The term “Nihyakutōka” (the 210th day) was commonly heard in the past, but it’s rarely mentioned these days. “Nihyakutōka” is one of the traditional seasonal divisions and refers to the 210th day from the start of spring (around February 4th), which falls around September 1st each year. Around this day, various rituals such as Kazamatsuri (Wind Festivals) and Fūchinsai (Wind Calming Festivals) have been held at shrines across Japan to pray for protection from wind damage. Additionally, on September 1, 1923 (Taisho 12), the Great Kanto Earthquake occurred, and in 1960 (Showa 35), this date was designated as “Disaster Prevention Day.” Wind festivals meant to protect crops and calm the winds still remain in various parts of the country. Particularly famous is the wind festival held in Yatsuo Town, Toyama City, the “Owara Kaze no Bon” of Etchu Yatsuo. “Owara Kaze no Bon” is one of the most representative events of Toyama Prefecture, held annually from September 1st to 3rd in the Yatsuo district of Toyama City. In this festival, silent dancers wearing straw hats perform sophisticated dances along the streets of the hilly town, accompanied by the mournful melody of the Etchu Owara Bushi. The festival features graceful female dancers, vigorous male dancers, and the poignant music of the kokyū (a traditional Japanese string instrument), captivating visitors. During the three days of the Owara Kaze no Bon, from September 1st to 3rd, approximately 250,000 spectators visit Yatsuo.
It’s been so hot that it’s more appropriate to send a midsummer greeting card than a late summer one. I keep getting ‘Heatstroke Alert’ notifications from the Yahoo Disaster Alert app on my smartphone. For us elderly folks, staying indoors is the best option. This summer, I’ve been watching Japanese festivals and Bon dances extensively on YouTube. I never knew there were so many diverse festivals and Bon dances across Japan. At the same time, I was reminded of how much the times have changed, making it possible to see such things only through a medium like YouTube. Among all this, what intrigued me the most was a Bon dance called ‘Nanyadoyara,’ passed down in the northern Tohoku region of North Okushu. It’s a Bon dance handed down in the area from southern Aomori Prefecture to northern Iwate Prefecture, as well as in the former Nambu domain area of the Oga region in Akita Prefecture. It is named ‘Nanyadoyara’ after the lyrics of the accompanying song. It is said to be the root of Japanese Bon dances and the oldest Bon dance in Japan. Although the content of the song varies by region, it generally goes like this: ‘Nanyado Nasarete Nanyadoyara Nanyadore Nasarede Noo Nanyadore Nanyadoyarayo Nanya Nasarete Saae Nanyado Yarayo Nanya Nasarete Nanyadoyara Nanyado.’ The lyrics are completely incomprehensible, like some kind of incantation. Due to the enigmatic nature of these lyrics, various researchers throughout history have shown interest, proposing theories such as the ‘Sanskrit theory,’ ‘Dowa theory,’ or even ‘love song theory.’ Folklorist Kunio Yanagita suggested that the lyrics, which he learned from a village girl, mean ‘whatever you do, do as you like,’ and he interpreted it as a love song directed at men on special festival days. However, this explanation has not been entirely convincing, and the mysterious lyrics remain unexplained. However, in the Taisho era, a theologian from Ichinohe Town in Iwate Prefecture, Eiji Kawamorita, took up this Aomori folk song in his book ‘Jews in Japan’ and made a big splash by asserting that if the pronunciation of ‘Nanyadoyara’ is read as ‘Nagyadoyara’ in Hebrew, it suddenly turns into a song with meaningful words. Kawamorita explained how a Hebrew-rooted poem transformed and took root as a Japanese folk song, presenting several examples of Japanese folk song lyrics and accompanying words that can be read in Hebrew. To this day, there’s a village in Aomori Prefecture called Herai, which some believe might be a Hebrew village, meaning an ancient Israelite settlement. In the dialect of Herai Village, fathers are sometimes called ‘Ada’ and mothers ‘Aba,’ which some suggest could be transformations of ‘Adam’ and ‘Eve.’ There are numerous similarities between Japanese and Hebrew, such as ‘Akinafu’ (to buy), ‘Ari-Gad’ (lucky for me), ‘Essa’ (I’ll lift it up), ‘Kaku’ (to write), ‘Komaru’ (to be troubled), and ‘Nikumu’ (to avenge), and some words are almost identical. Today, the theory that the Japanese and Jews share a common ancestry often comes up in discussions about history, and through Bon dances, I’ve gained new insights, deepening my interest in Japan’s ancient history.
When it comes to Bon Odori, it is one of the Bon memorial services held across Japan during the Obon period from the 13th to the 15th. However, in the Kansai region, especially in Kyoto, Osaka, and Kobe, there is a custom called Jizō Bon, which is held on the 23rd and 24th of August. The main participants of Jizō Bon are children, and in Kyoto, the place of origin, each neighborhood sets up stalls in front of the Jizō statues to offer flowers and rice cakes, enjoy games and lotteries. In Osaka, where I lived, Bon Odori was held during this time, and as a child, I thought the dance held at this time was Bon Odori. In each neighborhood, Jizō statues were enshrined, and during Jizō Bon, many offerings were placed in front of the statues, and after the festival, the children in the neighborhood received a share of these offerings. Additionally, participating in Bon Odori was a joy because Ramune soda and juice were handed out, which was a treat for us. For children, Jizō Bon was the biggest and final event of summer vacation, and when it ended, the summer holiday was almost over. While there was still unfinished summer homework to worry about, by that time, the once loud cicadas had fallen silent, and the sky began to change from summer clouds to autumn clouds, leaving only the sadness of summer’s end. Jizō Bon originated in Kyoto and became widely practiced in the Kansai region, but it seems it did not take root much in Tokai or Kanto regions. This is due to the differences in the history of Jizō worship; in Kyoto, Jizō Bon became very popular during the Muromachi period, whereas in Tokyo, Jizō statues were only made in the Edo period, and in Edo, Inari worship was more prevalent than Jizō worship.
When one thinks of the Daimonji Okuribi (bonfire event), the first thing that comes to mind is the Daimonji of Kyoto’s Gozan no Okuribi. However, very few people, even in the Kansai region, are aware of the Daimonji Okuribi on Mount Takamado in Nara. Today is the day for Kyoto’s Gozan no Okuribi, but Nara’s Takamado Okuribi was held yesterday, on the 15th. Of course, Kyoto’s Daimonji Okuribi has a long history, with origins said to be either from the Heian or Edo periods, but the Okuribi on Mount Takamado in Nara began in Showa 35 (1960). It was started to console the souls of those who died in the war, but now it has become a ritual to console all the deceased and to pray for world peace. It is also cherished as a summer tradition in the ancient capital of Nara. Additionally, before lighting the “大” character on Mount Takamado, a Shinto memorial service is held in Kasuga Taisha’s Tobihino area by the priests of Kasuga Taisha, followed by a Buddhist memorial service by monks from temples within the prefecture. This event, which transcends religion and sects to pray for peace, is a very rare practice even on a national level. While Kyoto’s Gozan no Okuribi has become fully commercialized and attracts tens of thousands of visitors every year, including many foreign tourists, Nara and Kyoto are often compared and contrasted. However, compared to Kyoto’s splendor, Nara still carries a somewhat subdued image. It’s often said that while Kyoto is known for its extravagant clothing culture and Osaka for its food culture, Nara is humorously referred to as a place where people “sleep their lives away.” Though one might nod in agreement, on the other hand, the charm of Nara, which was also the beginning of the Yamato Province, is encapsulated in the classical epithet “Aoniyoshi(.a traditional Japanese poetic epithet known as a “makurakotoba” (pillow word)),”
Japanese summers feel like they begin and end with festivals. From a foreigner’s perspective, they might wonder if Japanese people ever work during the summer, with so many festivals taking place. The core of these summer festivals is the Bon Odori. During the Obon season, lively festival music can be heard everywhere, and Bon Odori, held across the country, is one of the summer’s joys for ordinary people. Originally, Bon Odori was meant to entertain and honor the spirits of ancestors who returned during Obon and then send them off again. The origin of Bon Odori dates back to the Heian period when it was initiated by the monk Kūya. It was later popularized in the Kamakura period by the monk Ippen. It is said that the original form of Bon Odori was the ‘Nenbutsu Odori,’ a dance accompanied by the chanting of Buddhist prayers, as well as the beating of gongs and drums. Later, during the Nanbokuchō and Muromachi periods, a refined aesthetic sense called ‘fūryū’ became popular, characterized by ornate and elaborate designs. Under the influence of ‘fūryū,’ Bon Odori evolved into a dance accompanied by lively music with flutes and drums, and performers dressed in colorful costumes. Today, Bon Odori is held throughout Japan. Among them, the three most famous Bon Odori are the Nishimonai Bon Odori (in Ugo Town, Akita Prefecture), the Awa Odori (in Tokushima City, Tokushima Prefecture), and the Gujo Odori (in Hachiman Town, Gujo City, Gifu Prefecture). The Awa Odori, which begins today, is leading the way, marking the climax of this summer.
The “Naniwa Yodogawa Fireworks Festival,” which colors the summer night sky of Osaka, was held on the night of the 3rd, and a large crowd enjoyed the colorful fireworks. The “Naniwa Yodogawa Fireworks Festival” is held on the banks of the Yodo River, which flows through Osaka City, and attracts approximately 500,000 visitors each year. It was first held in 1989 (the first year of the Heisei era). The “Heisei Yodogawa Fireworks Festival Executive Committee,” formed from the operating committee of the “Juso Dontokoi Festival,” which had been held 16 times in the past, was established with the hope of revitalizing the city. Funded by donations from businesses and other sources, the event had been held annually as the “Heisei Yodogawa Fireworks Festival.” From the 18th event in 2006 (Heisei 18), the name was changed to the “Naniwa Yodogawa Fireworks Festival,” as it is known today. The festival started as a handmade fireworks display organized by citizen volunteers and has now grown to be one of the largest and most popular summer events in Osaka. This year’s 36th event was themed “From the Sky of Naniwa, Deliver to the World!” The fireworks were launched in sync with the music, creating a dancing effect. The dynamic star mines that beautifully spread in a semicircle over the water surface at two locations, and the simultaneous launch of large shells that covered the entire field of vision, were overwhelmingly impressive. It was a truly spectacular sight. When I was a child, there was a fireworks festival called the “Suitosai” held on the riverbank of the Yodo River. Upon researching, I found that it started in the summer of 1946 (Showa 21) near Toyosato Bridge on the banks of the Yodo River, hosted by the Osaka Nichinichi Newspaper, with hopes for the recovery of Osaka, which had been reduced to burned-out fields due to war damage. Since 2002 (Heisei 14), it has been held in conjunction with the Tenjin Festival Dedication Fireworks. It is operated with sponsorship from private companies and organizations, and during the Tenjin Festival, fireworks are launched at Sakuranomiya Park on the left bank of the Okawa River and the Mint Bureau. I feel that perhaps the “Naniwa Yodogawa Fireworks Festival” was established by people with nostalgia for the old “Suitosai.”
Seven years ago, in the summer of 2017, thinking that my legs had weakened and I might not be able to make such a trip again, I made a significant decision to visit Kamikōchi, a place full of memories. In the past, the only way to enter was from Matsumoto City in Nagano Prefecture, but now it’s much easier as you can enter from Hirayu Onsen in Gifu Prefecture. I took a shuttle bus from Hirayu and got off at the Taishō Pond bus stop, the entrance to Kamikōchi. As you descend the steps in front of the bus stop, the breathtaking view of Taishō Pond unfolds before your eyes. Beyond the pond, Mount Yake looms. From here, it’s about a 4 km journey to Kappa Bridge. After walking for about 20–30 minutes from Taishō Pond, the view suddenly opens up, revealing the Tashiro Marsh spreading out before you. Beyond the marsh, you can catch a distant view of Mount Okuhotaka, the symbol of Kamikōchi. The feeling of standing at the summit resurfaces. Passing through the Tashiro Marsh, the trail splits into two: the “Azusa River Course” and the “Woodland Course.” I chose the “Azusa River Course.” Along the way, there are several signs warning, “Beware of bears!” The clear streams and the sound of babbling water evoke a deep sense of nostalgia. I still vividly remember the delicious taste of powdered juice mixed with the water from the Azusa River. Continuing on, I crossed Tashiro Bridge and followed the right bank route along the Azusa River. There, a relief of the British missionary Walter Weston, who introduced the beauty of Kamikōchi to the world, is displayed, and now many accommodations, including Kamikōchi Alpen Hotel, have been built in the area. After walking for about 10 more minutes, Kappa Bridge comes into view. Standing on the bridge, you can see Mount Okuhotaka and Mount Myōjin. The course from Taishō Pond to Kappa Bridge takes about two hours if you walk leisurely, but it probably took me three hours. As I crossed the bridge, I saw an old painter drawing at the foot of the bridge. After finishing his painting, he was drinking coffee. When I spoke to him, he kindly pulled out a folding cloth chair and offered me coffee, and we lost track of time as we reminisced.
Samegai-juku, the 61st post town on the Nakasendo, is an old and new popular spot, known for its picturesque streetscape, the murmuring of the Jizo River, and the delicate flowers of the plum blossoms in the water. The Nakasendo is one of the five main routes established during the Edo period, connecting Nihonbashi in Edo (Tokyo) and Sanjo Ohashi in Kyoto through an inland route. Compared to the Tokaido, which runs along the Pacific coast, the Nakasendo is about 40 kilometers longer and passes through relatively steep mountainous terrain. However, the accommodations were cheaper, and the regulations by the Edo shogunate were more relaxed, resulting in traffic comparable to that on the Tokaido. Samegai, where Samegai-juku was located, has long been a key transportation hub, and it is also mentioned in the Kojiki that this place, called “Isamei no Shimizu” (the healing spring), is where Yamato Takeru (Prince Ousu) healed his wounds after being defeated by the god of Mount Ibuki. The temperature of the clear stream water remains around 14 degrees Celsius throughout the year. The Baikamo flower blossoms, which grow along the bottom of the stream and crawl along with the flow, can reach lengths of about 50 centimeters and bloom white flowers resembling plum blossoms, about 1 to 1.5 centimeters in size, from early summer to late summer. The sight of these underwater flowers, the Baikamo flower, in Samegai-juku, near the end of a roughly two-week journey, must have left a particularly strong impression on travelers.
The summer scenery viewed from Mount Horai, which stands majestically on the western shore of Lake Biwa, is both grand and evokes various thoughts as a primeval landscape. The origin of the name “Lake Biwa” is said to be first recorded in a book left by Kousou, a scholar monk from Mount Hiei, in the early 16th century. It is believed that he observed the lake spreading out below daily and imagined its shape resembling the musical instrument “biwa” (a type of lute). Given that it was a time when aerial views were not possible, this shows an astonishing level of insight. Lake Biwa, which occupies one-sixth of the area of Shiga Prefecture, is of course a freshwater lake, but ancient people probably thought it was a sea and called it “淡海” (Awumi, meaning freshwater sea), which later became the origin of the name “Omi”. Emperor Tenji opened the capital of Otsu because of the presence of this lake. After the Yamato court suffered a major defeat at the Battle of Baekgang while supporting its ally Baekje, it relocated the capital from Asuka to Otsu to prepare for potential invasions from Tang and Silla. Otsu seemed attractive because it was protected by Mount Hiei to the west and had an easy escape route via Lake Biwa to the east. However, the capital only existed in Otsu for five years and five months. The relocation of the capital originally displeased the aristocracy, and after Emperor Tenji’s death in 671, a succession struggle known as the Jinshin War broke out in 672 between Emperor Tenji’s son, Prince Otomo, and his brother, Prince Oama. Prince Oama emerged victorious, ascended the throne as Emperor Tenmu, and moved the capital back to Asuka, constructing the Asuka Kiyomihara Palace. Later, Oda Nobunaga built Azuchi Castle on the shore of Lake Biwa, boasting the tallest wooden structure in Japan at the time, commanding control over the land. However, following the Incident at Honnoji, it too was destroyed just six years later.
Because it blooms with flowers resembling hyacinths, in its native regions of North and South America, it is also called the “Water Hyacinth.” It is generally believed that it was introduced to Japan as an ornamental plant during the Meiji era. However, there is an 1855 work by the Edo-period artist Utagawa Kunisada depicting water hyacinths along with goldfish and beautiful women, suggesting it may have arrived in Japan earlier. In Japan, the plant was named “Hotei Aoi” because its round, swollen petioles were likened to the belly of Hotei (a god of fortune), and its leaves resembled those of the mallow (aoi) plant. The water hyacinth was discovered in Brazil in the 17th century. Because of its beautiful flowers, it was introduced to various parts of the world as an ornamental plant from the 19th century to the early 20th century. In the latter half of the 20th century, when rivers worldwide became polluted with industrial and domestic wastewater, the water hyacinth’s ability to absorb nitrogen and phosphorus was noted, leading to attempts to use it for water purification. However, the water hyacinth proliferated explosively, covering rivers and ponds, and in South America and Africa, it interfered with ship navigation and hydropower generation by dams, becoming known as one of the world’s ten worst invasive weeds, feared as the “blue devil.” In Japan, too, there have been instances of explosive proliferation in rivers and ponds over the past four or five years, which has drawn significant attention. On the other hand, leveraging the water hyacinth’s rapid growth, various overseas regions have started to commercialize it by weaving its stems into recycled paper, furniture, lampshades, baskets, bags, ropes, and even using it as livestock feed. Furthermore, research is being conducted into its use as a source of biofuels like methane gas, raising expectations for its future applications.