Turning Japanese . . .

You know you live in Japan when the answer to “what did you do on the weekend?” is “On Saturday, some friends and I went to pachinko and karaoke, and on Sunday I drank too much sake and went to watch the Kagura at a local matsuri.” In other words, it was a fun, and distinctly Japanese kind of weekend.

For the uninitiated:

Pachinko:
Sort of like pinball, except you have no control over the outcome of the game. You just feed money into the machine, and watch the balls fall, rarely into the spot you would like them to go. It was the first time I had ever been, though I have been intrigued by the intense noise and lights for a year now. Even Gotsu, as small as it is, has multiple pachinko parlors, which are lit up so brightly at night that they obliterate the stars. It’s a popular pastime for Japanese salary-men, who apparently find it relaxing to go and sit in a deafeningly loud, cigarette-smoke filled room full of strangers, and watch all of their money be converted into little shiny metal balls and be lost forever in a garish arcade game. I knew damn well that whatever money went into my machine was never coming back, so I set myself a limit, wasn’t remotely surprised when I didn’t win, and was content to leave after 15 minutes when everyone else gave up too. I’m glad I’ve tried it and know what people are talking about now, but I’m in no danger of getting hooked. The noise gave me a headache, the smoke made my hair stink, and I might as well have thrown my money into the ocean. I think I’d rather waste my money on candy.

Karaoke:
While many Canadian bars may have a karaoke night every once in a while, they’ve got NOTHING on the karaoke places here. Usually, your group gets a fully furnished, soundproof/airtight private room for an hourly fee. I’m definitely not a singer, but hanging out with friends in a room full of comfy couches and a big TV is infinitely better than being humiliated in front of a whole pub full of strangers.

Sake:
Japanese rice wine. Tastes like rubbing alcohol smells. I’m not a fan, but I must admit, it has its perks, especially when the sake is hot and the weather is cold. It burns all the way down, warms you from the inside, and makes the world seem more pleasant, kinda like the laughing gas my dentist uses.

Kagura:
Traditional Japanese dancing. The costumes are amazing and must weigh a ton, as they’re so elaborate and have so many layers. The masks are scary as hell though, and young children often scream and run when they see them. The dancers sing and act out stories, accompanied by traditional instruments like taiko and wooden flutes. The matsuri (festivals) that are happening this month all feature kagura that runs from about 9pm to 6am the next day. The festivities move from neighbourhood to neighbourhood each week, and miles and miles of string with white paper zig-zag streamers are put up to mark the blocks that are involved. For me, the best part is seeing the shrines all opened up and full of lanterns, noise and people. Usually the shrines are closed up and the grounds are deserted, which always makes me feel like I’m trespassing somewhere sacred and creepy.

There’s always a price to pay for this much fun. Monday morning found me exhausted and battling both a cold and a slight hangover, but it was all worth it. I’d do it all again, although next time I’d probably spend my pachinko money on booze and a plastic samurai sword at the festival.

DISCLAIMER

I can’t believe I’m blogging. Back home, I always scorned bloggers, and the narcissism that led them to believe that anyone wanted to read about their trip to the grocery store and other mundane daily events. Now I find myself propelled by a force even more powerful than narcissism, LAZINESS. I have lived in Japan for a year, and sent way fewer e-mails than I should have in that time. So now, if anyone finds themselves wondering what I’m up to, they can check at their own leisure.
Okay then, if you’re still reading, welcome to Gotsu-Shi, Shimane-Ken, Japan.