They're coming faster than I can tell them

Some things are just going to have to get lost in the mix, sadly. I have too much going on. The great satsuma-sendai tug of war may just have to be one of them. I'll write up something short, but I'm beat. Spent all day underwater, and continued to prove that as long as it isn't talking within sight of the incredibly pretty doctor/gangster's girlfriend/(fingers crossed!) daughter (Edit: turns out they're married. Problems solved!), there isn't anything I'm not instantly awesome at.

There was something oddly epic about 3000 men coming together to get excessively drunk, and engage in a godzilla sized version of a child sized game. But here's the truth of it: all said and done, basically all Japanese festivals are the same. 1) a gathering is called. 2) drink is imbibed. 3) something is venerated. Now in this case it was a giant rope, but it could just have easily been a raccoon, an ice castle, or a giant stone penis. Yes, these are all real festivals. 4) competition is often then involved. Like tugging said rope, hunting said raccoon, building said ice castle for judging, or ramming one another with said giant stone penis. 5) everyone gives up and drinks more.

Grats, you've now good as been to 90% of Japanese festivals.

But here's some photos anyway:


From top left:

1) The rope before the festival, they spend the day before making this rope. It is about as big around as a Japanese dude's torso, and it went from one end of the main-street to the other. So...it weighs lots.

2) Everyone was snapping photos of themselves on the rope, and the kids were climbing all over it. It was actually one of the coolest parts of the event. You got a real sense of the community coming together for this incredibly ridiculous, time honored ritual.

3) We were entertained by a number of groups, ranging from the traditional and very serious Taiko drumming troupe, to the guy who basically seemed to be air-drumming (in a traditional and very serious way), and finally to the oh-my-gosh-dorable kindergartners hammering away, producing something resembling the drumming which came before, minus rhythm, plus cuteness.

4) I go to Japanese festivals for the food, just so we're clear. But it was a cool photo of the kid who accidentally jumped in front of the lens. He was dressed in miniature like all the men in the festival, and I wondered if his dad or brother or both were out there in that shochu-fueled brawl.

5) Some of the men spent the whole event riding on the shoulders of others, waving flags. They were usually fairly bad-ass individuals, with their fair share of tattoos. Also featured, center-right, is the giant plastic bottle filled with 50-60 proof Japanese Shochu. Mmmmmm! At first we thought it might actually be water, because they kept dumping it over their head much as one would a large, refreshing bottle of water. But the announcer kept calling it "strength water", so...

6) Seconds before the mayhem started. A lot of intensity. Once the drums started pounding we pretty much lost sight of the rope. The groups up at the front don't even pretend to touch the rope, they just go push each other. People assured me that this was "strategy" but I've been to enough punk shows to know a mosh pit when I see one.

All in all, a wonderful end to a much needed vacation.

Now to start writing about Kikai again. It has not disappointed dear readers. No it has not. Everyone is a surprise waiting to happen. You walk in to get your flat tire changed, and end up watching the owner of the bike shop hop around his garage on the back wheel of his homemade trail bike. But the stories will have to wait. I need to get some sleep. I finish my dive skills training tomorrow.