festival – Concord Nanae Network

Members of the Nanae Mikoshi procession — Photo by Emi Kimura

August 8^th, 2011

Nanae’s new Assistant Language Teacher (ALT) and Concord native Ben Haydock arrived sweaty and exhausted at Hakodate airport on July 28^th. He had a full week of festivities for the Hakodate Port Festival to look forward to, but his true initiation as a member of the Nanae community would not come until the following week.

Five hundred pounds, dripping with golden chains and clamoring bells, Nanae’s O-Mikoshi (mobile shrine) emerges from the stores of Nanae’s Mishima Shrine only once a year, on the shoulders of two-dozen men. At 7:30am on August 8^th, Ben and I suited up in traditional happi robes and joined twenty other local volunteers to carry this cherished relic up and down the streets of Nanae for the town’s annual Summer Festival.

“After dancing the Ika Odori (squid dance) in the Hakodate Port Festival, I didn’t entirely know what to expect from Nanae the following week “ Ben said.

“I knew we would be carrying something heavy, but it wasn’t until we started down the street, with the O-Mikoshi in tow, that I realized my role in this festival was more as a laborer than as a carefree festival goer.”

O-Mikoshi all over Japan travel annually among the neighborhoods that worship at the Shinto shrines where they are kept year round. They serve as vehicles for particular Japanese Shinto deities, traditionally believed to reside in the principle shrines themselves. As they are bourn along the avenues of their respective districts, the O-Mikoshi spread good fortune to deferential residents who emerge from their homes and shops to pray and offer donations that support the festival for the following year.

A local priest presides over the Nanae O-Mikoshi — Photo by Emi Kimura

That day our task was to cover all of Honcho, a district in Nanae that proved far larger than either Ben or I had imagined. At eight o’clock sharp, we shuffled into place around the O-Mikoshi’s wooden supports and prepared to march as five pairs of Yakko, or fan-bearers, took their places at the front of the procession. They carried long staves capped with masses of decorative feathers. Two by two they stepped forward and, swooping down to a crouch, swung these ornaments low over the ground with choreographed precision. They were clearing a path for our shrine to travel.

Yukka flag-bearers in the Nanae Summer Festival — Photo by Yuki Tanaka

The last of the Yakko moved off, repeating their ritual every few meters. The veteran marchers began shaking the O-Mikoshi enthusiastically to set the mood for the festive procession. This continued for several minutes until a shout came from the front of the group. As one we hoisted the O-Mikoshi over our heads and marched forward from beneath the shade of Mishima’s iconic curving rooftop. Continue reading “Nanae’s Summer Festival: Carrying the O-Mikoshi”

By Ben Mirin, CIR

July 7th, 2011

IMG_1288 copy — Parents race to catch up with their kids as they cross Route 5 at rush hour.

The drive home from the Yakuba usually takes about two minutes, but this evening was different. At nearly every intersection, Nanae’s rush hour traffic came to a halt as crowds of children in brightly-colored yukata flooded the crosswalks. They rushed to keep time with the changing of the lights, swinging bulky cloth knapsacks and scattering their contents of sweets and little trinkets that clattered like a festive hail on the pavement.

It was a rare spectacle to see Japanese people trying to cheat the flickering crosswalk signs, but I had to pull over into a 7-11 parking lot to learn what could entice them exhibit such outlandish behavior. I got out just as a group of girls emerged from the store peering intently into their bags and nearly tripping over one another to compare their latest payload. They mingled and danced impatiently on the corner until the lights changed, then merged with an oncoming group of mothers and toddlers and raced over to the yakiniku shop across the street. I followed them up to the door, but there was no way to see inside beyond the crowd that had amassed outside, so I waited.

Through the doorway sounds of chanting could be heard, punctuated frequently by the affirming laughter of several deeper, gruff voices inside. Within moments, the children emerged in a rush to meet up with their parents, who had caught up and were waiting just outside. As they moved off and crossed the street again I pushed through the tousled curtains hanging above the doorway and entered the shop. Continue reading “Tanabata Matsuri”