I am back and trying to learn the me-su (female oni) dance, mostly just by watching. Aside from the constant burning of my joints, it seems that some of my joints aren’t very stable and the bones are prone to pop out of joint easily, so I don’t want to push my knees too hard, which the dancing would do.
I don’t think I can drum, either…well…to reiterate…I can drum, it’s just I keep dropping bachi, not having a lot of control with the first joints of my fingers swollen up.
Freaky stuff.
Highlights of this trip so far include a trip to Asakusa to pick up random costume bits and get some agemanju.
What’s really great is the total shift with regards to smoking.Â
In the past I have been stuck in smoking cars on trains getting to and from places in Japan. The Max Toki shinkansen train from Tokyo to Niigata (direct) is a completely non-smoking train.
There are small glass-enclosed smoking rooms on the platforms that people jam themseves into to grab a quick smoke, and they aren’t that big at all. Even though people are used to be jammed into train cars here in similar fashion during rush hour, it’s a bit comical and slightly tragic to see them jam themselves into these small boxes to get a fix.
I went to the last practice for the onigumi last night. It was hard. I wanted to drum. I wanted to dance. It was good, though. The sound of the drum reverberated through the small garage that’s converted each Spring into a practice space, and I got to see my fellow group members honing their skills as they danced, one by one.
The girl who had joined last year but hadn’t made shin oni was there. I didn’t see her name on the wall. I don’t know if she made it this year.
It strikes deep. I hadn’t considered the possibility that someone might not make it…although…maybe Chie said she didn’t and I didn’t take it to heart.
I didn’t expect to be allowed to participate in the festival the first time I came, and somewhat assumed they just mostly let folks who came to practice (and who did reasonably well enough) participate when they let me dance and drum, but…that’s not the case at all.
Which brings to mind the assumption by a lot of folks (who play Taiko in North America) that in a Japanese village matsuri everyone gathers and is allowed to drum or dance, regardless of skill level.
Certainly there is a certain level of collectivism that is more inclusive than exclusive here, and there are probably festivals where everyone does get to do something, but in my experience that is most often not the case…except for something like O-Bon, where everyone gathers and dances. Even then, not everyone gets to play the music for the dancing. The singers and other musicians, at the very least, need the drummers to keep a steady beat.
When I danced Eisa I’d heard stories of tests of strength, agility and endurance that traditionally took place before people were even allowed to learn the dances.
Here…well yeah…kids might be allowed to muddle through, especially for their own homes, but, yah…some people don’t make it.
I guess the thing to remember is that it isn’t always just about getting together and having a good time in a festival. There is also an element of serious ritual. The participants in a matsuri are basically participating in community Shinto ceremonies. It includes a sense of ritual purification, embodying or placating kami, and participating in traditions that span generations…often in a prayerful way.
It’s not always a matter of skill, either. My senpai, Hiro, will not be dancing this year because he’s had a death in his immediate family. “Because the dance is to purify a home and bring good luck, no one wants someone who is so unlucky to dance at their house.” Said he.
In planning to try to bring this style of festival dancing to North America, the group here would very much like me to find an active Shinto shrine to partner with.
I’ve got my work cut out for me….oh…and if you are interested in participating in this project, please let me know.