Matsuri da! (2): A cornucopia of fun

IF FREE ENTERTAINMENT is what you’re looking for, there’s no better place to find it than at a Japanese matsuri, or festival. Held throughout the year in locations ranging from the smallest villages to the largest cities, matsuri are a wild and profligate combination of light, color, music, and motion. The basic elements of some have been unchanged for more than a millenium.

Traditional clothing is the rule. For the men, this usually consists of short happi coats and loincloths, both in the heat of summer and the dead of winter. Women wear the same happi coats or multicolored kimono, depending on the event. Sometimes they sport unique headgear–during the summer festival of Yamaga, a small town in Kumamoto Prefecture, for example, a thousand women wear lanterns made of Japanese paper that are tied to their heads and illuminated. I’ve been to this festival, and words cannot describe the sight of these women with lighted lanterns on their heads parading down the city’s streets and in an open field at night, dancing to a centuries-old melody.

Attend a festival, and you’ll often see large groups of men pulling elaborately decorated, wheeled floats where musicians or other performers are perched, or carrying mikoshi, conveyances used to transport the spirit of a Shinto shrine deity. Though the floats or mikoshi often weigh several tons, these are not stately processions. The men sprint as they pull the floats—sometimes down the side of a mountain–and when they carry the mikoshi, they energetically lift and lower it and snake from side to side along the street to celebrate the power of the deity’s spirit.

Even a partial list of festival events nationwide staggers the imagination. One city has a tug-of-war contest between two teams of hundreds of men using a rope weighing several tons—and both teams have attack squads that cross the line to hinder the opposing team. There are night parades of men balancing poles up to 10 meters long with tiers of lanterns hung on crosspieces five meters wide on their shoulders, heads, and hips. There are horse races, mounted archery competitions, Chinese-style dragon dances, torchlight parades, battles between competing mikoshi resulting in the destruction of the loser, fireworks, bonfires, kite-flying, ice and snow sculptures, drumming, puppet plays on floats, floats with mechanical dolls, screaming, shouting, eating, drinking, and, in Tokyo, samba dancing.

The matsuri are mostly Shinto in origin and conducted under the direction of a local Shinto shrine to thank the deity for good harvests, or to pray for good health and fertility. And in Japan, where people have no problems calling a spade a spade, this means a few festivals feature a parade with a penis or vagina float pulled right down Main Street, where even the kids can see it.

There is no better example of the diversity of Japanese festivals than in two annual events that already have been conducted since the New Year, both very close to where I live. These are the Tama Seseri at the Hakozaki Hachiman-gu (Shinto shrine) in Fukuoka City, and the Oniyo Fire Festival at the Tamatare shrine in Kurume, Fukuoka Prefecture.

It’s cold in Fukuoka City on January 3, but that hasn’t stopped men of all ages from stripping down to a loincloth to battle in the Tama Seseri (Gem Hunt) for the past 500 years. The gems are two large wooden balls representing the male and the female, or the positive and negative principles in the universe, which are enshrined at the temple. Touching the male tama, which is 28 centimeters in diameter and weighs eight kilograms, is said to bring good fortune. Benefits also accrue to the team that captures it. If the land team takes possession, they will enjoy a rich harvest in the upcoming year. If the sea team captures the gem, the fisherman will be blessed with a bountiful catch.

The action starts when the two gems are ritually cleansed at the shrine, after which they are taken to the Tamatori Ebisu shrine about 300 meters away. The priest tosses the male gem to the waiting participants, first to a group of boys, and then to the two groups of men.

This is not the relaxed competition of beer league softball. The men push and elbow each other out of the way, and even climb on each other’s shoulders, to gain possession of the prize. Meanwhile, the spectators splash water on them from the roadside in temperatures that usually hover just above freezing at this time of the year.

The origins of this festival are unknown, but legend has it the reason they strip to loincloths is that kimono either got in the way or got shredded as they fought for the gem.

They’ve got a better way to deal with the winter cold in Kurume, just a 30-minute train ride from Fukuoka City. That’s the location of the Oniyo Fire Festival, one of the three largest fire festivals in the country. The three hundred men participating also will strip down to loincloths, but they will be much warmer than their Fukuoka City counterparts. They will be carrying huge torches in a procession instead.

As is customary with Shinto festivals, the preparations begin in advance. On the last day of the previous year, the presiding Shinto priest performs a seven-day purification ritual. This involves daily washing in the Arai River and prayers in the shrine itself for a bountiful harvest, health and happiness. Then, in a special ceremony, he summons the fire demon with a sacred stone. This will ignite the fire used to light the torches.

And when I say torches, I do not mean Olympics-sized portable handheld equipment that conforms to the local municipal fire code. Each of the six torches used is a meter in diameter, 13 meters long, and weigh more than two tons each. There is one torch for each of the six neighborhoods in the district where the festival is conducted. The torches are made of bamboo and are wrapped in 365 lengths of rope, one for each day of the year. Light these babies up and the city is either purified or burnt to the ground.

The men carry the torches in a procession, first seven times around the shrine, and then twice to the Arai River and back, to drive evil spirits out of the city and bestow fertility and prosperity on the citizens. They’ve been performing this ritual for roughly 1,600 years, so it seems to be working.

The action begins after 9:00 p.m. on January 7th, when the shrine lights are put out and a bell is rung. Groups of men carry the torches to the shrine, supporting them with bamboo stakes. The priest emerges and lights the torches with the flame from the fire demon.

Then, for the next two hours, the men carry the torches back and forth to the river to the accompaniment of taiko drums, chanting, and hordes of spectators. The people of the town believe it is important to be touched by the sparks from the flames because they are being purified and blessed.

Imagine a two-hour procession of flame, pounding drums, chants, nearly naked men, and sparks singeing away your sins. It’s no surprise to me that the town has enjoyed fertility for a more than a millennium and a half. If I were a part of that festival, I’d be ready to start my own fertility ritual right after I got home.

Fireworks and barbecued hot dogs on the Fourth of July? Hah! I’ll take the Oniyo Fire Festival every time!