Awa Odori

The dancing fools
And the watching fools
Are foolish the same
So why not dance?

We headed to the train station and the local gaigin help centre in search of accommodation leads and information about what was actually going on. Accommodation was scarce and festival inflation had taken hold that weekend. However we found a place to stash stuff and take a nap before the evening’s revelling began.
Before heading out to the hotel, Dom and I loitered around the train station and central market place, the epicentre of the buzz in the air. Troupes of dancers were holding half hourly performances in front of a big department store, the sales assistants roping off the audience viewing space in hopes that people might still come and shop in the midst of this hullabaloo. Staking out a spot I noticed a lone artist, set up on the pavement below drawing caricatures of passers by with an army of permanent textas at his side, standing to attention, waiting to be called into action. A few funky Japanese were gathered around, waiting to be drawn, watching his drawing. I grabbed Dom and we headed down to get a closer look and eventually got drawn ourselves. Me with rosy pink cheeks and Dom with a little yellow bird in his nest of hair.
The dancing was of a precise nature, a slow exaggerated walk, knees pulled up high, feet splayed out at 90 degrees to each other. It must have been hell on the thigh muscles doing this for hours at a time. The hands and arms were moving in an almost Balinese style, thumb and forefinger pinched together with all the other fingers elegantly stretched outwards.
It was the clothing that caught my attention. There were a number of outfits on display but one of the most striking, and popular, was a woman’s costume that consisted of a yukatta, a summer style kimono, with Japanese style sandals, geta, that have a rectangular heel at both the front and back, so they resemble little bridges. I’ve been told that these were originally designed for climbing up mountains, enabling one to get a proper foothold. Tabi, white socks imitating mittens, with a separate toe for the big toe are worn inside. The headgear, for it cannot be truly called a hat, looked like a circular rattan mat that had been folded in half and tied under the chin with a ribbon. We watched for a while and then went off in search of the hotel for some kip before returning later, though we almost missed the festivities because my Japanese mistook the ending time for the starting time!
We headed out about 8:30 and wandered into a transformed city. The lanterns lining certain streets heralded the spots most populated with dancers, but all over the city troupes of dances weaved their way through the narrow streets. The dancing was accompanied by shamisen (three stringed guitars), taiko (drums) and fue (flutes). It seemed the musicians had a harder time of it than the dancers but everyone sported their most excitedly demure smiles and the air held an abundance of static energy. The done thing seemed to be to watch a procession of dancers for a while and then wander off in search of the next group, which wasn’t hard as the mingled chants could be heard blocks away.
The energy was infectious, all traces of sleepiness disappeared and I couldn’t keep still, at times jumping up and down on the spot as if I’d had jumping beans for dinner! Everyone wore smiles, everyone was super friendly, as if the Japanese are friendly anyway, and I half ran half jumped around with an idiotic grin spread around my head, attracting more smiles in return which just made the grin wider! Along the streets vendors sold drinks, snacks and tacky souvenirs by the armload. After I couldn’t stand still and watch any longer, we grabbed beers and headed off in search of the next procession. A festival spread over a city is a tricky thing. There’s that feeling of being in the middle of everything, but never quite centred. Narrower alleyways held more intimate displays of music and dance, wider streets threw energy around but provided little space to utilise it among the thronging crowds. Around 10 o’clock the formalites became less so and spectators joined in the dancing revelries. Gaigin were especially popular and we soon had offers left right and upside down to join various groups, eventually weaving from one to another. There was a feeling that it was going to end soon though, a desperate effort to cram in as much fun as possible in the time left pervaded the atmosphere. Vendors started packing up their wares and dancers sat down for the first time in three days and nursed sore feet.
At 11 o’ clock, police vans circled and politely asked everyone to go home. And everyone did. This is the most famous Awa Odori festival in the country, situated in the middle of one of Japans most important holiday weeks, and they shut it down just when it was starting to get interesting. This habit of the Japanese to have a precise starting and ending time for any social event will never stop blowing me away!
Dom and I headed in the direction of the nearest combini and grabbed some more beer to take to a park. We ended up wistfully gazing out onto the docks of the local marina, telling sea stories and planning to buy a boat in which to sail around the world. I believe plans were made in the meantime to rent a yacht out of Phuket next summer and go cruising around the Andamans for a week. If anyone’s interested, we’re looking for a couple of crew, no experienced required, just a strong interest in chilling out!