Nikkei Matsuri

A Nikkei Matsuri several years ago.

One of my favorite festivals of the year is tomorrow, and so, I'm going to take a moment to write about that and put on hold the other two posts I've been working on to catch up with my April Alternative Challenge.

This year, the Nikkei Matsuri promises to be especially lovely because San Jose is hosting a delegation from our sister-city of Okayama, celebrating 60 years of friendship. This will also be the 40th anniversary of the festival itself.

In appearances and timeliness, this festival adheres a little more closely to "Children's Day" than to a "Cherry Blossom" festival, but it is very much a Japanese American Celebration-- hence 'Nikkei Matsuri.'

Artists both local and far come to vend their wares, often featuring traditional techniques in ceramics, fabric-arts and origami. There are exhibits of ikebana and calligraphy, martial arts demonstrations and, of course, great food. It is a wonderfully immersive cultural experience in a community that has over 125 years of history in San Jose.

More information on the festival, as well as the Sister City partnership with Okayama can be found at www.nikkeimatsuri.org 

Bon Odori

Obon Odori, for those of you unfamiliar with the festival, is most easily likened to Dia de los Muertos celebrations. It is a time of remembrance and reflection; a time to honor those who have passed. Rather than mourning, it is a time to celebrate, dancing in joy at the memories we cherish.

Three years ago, after my grandfather's passing, I decided that I would dance at Obon, not just that year, but every year. I'm not sure that he would have understood my decision, even if I were able to explain, but this sort of remembrance is for the living. This year, I am dancing for a very dear friend who I think would have understood, and would have certainly loved the parade of colorful yukata and kimono that is always on display for the dancing.

My grandfather and me, taken in 2009 on one of my trips back to the East Coast.

Fran was a dear and wonderful friend to my family. She had a passion for many things, including textiles, so I wore yukata for one of my visits with her.

I had participated as a dancer in the festival several years previous to making this promise to myself; not to dance for anyone in particular, but simply to say that I had. Before that, I had been content to play the spectator, not really understanding just what had brought all of these people together.

I worried that keeping my promise would be difficult. I worried because I felt myself to be very much an outsider to this community. I worried because it seemed to me that everyone already knew all the dances and was using this as a chance to socialize. I certainly didn't know the names of anyone save perhaps one or two people, and even then, only in passing. After the first few practices, though, I realized that what I had stepped into was a very open and inviting community (Buddhists, as a friend pointed out to me, tend to be like that).

The next year, I knew more people; I had a group that I could walk to practice with, and be able to learn and dance with. Not only that, but I was recognized by others because of my various forays into Nihonmachi while in kimono. The highest compliment, of course, was having someone come up to me and say 'I remember you from last year. You look like you know what you're doing so I'm going to follow you.'

This year, the dances are familiar to me. The music plays and the steps come back easily, despite the intervening year. More faces are familiar, but there are just as many new faces who appreciate the welcoming smile that I can feel confident in offering now. Somewhere, somehow in this stretch of time, I have become part of a community. Keeping my promise will not be difficult.

Yukata worn for Saturday's dancing at Obon 2012, the year my grandfather passed. It happens to be the same one I wore to visit with Fran in the earlier photo.

For three years, I have been struggling to write this post. From the beginning, I wanted to do justice to the festival and to the community that has welcomed me. I wanted to talk about the origins of the dance in the Buddhist tradition, the dances themselves, as well as the more secular aspects of the festival-- carnival-style games and food.

Of course, I wanted to talk about yukata, especially as the light summer garment is very much a part of the identity of the festival. It's not required to dress in yukata to participate though it is encouraged and if one is unsure of how to dress properly, there are volunteers to help. There is no denying that the sight of so many colorful patterns lend a festive air to the proceedings.

Yet I struggled for three years because to talk of any of the more secular aspects without their proper grounding in the heart of the festival would have been a disservice to the whole occasion. To only talk about my own reasons for dancing would not be giving proper respect to all those who dance, have danced, and dance no more. For three years, there did not seem to be a way to write down everything I wanted to share about this time of year.

After much contemplation on how to do this properly, I found myself at the beginning; that this is a celebration of remembrance. The dance is opened and closed with Gassho: The meeting of opposites, the symbol of Dharma- the truth of life. Having acknowledged this balance, I hope that this will be only the first of several posts about Obon, which has become one of the touchstones of the circle of my year.

Nikkei Matsuri

The Nikkei Matsuri in San Jose's Japantown is one of the festivals that I look forward to attending every year. It is a vibrant little street festival with lots of artisan vendors, food booths, music, demonstrations and performances. For me, it has become one of the markers of the seasons-- with the Nikkei Matsuri, spring is really here.

Since this is a festival of the arts and of spring (as well as corresponding loosely with 'Boy's Day,' at least in that the big carp flags are always brought out for this festival), I of course wished to dress for the season. Recently, I'd acquired through E-bay a lovely kimono of a pale silver color with a repeating diamond design of fans in dark purple. I had thought that the colors would be cool enough to hint at 'spring' and that I could wear an obi and cords that would accent the feel of the season. Unfortunately for this plan, the weather promised to be quite warm and I couldn't justify going out in a fully lined kimono to a place that had plenty of hope of shade, but little of seating or air conditioning.

I didn't want to opt for one of my yukata, for though they are cotton and unlined, and entirely appropriate for an outdoors festival, I felt that they were just a little too casual for an occasion where I hoped to be taking in some of the classical dance demonstrations, as well as shopping on the street. Fortunately, there were other options.

Front view of hitoe kimono with woven obi.

Back view of hitoe kimono with musubi tied by  Ann.

This is an unlined or hitoe kimono that I picked up at Nichi Bei Bussan during their 'Thank you' days. Being unlined, I didn't have to worry about having an extra layer on top of the juban that I wore to protect the garment. What I did worry about was that the colors would be a little too autumnal, especially with an obi in a golden tone. I think I was able to offset that effect by highlighting the blue hints in the obi with my bag and the blue on the hanao of my geta. The kanzashi also say 'spring' and though you can't really see it, I'm wearing a second stick that has a little koi charm on it in honor of the carp that are flown for this festival.

One of the things that I enjoy about this festival is that it affords an opportunity to see others dressed in kimono.

Of course my eyes were closed, but we couldn't resist the photo-op.

Beyond seeing others in kimono, this can also be a time to educate people on how to wear their kimono. When one is approaching the garment for the first time, there are all kinds of mistakes that can be made, starting with how it is crossed across the body (you always want to be left over right, unless you are dressing a corpse!). I regret that I was not present when Ann did her good deed for the day and helped a young woman get into her own yukata properly.

It was also fun to see some cosplayers (individuals dressed in the manner of anime/manga characters that they like) wandering around, though we didn't get any photos of them.

A final shot-- the pinwheel was given to me by the gentleman in the right-hand side of the previous photo.

Every year, I see more and more people coming out to the festival in kimono or costume, and I hope that the trend continues as more people discover the joys that can be had with dressing for the occasion.