New Year's In Japan
New Year's is a magical time when cold weather turns to cloudy, windy, cold weather. Turns to raining, windy, cold weather. Turns to momentarily snowing, cold weather. Turns to freezing slush ice cold weather. Turns to pneumonia causing hypothermia inducing embodiment of wet and cold from the skies above--weather.
Waking up extremely late, I was faced with a decision: leave the warmth of my blanket to see what Japanese New Year's Day is all about, or stay inside the blanket, possibly migrating to the heated table, and play Ninja Turtles Arcade on MAME all day. Unfortunately, I chose the former.
With some reservation, though. I mean, after beating Ninja Turtles, what else can you do but face the world. With a walnut something or other bread thing and peanuts with something salty and crunchy and orange in my stomach, I layered the clothing on. Midway through the layering, I remembered that I still needed to shower. Delayer-shower-relayer.
It wasn't raining when I left, otherwise I would have brought along an umbrella. The news didn't say anything about rain either. The most accurate weather forecast is old women on the street. If you see them with umbrellas, you know it will rain. I was very observant during the walk to the station. If I saw one person with an umbrella, old lady or not, I would turn around and get mine.
No one was carrying one.
A short trip later I was at Atsuta Shrine, renowned for having the imperial sword, which no one is allowed to see. I hadn't gone with the intention of being the first foreigner to defile the sword by looking at it, but had packed my camera just incase.
Packing my camera is no easy task, either. As a masochist, I always have to make everything difficult. A simple point and shoot digital camera? Not for me. No no, I need a chunk of plastic and glass that ruins expensive 120 format film. That I have to tape up after loading, to make sure light doesn't get in. I like excuses to complain.
I follow the torrent of elderly and families to the shrine. We pass by some colorful stands selling festival foods, and I think to myself "I like the colors of the stands; I'll be sure to take some pictures on the way back."
We file into the shrine, where I'm greeted by clucking overhead. A chicken has flown(?) high into a tree, and everyone is flipping out. Pictures are being taken, police are standing nearby to make sure no one throws anything at it. It seems that it is one of the shrine chickens, but I didn't realize chickens could fly. Ofcourse my chicken-related experience has been limited to culinary and Zelda escapades. If playing video games all my childhood is any indication, you can grab on to the feet of a chicken and flutter down. But never up. Also, beware of hitting a chicken too many times with your sword. Maybe flying chickens are exactly what makes them special and why they are kept in the shrine.
The stream of elderly flows past the perched chicken and through the gates to the shrine. With soo many people, they only allow groups in waves to approach the shrine to toss their 5 yen pieces, pray, and then buy fortunes. While standing in a chest-high sea of gray hair, it begins to drizzle. Out of nowhere, every old lady has an umbrella. It's during this debate of where on their bodies they must hide umbrellas that we are allowed to approach the shrine. It's also during this time that the weather gods decide to spite me for not bringing an umbrella. I had saved several 5 yen pieces to toss into the shrine, as part of the custom, but as the rain steadily became heavier, and colder, I decided that Amaterasu really probably didn't need an extra 20 cents. Especially since as the sun goddess, she wasn't even making an appearance to warm me.
So that was New Year's in Japan. A shuffle back to the station in the cold and a short walk to Denny's for dinner.
Waking up extremely late, I was faced with a decision: leave the warmth of my blanket to see what Japanese New Year's Day is all about, or stay inside the blanket, possibly migrating to the heated table, and play Ninja Turtles Arcade on MAME all day. Unfortunately, I chose the former.
With some reservation, though. I mean, after beating Ninja Turtles, what else can you do but face the world. With a walnut something or other bread thing and peanuts with something salty and crunchy and orange in my stomach, I layered the clothing on. Midway through the layering, I remembered that I still needed to shower. Delayer-shower-relayer.
It wasn't raining when I left, otherwise I would have brought along an umbrella. The news didn't say anything about rain either. The most accurate weather forecast is old women on the street. If you see them with umbrellas, you know it will rain. I was very observant during the walk to the station. If I saw one person with an umbrella, old lady or not, I would turn around and get mine.
No one was carrying one.
A short trip later I was at Atsuta Shrine, renowned for having the imperial sword, which no one is allowed to see. I hadn't gone with the intention of being the first foreigner to defile the sword by looking at it, but had packed my camera just incase.
Packing my camera is no easy task, either. As a masochist, I always have to make everything difficult. A simple point and shoot digital camera? Not for me. No no, I need a chunk of plastic and glass that ruins expensive 120 format film. That I have to tape up after loading, to make sure light doesn't get in. I like excuses to complain.
I follow the torrent of elderly and families to the shrine. We pass by some colorful stands selling festival foods, and I think to myself "I like the colors of the stands; I'll be sure to take some pictures on the way back."
We file into the shrine, where I'm greeted by clucking overhead. A chicken has flown(?) high into a tree, and everyone is flipping out. Pictures are being taken, police are standing nearby to make sure no one throws anything at it. It seems that it is one of the shrine chickens, but I didn't realize chickens could fly. Ofcourse my chicken-related experience has been limited to culinary and Zelda escapades. If playing video games all my childhood is any indication, you can grab on to the feet of a chicken and flutter down. But never up. Also, beware of hitting a chicken too many times with your sword. Maybe flying chickens are exactly what makes them special and why they are kept in the shrine.
The stream of elderly flows past the perched chicken and through the gates to the shrine. With soo many people, they only allow groups in waves to approach the shrine to toss their 5 yen pieces, pray, and then buy fortunes. While standing in a chest-high sea of gray hair, it begins to drizzle. Out of nowhere, every old lady has an umbrella. It's during this debate of where on their bodies they must hide umbrellas that we are allowed to approach the shrine. It's also during this time that the weather gods decide to spite me for not bringing an umbrella. I had saved several 5 yen pieces to toss into the shrine, as part of the custom, but as the rain steadily became heavier, and colder, I decided that Amaterasu really probably didn't need an extra 20 cents. Especially since as the sun goddess, she wasn't even making an appearance to warm me.
So that was New Year's in Japan. A shuffle back to the station in the cold and a short walk to Denny's for dinner.