I was asked to give a speech at the danjiri dinner

Every fall, Japan has a special harvest festival tradition. It is called danjiri. These mini shrines on wheels are pulled and pushed through the streets, making a terrible amount of noise, to celebrate the end of the growing season and a bountiful harvest. While watching the danjiri is a truly exciting event, being part of your local danjiri festival is even better. Thanks to Otose, I was able to join this amazing event. I spent two days with a fantastic group of people. At the end, I was invited to a special dinner to celebrate the closing of the danjiri season and the group's tenth anniversary. As one of the first foreign participants, I was also asked to give a speech. I spent a lot of time thinking about what I wanted to say to these people who had been so kind to me. Here is what I came up with:

I think there are several things that help a foreigner feel more at home when they move to a new country. One is being able to speak the language. Another is having a shared culture or heritage. Obviously, I strike out in both of these. As you know, my Japanese is embarrassingly bad. Thank you for your kindness and patience with my childlike, grammatically incorrect attempts. As a language teacher I know it can be hard to understand a language learner sometimes. But thank you for encouraging me to improve and letting me practice. I am just so glad you are so much better at my language than I am at yours.

As for the shared culture and heritage, while that would make it easier to live here, the vast difference between Japanese and American, Eastern and Western culture, is one of the main reasons I moved here in the first place. I wanted to see the world through a completely new set of eyes. I have traveled and studied a lot. I am fascinated by people. But it was always within my own Western culture. It was always through the same set of eyes. Although people in Europe are quite different, they have many of the same morals, values, and philosophies. So no matter how far I traveled, I never got very far from home. But Japan was finally something new. Your traditions, religions, everything about your culture comes from a vastly different way of looking at the world. And luckily, I found a great group of people to help me navigate through Japanese culture. I know I have made many social mistakes, and will make many more, but as with language, you have been amazingly helpful, patient, and kind. You have made the task of understanding and embracing a different culture so easy and enjoyable. Spending time with you all has helped me better understand not just your culture, but my own as well. This was a major part of my decision to move here. So thank you!

There is a third thing, though, that can really help a foreigner adapt and thrive in a new country. It trumps both language and cultural barriers. That is a welcoming community. That is what I have found in Ikuno-ku. And what I have found with you. In all my travels, I have never met a group of people as accepting and kind as you. Even where I live in America it took me years to find the sense of community I have found in just two month, really two days, with you all. You have shared your food, your drink, your music, your religion, and most of all yourselves with me and I am truly grateful. You have helped me see past the lines between Japanese and American culture to those similarities that lie at the core of every human being. You helped me find the humanity I was looking for. Because while our differences make life interesting, it is the things we share that make us human. Spending time with you, I realized that while the food, language, and group members might be a little different, the feeling of friendship and community is the same. We even have a similar tradition of daring others to eat gross foods.

Spending time with you helped me realize that despite differences on the surface, many things are universal. There is something universal in the beat of a drum, the sound of a laugh, and the taste of food shared with friends. It is this universal core that I think is the most important thing to understand and appreciate. Because, in the end, it is the similarities that will bring the people of our world together. And it starts with inviting one lonely girl from America to be a part of your festival.

Even in my own language I cannot express how thankful I am for everything you have shared with me. I came to Japan expecting to experience many new things. But in just two months, I have done, seen, and been a part of more than I could ever have imagined. When I passed the danjiri posters and asked Otose about them, I only wanted to watch. But you allowed me to join you. It was an amazing experience that I will cherish forever. I learned so much being with you all. And I have enjoyed every second of it.

My time here could have turned out very differently. I don't speak the language. I don't always understand the culture or traditions. But I managed to find an amazing and accepting group of people that is excited to share these things with me. And I hope you continue to do so. There is still so much I want to do and learn. And I can't think of a better group of people to share my adventures with.

Now my speech would have to be translated since many of my new friends spoke little or no English. To that end, I had emailed it to the designated translator so that she could prepare herself. But on the day of the event, things did not work out as planned, and the translator wasn't able to make the dinner. Rather than rattle on and give the poor gentleman assigned as replacement translator a heart attack, I did some last minute revisions on a dinner napkin. So here is what I actually said:

Everyone, thank you. When I asked Otose about the danjiri, I only wanted to watch. I never expected to be asked to join. This has been an amazing experience. My best since coming to Japan.  I feel like I am part of a community. It makes me very happy. Even in English I cannot tell you how happy and thankful I am.

Not quite as elegant as my first attempt, but it got to the heart of what I wanted to say. I really could not thank these wonderful people enough for welcoming me and making me feel like I was (am) actually part of something. Many people will never feel as comfortable and accepted in their own country as I do in this foreign place. And it is all thanks to wonderful people like the ones I met in my neighborhood danjiri festival.

The sound of the drum

Japan has a long relationship with percussion instruments. Probably the most famous outside of Japan is taiko, but inside, at the traditional ceremonies and celebrations, you will realize there are many more drums and percussion instruments that make up traditional Japanese music. Taiko itself just means drum. The music associated with it is actually called kumi-daiko, or set of drums.

It was at one of these set of drums performances, as the pounding and thumping made its way from my ears to my chest to my soul that I realized something - every culture has drums. They are almost as old as civilization itself. From taiko to bodhran, to a collection of mom's pots and pans on the kitchen floor when you are only a year old, drums are integral to our lives. They stir us in was no other instrument can. With a single tone they can inspire us to bravery, speak our deepest sorrows, and lure our toes into tapping and our bodies to dancing. Drums are primal. Primitive. They set fire to our souls and take us back in time to when we were barely walking upright and the nights were dark and full of monsters. Drums are simple instruments, but they remind us of the first sound we ever heard - the beat of our mother's heart.

Drums are humanity's heartbeat.

In Japan, they party like it's 1999 every weekend

I have never been so tired. I don’t know how Japanese people do it. They get up the same time I do. They work later and go to bed long after I have already hit the hay. Yet somehow, come the weekend, they are ready to take part in one of the many, many festivals going on any given Saturday or Sunday. 

It is not like American cities are dead on Saturday or Sunday. You can usually find some sort of fair, show, or event going on most weekends in your larger metropolises. But it is nothing compared to the jam packed calendar for each city (and ward) in Japan. Regardless of your passion, there is some form of entertainment waiting for you each weekend: cultural, theatrical, religious, athletic, gastric, artistic, and alcoholic. Whether you are looking for a solo, couple, or family event, there is something for you. Check out your city's travel guide or website. Talk to the tourist information people (who are usually pretty good at English). Check out the posters at subway stations, bus stops, and on the trains. Or just wander around a neighborhood on the weekend listening for music, laughter, and fun. You are sure to find people who will welcome you.

Behind the mask - Halloween in Japan

Halloween in Japan is a completely different experience than Halloween in America. Experiencing it through the eyes of a different culture was interesting to say the least. At most, it was an experience I will never forget.

Since Halloween is my favorite holiday, I spent a whole month carefully crafting lessons that would excite and educate. I wanted my students to know about the holiday, but mostly I wanted them to have fun, since that is what Halloween is all about.

In Japan, Jack o' Lanterns and witches started appearing in restaurants and stores about the same time as they do in the states. So I was encouraged that Halloween wasn't completely foreign to my students. Aside from the very young, I was right. Some of these with more multicultural parents or with a strong interest in English had even attended costume parties or gone trick or treating. But overall the childhood Halloween traditions I grew up with were unknown to the majority of my students. They recognized the monsters and symbols, but not the activities or significance. But then again, I have as much, if not less understanding or their festivals.

So on Halloween day I pulled out all the stops. I came to school in full costume (well, I changed once I got to school actually). This year I went as Gintoki Sakata from the anime Gintama. It was a show (and manga) many of my students know well. Aside from the first grade, who did not recognize me or the character and had to be told, the costume was a huge hit with students and staff. As was my makeshift trick or treating during lunch. Because candy is not allowed, I had printed and cut out several hundred paper candies. Trick or treat rang through the halls as children ran up to me in masks we had colored earlier in the week. It was glorious.

And it only got better when darkness fell. I had made plans to meet friends and wander Namba in costumes. As I made my way to the subway station, I could not help swelling with happiness at the caped boy who zipped past me on his bike of the group of six school kids in masks waiting to cross the street. Still, these underage revelers were rare. In Japan, Halloween is a holiday for the twenty to thirty demographic. And they were really, really into it.

There were several things I noticed about Halloween costume culture in Japan. First, you must add bloody bandages and fake wounds to everything. You can't just be a flight attendant. You have to be a zombie flight attendant. SWAT team - no. Zombie SWAT team - yes. Sexy nurse?  Sexy zombie nurse. So many walking dead! 

Second, you can never have just one of something. At least, not usually. Everywhere we looked there were groups of witches, nurses, cats, Native American show girls, etc. In mixed gender groups, all the girls matched and all the boys matched. It was a new phenomenon for the four Americans snaking our way through the crowds. In America showing up in the same costume is embarrassing. Purposefully dressing alike is an unspoken taboo. I found the homogenous groups fascinating as an unconscious manifestation of one of the core differences between Japanese and American culture. In our foursome, there was me, Gintoki, a panda with a tie, Rilakkuma, and a fourth friend who dressed as himself.

The third and most astounding thing I noticed about Japanese Halloween revelers was the attention to detail put into each costume. Even store-bought getups were embellished with outstanding attention to detail. I saw makeup that would put any Hollywood makeup artist to shame. Famous characters walked through the crowds as if they had just stepped off the screen or page. The costumes were elaborate and extraordinary. It was a visual carnival. In fact, we had planned to spend a good portion of the night drinking. Instead we wandered back and forth along the crowded streets of Namba, Amemura, Denden Town, and Dotenbori. I was even asked to pose for pictures with several Gintama fans.

Experiencing Halloween in Japan was an enlightening experience. Without even meaning to, it highlighted some of the key differences between my culture and the one I am living in. But it also showed me how my culture and traditions are being incorporated into Japanese culture. In America, Halloween has long been a night for people to pretend to be someone or something else. It is a night of dreams and nightmares. For one night, we let down (or dye, or cover) our hair and indulge our secret sides. This is exactly what I found on the streets of Namba. For one night, some of Japan took off the mask of decorum and embraced their rebellious, scantily clad, unique personalities.

Also, they love pumpkin.  Pumpkin everything!