Japanese Weekend, Part I

If there ever was a perfect Japanese weekend, this past few days was it for us. After lazing around Luke’s apartment on Saturday morning, we packed up and headed out for our ryokan (a ryokan is a traditional Japanese inn – tatami rooms, futons, yukata, onsens . . . stuff like that) stay on Sakurajima, the smoking volcanic island that rises dramatically out of Kagoshima Bay.

After settling in Luke’s car, getting dialed in with the Eagles football podcast, and stopping for water and snacks at Lawson, we were off. Yasue recommended that we stop at a festival taking place in a small town along the way. She thought it would be a good opportunity for me to have a rural matsuri experience.

So, we headed for Iwagawa, home to an absolutely humongous samurai sculpture – the backdrop of the town, really, and the icon around which the festival is celebrated. The sculpture is modeled after Sekune Takenouchi, who was the chief of the Old Imperial Guard, the leader of the Hyato tribe, which lived in the area from the fourth to the seventh century, A.D.

Every year all the townspeople gather to parade around a giant doll named Yagoro Don that symbolizes this great warrior. This doll wears a kimono and long and short swords and is wheeled through town on a rolling platform every November 3. So, we were really quite lucky to happen upon this matsuri.

And, our timing was perfect. We arrived in Iwagawa just in time to do all things matsuri before the parade rolled through and we headed off to Sakurajima. Our first stop in town was the great statue. It really is enormous. I imagine you can see it from miles away, as it’s perched on a hillside and stands who knows how high. There are several great photos that do much better justice to him than would my elementary descriptions of his robes and swords.

After hanging out at the statue, taking pictures from almost every angle – how very Japanese – and capturing some fairly epic Engrish on film, we headed down the hill to check out the matsuri.

I think this is maybe the third matsuri I have been to in Japan. They all have food and performances and a parade. But, this particular event stands out, one because I ate a really good donut while there, but also because of the variety and quality of the festival fare, not to mention the unusual, but impressive spectacles, and the enthusiasm of the crowd. This was a top-notch matsuri, to say the least.

I mentioned the donut, which was hot and sugary and amazing – definitely rivals any Krispy Kreme I have ever tasted. And of course, there was plenty of octopus on a stick, fried chicken, deep-fried bits of squid and fish, fries, corn on the cob . . . what else? I guess, pretty much your typical Japanese matsuri cuisine. That is, until we happened upon a giant, sizzling hunk of pork that Luke couldn’t walk away from. He debated his purchase for a few minutes, and undeterred by my comment that it could feed a large family, decided he had to experience this greasy delicacy. What can I tell you? He’s from Philly. And, while it appeared to me that most people were wrapping theirs up and taking them home, probably for dinner, Luke dove straight into this fatty brick. I declined his offer for a taste, and after a few satisfying, yet detestable bites later, Luke realized he could not conquer this block of bacon.

But, who am I to judge? I consumed two giant sno-cones, the size of my head, before we left the tiny town of Iwagawa. And, I get ahead of myself! Between slurps of cherry sno-cone and chews of fatty pork, we visited the shrine, also a central part of the festival, and watched some interesting displays of physical prowess.

Midway through my second sno-cone, we ventured into a dusty arena where several groups were performing various arts. Toward the middle of the grounds on both sides, kids and teenagers were standing in lines for inspection of some kind. I don’t really know what was going on there, because I was distracted one, by the judo contest, and two, by what appeared to be the youth sumo league. That’s right, a bunch of little fat kids sumo wrestling.

I’m not gonna lie, it was kind of shocking to see a bunch of little kids – boys only, of course – strutting around in those diaper-thongs (I realize this is very ignorant, but I don’t know what they’re really called, and while I know I could Google it, I think diaper-thong conveys better this visual). I personally felt like kind of a voyeur watching all of this – it seemed like such an outrageous, and really kind of illicit display, like cockfighting or something. It was weird. But we watched anyway, running frantically from the judo competition as soon as we saw the kids start to fight.

The kids seemed so unevenly matched – some of them were absolutely obese, while others were skinny little rails. And, of course, the fat kids always won.

Seeing that it was nearly time to get back on the road and head for the ryokan, we left the arena, just in time to see the parade go through. It was small, but lively and the performers were incredibly enthusiastic as they pounded on their drums and danced around the big doll. I think festivalgoers and participants alike were impressed to see a couple of gaijin taking part in a festival in their tiny town. And, if I ever find myself back on Kyushu on November 3, I will certainly go back to Iwagawa, if for nothing else than donuts and sumo.

Though this lengthy entry does not conclude the perfect Japanese weekend, part two will have to wait until I’ve studied more material for the GMAT exam.