あばれ祭り

Let the fire and violence begin....

Finally, it came. The weekend I have been waiting ten months for, the festival that is talked about year-round in Noto cho, the most famous festival in the Noto: Ushitsu Abare Matsuri. 

Abare Matsuri is one of my town's major festivals and due to its incredible uniqueness it is famous at least in Ishikawa. Abare means rage or to act violently, and that theme is reflected throughout the festival with the use of fire and violence to appease the town's gods. Abare matsuri is the annual festival to appeal to the gods to bring prosperity to the town of Ushitsu. As my judo coach explained to me, the two gods like violence and are happy when the townspeople use violence to celebrate the god. Now this is not that people are violent with each other at all, the violence is directed toward the gods alone through the mikoshi parade. The first night the kiriko lanterns are paraded around town, but the second night it really gets exciting when the mikoshis join the procession. The mikoshi are portable shrines meant to house the gods. In order to make the gods happy the men smash and burn the shrines to pieces during the night on the second day.  I hope I never forget how exciting this festival is.

I took the day off last Friday so I could help my "taiko mom" (who is also my Judo coach's wife) with festival preparations. So I parked by the wharf and headed to their house around noon. As soon as I walked in, my coach gave me a drink of Omiki, "God Sake," as he called it. It is special sake that is used in ceremonies at the shrines and for special occasions. He served a swig of omiki to all his family members and guests that came to his house during the festival.

His wife was already busy preparing huge dishes of food, so I went straight into the kitchen to help. I shaped over 50 sekigohan onigiri for her. Sekigohan is rice cooked with adzuki beans and is usually eaten on special occasions. Since she had been cooking all morning, there were several pans with foods mounded up and trays upon trays of dishes waiting to be filled. My coach stopped to put a little cup of omiki and one of my freshly made onigiris on the family shrine with a bow as an offering. Around 2:30 they dressed me up in festival gear, my black work pants that I always wear for taiko and a button up cotton festival shirt that was white with black dots. In fact, their eldest son actually walked into the room wearing that shirt and I just commented that I liked it so his mom asked him to let me wear it! I tried to protest that he could have first choice but he didn't care at all and took it right off and gave it to me to wear. He had a hapi that matched the rest of his team mates anyway.

My coach's neighborhood's kiriko team, who I carried with for the festival

My coach's son perched on the kiriko and playing taiko during a break.

Once we were geared up we went out into the rain for the afternoon kiriko carrying. The kiriko are huge hand-built lanterns which are carried by generally around 30 people on their shoulders to light up the streets for the gods. They are extremely heavy, but it is so fulfilling to carry them with everyone else, hoisting and heaving them together and chanting in unison to the beat of the taiko drums. Adults and young people carry the kiriko, but there are always at least five children riding who beat the taiko drums and play their flutes to a special Abare tune. The kiriko are quite huge, and the neighborhood streets quite narrow so the kiriko procession down the neighborhood streets is tricky to navigate. The leaders have to be constantly vigilant to watch the kiriko and make sure we don't bang it into something on one side or fall in the river on the other side! Also there were so many low-hanging wires that we had to carefully steer under. Anytime we got to a wide street other kirikos would march by so close. Evidentally sometimes people get injured if another kiriko's huge wooden beams bang into them (or if someone falls into the river while carrying the kiriko). My coach was very vigilant about protecting me, anytime a kiriko would come close he would step in front of me or steer the other kiriko away to make sure there was no chance I would get smashed by one of the huge beams! He was constantly reminding me if it gets dangerous to duck under the kiriko beams where it is safe. For about two hours the teams carried the kiriko in circuits around their cho (neighborhood) in order to rev up the atmosphere and get everyone excited for the festival. As I said, it was raining steadily the whole afternoon so of course we all got a bit wet, but I hardly noticed since I was so excited!

At the end of the afternoon run, we lined up the kirikos by the wharf where they would wait until night.

Around 5 or 6 we headed back to our houses for the dinner parties, this is where the night really started! Those of us who were out with the kiriko team strolled into the house to find the living transformed. The lady of the house had arranged the food into splendid platters to adorn the table. I don't think I will ever get used to how extravagant Japanese meals often look. There were already a few guests present, and upon sitting down we were given individual dishes of noodles and small plates so we could freely take food from any of the platters. That living room is where I spent the next three or four hours, drinking and socializing with the guests who came and went.

Suddenly around 9, someone announced it was kiriko time- so the younger generation was the first to jump to our feet, don our tabi (traditional Japanese shoes) and run outside to join the kiriko teams. We raced to the kirikos and jumped right in, lifting the wooden beams onto our shoulders to march down the street in a long procession of about 40 kirikos. Once we reached the center of town, the night's main event started!

The kiriko teams raced in circles around three 20-30 foot tall blazing torches with crowds of hundreds of people watching- who my coach excitedly referred to as "the gallery" all weekend. We carried the kirikos right next to the huge torches, with sparks and fire raining down around us. Supposedly this is one of the dangerous and extremely hot parts of Abare matsuri- however I do not remember any discomfort of the sort! But I ran with my kiriko team around the burning twenty foot tall torches laughing the whole way.

Yes, we ran round like that.

Right after the torch circling was done, the kiriko teams headed back to their separate neighborhoods. I broke off to say hello to a few JETs who had come into town to see the festival. We made our way back to my coach's house, where we met my other judo coach who insisted everyone go in together. My lovely judo family was happy to welcome all of my friends and we brought out drinks and food for everyone. I went to the kitchen to bring out the trays of food for my guests and as I brought them to the front room where everyone was sitting, my coach proudly exclaimed to everyone in his best English, "He is my daughter!!" It was such a heart-warming moment! A couple hours later the last of the straggling guests had gone home, so I jumped in the shower and then headed to sleep around 2 a.m.

Around 1 p.m. the following day we started the kiriko parading again! Everyone was in their houses getting dressed and ready to festival when we heard the leader's whistle signaling to everyone that it was time. Saturday was absolutely beautiful, it was an awesome sight to see the tall kirikos against the gorgeous blue sky! We heaved the kiriko around the neighborhood again and down the main street of Ushitsu. Anytime the kirikos stopped for a break, my coach had me climb onto the kiriko and play taiko for the crowds. Luckily, my taiko has improved incredibly so I was actually able to successfully play to the surprise and delight of many people around!

Around 5 we reached the afternoon's stopping point. So then my coach, his son and his fiance, his niece and myself started house hopping to visit all of their friend's dinner parties. It was lots of fun! In between dinner parties, we dropped by the wharf where the mikoshi were being "prepared."

First, they pulled the heavy mikoshi out of the sea where they had dumped it, hanging on by two ropes.

Bonfire ready? Check.

Ready? Heave!

All set up...

Into the fire with it!

Here's a video, so you can enjoy the "mikoshi prep" in action

Around 9 my coach and his two sons left to go prepare since they are part of the special team of men who smashed the mikoshi. The men who are on the mikoshi team are picked because of their passion for the festival and their ability to rage on it as they destroy the mikoshi for the night- and it is not an easy job so they certainly must need passion! About an hour later, the rest of us headed down to meet up with the procession and see the excitement. We got to the mikoshi team just as they were gathering for their opening prayer before starting the night's violence. After praying, the priest threw some salt around, and a large bottle of omiki was passed around which my coach brought to us as well, then the men hoisted up the mikoshi and took it out onto the street.

The men marched with it on their shoulders, chanting "Chosa, chosa, chosa..." in unison, spun in a circle, then stopped. At that point they would all heave and lift the mikoshi as high as they could then slam it to the ground! The mikoshi hit the road with a bang, and then bounced up at least three feet and the men had to jump out of the way to avoid injury if it flew their direction. Then the team would roll the mikoshi, jump on it, drag it in circles on the pavement, then right it and hoist it up to march it down the street about forty feet before starting the routine again! Every forty feet they would stop in a designated store front or house where an offering would be made and two huge bottles of sake were poured into the mikoshi, spilling out from the cracks as soon as they stepped back. Then they would beat on it again before going another forty feet down the road. This process was repeated all the way down the street, and continued down the main street of Ushitsu. No matter how long I watched, it never seemed repetitive or anything but exciting!

The kiriko lined up waiting for the mikoshi to join the procession

The mikoshi team kneeling for the initial prayer and ceremony

After a couple hours they got the mikoshi down to the river for the first of three main battering events. The men heaved the mikoshi onto the bridge, and then threw it down into the river! The men jumped in right after it and splashed around and beat the mikoshi against the cement river walls for about fifteen minutes before heaving the heavy mikoshi out of the river. They then lugged it to the house of I believe one of the priests for another offering. After that the team and those of us who came with them were given a swig of sake and hot mochi cakes.

My coach's wife has been watching this festival for years obviously since she grew up here, but also because her husband loves it and has been one of the "bosses" for years and both of her sons are part of the mikoshi team as well. She even says no matter how many years she watches it never gets boring! She knows the route by heart, so she took her son's fiancee and I along the whole time showing us the ropes. As soon as the mikoshi team finished with a destruction session she would grab our hands and lead us down the road at a sprint to beat the crowds to the next place where we would weasel into the prime places for a clear view of the show. 

The second destruction session was again in the river, but this time there was also a taimatsu, the twenty foot tall burning torches, raining fire down on the mikoshi and the men as they beat it. I watched with frequent gasps as huge chunks of burning material fell down on the backs of the men as they jumped on and lifted the mikoshi. The shower of sparks even blew down river toward us. It was intensely beautiful and at the same time completely unbelievable to witness the scene before us. The air was filled with a steady rain of sparks while the men sloshed around in the river doing their best to destroy the god's portable home. The whole time I watched with wide eyes and disbelief that it was real life! It was hilarious to watch my coach; it was so evident how much he loves the festival. He would be up on the mikoshi yelling with the rest of them, then take a step back and I could see the widest smile on his face!

This picture was taken by a friend, destruction round two- the river and fire! 

Off the three of us ran to the last mikoshi stop for the night, the shrine where the final offering would be made. Here in the yard there was already a bonfire burning, ready to receive the mikoshi when it arrived. We ran up to stand on the steps on the shrine so we had a clear vantage point of the bonfire and a quick strategy to get inside the shrine for the final offering. We waited for just a few minutes and then heard the mikoshi team approaching, their deep voices booming in unison, "Chosa, chosa, chosa!" 

They marched right into the yard and slammed the mikoshi into the bonfire, rolling it around and dragging it through the flames. Even when the mikoshi was right in the middle of the bonfire the men would still jump on it, often entering the flames themselves with no fear! After tearing the mikoshi up as best they could the finally marched it up the steps of the shrine and took it inside. the men kneeled down around for the priest to say the final offering. It was stunning to look at the backs of all these men, heads down, smears of mud, burns and cuts covering their bodies. The leader stood up to growl some words in a Japanese that surely only the old men could understand and with that everyone passed around Omiki again before leaving the shrine. 

With the mikoshi offering over all that was left was for the kiriko teams to process back to their respective neighborhoods. I however was still exhilarated and not ready for the festival to end. I took my time walking back with the kiriko parade stopping to talk to the people I knew along the way. The men from the mikoshi team were all so ecstatic! They were all smiles, full of relief and chattiness. Even though they were certainly exhausted they still had the energy to join their kiriko team for the final walk home. I caught up to my coach's neighborhood kiriko and helped to carry it the last block home. We turned the corner, the taiko started to beat rapidly and we took the last thirty feet at a sprint before setting the kiriko down at it's original place from Friday afternoon. With that, 2014 Abare Matsuri was over. So begins the 12 month countdown again, everyone waiting...