The Nagamochi

Well, this was a surprise...

I knew something was going on when I saw a group of people in purple yukaka in my neighbourhood around lunchtime.  Later, when I was at the supermarket, I asked the woman behind the counter if she knew.

"What's happening today?  There are people in Onbashira-like costumes..."

"Today?  No, the Satobiki doesn't start till May..."

On my way home, I heard singing and chanting... and a strange kind of creaking sound.  There were several groups in the vicinity, but I still had no idea what they were doing.  Finally, as I reached my apartment complex, I ran right into one of the groups.

On the fringes of the group, an old man was directing any passing cars with a red rod.  I decided he would be a good person to ask.

It turns out that this was actually an Onbashira-related festival, therefore taking place only in the years of Onbashira (every six years).  The Nagamochi, which is the chest hanging from these creaking wooden poles, was once used to carry food and clothing to those taking part in the Onbashira Festival.  Now, although this is no longer the case, the Nagamochi parade and dance traditions continue around Shimosuwa at various points (which I suspect are paid for by the locals).

Amy sent this to me later

"They're about to start," the old man told me.  I stood in the car park and watched with an open jaw.  After five years in Japan, so many things that were once otherworldly have begun to feel somewhat familiar. But as I watched this group, I was hit by that sense of wonder and surprise that took hold of me so many times in my first couple of years here.  It was great to be able to feel that again.


After their initial performance, I noticed that my friend Amy (who lives in the same apartment complex) had heard the commotion and come out to watch it too.  Everyone was so friendly, inviting Amy and I to the front of our neighbours' home to watch the dance.  Following this, they threw their purple yukata over our shoulders and took photos for us.

Amy and I were having so much fun, I dumped my shopping over the side of my balcony (cringing as my tomatoes hit the concrete) and we hastened after them so we could watch their next performance.

They let me co-carry the nagamochi too.

Finally, the procession moved on to the next area, so Amy and I headed home.  I returned to my balcony to salvage what was left of my tomatoes, grinning like a man who has no regrets.