The Temple at Saidiji where boys become men.
2/21/05
Male Bondage
So, I went to view my prefecture's most famous festival, the Hadaka Matsuri or Naked Man. On a cold night in February each year, thousands of men flock to the temple to don nothing but a sumo-like diaper arrangement (and this is no ordinary diaper, it is ten feet of white cloth twisted into what has been described as the ATOMIC wedgie, a wedgie so powerful you can taste), run several times through a chest deep 'cleansing lake,' consume enough sake to make the whole affair seem somewhat sane, and then fight over a large stick dropped into the crowd by a priest to win a year of good luck.
Several JET English teachers from other prefectures came in for the event, and we all took three buses to the temple grounds. One bus was filled with a bunch of guys who actually running to try to win the stick for the foreign community, but there was no way the Japanese yakuza (mob) was going to let that happen.
It was a flesh colored sea punctuated by black dots of hair with countless arms and legs undulating like tentacles. An eerie mist of steam rose above the mass along with the noises of drunken effort and struggle. If you were watching closely, the lines of men parading in groups seemed to pass by three times before they ended up dissolving into the sea. Rinse and repeat this image for an hour until your mental picture is filled to the brim with these naked men. Cry out as large waves of men fall down the steep stairs of the temple. Think, 'That must have hurt' after the tenth times, then you'll get used to it. Finally the lights go out and large sticks are being dropped into the mass, but you can't see them. For the rest of the ceremony, you will never see the stick, this is disappointing and unsatisfying to you. For the most part, it is anti-climatic because the mass post-stick doesn't look much different to the mass pre-stick. And it isn't until you leave the temple and see grown men wandering the streets in diapers, alone and cold that the metaphor of a womb for the mass comes to mind, that all these men were inside something wet, warm, possibly very gooey, and they are now ejected back out into the cold hard world with nothing but a soggy diaper, some colorful bruises, and an empty hand where a triumphant stick should have been.
Several JET English teachers from other prefectures came in for the event, and we all took three buses to the temple grounds. One bus was filled with a bunch of guys who actually running to try to win the stick for the foreign community, but there was no way the Japanese yakuza (mob) was going to let that happen.
It was a flesh colored sea punctuated by black dots of hair with countless arms and legs undulating like tentacles. An eerie mist of steam rose above the mass along with the noises of drunken effort and struggle. If you were watching closely, the lines of men parading in groups seemed to pass by three times before they ended up dissolving into the sea. Rinse and repeat this image for an hour until your mental picture is filled to the brim with these naked men. Cry out as large waves of men fall down the steep stairs of the temple. Think, 'That must have hurt' after the tenth times, then you'll get used to it. Finally the lights go out and large sticks are being dropped into the mass, but you can't see them. For the rest of the ceremony, you will never see the stick, this is disappointing and unsatisfying to you. For the most part, it is anti-climatic because the mass post-stick doesn't look much different to the mass pre-stick. And it isn't until you leave the temple and see grown men wandering the streets in diapers, alone and cold that the metaphor of a womb for the mass comes to mind, that all these men were inside something wet, warm, possibly very gooey, and they are now ejected back out into the cold hard world with nothing but a soggy diaper, some colorful bruises, and an empty hand where a triumphant stick should have been.
Throngs of Thongs
Part of the steamy mass of bodies in pursuit of the precious stick or in Japanese the 'shingi' which rhythms with 'thingy' which somehow seems appropriate. I'm sure there were lots of thingy sightings in the crowd.
Devil Inside
Some close up action of the naked men. These boys are freshly diapered and ready to hit the temple. On the right is Philip who has some stunning bruises to show for his fall down the temple steps, and the left is Jaco from South Africa. Claire loaned me the devilish hat which didn't seem to offend the Buddhists...
2/9/05
Temporarily Grounded
As much as I'm sure everyone is dying to know what winter in Japan is like, I just can't bring myself to 'talk about the weather' on this, what is supposed to colorful and exciting documentation of my life. I would be lying though, to say everything is exciting right now, I have gone into more of a hybernation here then ever before, namely because of the lack of central heating in my apartment. I have a few space heaters, but they are really only good for heating one room, so there I stay fortified with English movies and the occasional torture of Japanese TV.*
*Japanese TV comes with 8 basic channels, at any one time at least four of these channels will be airing a show about food, any show about food will consist of a woman dining in a restaurant by herself, there will be a tight close up of a quivering piece of glossy gelatinous food pinched between chopsticks, then the enormous bite will disappear into her mouth, 2 seconds later she will exclaim in estactic delight, "OOOOOOOIISSSSHHHHI!" (Japanese for delicious), she will chew some more, and repeat the cry again. At first I was fascinated and sat through several of these programs back to back, now I can't bear to watch and wish the Japanese could consider varying the word for, tastes good. There is 'UMAI' but only men are supposed to use it, and as I said, these shows only involve women...
A big night out is to the supermarket, which has also become slightly torturous due to SUPERMARKET MUSIC, canned slightly electronic, slightly elevator, wordless covers of some of the worst English songs ever made, "Welcome to The Jungle," anything by the Carpenters, one store only plays a pop version of the Rocky theme song, over and over and over.
Please feel free to donate English materials to my mountain top....
*Japanese TV comes with 8 basic channels, at any one time at least four of these channels will be airing a show about food, any show about food will consist of a woman dining in a restaurant by herself, there will be a tight close up of a quivering piece of glossy gelatinous food pinched between chopsticks, then the enormous bite will disappear into her mouth, 2 seconds later she will exclaim in estactic delight, "OOOOOOOIISSSSHHHHI!" (Japanese for delicious), she will chew some more, and repeat the cry again. At first I was fascinated and sat through several of these programs back to back, now I can't bear to watch and wish the Japanese could consider varying the word for, tastes good. There is 'UMAI' but only men are supposed to use it, and as I said, these shows only involve women...
A big night out is to the supermarket, which has also become slightly torturous due to SUPERMARKET MUSIC, canned slightly electronic, slightly elevator, wordless covers of some of the worst English songs ever made, "Welcome to The Jungle," anything by the Carpenters, one store only plays a pop version of the Rocky theme song, over and over and over.
Please feel free to donate English materials to my mountain top....
Moonviewing Party
The true Japan Moneyshot, a bunch of foriegners in traditional garb! This was taken way back in October during a Moonviewing party in which people partake of rice cakes and gaze longingly at the full moon. So thats me on the far left, next is Susan from Canada who, in the middle in green is Hanna, the superwoman who has helped me out of more jams in here than anyone else, and below her is her granddaughter in pink, then Sarah from England, but really, after a misspelling of her name on offical documents as Saram, we just call her Sadam, and finally Rachel, from New Zealand who lives in the town closest to me. Apparently the kimono I'm wearing cost $3,000!
Little Sumo Studs
These four year olds are ready to face off in a do or die sumo match, winner goes on to face me. Sometimes I cheat and just pick them up and throw them outside the circle and marvel at my triumph. I will to a real sumo tournament in March, so those will be the photos to look out for!
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