FoxHound87: Hadaka Matsuri
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Joshua Small is a First Year JET currently living in Ikaruga-cho, Nara-ken and has been chronicling his experience on his blog Snorlax87.
Most people haven’t noticed, but I’ve been training ever since I arrived in Japan. Not physical training, mind you, but social training. Being a gaijin (foreigner) in Japan is sometimes like having two heads. Adults stare you in confusion. Children hide behind their parents. Students are oddly fascinated. All this “standing out” has given me this incredible layer of social apathy. I am no longer fazed when people stare. I no longer die a little inside when children run from me. I relish the times when people don’t sit next to me on the train, even when the train is CRAMMED with people. All this “training” has prepared me for what happened on February 19th, the Hadaka Matsuri (better known as the Naked Man Festival).
The Hadaka Matsuri is a fertility festival held all across Japan, but the largest one is in Ookayama Prefecture. When I say largest, I mean it. There are 9,000 participants, all male. Allow me to tell you a tale of manliness, testosterone, and true grit.
The Ookayama AJET chartered a bus for all the visiting JETs from across Japan. There were probably about 30 of us in all. On the bus, the Ookayama AJET president gave us the lowdown on what to expect at the festival. The main event didn’t start until 10, so they suggested that we “suit up” around 8:30. We had arrived at 6:30 so we had plenty of time to kill. That is, until one Nara JET suggested that we “suit up” now. Screw the whole 8:30 thing. Ok, I’m game. Let’s do it.
I bought my fundoshi (sumo diaper) and running slippers and went into the changing tent with 4 other Nara JETs. I had to fill out a personal form including name, address, and blood type (in case I get injured). That was….unnerving. There were some old men waiting for us in the tent. They were volunteer fundoshi wrappers. I got naked and let the old man have his way with me. He gave me the biggest wedgie of my life. He slapped my belly as he commanded I spin so the fundoshi wrapped tightly. High school bullies could learn a thing or two from this man. I heard that in other tents, there were also old ladies doing the fundoshi wrapping.
There we stood. 4 proud men, buttocks out, ready for the weirdest festival of our lives. By the way, it was cold…ahem. In this festival, groups of men (similarly dressed) run around the temple grounds in Saidaiji shouting “Washoi!” “Washoi” is a mantra meant to heat up the body. Remember, it’s f*cking cold. We waited for a group of men to come running by so we could join their ranks. We were so excited that we jumped into the first group that ran by. BIG mistake.
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http://snorlax87.blogspot.com/
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