Matsuri da! (31): To worship is human, to wreck divine

THE SHEER DIVERSITY AND BREADTH OF ACTIVITIES in Japanese festivals can stagger the imagination and challenge the credulity of foreigners. In contrast, many Japanese have a somewhat blasé attitude toward them because they’re part of the wallpaper of life they’ve grown accustomed to since birth. They see the photos and articles in the back of the newspaper they’ve been seeing ever since they started to read the newspaper, think, ‘Oh yeah, it’s time for that one again,’ and turn the page.

Some festivals, however, make even the most indifferent Japanese sit up and take notice, and one of them was held last weekend. It is so unabashedly violent that it approaches the point of paganism, and a full report presented on one of the morning shows on network television last Monday left even the on-camera personnel dumbstruck.

That was the Abare Festival conducted by the Yasaka Shrine in Ushitsu, Ishikawa Prefecture. Abare means to run amok or go on a rampage, and that’s the perfect description of what happens during the event, which is an intangible cultural property of the prefecture and the first of the so-called Kiriko Festivals held from July to September in the Noto area.

A kiriko is a type of float made with plain wood, and has tall, rectangular columns used as lanterns at night.

Starting in the afternoon of the first day, the young men of Ushitsu parade 40 of the kiriko throughout the town until evening, when they gather at the seaside. At around 9 p.m., they move to an area in front of the local municipal offices, where a roaring bonfire blazes seven meters skyward. Ignoring the flames and sparks, the men surround the fire and break into frenzied dances.

Those who’ve read previous festival reports here will not need to be told that all the men have been drinking sake from the time they changed into their loincloths and happi coats, and by now are as drunk as lords.

The next day, the 40 kiriko are replaced by two smaller mikoshi, or portable shrines, which are said to house the divinity. These are called Abare Mikoshi, and they too are carried throughout the town at night.

Local legend has it that the divinity welcomes a rough reception. The reasons for this are not entirely clear, but the young men of the area believe it, because they proceed to give the divinity just what it wishes for–a rough reception indeed. While carrying the mikoshi on two long poles through the streets at night, they stop now and again to stand the poles on end vertically and turn the mikoshi over, slamming them violently into the street. For a change of pace, they slam the mikoshi into walls instead.

Their route takes them to a bridge, where they throw the mikoshi into the river below and follow it by jumping in themselves. (This not exactly the safest of recreations—the water is only waist deep.) Rough is how the divinity likes it, so that’s how the divinity gets it, as the men again stand the poles on end vertically in the river bottom, and forcefully slam the portable shrines into the water while chanting Chosa! Chosa!

By now, it’s late at night, so from there they carry the mikoshi to a bonfire at the Yasaka shrine, and–you guessed it–they stand them up vertically yet again and smash them into the flames until they become almost unrecognizable. This is considered to be an offering to the divinity at the shrine. This year, one of the carriers got caught under a mikoshi as it was slammed into the street and had to be taken to the hospital by ambulance.

The Abare Festival is said to have originated about 330 years ago to disperse a particularly violent series of plagues that ravaged the area.

Bonfires, drinking, wild dancing, demolition…it has all the ingredients of a rock video or the extracurricular activities of British soccer hooligans.

But in Ushitsu, it’s a centuries-old religious observance.

Think I’m exaggerating? Then take a look at this site called the Abare Festival Photo Gallery, featuring a series of snapshots taken during the event in 2005. There’s no text, but you won’t need one–it follows the sequence I described above.

You might acquire a new perspective on the concept of performing one’s civic duty.