their floats drinking sake from paper milk-style cartons. They passed the carton from person to person, urging each other to drink faster and more. Some danced because they could no longer walk straight. Some danced because they were caught up in the heat of the moment, possessed by the fire spirits. This is the essence of Sagicho.

Logan and I watched as the people cavorted and frolicked in the burning joy. We walked and watched as the people partied the night away. Soon enough though the time for us to take our leave and go home had come. The sun had set and the air grew colder. Logan’s eyes began to get that unmistakable look of tiredness that signals his need for sleep. We knew that our night was drawing to a close. Logan and I went back to the rock wall to collect Jenny and make our way home.

We all wandered towards the exit to get back to the street and find our way home. We walked away from the burning fires and towards our home. As we got nearer to the tori gate that marks the entry and the bridge that crosses over the canal we turned and took one more look at the amazing sight behind us. We looked forward across the bridge and saw that there were still floats there fighting for the right to enter the area and which would go up in flames first. We walked the dark streets from the excitement of the base of the mountain to the quiet and solitude of our home. Sometimes a party is nice, but it is always great to be able to come home.

Burning the Evidence - Morning

This was the morning we had been waiting for all year. We wanted to make Bacchus proud. It was the day of Sagicho. Sagicho is my favorite festival and the best one that we have been to here. It has all the elements of a truly epic party. There are crowds of people, lots of booze, and to top it all off there are huge amounts of fire as the cherry on top. All this and giant floats decorated with rats created out of dried food crashing and banging together, who could ask for anything more? Let’s go!

We headed off after a quick breakfast bound for the mountain. All the action would take place at or near the shrine located at the base of the mountain. Each of the different districts in the town of Omihachiman had been working to build a giant wooden float to parade around the streets near the mountain. The floats take months to build and they are crafted with care. Each year there is a different theme that rotates on a twelve-year cycle along with the Chinese Zodiac. This being the year of the rat all floats were to be decorated with rats. We hoped to find some of the floats on our walk to the yama like we did last year. We managed to walk all the way to the base of the mountain without catching sight of one of the illusive three-ton wooden behemoths.

We decided to wander around the back streets around the area. We managed to find one of the floats as finishing touches were completed before the parade began. We had a good time watching the folks make sure that every little detail was perfect for their walk. After seeing this float we were itching to see more. We started to wander back in the direction from whence we came. Rather than take the same path on the return we decided to walk along the canal. The canal was a pleasant place to walk along until we realized that we were on the wrong side and were unable to climb back up to the street level. Logan had really enjoyed walking along the little path that sits less than a meter above the level of the water. We found that we were stuck on the path and we needed to climb up a short rocky path to get where we wanted to be. We managed to scramble up the rocky path and made it up to the street where we were able to cross over the canal on the bridge to the other side.

Once on the other side of the canal it seemed to be a good time to enjoy some of the lunch we brought with us. We wandered down and found a bench where we took advantage of the spot to rest our bones while we ate our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and apple slices. We enjoyed our lunch and then it was off to find more of the gargantuan floats.

We sojourned back in the original direction we came from. Logan was scared that we were going home but we soon turned off the main road and found more of the floats. The first one we found was nice, but it was the second where we really had a lot of fun. One of the guys who worked on building this float is a member of the adult class I teach on Thursday night. Yasohiro was very glad to see us. Then he brought over his father and his dad’s friend to meet us. We had a great time visiting and hanging out with them. Yasohiro’s dad made a very good observation that Sagicho is not a festival it is a carnival. As it is a carnival it must be treated as such, and he handed me a beer. He also gave Jenny and Logan a can of fruit juice each. We then saw Koji, another member of my night class. He was getting ready to help carry the float on his shoulders. We took our leave and headed off to see some more.

We managed to find our way back to the main street just outside the shrine entrance. The street was now closed to automobile traffic, but not to pedestrians or giant wooden sculptures. This was a blessing because there soon would not be enough room for anything other than the mammoth creations and the people bearing them. The first of the floats that came down the street was the kids’ float. Children from all around the city create this float and though it is smaller than the rest it is still quite large and heavy. There were many children carrying the float, including three or four that I recognized from school. Two of the larger boys were students from my junior high, and from the grimace on their faces I knew that they would be sore the next day. They carried the float along the street, yelling and screaming and cheering their way along. They stopped in front of the tori gate that marks the entrance to the shrine area. Here they proceeded to dance their float. They first lifted it high into the air. Then they spun it around in a circle. Next they moved it a bit forward and spun again. Last they set their massive float down in an out of the way place in order to watch as others were brought in.　　

The next few floats entered in much the same way, only on a grander scale. Everything was bigger about the next floats. They were carried by bigger people, towered higher in the air, weighed more, and took more time to process to the entry tori. By the time the third and fourth floats were getting ready to enter the area at the base of the mountain there seemed to be a traffic jam forming. There was not going to be enough room for two floats to progress across the bridge at the same time. One would have to allow the other to go first. The real question was how to decide who would have the honor of being the first and who would be relegated to the second position. Now in a normal situation I would say that the proper way of settling any dispute here in Japan is by relying on the age-old method of Rock, Paper, Scissors. I have seen it time and time again. When there is a conflict to resolve the Japanese resort to the game they call Janken and we call Rock, Paper, Scissors. Winner takes all. When we flip a coin to decide; they Janken for it. But this was a contest between two giant floats created using dried food and wood, and these floats had no hands to create the signals for rock, paper or scissors. There would be only one way to decide a winner and that would be a grudge match.

The two massive creations of logs and mosaics of dried food were set down on their pedestals on the pavement. The two floats faced each other like two sumo wrestlers facing off in the ring. Giant logs crisscross through the float sticking out in front and behind the float by about two meters and on the side by about one. These giant poles give the people carrying the float something to lift the float using. Now they would serve the float in much the same way a bull moose uses it’s antlers during spring. The poles in the front of the float began to move up as the ones in the back were lowered to the ground. The men who were toting the float through the streets now took places at the back in an attempt to brace, support and push the float forward. Meanwhile the other team was completing the same procedure and was getting ready to push their float forward. Both teams began to chant and cheer their team on as they began to surge forward. The floats crashed into each other with tremendous force. We could feel a slight tremor in the earth beneath our feet as four tons of wood collided in the street. They pushed forward into each other with tremendous force. Neither side wanting to give an inch to the other as the long sticks in the front tangled and intertwined forming a massive bramble of sticks.

In the back of the float the men fought to make sure that their team gave no ground in a colossal shoving match. This was float sumo. Sumo is a sport of brute strength where two massive men attempt to push the other to the ground or out of the circle. The first to fall or leave the circle loses the game. The rules were the same here. The first to go down is the loser and must give way to the champion. After much jostling one finally did give and came crashing to the ground. This is a dangerous sport and lives are on the line. There have been instances when these gargantuan floats have crushed the men responsible for them. People run as they topple to the ground. It was amazing to watch them struggle and fight. Then one began to tip. Moments later it crashed down to earth and the participants were left to resurrect the beast.

We began to watch the people. Everywhere we looked the people were as colorful as the floats. The men carrying the floats were often more made up than the women watching. Multicolored hair is almost expected to match and coordinate with the bright colored happi coats and wild outfits. We saw one middle-aged man with giant hoop earrings and enough makeup to shame a streetwalker. Another guy was wearing nothing more than black stretch pants with a strategically placed flower and a Mexican wrestling mask. Another guy was wearing a tiger mask that in no way seemed out of place. Girls were dressed in their most fun outfits and the guys were wearing their flashiest duds. I felt only a little out of place in my normal everyday clothes. I am not sure if I would have felt comfortable wearing something more elaborate. Then again when fueled with enough sake anything is possible.

The sake and beer flows freely during Sagicho. Each float is followed on the parade by a smaller cart that houses the booze. The booze cart is there to refuel and keep the party flowing. This is the biggest and wildest party this city sees all year and everyone gets into the swing of things. This is a no-holds barred event. As we watched the first of the floats crash into one another on the streets we spied a dog sleeping on the sidewalk. Not more than two feet from his resting muzzle lay an empty beer can. Later as we walked through the area where all the food stalls are located we saw many of my students wandering. A clutch of junior high school boys was only able to giggle, say my name, and giggle some more. When I asked two girls from school what they were drinking they held their beer cans aloft and said in unison, “juice.” The sake keeps all the adverse elements at bay. The weather is usually cold, the floats heavy, days are long and well we just want to have fun.

In order to keep things fun we decided to head home and take a break before things heated back up in the evening. We left one party to find another. As we approached our apartment complex we saw that about twenty people had gathered for a pre-party. This is the way it is. Sagicho is a true party. And after a short respite we would be heading back into the fray.

Festival + Phallus = Epic Proportions (part 2)

Warning: This post contains frequent references to parts of the male anatomy not usually discussed in polite company. I will do my best to use terminology that is colorful, correct and proper without resorting to speaking like a sailor or a trucker.


It was not long before Logan began to grow restless and wanted to go for a walk. Jenny decided to take him for a stroll, to look around at all the different offerings at the food booths to see if there was anything fun to see and gawk at. After a few minutes they came back and Logan reported that he wanted one of his favorite festival foods, a Hello Kitty decorated chocolate covered banana with rainbow sprinkles. I said that it would be okay if he enjoyed a choco-banana after the parade. Jenny and I then started to discuss all the different crazy swag that we were observing in the area. I thought that it might be fun to have one of the plaques that were offered from the shrine as a little remembrance of our time. Jenny then stated that there was a special board that was being offered on this day that would be perfect. I had seen several people carrying around the pole that was decorated with two ribbons and a plaque. The ribbons were red and white and were tied to the top of the dowel along with two sprigs of dried rice shoot, and a plaque with a three dimensional penis affixed to it. I told her that that would be the perfect item to remember our day. She and Logan sallied forth once again to find the booth selling the trinket.

I waited in our spot patiently for the parade to begin. I could tell from the stream of people moving in our direction that the procession was under way. I worried that Jenny and Logan were not back from their errand yet. Just as I was about to give up hope that they would make it back in time to witness the spectacle they appeared from around the corner. Logan waving the streamer bespangled staff happily. They had managed to return just in time.

I could see off in the distance that there was a mass of costumed people coming our way. The first person, well lets say person, I saw when I looked using the zoom on the camera was a red faced demon. He was surrounded by a cluster of priests and other attendants, one of which was his standard-bearer. This was no ordinary banner though, which I am sure you have by now guessed. And if you guessed that the flag that accompanied the red faced demon bore the image of a penis then you score the points in this bonus round.
I reached over with both of my hands and used them to cover Jenny and Logan’s eyes. The penis on the flag was the most realistic portrayal of male human anatomy I have ever seen on a flag that was flapping in the breeze. Now to be honest I did not cover either of their eyes because I was to busy trying to snap the perfect shot of the flag because I knew that no one would believe my words and that I would need to have photographic proof. My words do not lie however unbelievable they may be.

The red faced demon and the penis flag were the first to make their way down the street. They were soon followed by a small portable shrine that contained some holy object which was locked away so we were unable to see. The interesting thing about this shrine was not the shrine itself, but the people who accompanied it. All of the men were wearing white clothes that had a very bed sheet appearance to them. They also had very large shoulders due to the giant shoulder pads that changed the proportions of their upper body, giving them a definite Quasimodo appearance.

It was not long before we were to see the main attraction. As the Large shrine made its way down the street I could see the sun reflect off the polished wood. There it was, a giant wooden penis, almost dancing down the street. The Phallus rested inside a shrine that was far too short and left the opposing ends poking out of the ends. The shrine was carried by men aged 42, which is considered an unlucky age for men in Japan. They lifted the shrine in the air bouncing the precious cargo. They would walk a dozen yards or so and then they would hoist the shrine higher into the air and spin it by running around in circles. This is obviously the best way to parade a penis down the street. Lift it into the air. Spin it around in a circle. Repeat.

The shrine made its way down the street and we watched it go. We could not watch for long though. We had to turn our attention to the 36 year old ladies, 36 is considered an unlucky age for women in Japan, who were following the shrine. Each of the ladies carried in her arms a smaller, more personal version of the phallus that just moments before had gone down the street. It was cocked in their arms like a baby. They were soon followed by a cart serving drinks, free drinks. I tried, but I was not able to grab one of the offered paper cups of sake. I should have been bolder and knocked down the people in front of me, but I was not that hard up for a drink. I also was once again busy trying to snap a picture of the people ladling rice wine into paper cups from a big wooden bucket. The free drinks were followed by another penis. This one was pointing straight up in the air and was being carried by two elderly men. They offered the opportunity to polish the knob to anyone wishing to. At one point there were three young women standing and waiting for their turn. The men carrying the phallus turned it on its side in order to reach it through the crowd. The young ladies giggled like school girls as they photographed their brave friend’s turn in touching the wooden penile sculpture. As she laid her hand on the wood the phallus was once again resurrected to its full height. The crowd burst out laughing, and the young lady who was responsible blushed as dark as I have ever seen a Japanese person blush.

This proved to be the end of the procession. We headed back to the shrine. While the parade was making its way to the front of the shrine, we were sneaking through the back. We weaved our way through the crowd to find an even larger mass of people waiting for the grand entrance. I moved my way as far to the front of the crowd as I could manage while Jenny and Logan stayed farther to the back. It was amazing to see all of the people gathered to see the entrance of a two-meter long penis. Even more amazing was the fact that I could understand what many of them were saying. This festival happened to be the first of the festivals that had the largest collection of foreigners that we have seen at an event here in Japan. It was wild, amusing and only a tiny bit disturbing to hear four or five different conversations centering on the giant penis that would be coming soon.

The parade once again drew near. All elements entered the grounds of the shrine in the same order. First the red faced demon and the graphic penis flag, followed by the smaller portable shrine, made their way through the parting crowd. The crowd erupted in a loud cheer when the phallic offering first entered. The men carried the shrine through the sea of people that parted as if Moses were leading. Once again the shrine bounced and bobbed along as the procession spun and circled with it. They then proceeded to march that wooden oscar mayer up to the door of the shrine. Many more cheers were called out as they entered the door of the building.

We then started to wander around the area, which was a difficult proposal. The sheer number of people gathered to see the shrine enter and enjoy the festive atmosphere made moving around difficult. We started to go in one direction but realized that it might be too difficult so we proceeded in the other direction. It proved to be a wise decision as this was the direction where the action was going to be. The next activity was going to be mochi throwing. Yes that exact same substance that a few weeks ago we witnessed brave women proving their strength with would be tossed off a two-story scaffold at the waiting crowd.

Jenny and Logan found a nice spot where they could watch out of harm’s way, but me, well I said, “Damn the torpeedos.” Once more into the fray, and I joined the gathered crowd. I did not have to wait to long, but each repeat of the announcement about how heavy and hard the mochi was and how the elderly and young children should refrain from participating, only made my anxiety grow. I looked out at the crowd and I saw the item that I should have brought if I wanted to catch some of the flying mochi. There far across the crowd I could see the arms of some elementary school boys holding aloft their baseball gloves. Now that was a good idea I thought to myself. Less of a good idea were the people I saw who were attempting to use a plastic grocery sack to net the airborn projectile. I could see how that would work in the end, the bottom of the bag ripping out and the mochi smashing into and breaking the nose of the catcher.

Eventually people did appear on the scaffold. One more announcement about how the elderly and young children should not participate in this dangerous event I began to wonder if I should employ the twelve-X zoom lens on my camera and move out of harms way, but the crowd was gathered to closely around me. I had nowhere to go. There was no escape. The people on the ledge began to uncover their piles of mochi and I began to wish for some hockey gear. The mochi started to fly. I wanted to catch one, but I didn’t. Catching it is said to bring good luck, or at least a broken finger or two. The mochi was about the size and weight of a hockey puck, maybe a little larger. Here it was flying out at me from a second story balcony like a slap shot. They were every where and my mind was made up to leave when the guy standing next to me got clocked in the head by a flying white hockey puck. I wandered over to where Jenny and Logan were standing in safety.

We figured that this would be the perfect time to visit the rest of the shrine. Jenny had had an opportunity to look around while I was waiting to take pictures of the other things and she was eager to show me a few of the gems. The first place that we had to see was the small shrine filled with offerings and many carved wooden phalluses. There were also the stones. Jenny had found that there were stones that looked like a penis. In fact there were more than one. We took some time to look at all the different rocks and stones that took on different shapes. Then it was time to enjoy a banana.

We had promised Logan a Hello Kitty chocolate covered banana. We walked over and picked out the banana that he wanted and we found an out of the way spot to enjoy it. We sat and giggled and laughed about all the things we had seen that day. Before long it was time to head back to the station and get on the train to head back toward home. It was at the ticket machine that we saw our neighbor Kyle, he had come too, and we had another good laugh with him. We then boarded the train and headed back to Nagoya Station.

We found Nagoya Station to be very big. It was amazing to wander around the upscale department store inside the station. We managed to find a perfect restaurant to eat some dinner at. Can you guess what it was? If you guessed ramen then you have hit a homerun. It seems as if we always eat ramen after a big adventure. After ramen for dinner it was time to go next door to the Starbucks for a Caramel Machiato. Then it was time to head home. We got on the train and headed back to Omihachiman. A few hours later we were back in our own apartment ready for a nights sleep before we headed off to do the whole festival again the next day.

Coming soon the bacchanalian event of the year: Sagicho. Mase!! Mase!!

Festival + Phallus = Epic Proportions

Warning: This post contains frequent references to parts of the male anatomy not usually discussed in polite company. I will do my best to use terminology that is colorful, correct and proper without resorting to speaking like a sailor or a trucker.



I never, in my life thought I would be exited to see a giant penis. But I found myself on a street in a little town outside of Nagoya waiting for a giant wooden “man stump” to make its way through. Now let me explain, last Saturday we went to the Tagata Honen Sai Festival. Yeah, that's right we had come all this way to see a penis festival. Every year on March fifteenth, Tagata Shrine in a small town north of Nagoya holds a fertility festival dedicated to bringing about a bountiful harvest. This festival is one of a few of its type in Japan. We learned about it from some of the other English teachers who live in our prefecture, and decided that this was not something to miss out on. So we made plans to go to Nagoya. Is peer pressure what lead me to stand on a sidewalk at two o’clock in the afternoon waiting for a fourteen-foot phallus to be paraded down the street?

No way! I live for experiences. We will only be in Japan for about another four months, or so before we find a new home in a new place, so we have to make the most of our time. I mean come on, who doesn’t want to see a mammoth member being carried along the streets of semi-rural Japan. We traveled the two hours by train to this little town and we were going to have fun. We were greeted upon our arrival by the sight of the souvenir stalls. This is not an unusual sight at a festival or shrine. But the gifts that they were selling at this particular festival were different. The first booth was filled with some of the usual sights and gifts, food. It is very common in Japan to bring small pieces of food; cookies, cakes, etc. back from a trip to give to friends, family and coworkers. I am not sure however if I would be comfortable giving some of these food items as a gift. I think that I would be okay giving a sucker that is molded in the shape of a penis to a friend as a gag gift, but to family or a coworker, never. Yet here they were, under the tent roof, giant multicolored penis lollipops. It was odd and interesting to my eyes when I saw many people, both male and female, enjoying them as the day progressed. We walked farther down the sidewalk and were greeted by another table of wares. This one was home to some hand carved statues. All of the carvings took on the shape of a penis. There were little statues with faces carved into the head. It was comical enough to get a chuckle out of us. We could not stand and laugh long though; the crowd began to push us along.

We followed the crowd as they lead us toward the first of the two shrines that we would be visiting. A large throng of people had gathered inside the shrine to catch an initial glimpse of the "sacred object". There were many people inside the temple precincts and it was difficult to see. We wandered around the inside and managed to worm our way into a position where we were able to view the oversized phallus. There it was in all its glory. Sitting in its portable shrine the two ends sticking out of either end. It did sort of look like a giant hot dog in a tiny bun. The best part was not seeing all the people, foreign and Japanese alike snapping pictures, but in seeing all the people waiting in line to have their picture taken with it. We toured the grounds of the shrine before making our exit to go and eat some lunch.

We wandered the parade route trying to find a good spot to park our buns and eat some lunch and view the parade. There was a nice walking path that would make a great spot to eat some onigiri and other snacks. We even managed to find a bakery where we were able to purchase some nice doughnuts. We found a spot and decided to stake it out as our own. We ate our lunch and waited. And waited. And waited. We slowly realized that we probably were thinking that the parade began earlier than it actually did. There were ten minutes till we thought that the procession began and there was no indication that it was going to begin anytime soon. We decided that it would be in our best interest to ditch our spot and take the time to explore some more.

We headed off on a happy trail to the second shrine. If we thought that the first shrine was crowded it was nothing compared to this one. Once we finally managed to penetrate the crowds of people milling around the outer edges we were in for even more of a treat. We found many more of the same types of food vendors we usually see at a festival. Only this time many of the foods had a penile twist. My favorite example would either be the chocolate covered bananas that looked like a penis or the frankfurter that had more of a definite wiener appearance.

We did our best to look around the shrine but it was very crowded. There were people everywhere and the situation was getting hairier by the moment. I was afraid that we would get separated and one of us might get lost. The first thing that I noticed while wandering around the area was the men who were doing a sword demonstration. They were dressed in the same style kimono that the ancient samurai wore. They were using their katana to make precision slices through a bundle of reeds that were rolled into a tube about the same thickness of a human neck. It was amazing to see them chop it into thirds with three quick movements. I watched as the last two swordsmen gave their demonstration. Then I looked around to see if I could find my wife and child who had wandered off. I found them staring at the various plaques. Every shrine sells a plaque that visitors can inscribe with their wish or dream for the future. The plaque is then hung in a special area of hooks. There are usually hundreds of them hanging on the pegs. It was no different at this shrine. I saw that only the plaque was different than what I was used to observing. I should not have been shocked at the picture that appeared on it. After all the plaque at the Fushimi Inari Shrine, which is famous for the fox, features the illustrious kitsune fox on it’s plaque, and another shrine has a horse on it’s. So I should have been prepared to see the drawing found on this plaque featured a penis. What was a bit comical was the fact that some people had drawn additions to their illustration. There was one that added a smiley face to the tip. Another turned theirs into a panda, another was a dog, and they were all very creative.

We decided that the time had come to venture forth and stake our claim to a location to view the parade. We wandered down the parade route to find a good location where we would be able to see the, well, action. We hoped that it would not be long, but in truth we had no idea how long it would take. We eventually found a nice spot in the shade. Compared to the same weekend last year this day seemed like summer. The sun shone down on us warming our skin to the point that we did not need our coats. We could not have been happier because this very weekend one year ago it decided to snow. If this weather held it would make one of the most epic weekends as near perfect as can be. We stood in our spot and waited for the procession to begin.

Graduation Day

I hate graduations. Some may say that it is because I don’t like saying goodbye, but that is not it. I do hate to say sayonara to the students who are leaving. I always have and I always will, but that is not the reason I hate attending graduation. The real reason is the music. I have never been a big fan of that Pomp and Circumstance. I always end up singing the alternate lyrics my sister taught me, “My reindeer flies sideways. Your reindeer flies upside down. Blah, blah blah, soooomething. Your reindeer is dead!” I do not really have a good reason and I can’t explain it, but I really hate that song.

Well imagine my surprise and delight when I found out that this particular song is not played at graduations here at Hachiman Junior High School. In fact there is not much in common with an American graduation ceremony. At the same time not all that much is different either. Lots of pomp, tons of circumstance, but at least there was no Pomp and Circumstance.

Graduation was on Tuesday, but the whole thing got started on Monday. Four out of the five classes for the day were cancelled to make time for practice. The students all filed into the gymnasium after first period to get ready for the ceremony the next day. They started by practicing the school song. The student body sang a beautiful rendition of the song over and over. They must have sung that song close to ten times in a row. Just as I was starting to feel bad for them it was time to move on and begin the difficult practice. It was time to perfect the art of standing and bowing in unison. The students were told to stand, bow, and then sit. They where expected to do so in almost perfect unison. All in all it was two hours well spent, and helped facilitate a wonderful graduation ceremony on Tuesday morning.

Tuesday morning came and it was time for me to pull my beautiful blue suit out of the closet and get ready for work. Now I do not usually wear a suit to school but today was a special day. Boy oh boy did I feel out of place as I strolled into the office that morning. There I was in my best blue suit and I looked around at the other teachers. Many of the female teachers were wearing formal kimono, as was one of the male teachers. The rest of the school staff was casually wearing their best black suits. To be honest I did know in advance that all the other teachers would be wearing black as it is the color of formality here. Last year when I was told that I would need to wear formal clothes to graduation I was instructed to wear a black suit. I explained that I did not own a black suit and instead would be wearing a blue one, they got a bit flustered. A few days later I was reminded that I needed to wear a black suit. I again stated that I did not have a black suit and would wear my blue one; I was told that everyone else would be wearing black. It was only when I stated that I did not think that I would be able to find a suit in Japan because I was too tall that I was given special permission to wear my blue suit.

Graduation was set for ten o’clock that morning. There would be no classes for the day. There was the usual meeting first thing in the morning, and then students began to go to the gym for the graduation ceremony. Parents of the graduating third graders began to arrive and found seats at the back of the gym. The gym began to fill. Seats were in three different sections. The largest of the areas was for the non-graduating students to sit. These were the first and second graders. Another smaller section was for the parents. This section became filled with moms and dads all dressed very nicely in their black suits. The next section was reserved for the distinguished guests. These guests of honor were the leaders of the PTA and the principals of the elementary schools and kindergartens that feed into Hachiman Junior High. The last section, and the one closest to the stage, was reserved for the graduating third graders.

The distinguished guests of honor were ushered to their seats and once they were seated the lights were dimmed and the procession began. Each homeroom entered the gym in a double file line. They proceeded to walk down the center aisle and split to sit on either side. Once the third graders had entered it was time for all practice to pay off. The student body was instructed to stand, which they did, in unison. Next it was time to sing the national anthem and then the school song. The VIPs were introduced. Next it was time to award the diploma. Each home room teacher read off the names of the members of their class members. The students then filed up to the stage, received their certificate from the principal, bowed, and exited back to their seat. Next it was time to listen to the commencement speeches. There were two, one from the principal and one from the president of the PTA. There were also some short speeches delivered by students. Last it was time for the good-bye song. The students all sang this to the departing third graders as they will disperse and attend many different high schools next year.

By noon I was back sitting at my desk and ready to eat a sushi lunch provided to all the teachers. Though there are enough differences to make graduation here uniquely Japanese, a graduation is still graduation. They are just remarkably better with no “Pomp and Circumstance”.