As soon as the academic quarter ends in two weeks, we’re forking the office over to a professor who could make better use of it. This isn’t such a bad thing for me since I’ve got stuff to do in Dr. Wilson’s Phonetics Lab. I’ll be getting some decent work done this summer thanks to the fact that he’s already given me two opportunities for research projects, one of which could very well lead to publishing a co-written paper with my name on it. Maybe I won’t be useless this summer!
Anyway, the highlight of this update happened…3 weeks ago. Whatever, it was still a blast. Hiroshi took the 4 of us out east to the coastal town of Iwaki to partake in the annual Yotsukura festival. The night before the festivities began, his lovely aunt made us a feast of a dinner and we crashed at his grandmother’s house.
Bright and early the next morning, we headed to the local train station to meet up with a whole bunch of Brazilians, Australians, Hawaiians, Japanese, and the like. Hiroshi managed to band together a ragtag group of foreigners to help cart around the mikoshi (portable, miniature shrines) all day. The purpose of the festival is for various organizations in town to gather offerings for the local temples and shrines. And, as it turned out, the responsibility of carrying one of the largest mikoshi quite literally fell upon our shoulders.
So, around 8:30 a.m., we all geared up in traditional mikoshi-carryin’ garb which included: hachimaki (headbands), happi (festival jackets sporting the name of a family, group, etc.), sarashi (a cloth tightly wrapped around the stomach to support the back while carrying the mikoshi), funky tiny shorts that gave you a wedgie no matter how you wore them, and tabi (split-toe lightweight shoes). The alternative to said restrictively cleaving shorts was the equally liberating (and revealing!) yet traditional fundoshi. It’s basically a piece of cloth wrapped around your crotch like a male g-string. We signed Andrew up for one. He didn’t know. It was pretty funny.
Things finally got rolling around 9:30 a.m. when all the different groups met up in front of the main temple to carry out their respective mikoshi. First was the ceremonious pouring of sake on the cloth-bound joints of the mikoshi base, then the not-so-ceremonious drinking of sake, and then a hearty spirit-rallying mikoshi-pumping dance around the front of the temple. It was right about then that I realized I was gonna be in pain by the end of the day. Besides our group being about 1/3 women, we were also at least 1/3 Japanese. See, I’m roughly 6-7 inches taller than the average Japanese, which meant a large part of the weight tended to fall on me. None of the other guy whities were any better off, though. Luckily, there were so many in our group that relief was often and available. Besides, free *ahem* recreational beverages all day made the going a bit easier!
And so we paraded about town for the greater part of 6-7 hours. The highlight of the adventure was definitely when 3 of the groups, including ours, took the mikoshi about waste-height into the ocean to pay respects to the ocean god. They stayed out there for a good 10 minutes or so before bringing the mikoshi back in for a delicious home-made lunch break.
That night, we were all treated to a complimentary sento and dinner by a local inn. The party commenced, and everybody let loose after a long, fun, shoulder-bruising day. Several of us hit up a karaoke box afterward, and somehow 11 of us ended up crashing at a cool German dude’s apartment. Marcus is awesome.
The next day was relaxing, though, thanks to some free tickets to a pool and spa resort called Hawaiians. We kicked it there for quite a while that day, saw a cheesy magic show, and went in about 5 sentos. Hiroshi loves him some sento.
All the pain and whining aside, it was a heck of an experience that I was really glad to have had. It was awesome to see so many people from different backgrounds and levels of Japanese proficiency come together in one place to take part in a little coastal town’s annual tradition.
So, much more recently, I climbed a mountain! Tuesday morning at 4 a.m., Jamie and two of our Japanese friends, Eri and Kanako, set out for lovely Mt. Bandai (that’s Bandai-san in Japanese). Even though Kanako took us a good halfway up by car, we hiked the last 1.9 kilometers on foot. It was pretty smooth sailing the whole time, except for the incredibly steep inclines, muddy patches, parts where I kept busting my head on tree branches, and ripping my pants wide open. Thanks to Jamie’s foresight and handy roll of duct-tape, my pants saw Mt. Bandai conquered, but have since been laid to rest for good.
Things got stinky for a while when we passed through the sulfur springs. Maybe if someone hadn’t mud-stomped the sign into the ground, I would’ve realized it says “Entry Prohibited.” Whatever. I don’t speak this language.
After about 4 hours of climbing and frequent resting on my part, we arrived at the peak. There’s a lovely sign that lets you know what a wonderful accomplishment you’ve made climbing a 1819m tall mountain. We chilled at the summit for a while and chowed down on some onigiri before heading back down. Oh, and there was a nice little rest-house on the way where I had a delicious bowl of amazake, or partially fermented rice soup. It’s way more delicious than it sounds, take my word for it.
At any rate, things are about to get a little different. In just 2 weeks, classes are ending, and Andrew’s heading back home to start up an internship. Other than that, the office change-up means I’ll be seeing less of these guys and more of my lab-mates. Maybe these new weekly Japanese classes will give my learning a bit of a boost, but I’m not counting on them for much. I need to hang out with people who don’t speak English.
That’s it, I’m going to Kanazawa.
有言実行 ＝ ゆうげんじっこう ＝ yugenjikko ＝ carrying out one’s words, making good on one’s promise
