Saturday, Oct. 22 and Sunday, Oct. 23 was the local Aki Matsuri, or Autumn Festival, in the southern portion of Harima-cho. Autumn Festival is different all over Japan, but one of the most common types is where men from the local community transport a shrine through town. Traditionally, the shrine is pushed and pulled on wheels on Saturday and carried on Sunday. Considering the shrine weighs around two metric tons (about 4400 pounds), and that weight is carried by 40 people who are being issued commands in Japanese, Craig, Sean and I felt pushing for a full day on Saturday and bowing out on Sunday would be fare.
We showed up at our local community center at 8:30 a.m. sharp, and were promptly issued blue happi coats, and colored headbands. Everyone seemed excited to have the three gaijin around and we were quickly prompted to sit and enjoy some early morning sake. After we were sufficiently prepared, we set out for another community center further south of town. That is where the shrine resides. On the walk over there was one holy child with us, who was being carried atop the shoulders of one of the younger members of our expedition. Aside from the three gaijin, there were a half-dozen participants of university age, and everyone else spanned from middle-aged to old.
When we reached the shrine, the rest of the participants were there to greet us. There were various residents of four different local communities including a dozen or more Harima-cho firefighters. Apparently there are not any fires or other emergencies during Autumn Festival, because it looked like the whole gang was there. There were three more holy children all ready to take part. I am pretty certain that the holy children are only “holy” for the day, because a couple of them go to the elementary school I teach at.
After various introductions and explanations of the day, which were lost on me, everyone finished suiting up so we could go. The four children climbed up into the shrine and brought with them pillows to sit on, so they were relatively comfortable while they chanted and banged drums all day. The four of them sat face to face so each of their headbands hung out the shrine over each of its four walls. Once everyone was set we pushed out.
While the shrines weight was amazing it was easy enough to push on wheels. The hard part was maneuvering it down some of the narrow Japanese side streets. There were a few moments where the roads got narrow enough where those pushing from the posts on the side of the cart had to move to the inside or they would get pinned between the shrine and the buildings. For a long stretch it was close quarters, and I had to do my best not to step on the heels of the man in front of me while mine were being stepped on from behind. It could not be helped. On some of the roads, both sides were an inch from running into a building or tearing out a bush.
Throughout the day we pushed, and chanted and took breaks from time to time. It was hard to make out the chants perfectly, but I did my best to say it right. I’m sure my chanting probably was not perfect but I just lowered my volume when I got to a part I was unsure about. The children chanted constantly. So much so that their voices started giving out around 3 p.m. Fortunately, the regular breaks kept giving them just enough energy to push on throughout the day.
While the kids chanted constantly most of us only chanted when the shrine made a stop along the rode. Throughout the day, one of our leaders was collecting envelopes filled with money from local homes and businesses. Since most Japanese do not attend religious ceremonies on a weekly basis, special events such as festivals are a time for them to give donations to their local temple.
Believe it or not, there were times during the twelve-hour day when pushing the shrine grew tiresome. Some of the highlights were when we had to charge up a hill and when we ran with the shrine down the main highway through town. In the second case, our firemen took charge of traffic and we happily pushed our two-ton shrine down the road while all the cars waited at a green light. My only regret is that they did not trust us enough to run from the front of the shrine, and we were asked to push at the back.
We had a free lunch at a local café, and later a free dinner provided by our local community center. Dinner was a rather fish-filled bento (boxed-lunch) that I had some minor issues with while eating. We also were provided with an endless supply of Japanese beer and some fine Japanese sake with gold flakes floating in it. The locals encouraged us to drink, but we could not keep up with the Japanese who are quite susceptible to just a little bit of alcohol.
After everyone had eaten and drank his fill, someone decided we should go out and push the shrine some more now that all of us had a second wind. So we walked ten minutes back to the other community center to retrieve the shrine. The plan was to walk from one center to the other and back. During the day, this ten-minute walk was a 30-minute push, but it took us almost 90 minutes to do it at night. Someone had decided we should stop and chant every time we had a spectator whether they paid or not. At one point we chanted seven times in a row. I had no idea why.
We passed by the second community center at about 8:30 p.m. and began making a loop back toward the first one. It had grown quite brisk; we were sick of pushing; we did not want to push for another 90 minutes; and we were right by our apartment, so we bailed to let the rest of the men push the shrine back to its home.
I never returned my borrowed happi and headband. It seems like quite a hassle to do so now. Perhaps I will just wait until next year. If I stay in Japan, I will definitely push the shrine at the next Autumn Festival.
