Still playing catch-up; I'm a month behind on my letter-writing... 

 

After the Suigosai Festival the first weekend of August, I worked just two impatient days before my weeklong holiday began. Tuesday and Wednesday dragged slowly by. Some of my students were also going to go on holiday; others had no real holidays, and had to work the whole time. I rushed to prepare next week’s lessons, so I would have no work to worry about while on vacation. I left work on Wednesday night with seven days’ holiday stretching before me, and my worried manager and head teacher’s warnings not to get sick ringing in my ears.

 

Many people, gaijin and Japanese alike, make plans to travel during the Obon holidays. Seiji and I had made tentative plans to go to the Oki Islands, but I knew we wouldn’t go. Everyone is travelling during Obon, so places are very crowded. And I really just wanted to relax

 

A word about Obon; Obon is a Japanese Buddhist holiday when the spirits of the dead are honoured all over Japan. People all over Japan return to their hometowns to celebrate and mourn for the departed and have family reunions. Many summer festivals are held during Obon, and there are special Obon dances (none of which I saw). I must say I mostly celebrated it as A WEEK AWAY FROM WORK! Jennifer, I think, appreciated the sentiment of the occasion more; her grandmother had died about a week before, and there was nothing she could do; she couldn’t even go home. One of her students, a Buddhist priest, held a ceremony at his temple for her grandmother. She described the ceremony to me. Salt is used for purification in Buddhist funeral rites (exactly how, I’m not sure, but it’s also sprinkled on the ground before a sumo match to purify the ring –sumo is 90% ritual, 10% fighting), and five Buddhist priests sang and burned incense; she said her grandmother would have been tickled. It gave Jennifer some comfort, but she’s going through a rough time.

 

She and I talked about it a little at Cleve’s birthday party at ARGO on Friday night. Seiji’s friend Aki, was DJ-ing, and the place was very crowded with gaijin and Japanese alike. Fujihara-san, an easy-going young barman-for-hire, was working the bar. All of the ARGO clothing had been put away to prevent beer spills on the merchandise; a wise precaution. I was dancing, and the bar was extremely hot, but the thick, humid air outside offered little relief.  Cleve, the birthday boy, was unfashionably late; he was running a beer tent at the big Jazz Festival at the castle and didn’t return to ARGO until around 11:30. By that time, many of his birthday guests had achieved a euphoric level of inebriation. Someone had stolen Yusuke’s fedora, and it was being passed around the dance floor, worn by various ladies (I have a picture of Taeko wearing it). At one point the gentlemen in the bar started to remove their shirts (some of them really shouldn’t have), but none of the ladies followed suit despite the heat. The lightsabres came out again. And Cleve, when he returned, started pouring generous shots of vodka into the mouths of his guests. It was a pretty wild, but very good-natured, party. Giovanni, aka John, the profane priest, was there; he persisted yet again in comparing me to a young Barbara Streisand. He seemed a little hurt that I wasn’t completely delighted by the comparison. He brought with him a fellow Aussie, Mike Enjo, who I would get to know pretty well soon after. Mike was in Matsue with his wife, Aya, who grew up here, and their two children. He took her last name to continue the family line. He is a good-looking, easy-going guy, originally from the Isle of Wight. I told him how to get to Kaya, because he wanted to get out more. Then I left with Kei and Yukiko, pushing my bike. They continued on to meet Seiji at Kaya, but I was too tired and went home.

 

The next day, August 11, was Stephen’s yukata party. Did I say I was looking forward to Obon to get some rest? Well, clearly my holiday had other ideas. I took it easy during the day, then put on my yukata all by myself and got ready to go. Seiji picked me up before six, and I suggested that, since we had a little time, we should go see the sunset at Lake Shinji. It was beautiful on the sandy boardwalk; the sky was a soft, pearly shade of pink, and there was a blue-gray haze on the hills. Nights like this are good for the soul.

 

Then we went to the first location of the yukata party, a picturesque café and restaurant in the Karakuro district. It was a lovely place. The back was filled with some of Stephen’s students and acquaintances, all in jimbei or yukata. Seiji left me there to go prepare Kaya for the second part of the yukata party; Yukiko was helping him decorate. Stephen introduced me to a trio of his students and we chatted for a while. I also had a light meal, including some delicious tofu (yes, I said ‘delicious tofu’. And it was. I never tasted tofu like this in Canada). Taeko also came by with Angelo, a tall, pleasant Italian guy, and suddenly her new obsession – obsession, I say! - with learning Italian became a little clearer.

 

Seiji came back after Kaya was set up, and we drove back to Kaya. Soft light from new paper lanterns cast a lovely glow over the room; Kaya never looked prettier. The stage was set up for the musical entertainment; Seiji had arranged with his friend Jiro to have traditional yasugi-bushi music sung. ‘Yasugi-bushi’ is a traditional style of music and dance originating in Yusugi, a small town nearby. I was very excited about it.

 

Rika, my student, and her boyfriend Roger, both came by in yukata and posed for my pictures. Then Keith and Stephen came by, fluttering their fans in the heat. Soon the place was filling up with people. Reiko made a splash in her yukata, a very unusual modern style, white with large blue polkadots. She was sitting beside a very outlandish, tiny, oval little woman with a short shock of bushy hair that completely covered her eyes. Seiji told me later she is the owner of a very famous kimono shop in Matsue. Jiro and his fellow musicians came and began to set up. Jiro was wearing a gold kimono; he said usually he plays the pipes instead of singing, so when he gets the chance to sing he likes to wear his gold kimono. It sure looked good on him. I was fascinated by the shamisen player too, all decked out in a black kimono with his family crest displayed, and gray hakama (long, flowing pants). He was tuning up in the corner. The shamisen is, well, long like a banjo and with a sort of similar sound, but fewer strings.

 

They performed for about thirty or forty minutes. Jiro sang a selection of songs, accompanied by the shamisen and drums. Then the drummer did a performance using zeni-taiko, or “coin drums”. These are batons filled with coins that make a rattling sound when swung. The drummer swung and tossed, threw and caught them to the tune that Jiro and the shamisen player played. But Kaya was very narrow, and he fumbled a few times; something Jiro said later he NEVER did. But it was very exciting to watch.

 

I enjoyed the yukata party more than Cleve’s birthday; it was more low-key, with fewer people, and I could relax and chat more with my friends.

 

Sunday, I did my damnedest to do nothing. I bought groceries and indulged my urge for a McDonald’s hamburger (here in Japan, that translates as MA-KA-DO-NO-RU-DO HA-MU-BA-GA). It could be my imagination, but it tasted better than a Western McDonald’s hamburger. I haven’t had it yet, but there is a ‘shrimp-burger’ on the McDonald’s menu here.

 

On the way home in the blistering heat, I stopped by the small bridge over the canal in the park to look at the ducks paddling in the water. As I leaned over, I noticed a swirl of movement below me, and saw a massive school of fish - hundreds of them - in the shadow of the bridge. I was puzzling out the reason when it came to me; the water was too hot for them. They had taken refuge in the shade. Wow. Summer in Japan is even too hot for the fish.

 

Monday, I started to develop some of the pictures I have taken since I got here. Boy, I’ve taken a lot of pictures. It’s a little expensive to develop them all, so I’m doing it in little batches. That evening, Seiji and I went to the Gessho-ji Temple, as reported previously, to see the stone lamps lit up and welcoming the spirits of the dead home.

 

More to come, but I’ve been writing a while. I’ve got to take a break…

 

Love, Sarah