Life In Japan: Respect for the Aged Day

I know it looks like I’ve already been hitting the sake, but I hadn’t opened it yet. It’s just that I’m very old.

I’ve written before about the uniquely wonderful national holidays Japan celebrates. It’s also talked about in my book LIVE FROM JAPAN!

This past Monday was 敬老の日, Keirō no Hi, Respect for the Aged Day here, my wife had the day off from teaching, and we had a barbecue celebration with her mother (definitely an aged person) and her older daughters. It was a splendid little party in the pergola I built a couple years ago.

Just before our festivities got fully rolling, I got a visit from one of my neighbors. The word had reached the highest government institutions. John Rachel turned 75 this summer, making me an official member of the “aged”. Not to diminish the prestige or importance of reaching this chronological benchmark, it’s not really a very exclusive club. People live very long lives here, and Japan this year recorded more people age 100 or above than ever in its history.

In any case, my neighbor brought with him gifts, those in the photo at the top.

The box of treats, including crackers and tea, was from the greater Tambasasayama area community. The bottle of expensive sake was from the mayor! He even wrote a letter of congratulations.

I suspect that this lovely gift-giving gesture was probably just a practice of my home town and other similar ones, modest size cities with more cohesion and sociability, and not the norm in the big cities.

But what a great touch on top of having a whole national holiday dedicated to us old folks!

And what a great way to make an “outsider” like me feel welcome in this charming and always amazing country, full of heart and adventure.

Finally, I have to draw attention to one of the treats.

My wife, Masumi, says these are really yummy!

Here is the rough translation of the messages on the package.

Life begins at 70.

When the angel comes for you at 70, tell him you’re not home.

When the angel comes for you at 80, tell him it’s too early.

When the angel comes for you at 90, tell him you’re not in a hurry.

When the angel comes for you at 100, tell him when the time comes you’ll be there.

Hmm. I assume the angel(s) speak Japanese. I think I better get cracking and make sure I’m up to speed with my command of the language!

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

Life In Japan: Respect for the Aged Day | John Rachel

Life In Japan: Festival of the Portable Shrines

Every year during the third week in October we have a most unique and marvelous festival here called the Festival of the Portable Shrines.

I don't exactly know either its "purpose" or how to describe it.  Hopefully the photos and video will offer some idea what an exhilarating two days we have here in Tambasasayama, as the streets fill with colorful costumes, huge shrines either on wheels or being carried by the heartier men -- many of whom are extremely inebriated on local sake -- and visitors from all over who come to enjoy the festivities.

We see a lot of unfamiliar faces.  This festival coincides with the soybean harvest, and our town is known for having the most delicious soybeans in Japan.  So we see Japanese from all the surrounding prefectures -- the Japanese equivalent of states in the U.S. -- even from as far as Tokyo, which is over 500 kilometers (320 miles) away.  There's also a decent mix of Westerners in town.  ALTs -- Assistant Language Teachers who typically teach English in the area junior and senior high schools -- converge from the entire region.  This is also the time that the exchange students arrive from Walla Walla, Washington -- which is Tambasasayama's sister city in the U.S. -- to experience a two weeks concentrated dose of Japanese culture.

And here's a short video compilation from just last week.

See you next year!  Bring your smiles.


[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]



Life In Japan: Festival of the Portable Shrines

Benten Shrine Ceremony

I mentioned in I Love Japan Redux that my local village has quite a number of events and various excuses to get us all together in one place doing something, working or playing, sometimes both.

 

This past weekend was our annual Benten Shrine ceremony.  In addition to every village having a community center, most also have a dedicated shrine.  Ours honors Benten, the goddess of the arts, dance, music.  That works for Masumi and I, in that she's an accomplished pianist and opera singer, and I write pulp fiction.

Two weeks ago we cleaned up the area in preparation for today's informal get-together -- cleared a lot of undergrowth, removed weeds from the hedge rows, generally tidied up.
Then on Saturday, at 11 am sharp -- Japanese are never late! -- we assembled in the cluster of trees at the top of the hill where the shrine sits.  

 

It's nothing very spectacular, a modest but adequate shrine -- we've gotten no complaints from Benten or any of the other Shinto deities.

 

A monk had traveled all the way from either Tokyo or Osaka to say prayers and conduct a short service.  His sect is allied with water. 

I guess because the Benten shrine is next to the water, and historically our section of town is sometimes threatened by flooding, his special blessings have direct relevance. 

As he chanted incantations, waved special tree branches, and a prayer paddle, the rest of us stood, watched, listened, bowed several times. I have no idea what's going on at these things.  I just go with the flow.  It's all quite pleasant, solemn but not tense.  Fortunately, I got no flashbacks to my Catholic experience growing up.  Otherwise, a strait jacket would have been required.


 

Each family contributes snacks to the ceremony.  The offerings sit on special wood stands every household owns, called a さんぼう -- pronounced sanbou -- and these stands are placed around the Buddha figure at the head of the shrine.  Since the snacks are left in their bags, though さんぼう are small, each one holds a decent amount of cookies, candy, pastries, even cups of instant noodles and soups. 

After the brief ceremony, we experienced the high point -- especially for the kids -- of the whole event.  Once the ceremony conducted by the monk was complete, the さんぼう were removed from the altar and all of the contributions of edible treats were piled on a table.  The kids lined up in front, adults behind them.  Most had a plastic bag in hand and ready. 

The treats were then thrown wildly to the attendees and everyone scrambled to catch and grab what they can.  It's sort of a Shinto Halloween without costumes.

Once all the treats had been given away, the adults were treated to shots of sake and strips of dried squid.  



I know I know.  You Westerners are thinking 'Dried squid? Yuk!'  All I can say is it took me a while.  At first some of the snacking here seems downright weird -- as if jaw breakers, licorice, beef jerky, Pop Rocks and other crazy stuff we 外人 (gaijin) eat aren't weird, right? -- but I've developed a solid taste for most everything Japanese, after coming and going for ten years.  The truth is that dried squid is actually rather delicious!  It's like salty rope.  Salty rope?  Doesn't that put your salivary glands in overdrive just thinking about it?

The whole celebration took about an hour.  Lots of smiles, good will, warm feelings.



I think it got Benten's seal of approval.

Do I hear music?

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . http://jdrachel.com ]



Benten Shrine Ceremony

I love Japan!

 

For a number of reasons I don't need to get into here, I don't own a smart phone.

But two days ago, I regretted not having one with me. Or at least a camera.

I was doing my daily 20 km bike ride. Most of my preferred riding is through pastoral areas, soybean and rice fields, often skirting Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines, and sometimes through the heart of town by the 400-year-old castle ruins we have here.

But there was one stretch for that particular day's ride which took me down a secondary road __ not really a highway and not all that busy, but it is a route regularly used by cars, buses, and heavy trucks.

That's when I saw him.

I so wish I'd been able to take a photo to post here.

A large delivery truck was pulled to the side of the road. The driver was bent down before some beautiful orchids growing in a garden adjacent to the road.

He did have a smart phone and was taking pictures.

Whatever important items were on their way to wherever important items go, would just have to wait patiently in the bed of his massive truck, because this gentleman spotted some splendid flowers along the route, and wanted to show them to somebody.

His wife . . . his kids . . . his mom or dad . . . his best friend?

Just a common truck driver.

But an uncommon man.

Which is pretty common around here.



[ This originated at the author's personal web site . . . http://jdrachel.com ]