As mentioned before, this week marked Obon, the Festival of the Dead in Japan. It is an ancient Buddhist ritual to worship the family ancestors who are said to return from the afterlife to visit their decendants. Traditionally, Obon was celebrated around the 15th day of the seventh month in the lunar calender (and is still in the southern parts of Japan like Okinawa for example) but with the switch from the lunar to the Gregorian calender, things became more complicated. Today, Obon is celebrated around 15th of August almost everywhere in Japan, but in the Kanto region around Tokyo and in Tohoku it happens one month before that. The three days of Obon are not national holidays, but many people are given leave anyway, especially small family run businesses are closed.
The rituals performed during Obon vary greatly depending on the local customs, but as I mentioned yesterday, many of them involve fire and light. I am sure there are special rituals performed at home as well, at each family’s ancestral shrine, but unfortunately I am not privy to any details here.
One thing that is done everywhere though are Bon Odori or Obon dance performances to entertain the dead – and the living as well. I went to the one at Enma-do temple in Kyoto last Wednesday night. There were about 20 performers, all dressed in same yukata and turquoise socks, and I was surprised to see both children and women among them (as women often have no place in religious ceremonies). In the beginning were musical pieces with flutes and small (taiko) drums.
Then followed the dances, accompanied by music and sometimes a sung story. I am not entirely sure, but the two guys below dressed as women (do you notice their hair-ornaments?) performed a rather comical piece; and the two girls were meant to conjure images of the Maiko of Gion with their long sleeved kimono.
The highlight however, was the lion’s dance: It told (all without words) the story of a lion, living peacefully in the forest – performing acrobatic feats so as to not get bored – until a “great” warrior came along and killed the poor beast. As you can see, I was rooting for the lion all the way!
As I have mentioned on Monday, from August 14th through 16th the Festival of the Dead, or Obon, is celebrated in the Kansai region of Japan. The idea is that the ancestors of each family come back from the realm of the Dead to visit their offspring, are worshipped and treated to some goodies, and then are sent off again.
How this is celebrated depends on the region, but very often it has something to do with fire and light to guard the spirits. For example, I have seen in a comparatively small town in Nagano province, where many people own a house with garden, that during Obon small fires are lit at the entrance of each house so the spirits can find their way home easily. Here in Kyoto, at the Higashi Otani Cemetery for example, lamps with real candles are lit at the huge graveyard, and people can come and worship their ancestors during the early evening, bringing flowers and little offerings – I have even seen a cup of sake here and there.
The important part of Obon however, is to make sure that the ghosts don’t linger for too long. They are sent off – once more with fire and lights – on August 16th. Again, the ceremony depends on the region. Where there is a prominent river or lake or maybe even the sea, little paper lanterns are inscribed with the name of the dead person and then set afloat on the water, so the spirit goes, accompanied by the light of the candle, home to the ocean.
One of the most spectacular ways of sending off the spirits is happening in Kyoto (where else). It is called the Gosan-no-Okuribi (literally the Five Mountains Send Off Fire) or more simply the Daimonji. Kyoto has mountains on three of its sides, and on the flanks of the northern ones (counterclockwise from east to west) five huge bonfires are lit at 8 pm on August 16th. Each bonfire has a specific shape: The first one (the daimonji) is the kanji for “big”, the second one (myo and ho) the kanji for the Buddhist concept of “dharma”. The third one (funagata) has the shape of a boat the souls can ride in, the fourth one is another “big” kanji (called the left one to distinguish it from the first), and the last one is in the shape of a shrine gate or “torii”. The fires are lit at intervals of 5 to 10 minutes and only last for about 20 minutes, to keep it sweet and short.
The worshipping of the ancestors at the cemetery, including light and fire rituals of one sort or the other, is done all over Japan, and of course it is necessary to travel home for that. Hence, although Obon is not a national holiday, many small and family run businesses close and allow their employees a few days to go home. This makes travelling during Obon very stressful, as there are so many people abroad, but interestingly, it is relatively easy to find a hotel (unless you insist on something small and family-owned) – clearly everybody stays with family.
I will write a bit more about Obon in my post tomorrow.
Besides the large parades and processions that involve all the inner city and the Gion area in Kyoto, there are many small events taking place in July that are somehow connected to Gion matsuri. For example, last week there was a biwa recital at one of the stages of Yasaka shrine.
A biwa is a traditional Japanese instrument, a type of lute, originating in the 7th century. It is associated with Benten, the Shinto goddess of music, poetry, and education, and has seen a revival in recent years.The biwa is a lute with four strings which are struck with a large triangular plectrum, and it is held so that the neck is pointing upwards, with the body resting on the lap of the player, who has to sit in seiza, a kneeling position. So I went to the recital last week and found it very interesting. I had not expected it to be such a drawn out affair though; there were 11 players, each of them playing a song of about 15 – 20 minutes. Interestingly, the order of the artists was according to increasing proficiency (or years of training), with the two masters at the very end. Just as with the Noh, I did not have that amount of time or patience, so I left long before their performance, but next time I’ll know what to expect.
Also, I did not know that the players had to sing as well – I expected a purely instrumental afternoon and was quite surprised when the first song started. Once again, it was highly formalized, but I cannot say for sure whether the songs were traditional or modern Japanese – I did not understand much of them in any case. I found the recital very interesting, but it is not one of those things for every day, just like the Noh. Nevertheless I will try to catch another performance at some point in the future – knowing that I’ll have to arrive towards the end to hear the really good players.
Last Wednesday the last main event of Gion matsuri took place – the Kanko Sai festival, where the three mikoshi were taken from their temporary display on the Otabisho, carried on different routes through the inner city, and then returned to Yasaka shrine.
The parade started at 5 pm at the Otabisho. All of the things that can be seen in the picture of Wednesday’s post were removed and the mikoshi stood there for easy removal. The first one to be removed was the centre one. First there was a blessing of both the mikoshi and its bearers in front of the shrine to the right of the Otabisho. The mikoshi was then fixed to two long wooden beams and, amid shouts and clapping, was carried through the narrow streets of the inner city.
The same was done with the other mikoshi, first the “west” one, and finally the “east” one. One of them was carried through the narrow streets of Teramachi, and then through Nishiki food market, and I am still amazed how its bearers could manage to make the very narrow 90 degree turn between the two streets… Each mikoshi was accompanied by a person on a horse – the centre one by the chigo, by the way – and finally, around 9 pm, the individual parades turned towards Yasaka shrine, lead by a procession that carried all the things that were removed from the shrine to accompany the gods in the first place.
Once again, the bearers of the mikoshi showed off their strength by turning it around on its long wooden beams whenever possible, always accompanied by a rhythmic shouting of “hoi-tto”, “hoi-sso” or “ri-ssa”, and at Yasaka shrine itself each mikoshi was carried three times around the centre stage before it was placed in there again. The men carrying the mikoshi must have been exhausted at the end, but there was a certain excitement that went through them and the spectators, although I have seen a few with blood stains on their shoulders…
All of this took a very long time, partly also because of the fastening and unfastening of the heavy ropes that were used to tie the mikoshi to several wooden beams. Finally, around 11:30, all mikoshi had been placed again on the stage at the centre of Yasaka shrine. Then, all the lights were turned off and only the moon lit the final, most important scene: the return of the gods to the main shrine. A path was made with sacred rope between the centre stage and the main shrine building. Accompanied by music and hidden from view by screens, two priests went from the main shrine to the centre stage and at each mikoshi in turn either perfomed a rite or actually removed something they then brought back to the main building to enshrine there again.
Except for the music, it was quiet, the hundreds of remaining spectators were completely still, many of them had folded their hands in prayer. A palpable relief went through the crowd when the gods were returned to their proper home and the lights were turned on again. Many people then went to the shrine and offered a quick prayer. The scene was strangely touching, even though I am not religious.
It was midnight by then and I had to walk home. About 5 minutes after the gods had returned home, it started to rain. Well, the main part of Gion matsuri was over anyway.
Today is the last major event of Gion matsuri. The three mikoshi which have been transferred from Yasaka shrine to their temporary abode in the Otabisho in the city centre will be moved back to the shrine today. The ceremony starts with the procession of the mikoshi through the inner city at 17:00 and will end at Yasaka shrine around midnight. It was raining in the morning but hopefully it will clear up until the evening… I shall report on Saturday again.
Last Wednesday, July 17th, the festivities of Gion matsuri reached their peak. In the morning, there was the Yama Hoko Junko parade through the inner city, and in the early evening the three deities of Yasaka shrine were moved to their temporary residence at the Otabisho.
The procession in the morning was beautiful. In total, there are 32 floats, nine of them called hoko and the others yama. Both types date back to the 17th century or earlier, their wooden base is constructed without any nails or screws, only heavy ropes are used to tie the timber together. They are finally draped with tapestries – replicas of the real ones by now of course – which have been imported from as far off countries as the Netherlands, and thus sometimes depict strangely un-Asian scenes like camels, lions, or the departure of Ulysses from his wife. The originals are exhibited in the respective community houses during yoiyama, from July 14th – 16th and can be visited together with the more or less finished versions of the floats. Constructing a float – even the big hoko – takes only about two days, and this takes place from July 10th – 14th, after the Mikoshi Arai purification rite.
Anyway, back to the two types of floats: A yama is essentially an elevated platform on wheels, maybe four metres high. It is covered with tapestries and shows a well known scene from myth or real history on the platform. The almost life-sized wooden figures used for that are also exhibited during yoiyama, in fact, they are often placed at the centre of an altar and I have seen people placing offers in front of them and praying to them before they are moved onto the platforms. I am not entirely sure, but it seems that the figures used are really the originals, different than the tapestries.
The second type of floats are the hoko. They are enormous things resembling mobile war towers, on man sized wheels, with a roofed platform on which musicians (drums, flutes, bells…) sit and play throughout the procession. On the roof sits a long wooden pole, making the hoko up to 25 metres high in total, and the pole is decorated with straw and paper in the lower part and bears a special type of tip which gives the hoko its name. A hoko can weigh more than ten tons and it is pulled by 40 – 50 men with two thick ropes fastened to the front. Some of the hoko carry wooden images together with the musicians, and all of them are hung with beautiful tapestries.
The procession starts at 9 am, goes along three main streets of the city centre, and has to make three 90 degree turns on the way. I was at the intersection where the first turn would take place at about 8 am, and luckily enough I could still find a spot in the front row – it was surprisingly crowded all the way. Police lined the already empty streets and and many of the shops in this otherwise busy shopping arcade were closed. The people waited patiently, until, as final act before the procession, the overhead traffic lights and signs were folded away. Soon after, you could hear the tune of the musicians, and the very first hoko came down Shijo dori and reached the intersection.
The procession is always headed by the naginata hoko, which has a Japanese halberd, a naginata, on top of its pole. It is the one that has the chigo on board, a child performing rituals from the hoko, to drive evil spirits away. He is chosen among the 10 year old boys of Kyoto’s best families and wears heavy white makeup, golden headgear, and an orange robe with long sleeves.
Recall that a hoko is a 10 ton affair pulled by 50 men. They can only go straight and cannot be steered. So, any large change of direction – as the 90 degrees necessary at any of the three curves of the route – is an interesting spectacle. First, the hoko’s front wheels are placed on bamboo poles, slit in half lengthwise, while the back wheels are held in place by large woodblocks. The men standing in the lower part of the hoko, close to the wheels, shout their commands, wave their fans, and then the hoko is pulled to the side in a swift effort. One hoko was turned with only two strong pulls, the others needed more, so the whole operation can take a while. In any case it was very exciting to watch every time, and the musicians on top never ceased to play or even missed a tone.
Turning a yama is less of an issue as they can be simply lifted off the ground, although some groups made an effort to show off their strength and made one, even two full turns with the yama – to the great satisfaction of the spectators!
After the naginata hoko come all the others in random order as drawn by lot on July 2nd. The whole procession of all 32 floats takes about three hours to pass any one point. There are many breaks in between though, clearly because of the time the turning of the hoko takes, which cannot be predicted. All in all I found the procession very interesting, but also very tiring, especially as my front row spot meant I had to sit on the hard street with folded knees all the time. I now understand why people bring little folding stools with them – even those who accompany the hoko on foot take a break to sit down during the turning.
In the evening, the second part of the festivities take place. All three mikoshi of Yasaka shrine – and with them their deities – are moved to their temporary residence at the Otabisho, located at the intersection of Shijo and Teramachi. Once again, young men dressed in white carry the mikoshi through the streets of Kyoto to their destination. There are three routes through town, and the atmosphere is light again, with lots of encouraging shouting by the carriers and spectators as well.
I just came home from the big party in the inner city tonight. The whole inner city where the floats are standing is a pedestrian zone, and there are thousands of people on the street. The atmosphere is light hearted and relaxed, I’ve taken tons of pictures of lovely Japanese in Yukata and with an extra broad smile on their faces…
Today, there is the main parade of Gion matsuri, where the 32 floats that have been constructed in the last week will be drawn through the city – by manpower only, mind! I will have to get up early to claim the best spot for pictures, so to speak, so I’m off to bed now. I will report on Saturday.
Today is a national holiday in Japan, called Umi-no-Hi, translated as “Marine Day”. It takes place every third Monday in July and is meant to celebrate the ocean surrounding Japan in general. Many people take some time out to go to the beach.
Kyoto, however, is land locked and has no beach – although you could go a bit further North and visit lake Biwa. But, there is still Gion matsuri going on. In fact, the three days – yoiyama – from July 14th through 16th, leading up to the great procession on the 17th are the liveliest days of Gion matsuri. The floats for the procession have been finished and can be visited, some can even be climbed by spectators, for a fee of course. At each float people can buy special charms that are somehow tied to its history, and the original tapestries that cover the floats are on display, many of them dating back to the 17th or 18th century.
By now, the back streets where the floats are located are closed for traffic, and there are numerous stalls selling toys or clothing or various kinds of food (it’s amazing what you can put onto a stick, although I have to say the sausages and cucumbers look a bit … you get the idea.) Many spectators of all ages can be seen wearing yukata, the gorgeous light cotton summer kimonos of all colours that I find so attractive, especially on the sexy young men around here, they are so my kind of … but, I digress. The whole thing is an enormous party, in the evenings even the very big streets become pedestrian zones, and the whole atmosphere is light and cheerful. Tomorrow, the evening just before the procession of the floats is traditionally the biggest evening, and I will be there again, enjoying the lights and the atmosphere and in general … the views.
Gion matsuri is one of the three greatest local festivals in Japan, together with the Kanda matsuri in Tokyo and the Tenjin matsuri in Osaka, but it is said to be the largest and gayest of the three. It is also one of the three most important ones in Kyoto, together with the Aoi matsuri and the Jidai matsuri. It starts on July 1st and ends on July 31st, and there are many different events taking place throughout the month and throughout the neighborhood of Gion and the inner city. The two most important events take place on July 10th and 17th.
Gion matsuri is the festival associated with Gion shrine, the old name of Yasaka shrine. It started in 869, when the country was stricken with a plague and the emperor dispatched his messenger to Gion shrine for pray for the end of the plague. The brother of the sun goddess is inshrined at Yasaka, and in order to relieve the sick, his spirit was carried, in little portable shrines, through Kyoto. As this proved successful to end the plague, this ritual is still performed today.
July 10th is the day of Mikoshi Arai Purification, a purification rite in which the Mikoshi, a small portable shrine in which the principle deity will be transported, is taken to the river and cleansed with water from the Kamo. The preparations are extensive, and the whole ceremony takes several hours.
First there is the Omukae Chochin, a procession of children dressed in various costumes and accompanying adults with lanterns and musicians playing flutes and drums, which leaves Yasaka shrine at 4:30 pm. They welcome the other procession of the Mikoshi later on.
After a break, at 7 pm, a second procession leaves the shrine, goes to the river, and then returns to the shrine again. It consists of young men dressed in traditional white clothes, Happi, carrying an enormous torch with them, the fire and smoke of which is meant to cleanse the path for the Mikoshi.
This portable shrine, fastened onto long, heavy wooden beams is carried on the shoulders of the same young men to the river in the final and largest procession of the day. Two or three of the same massive torches as before are carried in front and at the end of the procession, in the middle of which is the Mikoshi. Here, the men are shouting, rhythmically encouraging each other to greater efforts. At times they stop and the men carrying the Mikoshi start jumping up and down, rocking the little shrine, and then, as a final move they lift it up high over their heads.
When they – now merged with the childrens’ procession of the afternoon – arrive back at the shrine, the Mikoshi, after circling the centre stage and being lifted and rocked one last time, is then placed onto the platform of the stage at the centre of the shrine and covered again with gold cloth, metal mirrors, and red rope.
Meanwhile, there are dances performed by the four groups of children that walked in the afternoon procession. In the picture below, the little ones with the red wigs are between three and five years old, and the boys dressed as swans are six. The whole ceremony was finished and the Mikoshi redressed in its usual golden splendor at around 10 pm. Once again I am sorry that I neither understand the details of the ceremony, nor the significance of the costumes or the dances. But then again, I wonder how many of the Japanese spectators do.
Yesterday was the seventh day of the seventh month, which is the day when the Tanabata festival takes place. The legend tells of two lovers, Orihime (represented by Vega) and Hikoboshi (Altair), who have to live all year separated by the Milky Way, and are only allowed to meet for one single night – on the seventh day of the seventh month. A very touching story indeed… The date of course refers to the lunar calender, and in some places (Sendai for example), it is still celebrated then. It seems to be a very local festival, with varying types of celebrations, often even depending on the participating shrine. A fixed part of the festivities everywhere is to write a wish onto a piece of paper and tie it to one of the bamboo trees that are set up at shrines, and pray to the gods for the fulfillment of the wishes. Never short of things I want, I went to Shiramine shrine, because the ceremony there has an extra feature…
It was an especially nice ceremony indeed. It was performed by three Shinto priests of different ranks, with incantations in front of the shrine in the beginning. Then, at the raised platform in the center of the precincts, a quartet of musicians (one koto and three types of wind instruments I couldn’t quite make out) began to play a tune that can be described as … odd, at least to Western ears. They accompanied a group of four shrine maidens, elaborately dressed, with fans and headgear, who performed a dance in honour of the deity. I am quite sure every single movement had a specific meaning, but of course, it was completely lost on me.
After the dance, the ceremony continued and once again, a small number of (most certainly paying) participants could take part in the ritual offering of paper and green branches to the deity. Some more chanting concluded the ceremony.
The interesting bit here was a person with a microphone telling the spectators – and also the participants – what would happen next, when they had to stand, bow, and were allowed to sit again. It reminded me very much of the priests in our churches who, at weddings, funerals and the like, have to guide their hapless sheep in a quite similar manner…
Anyway, at the end of the ceremony, the fun feature began. Shiramine is the shrine where people go to pray for luck – in various ball games, especially soccer. Usually, a shrine receives offerings for the gods to grant a wish and when they have done so. And here, there are many footballs of all sizes offered, often with a note or signature written on them, and they are displayed. It gives the shrine an appearance very different from all the others with their large stacks of sake barrels!
So, the fun feature at Shiramine shrine every year at the Tanabata festival is the playing of the ball game called Kemari, where eight players, men and women, wonderfully dressed in old court costumes and black leather shoes, play kick up with a white ball made from deer skin, which had just been blessed in the preceding ceremony. It was very hot and humid yesterday, and the players’ clothing with its several layers and endless sleeves and hakama must have been incredibly hot indeed, but the obvious and genuine fun the players had in the game made it extra fun to watch too. When the game was over, some of the spectators were invited to try kick ups as well, which I thought was a very nice move.
I went home then, bought some sweet bread and a chocolate milk and took a break on a shadowy bench at the river. It was a wonderful day.