Don't Blink

Earlier tonight, I'd not long come home from work when the phone rang.

"Brendan, get outside now!" Efe screamed. "Hurry! It's happening right now!"

The following 20 seconds or so are a blur. I dropped what I was doing, turned the stove off (much to the disappointment of my meat and pasta) and flew down the stairs like a ghost. Just as I reached the end of the driveway, a bunch of guys carrying a mikoshi (portable shrine) paraded by, lit by lanterns and accompanied with ethnic flute and a drum beat. I'd arrived just in time.

You may remember the mikoshi I witnessed a year and a half ago. Tonight's was to celebrate the beginning of spring. It's a very local festival, carried out by about ten guys or so, and followed by no more than a dozen residents from the area at any one time. I immediately caught up with Efe, Phil, and Yukiko, and we joined the small procession down the street.

Ten meters later we reached someone's house. The mikoshi was carried around the back, and we were invited to follow. There, as we all crowded beside the mikoshi in someone's narrow backyard, our faces lit by the light coming from the back room, we witnessed an amazing dragon dance/ritual.


I want to mention that I was 100% respectful in our local crowd and didn't take this video. However, since I couldn't stop Efe from taking it, I made him send it to me afterwards.

After the short performance, the elderly man with the dragon mask approached Efe, Phil, Yukiko and I. He removed the mask, then proceeded to open and close its mouth gently on our heads, as if the dragon were playfully nipping at us. But then the man explained that this was a ritual from ancient times, so that people had protection against the common cold.

Everyone was so friendly; I think they were honoured that they had a small group of foreigners celebrating the festival with them. We were immediately offered a can of beer, which I felt obliged to take, and engaged in conversation with the festival's organisers. I got the beer down, and although it's not as hard as it used to be, I still maintain that beer is liquid rubbish.

Perhaps ten minutes later the two boys holding the lanterns - probably about 16-years-old - prepared to lead the procession once again. One of the boys looked at the other, slightly confused, and said in Japanese, "What are we supposed to do?" and the other replied in English, "SUPPORT!" I wish I could properly describe just how funny that was.

The festival continued, me slowly depleting my beer. Outside a quiet izakaya (a Japanese-style bar) in my neighbourhood, I was treated to oden (the one I took was a boiled egg) and spoke to a woman from China, who had lived in Japan for eight years. Her English was very good, after having been an English teacher in China long ago. So while all my friends went home, I continued on with the festival chatting with her. It was just so amazing, spending time with people who live in the buildings around me and getting to know some of them. Even after the Chinese woman and her family returned home, I kept following the mikoshi down the streets and spoke to one of the elderly men in charge of the festival. He was a friendly man, but with a definite air of authority about him. I relished using the most polite Japanese I knew while he spoke back to me with casual language; it doesn't get any more authentic than that.

Some time later, I counted my lucky stars that I knew a very polite phrase for how to take my leave. I turned around and started heading home... and realised very quickly that I wasn't sure where exactly I was. It didn't take long to get home, but it was somehow sad seeing the lights of the lanterns disappear down the street behind me, and listening to the music fade into the night.

I returned home to my uncooked meat, cold pasta and silence.