Sweating the summer festival season

It’s that time of year again, here in Japan: as I mentioned a few weeks before, the month of June is the rainy season… but once that ends, comes the Japanese summer. And, just as I mentioned then, I have gone from trying to get my clothes dry in the face of nonstop rain, to trying to keep myself from resembling a gigantic fountain of sweat. To say that I find this unpleasant simply does injustice to the more-or-less constant moist feeling that is currently driving me up the wall. And then there’s the heat itself.

Maybe I’m biased, since I grew up in a temperate zone with the further moderating influence of the Saint Lawrence River, but summer in Japan can be really, excruciatingly, HOT. It’s not so bad in places farther north, like Hokkaido, but Osaka is one of the hottest places in Japan… and I’m in it. The heat is made worse by the everyday fact of 100% humidity, which ensures that sweat does not evaporate and people look not so much like human beings, but melting popsicles that somehow manage not to shrink as they do so. This is my first summer in Japan, so the experience of this level of torment is brand new to me… and I’m coming to terms with the sinking realization that I’ll be dealing with it again next year as well if I choose to stay on. That’s quite the sobering thought.

In spite of this, I am also in good spirits, because July in particular (less so August) is the month when all the big summer festivals are held. These are hard to describe in full without actually being there. Japanese festivals as a whole are generally centered around religious practices at a Shinto shrine or Buddhist temple, but religion in Japan being what it is (Shinto, Buddhism, and Christianity aren’t so much separate entities here as they are one big, amorphous mass that people freely engage in as appropriate to the occasion), the atmosphere is not so much solemn contemplation as it is an excuse to have a carnival party. I am not in any way opposed to this, mind you.

The first prerequisite to a proper Japanese festival is to festoon the area with paper lanterns. There’s probably a very good reason for this that dates back at least a few centuries, but as far as I’m concerned, they look cool. The second is the food: Japanese festival food is usually quite varied, but you’ll usually find some manner of meat-on-a-stick, fried potatoes, fried chicken, corn-on-a-stick, candied banana-on-a-stick, candy apples, noodles-on-a-stick, taiyaki (waffle-y things filled with sweet stuff and shaped like a fish), shaved ice, ice cream, and pretty much any other kind of Japanese food that’s capable of being carried with a single hand. I have sampled pretty much all of these things (not all at once), and can confirm that they are every bit as satisfying (and indigestion-inducing) as Fair food back home. And as with Fair food, you have to buy some of it; it’s just part of the experience.

The third necessity is carnival games. These are generally not too different from their Western counterparts, other than that they tend to be much simpler and less mechanized. Nevertheless, they are every bit as fiendishly difficult, and probably rigged in some way. (One of the popular expressions for them is kodomo-damashi, or “cheating the kids”. At least they’re honest, here.) Perhaps the most time-honored activity is the goldfish-scooping game: you get a “net” made of thin paper, and have to try and get a goldfish from the tank without it ripping. I have judged this to be nigh on impossible. Another is the kujibiki, or “lot drawing”, where you pull on a rope that is hypothetically attached to a prize, or more commonly, to a worthless trinket. I’ve heard tell that the really good prizes aren’t actually connected to any of the ropes you can pull, and in my experience that’s probably true. I really should stop wasting my money on these things…

But perhaps the most important part of a Japanese festival is the traditional clothing. Most of the time, people in Japan walk around in regular Western clothing, same as most places in the industrialized world. Kimonos are a rare sight indeed, and unless the wearer frequently engages in a culturally-significant activity that requires one, he or she will likely rent for the one or two special occasions per year that require it (much the same as formalwear in the US). This is hardly surprising, since a properly made silk men’s kimono with all its accoutrements can cost well over $1000, and women’s models several times that much. Even the cheaper variants would set you back more than a discount suit. But summer festivals are special because people get to break out their yukata.

Written with characters that give it the meaning “bathrobe”, the yukata is a lightweight, usually cotton kimono that’s especially appropriate for the summer months. Being comfortable, relatively inexpensive and easy to come by, they make popular attire for the occasion of a summer festival, paired with wooden clog sandals called geta. Seeing people dressed that way really makes me want to do likewise, but sadly, I don’t have one. This is something I will have to correct, once I can scrounge up enough pocket money.

Of course, I’ve really only scratched the surface here, which seems to be a recurring theme in these columns. I apologize for that, but it’s really something you have to experience firsthand to get in full. Festivals happen in every season, and each one has its own particular character (though they’re all relentlessly upbeat). So I consider myself lucky that I have one festival down in my area for this month, and two to go…