Beyond the Bucket List

I assume you've heard the term bucket list before.  It's a phrase that implies there are things you HAVE to see, generally before you kick the bucket, but people also use it for singular trips.  The bucket list of things you have to do when you visit Japan, for example.  The thing is, I don't actually like this term.  Maybe I'm too old for it - in a way similar to the fact that I'm too old to really understand bullet journals (they happened after my time, yo) - but I think the bigger problem is that they deny the reality that there are layers and layers of possibilities in every trip.

I'd been resisting the pull of Japan since leaving, telling myself that I needed to buckle down and save up before I went back, because when I went back I was going to DO ALL THE THINGS!  I'd like to say that this was very practical of me, and applaud myself for not giving in to temptation...but I'm not really a very practical person.  As you know by now if you read my last post, my resolve broke about a month ago, and I started thinking about what else I could do in my favorite city in Japan.

See, my first go-round was all about geisha, shrines, and castles.  My focus shifted before I came back three years ago, when I went to about a bajillion festivals and art workshops.  Last fall I planned my trip around art exhibits and yokai hunting.  But the thing is there is ALWAYS something else to do there.  For example, the Ningyo Kuyo at Hokyo-Ji.  I've been wanting to come to this ceremony since I first learned that doll memorials were a thing in Japan, and this time the dates finally lined up.  I went to the Ningyou Kanshasai at Meiji Jingu, but this was completely different - more intimate and ceremonial.  Hokyo-Ji is a Buddhist nunnery temple where the head priestess was traditionally an imperial princess.  Normally they hold the ceremony outside, but since it was kind of rainy, we were gathered on the porch of the garden.  I ended up with front row "seats" - before it started they ushered all the foreigners to sit on tatami mats on the left side of the ceremony - and although it was a struggle to stay awake after about five minutes of chanting while different VIPs made their presentations, I was rewarded in the end with a musical performance (how much do I miss taiko?  SO much) and maiko dances.  Sadly I still haven't gotten to see the funeral pyre, but I guess that's just another reason to go back - I hear Tokorozawa holds one in June...

Another temple I neglected on past trips was Kosan-Ji.  This is where the Choujuu-Giga - a series of scrolls depicting animals doing wild and crazy things - were created.  They're often considered the earliest manga, and although I'd wanted to see where they came from the last time I was in Kyoto, there's never enough time to do everything.

From a subway station near my hotel I could take one bus all the way to the temple parking lot, so it seemed like the time was right to finally make it.  Actually finding the bus was the hardest part - it was one of those pesky JR buses that doesn't have a number, and as much as I love Google maps, they still haven't figured out bus stops.  The temple was beautiful, and walking across its wooden floors in my sock feet as I soaked up the sun was relaxing.  But its best feature was probably how it demonstrates one of the things I love the most about this place.  Kyoto is definitely a city, but all along its fringes are these beautiful bits of nature - mountains, forests, a lake.  I've said it so many times that it hardly bears repeating:  I'm a city girl through and through.  But I grew up in the country, and I've lived in Mongolia so many years that I also enjoy leaving civilization behind every once in a while.  Kyoto gives you both.

I steered clear of art museums this time but found more than enough art along my way.  I stumbled across yet another Zen Buddhist temple as I was cycling around Gion on my fifth day, Kennin-Ji.  I decided to go in on a whim - I needed to park my bike somewhere, since I was thinking about getting some ties cut that morning and Yasui Konpiragu doesn't have bike parking - but it turned out to be a serendipitous whim.  I was struck immediately by the beauty of the gardens, most likely because I've been building one in which to display my sacred relics.  If anything, I guess that was the driving force behind a lot of the sightseeing I did during this trip - later the same day I went to Eikan-Do specifically to see their gardens.

But Kennin-Ji also had some great art.  They had screens of Fuujin and Raijin - gods of wind and lightning - possibly the originals, since they seemed to be selling an awful lot of swag featuring them.  But they also had an incredibly beautiful contemporary sumi-e painting of twin dragons in the main prayer hall, done to commemorate the 800th anniversary of their founding.  When I left the temple, I felt like I'd done my professional development for the week, and felt just that much less guilty about wasting time on shopping.

I did not, though, end up going to Yasui Konpiragu afterwards.  See, in addition to a shit ton of shopping and hanging out with my padawan, I was looking forward to some quality time with Sensei, who turned out to be on vacation the same week as me, and announced that she'd be coming through Kyoto on her way back from Shikoku after I booked my ticket.  I realized that she was the perfect person to go with to get my ties cut.  See, Yasui Konpiragu's kamisama is famous for cutting ties with prejudice, and after getting yet another email from our favorite cyberstalker, I figured I could use a good tie-cutting.  Afterwards we wandered up to Yasaka Jinja, and then back toward Sanjo where her hotel was, stopping at Red Rock for lunch.  I hadn't realized til I saw her how much I missed her.

After a full day of shopping in Osaka on Saturday, trying to scurry back to the hotel through the rain while protecting my treasures, I kind of just wanted to eat yakiniku and stay in for the rest of the night.  But there was one, last thing I had to do; after flopping on the bed for about a half hour, I realized I'd be pissed at myself if I missed it, so I blow-dried my clothes, trudged down to the bus stop, and embarked on my way to Taishogun Street.  I went there last fall to hunt yokai, but I missed the main event - the Hyakki Yagyu, or Night Parade of 100 Demons.  Given my own particular idiom, this was totally unacceptable, and since it was happening while I was there this time, I really had to make it.  The Japanese do cosplay like nobody else in the world, with the end result being that you really felt like you were mingling with myths on the street.  Eventually musicians joined us and began to play - oh my taiko! - and the ayakashi danced off into the night.

I continued down the street past the stalls of the Mononoke Ichi - a market selling yokai goods - just narrowly resisting the temptation to buy a paper kitsune lantern (it was 3,000 yen and I was already bringing back both kitsune AND a lantern, or else I might have succumbed).  Further on Daishogun Hachiman Jinja was lit up with lanterns and stalls selling food, and I couldn't resist the lure of one more kakigori before I left.  Everyone should be so lucky as to both start and end a week in Kyoto with a matsuri.

Written in the Stars

Unless you’re just now tuning in, you probably already know that the clock’s almost run out on my time in Japan.  It’s been two and a half weeks since I said, “Sayonara,” to my students, and a week later I checked out of the school.  Since then I’ve been marking time...ostensibly packing and cleaning, but in actual fact I'm working on finishing this post the night before take-off, during a break from my cleaning and final packing.

I wish I could say it was because I’d been living my best life with everything Japan has to offer before I go, but the truth is, I’ve been moping (among other things).  I did, however, manage to experience one last festival, Tanabata.

Tanabata is a festival based on the story of two lovers, Orihime and Hikoboshi.  According to Wikipedia, Orihime’s daddy, the Sky King, set her up with a cow boy, Hikoboshi, because she was too busy weaving to go find herself a man.  They hit it off but - as you do when you have a new love interest - they immediately stopped being useful in any way, shape, or form, which was a problem for both the cows and the Sky King, who apparently had a side hustle selling the cloth Orihime wove.  So he separated the newlyweds by sending them to opposite sides of the Milky Way.

Of course, this broke Orihime’s heart, and after crying for a really long time the Sky King took pity on her and allowed them a conjugal visit once a year - on the seventh day of the seventh month.  Which to me seems hardly better than not seeing each other at all, but what can I say?  I’m a cynic.

So how do you celebrate Tanabata?  You write a wish on a slip of paper and tie it to a bamboo branch.  Yeah.  That’s pretty much it.  Like Setsubun, you don’t have to go anywhere to celebrate...but it’s more fun that way.

I’ve been seeing bamboo branches and big streamers around town over the last few weeks, but I decided that - since I was going to be hanging around til then, I wanted to go to Shitamachi for their street festival.  I mean, c’mon.  Last weekend in Japan, you know?

Shitamachi goes by another name, though...Kappabashi, and this was another reason I wanted to go there.  Kappa are a kind of turtle-ish youkai, and one of the creatures in my final nihonga painting.  Sensei saw me drawing one not too long ago, and - ever the critic! - told me that it was too cute, that kappa are supposed to have big bellies and be scary.  To that, my rebuttal is that there were plenty of kawaii kappas decorating the buildings and on the streets of Shitamachi.

There’s even a small kappa temple, Sougen-ji just off the shopping street.  I’d read about it (on Atlas Obscura, I believe) before my first trip to Tokyo, but I’ve never had a reason to visit Kappabashi til now.  Apparently Shitamachi came by its unusual name because once upon a time, it was overrun with the critters.  The locals built the temple to appease the kappas, and even now you’ll see cucumbers - a kappa’s favorite food - offered at the temple.

Not that I can verify that with my eyewitness account, though.  The gates to the temple were closed by the time I made it there.  I’d originally thought I’d go after my concert, on the actual seventh day, but Sensei said it always rains on Tanabata, and apparently that’s part of the story, too.  To allow the (literally) star-crossed lovers to meet each other, a flock of magpies creates a bridge across the Milky Way...unless it rains, in which case they’re just screwed and they have to wait another year to hook up.  I took Sensei’s word for it on account of the rain, and made my way into Tokyo after rehearsal, although I got there a little later than I would have liked.

After writing down my wish, I started making my way down the street.  Kappabashi runs basically all the way from Asakusa to Ueno, and along the way I stopped for treats - kakigori and yakitori, which had a pretty long line, which I was enticed into joining by force of the smell, which was divine.  As I was waiting, they roped off the street and an awa odori dance troupe came dancing past right in front of me.  As far as last festivals go, it didn't suck.

Holes in the Story

Stop me if I’ve told you this before: one thing that makes Japan unique is its manhole* covers.  Almost anywhere else in the world you go, these discs of iron are relatively plain, utilitarian items.  Japan, on the other hand, has a sense of aesthetics to maintain.  Throughout its artistic history Japan has never been satisfied with simply making functional objects, when they can make them beautiful as well.

Nowhere is this as evident as right by your feet as you walk down the sidewalk.  On my walk to church each Sunday I pass a variety of sizes of sakura manhole covers.  It has probably occurred to me - about the time I was working on mixed media - that it would be really cool to take rubbings of the different sizes and use them to create a huge, mixed media piece.  I haven’t been as enthusiastic about this idea since I discovered that plum blossoms were WAY better flowers, but I haven’t entirely given up the idea of making some collagraphys, either.

Now some of these covers are plain metal, but not all of them.  Some are inlaid with enamel, making them even more eye-catching.  And one of the best things about Japan’s manhole covers is that each city has its own designs.  Those sakura covers are only found in Tokyo, as far as I know.  Yokohama has the bay bridge on theirs.  Himeji’s has their famous castle.

This element of collectibility, where you have to catch them all as you travel, has led to a class of beings called...I kid you not...manholers.  I first learned about this pastime through This Is Colossal, although there have been several news stories about them over the last several years.  And since Japan loves its festivals, it should come as no surprise that someone eventually thought to capitalize on it and create a manhole celebration...and in fact, that is exactly what Tokyu Hands in Shinjuku did about a month ago.  They brought examples of different manholes from all over Japan as well as all sorts of merchandise for the hardcore manholer to enjoy.

After my relatively recent encounter with Golden Kamuy macarons I had to try these beautiful treats (sadly, they were not even on the same level).  Even more, though, I enjoyed their hands-on activity - the opportunity to finally, FINALLY, print with one of these bad boys.  I’ve been dreaming of printing something with a Japanese manhole cover ever since I read about some Germans who were printing with far less fancy covers (but who, sadly, never responded to my teacherly query about what kind of ink they use).  Now I have a nice canvas tote bag with that Tokyo sakura cover printed in green.  What I need another tote bag for beats me, but it was totally worth it, especially since it put me up to the 2,000 yen needed to draw for a prize.  I got exactly the prize I wanted, too - a button that proudly proclaims that I’m a manholer.  Because who wouldn’t want something as perfect as that???

*if the word ”manhole” makes you snicker every time you hear it, that might explain why we’re friends.

Barbie Girls

You can tell when winter is almost over.  The plum trees start to blossom, and suddenly there are hina dolls displayed everywhere.  I saw these in the middle of the train station in Shiroishi last month, and saw a similar display in Yokohama Station a week or two ago.  That doesn't mean that winter is quite over, though.  It's been raining throughout the last week, which pissed me right off and was one of the reasons I decided against going to the Nagashibina.  I loved the ritual last year but standing in the cold rain did NOT seem like a fun way to start my Sunday.

This time last year I was filled with unspeakable rage because my fellow Americans were being a bunch of lunatics.  This Hina Matsuri - a festival dedicated to the prosperity and protection of girls - I'm raging again, but you'll have to wait a few months to hear that particular rant.  Suffice it to say that the timing of a holiday concerned with those blessings of prosperity seemed somewhat ironic this year.  (As far as protection goes, nothing makes me feel as safe as toting around the bachi I use for taiko class - and hey - bonus! I can practice while I walk!)

As far as I'm concerned, there was never any question as to whether or not I was going to mark Girls' Day this year with a blog.  (Seriously, people, I make dolls for my hobby.  This was always going to happen).  That said, I did try to find new things to see.  I knew there were several displays around Tokyo, and although I passed over my first choice because I didn't have time after painting on Saturday,* my second choice, though, was just a couple of stops away in Shinjuku.  Keio Plaza Hotel had a special display of tsurushi hina, hanging decorations, along with some works of art that made me think of the paintings Maria's students always paint around this time of year.  Except, you know, better (technically, at least.  I'd argue that a lot more heart goes into the student work).

Just as hina dolls evolved from the doll floating rituals, hanging decorations are an Edo-era tradition that emerged from the desire of less affluent families hoping to participate in the holiday.  Turns out the full hina display is pretty damn pricey, and not everyone could afford them.  Instead, the women of the family would come together to craft small decorations that hung from red cords.

The ones at Keio Plaza were made of kimono silk by quilting artist Mitsuyo Matsuo and her artist group, Himawari.  I've bought a LOT of fabric scraps in the last month or so, and it made me think about how cool it would be to make my own tsurushi hina...but since I already have a backlog of sewing projects I want to make, this probably won't happen anytime soon.  Making my own display, on the other hand, seemed relatively straightforward and not too time consuming.  I've been thinking about using my nendoroids to set up a hina matsuri display ever since I read about the Hatsune Miku hina doll made by Mataro last January.**

I learned a lot about the meanings behind the dolls when I visited the Ando Doll workshop in Kyoto last fall.  I tried to keep it in mind when I made my own Hina Matsuri display, but I didn't have dolls that fit.  The top step is supposed to be the emperor and empress.  Since I didn't have any nendoroids that are couples, I just chose my favorites.  The next step is supposed to be the three court ladies, but I only have two female nendos.  Instead, I made this the warrior step and included my sword boys and Roy Mustang.  The third step is supposed to be the musicians, so I went with a general ntheme of entertainment and called it good.  You might notice that I'm lacking most of the furnishings that go along with the set, but with a move looming there was no way I was buying more crap to pack up.

The VERY sweet icing on this year's doll cake was going to the Strawberry-holic buffet at The Strings Omotesando with Sensei and the Director.  About a month ago I decided I needed to eat as many strawberry desserts as I could before the season is over, and having them all at the same time seemed like a good idea.***

Apparently these buffets have themes.  I mean, besides “strawberries.”  There were at least a couple of other strawberry buffets going on recently, one with the theme of cats and another that featured - wait for it! - Godzilla.  This one was, appropriately enough, doll-themed, with so many Barbies scattered around the buffet and tables that they must have visited every Mandarake on Honshu to round up enough to pull it off.  As far as the food goes, there was a token lunch side, with salads, curry, and the best damn mac and cheese I’ve had since I last made it in Mongolia, but I don’t think anyone wasted too much time on real food.  We were all there for the desserts, and they were excellent.  That said, at 4500 yen we were all keen to get our money’s worth, and it’s possible that all three of us ate more than we should.  I definitely wanted to just lie down and have someone roll me home with a stick; as it was, I went into hibernation mode as soon as I got to my apartment.

I was about to say that was how my Hina Matsuri ended, except that’s not quite true.  I’ve been taking a photography course for my master’s this term, and our current project is light painting.  I originally wanted to work with shrine imagery - I still do, and I’m pretty sure this is going to play into my final portfolio - but then I thought about the nagashi hina and decided - since it was just after Girls’ Day - to make my own as a subject for my photo.  This course has been much harder than I was expecting, but at the same time, I’m pretty happy with some of the photos I got.  I’m still hoping to improve on them by taking photos in the stream near my house, but for now I feel like I have a good start.  

*I'm still hoping to write about the place it was later.  I mean, I probably have to write a Shinsengumi post at some point, right???
**I think I'd have a lot of fun designing other pop culture dolls with them, but the clock is ticking.
***Time has proven otherwise.

High-Sticking

I know that I used up a lot of words in the last few posts bitching about how unmotivated I was last week.  It took me til yesterday to figure out that the real problem was not, in fact, that vacation was over and I preferred lying in bed watching anime and reading to studying and going to work (although that is, of course, true).  It is one of the great ironies of my life that I like cool weather and dark days but the lack of light wreaks havoc on the feel-good chemicals in my brain.  Some years I'm better at coping than others.  This is starting off like an "other."

That said, serotonin's got nothing on a beat for making this girl happy.  Yesterday was a national holiday, Culture Day, and while it didn't get me a day off school because it fell on a Saturday, at least there were lots of cool things happening because of it.  Not that I cared about most of those things.  My priority was Asakusa's taiko festival, and I am serious when I say priority.  I rescheduled my nihonga lesson and everything in order to accommodate getting there from the other side of Tokyo.

I've written enough about taiko that it really shouldn't need an introduction, but in case you're new here, taiko is the most exciting music in Japan (and yes, that includes the first opening songs for Naruto Shippudden, Durarara!!!, and Noragami).  The taiko festival involves three-and-a-half hours of non-stop drums, with some shinobue (flute) and shamisen (that thing Kubo was playing in the movie) thrown in for good measure.  But really, the drums are what it's all about.

Each beat reverberates in your chest, shocking your heart harder than a defibrillator.  Merely watching taiko is hard, I think - the biofeedback pulls you into the music, makes you need to move, dance, do something.  Or maybe that's just me.

Besides the music itself being exciting there are several reasons why taiko is saikou.  There's something really playful about the performance of it.  It's not just people standing around making music - there's a lot of movement.  The musicians were jumping and dancing around, twirling their sticks and throwing them in the air.

I've taken lessons before, and am hoping to start doing so regularly this week.  I speak as the voice of experience when I tell you that it is hard, sweaty work.  There is a certain form you're supposed to have - not just the way that you hold the drum sticks, but the huge, exaggerated arm movements.  To be able to keep up the energy that it takes to play those drums is difficult, but just about every musician I looked at had a smile on their face.  They were having fun, and that was infectious.

I loved the fact that taiko really is for everyone.  There were kids banging those drums.  There were also old folks.  There were just as many women playing as men, and there were more than a couple musicians carrying extra weight, but they still rocked just as hard as anyone else.  It's hard not to love an art form that welcomes everyone.

Also, it occasionally involves boys with their shirts off, and I am definitely a fan of that.  Speaking of which, if any of the drummers who were there that day noticed me staring a little too intently, or thought that smile on my face was kind of creepy, rest assured, I'm no yandere.  It's just that you guys are my heroes.  Okay, maybe I'd be willing to date some of you, but I'd never resort to stalking (if only because I reserve that for the boys of Drum Tao).  All joking creepiness aside, it was one of the best things I've done this school year, and gave me the strength to get my homework done (mostly) and face another week of anklebiters.

Unfinished Business

When I first decided that I would go to Kyoto yet again for this fall break, I may have questioned if there would be enough to keep me blogging.  For the record, I didn't really care if there wasn't - a week of relaxing and catching up with the Kawaii Kingpin was more than enough justification to scrap my half-baked plans of going up to Tohoku - but I was at least acknowledging the possibility.  After all, this was going to be my fourth trip to Kyoto.

However, as I sifted through websites last week - it takes real effort to avoid work as thoroughly as I do, but I'm proud to be able to say that I rose to the challenge - my doubts proved to be unfounded.  After all, there was still unfinished business from my last two trips.  First and foremost...in fact, coming in at #1 in my top ten list of justifications to come back to Kyoto...was the Kurama Fire Festival.  After a full day of shopping in Osaka two years back I was in no state to be jammed into a train with a bunch of tourists, but I felt like this year I could suck it up.  Alas, it turned out that I'm missing it again.  When typhoon Jebi blew through last month it knocked down a lot of trees so they called it off this year.  I'm writing this off as a good excuse for the next trip, when hopefully I'll be able to afford the doll dressing workshop at Ando Doll Shop.

Yeah, that's a thing, and being that weirdo you know who is interested in dolls (or, more precisely, in learning how to improve my dolls), I really wanted to do it.  Sadly it just will not fit into the budget.  On the bright side, I'm getting to see all sorts of traditional dress firsthand.

Fortunately there were other festivals I ditched two years back.  I had to - there were so damn many that choices had to be made.  The Kasagake Shinji, for example.  This is a ritual featuring horseback archery at one of the most out-of-the-way shrines you could imagine, Kamigamo Jinja.  I'm exaggerating a little here, but when I told the Kawaii Kingpin where I was yesterday his response was, "Holy moly that's far."  On the bright side, this meant that it wasn't nearly as crowded as it could have been (as you'll read by the end of this post).

Now just for the record, you should be aware that horseback archery takes a while to get exciting when it's conceptually coupled with a ritual.  There was some processional stuff, leading up to the shrine proper, where there were purification rituals, and then there was MOAR processional stuff, coming out to the field that stretches between the first and second torii of the shrine.  Meanwhile, I was sitting in the sun roasting.  I mention this so that you know I'm not exactly anti-ritual.  Without the ritual part, I'm not sure if there would be a need for the archery part...but when you're melting because it is NOT this hot up in Yomaha, all you really want is to cut to the chase and see the damn archers hit some damn targets.

Which, eventually, they did.  Last fall I got to see Yabusame, a different kind of horseback archery, at a festival at Tsurugaoka Hachiman-gu in Kamakura.  The differences, as far as I could tell, were that for 500 yen I got a front row seat.  Seriously, they are different things - I think this had something to do with hitting a target on the ground, but my position a year ago didn't exactly lend itself to the finer details of the art.  This year, on the other hand, I was in a perfect position to be amused by the fact that one horse seemed to have some bowel issues (hey, when you gotta go, ya gotta go) or another was temperamental - the English-speaking announcer mentioned that he was from Hokkaido, and since I have yet to go to Hokkaido and my body of knowledge is based on the anime Golden Kamuy and A Wild Sheep Chase, by Haruki Murakami, we'll leave it at that.

I also ditched the Jidai Matsuri two years back.  I was shopping.  There were too many people.  These things happen.  Since I've been torturing...I mean, challenging...myself with more and more intricate designs in my dolls (and maybe I'm ready to try some bijinga portraits with my nihonga paintings...don't ever let anyone tell you I'm not a masochist) I thought it might behoove me to do some studying.  The name roughly translates to Festival of Ages and celebrates Kyoto's 1000 years of history as the capital of Japan.

Now, I could have bought seats for this one, too, but after the previous day's torture by sunlight your resident vampire blogger found a shady spot sitting under a pine tree across from Heian Jingu. (Also, the seats today cost more than yesterday).  I was pretty sure I had it figured out, and when FINALLY the first part of the parade made it to the shrine, I just got up and stood behind the seats.  Hell, I even let two little obaasans stand in front of me...it was an awesome day and I was feeling generous.  Also, they were both so much shorter than me that it actually didn't matter, so why not?

It was about 2:15 when the lead part of the parade got to us, and I had heard that the whole thing took about two hours.  There were gaps between parts, which was nice because it gave me the opportunity to go back and erase some of the photos, but after standing on my feet I decided there was a better way...to travel back through time, so to speak.  So when the next gap came to us, I rolled out in the opposite direction.

It's possible I missed some good shots that way, but I can't really regret it.  Watching the procession this way kept it interesting and got me to the museum I was hoping to make it to before any of the other tourists could get there.  It also allowed me to lurk in the shade, so hey, no spontaneous combustion for me today!

Sadly I don't know Japanese history nearly as well as I should to appreciate the Jidai Matsuri fully.  Names and dates and dead people just don't really hold my interest.  But as I watched the people of today walk down the street in shoes of yesterday, which seem like more trouble than they're worth (seriously, those straw sandals looked like hell, and the course of the procession wasn't exactly short), it wasn't hard to get a feeling for the scale of this city's history.

Finally two mikoshi came around the corner of Jingu Michi and Sanjo.  Apparently the first and last emperors to reign from Kyoto are enshrined in Heian Jingu and this is their yearly opportunity to get out and see how much everything has changed.  As they moved on toward the shrine I began to walk down the street.  If I could rewind the last two years I still wouldn't have missed out on my personal shopping tour, but I'm glad that I got the chance to see it this year.  And with that, I'm going to bed.  I have an early roll out tomorrow if I'm going to do what I think I'm going to do.

Local Gods

I went to a lot of festivals last year.  And I mean, a LOT.  I literally couldn't help myself - experiencing everything about Japan had become my raison d'etre, after all, and it paid off in my artwork.  I told myself that this year I'd try to be a little more diverse, maybe make it to some of the international festivals that are always happening in Ueno, or down by the Redbrick Warehouse, but to be honest, if I'd had the chance to go to either Yokohama's Yogafest or the sumo tournament at Setagaya Hachiman-Gu Festival two weeks back...well, you can probably guess where I would have been.  If I'd had the choice.  Which I didn't because I spent that weekend in a bloody IB training.*   

However, festivals and Japan are kind of inseparable, and just because I didn't have get the time to go to the ones I would have have hoofed across Tokyo for doesn't mean I've totally missed out.  Here's the deal.  It's any old Sunday, and you are marching your way to church, because somewhere down the road somebody's playing something traditional with a good beat, and when you see the mikoshi, or in this case, the taiko, parked at the side of the road everything makes sense. 

I didn't stop to check it out just then; I was on a schedule and church represents a three-hour block when I can work on my current sewing project without trying to figure out what anime I will "watch" next.**  However, when I left just after five, the Hachiman shrine at Senzoku-ike had their matsuri in full swing, so I stopped by to appreciate the atmosphere.  After all, I'd put in my time with my own God...I didn't see any problem with paying my respects to the god of warriors and Japan's protector.

I followed the music to the kagura-den - the "stage" you often find in Shinto shrines.  What I was really interested in was the drums; I took a taiko lesson a month ago and have been deliberating over going back ever since (on one hand, it's so damn fun...on the other, my finances have trouble keeping up with my hobbies, and I can't bring myself to even think about giving up nihonga).  The noh performance was just icing on the cake.  Now, I've been known to joke around about falling asleep during noh, but when you're just stopping to watch a few minutes rather than committing to hours of it, I have to say, it's kind of magical.

During the following week one of my students told me they were going to the matsuri at our nearby train station, and asked if I was going to go.  I'd seen the lanterns hanging around Kikuna, and said I was planning to - since my training robbed me of the chance to go to the festival in Setagaya, it went a little ways toward filling the sumo-shaped hole in my heart.

Kikuna Jinja's matsuri was small by the standards of most of the festivals I've attended, and I was kind of alright with that.  I didn't need the mikoshi make its way down the street, or watch performances on the kagura-den - it was enough to pass them sitting idle.  The lane between the station and the shrine was packed with the usual games, foods, and drinks...and just about everyone in Tsurumi ward (or so it seemed - I didn't see my student, but I think she went on Sunday night instead). 

One thing that was completely different - I didn't see it at any of the festivals I went to last year - was the "drink in an IV bag."  Dean Winchester had given Benny a ride back from Purgatory that week and the first kid I saw sucking down a bag of red fluid hanging around their neck messed with my mind more than I want to admit.  Not that that stopped me from buying the next season of Supernatural as soon as my IB training was over, but it was definitely a surreal moment that had me wondering if I'd lost the ability to tell the difference between reality and television...

One thing I still hadn't tried at a festival was the goldfish game, and I decided when I came across it that this was both the time and the place!  For 300 yen, you got a paper net and the guarantee that you'd walk away with two goldfish (no matter how many you actually caught), which seemed like an excellent value for the money.  I waited for just about a hundred (rough estimate - I may have rounded up) small children to take their turn, and then finally, I paid my money and got my net.  I watched the fish, looking for the perfect catch, and decided to go for a white one.  The first time I put the net in the water I was sure it was going to break, but it didn't, and although I didn't manage to catch that one, I got the next one.  Then I decided to go for a black one - much cooler than a bunch of orange ones - and I caught one of them and another white one before my net broke.  The man running the game put one of the white ones back, then poured my fish into a drawstring plastic bag and handed them to me.  I decided to call them Kurosaki and Toshiro, which are character names from Bleach and since they have the words for black and white in them it seemed apropos.  I was stoked to have new pets - the goldfish game was saikou!

Why hadn't I tried this before?!?  Well, after I got home I remembered why I hadn't - because I wasn't prepared to be a pet owner.  I had nowhere to put them - for the first three days in my care Kurosaki and Toshiro lived in a plastic bowl I'd bought watermelon in.  I tried to find them fish food, but every "pet" store I went to only had supplies for furry friends; it seemed I was going to have to go to a fish store.  In the meantime I fed them bread crumbs - the fish in the park always seemed happy with that -  and finally after school on Tuesday I went to Shimachu and bought a bowl, a plant, and food.  Sadly, by then I guess it was too late.  Neither of them were interested in the food, and the next morning Toshiro was belly up.  The following evening Kurosaki joined him in that big fishbowl in the sky.  Ah well, easy come, easy go.

Kikuna matsuri had one more thing going for it - dalkgalbi.  There are Korean restaurants around, and maybe some of them actually sell my #1 Korean food; I wouldn't know, I've never actually been to a Korean restaurant in Japan.  However, the sight of that stall stopped me in my tracks.  If I hadn't been working my way through a ginormous shaved ice I would have joined the line right then - as it was, I forced myself to walk the length of the lane and grabbed it on my way back to the bus stop.  It could have used more gochujjang - honestly, it's a cold day in hell when I DON'T think you could you use more red chili paste - but considering I've only managed to have dalkgalbi about once a year, I wasn't complaining.  And it just served to illustrate that festivals with sumo are all well and good, but sometimes you just can't beat your local neighborhood matsuri.

*Not that I'm bitter or anything...
**I'm on a sewing kick again.  The answer is, "Something I've already seen."  Or Supernatural, but buying each season was getting expensive.  Stupid Japanese Netflix.

One Crazy Week in August

So.  Another school year has come around.  I've been back in Japan for a month now, and have been having plenty of adventures but this is the first thing I've actually sat down to write.  I can't offer an explanation or excuse - hell, blogging was half of the reason I brought this shiny new laptop that's sitting on my kitchen table - it just is what it is.  Now that I've started, I'll be better.  Probably.

Those adventures started with a printmaking workshop.  Ever since I discovered Motoharu Asaka's lessons (facilitated with translations by Louise Rouse) through Tokyo Weekender, I've been wanting to study with him (c'mon, he's a master of ukiyo-e and that shit is right up my alley).  Time and money were an issue though, since I was already studying Nihonga painting with Maria every Saturday, and then the icing on the cake was the fact that Louise is gone this fall, teaching in the States.  I thought I might have to miss out on studying mokuhanga until I saw they were doing a four-day workshop before she left in August on the Art Byte Critique facebook page.  It happened to coincide with part of our school orientation, but since I happen to be the art teacher and was planning to teach printmaking this year, I not only managed to justify missing the orientation, I also was successful in getting it funded.  Even if I hadn't, it would have been well worth it.  I learned so much, and it was cool to meet more of the artists around Tokyo.  I'd like to write a whole post about it, because the experience deserves it, but since the purpose of this post is more of a general year 2 kickoff, I'll leave it at that.

The third day of the workshop coincided with an event I've been hoping to see for a while, Asakusa Toro Nagashi.  Wishes are written on the lanterns and they float down the river as part of Obon celebrations, guiding the spirits of the departed back to the other side.  I met up with the Director, and after scoping out the Asakusa side of the Sumida river, we went over to the opposite bank, which was less crowded but contrary to the reports I'd read, was also set up to release lanterns.  We sat above the river for a while talking as things got started, but eventually moved down to the river's edge, insinuating ourselves into the crowd to get better photos (because some dumbass forgot her telephoto lens).  I enjoyed it, but I have to say, it was not as magical as setting off sky lanterns in Mongolia.  The river is never absolutely packed with lanterns in the same way.

I still find myself missing Mongolia, and not just because of this heat.  Maybe I always will.

One drawback of the mokuhanga workshop was the bright and early commute into Tokyo four days straight.  I do it both days nearly every weekend, but it was pretty exhausting to start early and come home late four days in a row.  I regret nothing, but the final day I was dragging ass as I got on the bus at Kikuna station for the final part of my commute.  I wanted nothing in the world so much as to get home and take my shower so I could get some sleep before the next day of school.  Just before my stop though, I heard the beat of taiko and caught the flash of lanterns out of the corner of my eye, and realized my neighborhood's bon odori was taking place.

Now, this may seem a little out of order.  Toro nagashi is supposed to light the way back for souls, but the bon dance is meant to call them down in the first place.  My only explanation is that even though Obon takes place in August, there are celebrations throughout the month.  Last year I went to the bon odori in Hibiya park during my crazy dance weekend, and that was the last weekend in August.  Needless to say, when I realized what was going on I found that I was not quite as tired as I thought, and walked half a block back to check out the festivities (read: see if they were still selling shaved ice) rather than going straight home. 

So that's how year two began.  I've been watching for things to do and my dedication to you, my six faithful readers, remains strong, but it's a little different these days.  Between work, my current course toward my master's, arting, and binge-watching four seasons of Supernatural* while challenging myself with new, hideously difficult plushie designs (because I tripped that obsession again while I was home), there's only so much time in the week.  Also, I did a LOT of things last fall, and - for example - killing yourself making it to three different dance events in one day isn't as appealing when you've already tried that particular mode of masochism.  For now, just rest assured there will be plenty of hilarious stories about my crazy shenanigans to come.

*I just started #8.  How did they get through thirteen seasons without getting me hooked?  I connect with it on so many levels (not least of which is Dean saying, "It's called anime, and it's art.")!  I'm going to blame Time Lady who turned me off by being just a little too obsessed with it, but honestly, it probably goes back to my own anime addiction.