Where's the party?

Most of Sunday was spent on yet another find-the-temple adventure. I'd wanted to see the Yasurai Matsuri at Imamiya Jinja: it's a rather unique festival during which people dress up as red and black-haired demons and dance. Sarah, I-House's only Aussie, came with, but we got off to a bit of a late start. We did manage to successfully utilize public transportation, thanks to some kind passersby and Sarah's superior Japanese, but when we arrived in the afternoon they were already cleaning up.

Imamiya Jinja is surprisingly pretty, considering its location: surrounded by residential areas and almost across the street from a fenced-in school field. But then, most of the woods (or whatever the immediate natural area might be) surrounding shrines and temples have been preserved and well-maintained. I was a bit disappointed that I missed the dance, but it was a nice visit all the same. I got my first shrine stamp in my nokyo-cho. (That makes nine stamps: Touji, Kotoin, Kinkakuji, Fudodo, Ryoanji, Shokudo, Enryakuji, Chorakuji, and now, Imamiya Jinja.)

I also bought an ema. I felt a little silly when the miko-san asked me if I wanted her to write something on it, because I just wanted it as a omiyage--for the artwork in fact. The design on the front is a beautiful depiction of the dance I'd wanted to see. The kanji for ema (絵馬）comprises the kanji for "picture" and "horse." In ancient times, people used to donate horses to Shinto shrines. Eventually people just started donating representations of horses like statues, and then simply pictures of horses on small plaques. Nowadays, ema have all kinds of pictures on them, and people write their prayers or wishes on the blank side and hang them on a kind of rack at the shrine.

Ema, as well as omamori andofuda, are also very creative ways the shrines make money. There are lots of opportunities to develop new designs and new kinds of charms now. Some of the omamori require no translation at all: many of those for safety while traveling have the outline of a plane embroidered on them.

 These little slips of paper are called omikuji--peoples' fortunes are written on them

After hanging around the shrine and taking in its beauty, we wandered down the small street outside the side entrance. On either side of the street were open-sided restaurants serving tea and some sort of intriguing snack. I'm still not entirely sure what it was, but after some consideration, Sarah and I sat down and partook. They were very doughy balls of something on a stick dipped in some kind of sticky, peanutty tasting sauce. The woman in that photo dressed in white came up and took pictures of us a little after we'd started eating. We tried to catch what she was saying when she was taking the picture, but I didn't understand it; Sarah thinks she said something along the lines of "Bear with me, please." Then she returned about five minutes later, around the time we were getting ready to leave, and gave us a couple of rice cracker-like snacks with wasabi flavoring--very delicious.

Strangers are often very kind here. I'm sure sometimes it's just giddiness and meeting a foreigner, but if you ask anyone for directions here when you're lost (or almost lost), you're almost guaranteed an answer. Whether they can say it in English is another matter, but even if they can't speak it they can usually point out directions on a map or direct you to one. I've had several people go out of their way to actually escort me when I ask for directions (which can be a little embarrassing sometimes.) I'm not entirely sure, but I think this woman might have been the manager or owner of the little joint we'd stopped in. In any case, she was clearly happy that some foreigners had decided to be adventurous and try an unknown Japanese food.

One evening when I was waiting in Vivre, an older gentleman with a cane and fedora came up to me and talked to me a little in English for a couple of minutes. He asked me how I was doing, where I was from, if I lived here, when I came to Japan, where I studied, if I liked Japan...I answered him in Japanese mostly, which made me happy. Then he smiled and told me to enjoy my time here and went his way. He seemed pleased--and he should have been. His English was still very good. It's very adorable when a random Japanese person sees a foreigner and decides to try out their English, or what-have-you. Sometimes they're very excited and shy or embarrassed at the same time, like they're pulling a dare or something. I remember another instance of this, when one of the club members who was handing out flyers on campus ran after me a little, handed me one, and said "Music Writing Club!" really excitedly. I was in a hurry, but it made me smile. He probably ran back to his friends and was like "I talked to that foreigner!"