pyromania

the dosojin fire festival has quite the reputation and after checking it out online, i was convinced i had to witness this yearly madness for myself…even though it was on a school night. back on January 15 the girls and i headed to nozawa onsen, a small mountain town about an hour from here that is famous for it’s natural spas. it promised to be bitter cold so i layered on the clothes until i could barely lower my arms and bend my knees, like that kid in ‘a christmas story.’ the place was looking calm and normal when we arrived, but that wouldn’t last long. we were a bit bummed as we made our way to the grounds cause there were no typical festival food vendors and no one hawking beer or sake [the horror]. we wobbled our way up a slippery slope and some stairs carved out of the snow to discover a large, handmade wooden shrine; the event’s centerpiece.

the second story was covered in 42-year-old men, perched everywhere, precariously dangling their feet and cheering. the base was guarded by a lively crowd of 25-year-old males engaged in the typical camaraderie behavior of back and ass slapping. as they took turns stepping out to face the wooden construction, giving speeches and spilling sake out of huge bottles all over themselves, i came to understand this festival is inextricably linked to the rice wine born of the harvests this event is supposed to bolster. the festival, which dates back to 1863, is also held to “pray for sound health, happy marriage, and protection against evil.”
it was about this time we encountered the first of the crazy men baring sake. they had huge bottles of the wine tied around their necks with twine ropes, another of which was connected to a large bamboo cup.

i later decided this was probably to prevent them from misplacing their goods while in a heavily intoxicated state. these men’s sole purpose all night is to keep the onlookers well lubricated. this first fella was an absolute riot; he’d clearly been sampling his own wares.

the atmosphere became increasingly electric as the official start of the festival neared.

i’ve amended and paraphrased the following from a guide written by someone who knows a lot more about the festival than me:
“An old belief in Japan dictates that, for men, 25 and 42 are unlucky ages. Local men of these ages construct the shaden (shrine) from beech wood that reaches a height of 18 meters. Every year it takes 100 villagers to build the shrine. The trees are cut down in October and brought down from the mountain, through the village, on January 13th. After the shaden has been constructed, the priest from Kosuge shrine performs a ceremony to endow it with a God. Along with the shaden there are an average of five tôrô (dedicatory lantern poles) erected every year.
These poles are made by a family in the village to celebrate the birth of the first son. The tôrô are offered to the Gods in a prayer for health and good fortune. The festivities begin with the lighting of the fire by the 25 and 42 year old men. A small group carries a torch, which is lit by striking two stones together, from the Kôno residence to the festival grounds. The torch is used to start a bonfire from which handmade torches, that will be used to attack the shrine, are lit.”

the bonfire burst to life in the back of the grounds. The crowd of onlookers was split down the middle forming a path from the blaze to the shrine. 41 and 43 year old men are charged with guarding the lane. at first the youngsters of the town, all boys, crawl or are carried or wobble over to light torches from the bonfire. they mildly attempt to set the towering shrine afire in an act more symbolic than threatening. quickly other male villagers started gathering around the bonfire with their torches.

the crowd started to rumble and chant. the energy and aggression became unnervingly obvious.

it wasn’t until this moment that i realized the intensity and danger of the event.

as i stood there watching a jacked up, seemingly angry mob with torches march towards the shrine i couldn’t help but imagine the fear that KKK rallies/cross burnings struck in the souls of those who witnessed the horrible spectacles.

honestly, the KKK was all i could think of briefly. then my mind turned to how this event would never be allowed to go down like this in America…there’d be police and fire trucks and ambulances with flashing lights drowning out those of the bonfire.

although this event is reportedly a fun occasion, make no mistake about the dangerous and lively battle that followed. Torch wielding villagers of all ages repeatedly charge the shrine and attempt to break through the guards and catch the wooden structure on fire.

The 25 year olds defending the shrine try to put out the flames with pine branches. The heat is intense, the noise is booming, the atmosphere is electric, the fire is everywhere. the defenders are bloody and ashen, the attackers are also burnt and sooty.

embers from the torches dance in the air everywhere; i had to be patted out multiple times.

the sake men brave the torch toting mob to crisscross the path and offer spilling cups of nihon shu to cheering onlookers.
in the madness i completely lost liz and carrie. i hooked up with a rather gung ho fella and an older couple in the crowd; we shared alcohol, stories and kept an eye on each others hair for smoke.

The young fella elbowed his way right up to the rope lining the pathway and took me with him.

the view was insane and earnestly scary at times.

This passionate attack lasts for about an hour, with the villagers charging the shrine in wave after wave. I couldn’t tell if the attackers had succeeded or if they eventually intentionally let the shrine blaze. All the 42 year olds on the top level climbed to safety down the rear of the shrine while the façade burnt fiercely. other wooden features of the festival were tossed on the bonfire as onlookers milled about drinking, chatting and enjoying the warmth radiating from the inferno.

we ran into a bunch of friends from around the area who seemed equally as awed by the display as i was. we also made lots of new friends among the crowd.

who knows if it was the sake talking or the genuine interest in explaining this incredible display of traditional culture to obviously intrigued foreigners. either way, the night was a great experience. i figure the burn holes in my fleece, jacket and gloves are a small price to pay for such a markedly interesting evening.

**thanks to liz for the pics of me.