Makabe All Dolled-Up Until March 3rd
Hina Dolls in old bookshop
Old house with dolls on display
Edo Period Dolls
Most of the year, if you pass through the center of the quaint, though rusting and run-down old town of Makabe, you are unlikely to see a single soul walking about. That is why it is surprising to go there in February, the coldest month of the year, and find the streets filled with throngs of excited visitors wandering from old shop to old shop and old house to old house. What are all these people doing, sometimes even in the rain ad sleet ? Well, eating, drinking (the local sake!), shopping, taking in the dozens of historical buildings, and most prominently, OOHING and AAHING at the dazzling variety of antique Hina Doll sets which are proudly displayed by local residents from February 4 to March 4th. There are about 200 of these family heirlooms, set up for your viewing pleasure, at shops and homes around the city center, and they have proven very successful, as part of the city-promoted Hina Matsuri Doll Festival, in bringing Makabe BACK TO LIFE, even if just for four winter weeks each year, for the past seven years.
Though the town can be a bit depressing in the way that TIME SEEMS TO HAVE PASSED IT BY (a by-pass road has diverted traffic from the city center, the old Tsukuba Railroad, which ran from Tsuchiura to Iwase with a station in Makabe has gone out of service, and the stone workers who have made Makabe Stone-Ware famous throughout Japan now have to compete with much cheaper imports from Korea and China), Makabe is ALWAYS a fascinating place to visit, with an old castle ruin, several noteworthy shrines and temples, an almost unchanged early-20th century townscape, dozens of stone works shops displaying their sometimes bizarre wares, an 800 year old bell foundry (!), and its completely different view (as compared with Tsukuba) of Mt Tsukuba and the mountains behind it, Mt Ashio and Mt Kaba. Despite these formidable attractions, in Japan of the Heisei Era, Makabe is far off the beaten tourist path -- except, of course, when the calendar comes round to February (and the first 3 days of March), and the local residents bring out their old dolls -- a testament to Makabes's GOLDEN YEARS from the late Edo Period to mid-Showa, when its merchants could afford to splurge on extravagant Hina Doll sets to celebrate their female offspring and pray for their growth, good health and happy marriage.
Makabe in fact thrived for centuries, first as a castle town established in the late Heian Period under the Makabe-Lords which ruled until just after the battle of Sekigahara (1600) and the assertion of Tokugawa Family hegemony over Japan. The town was then ruled by the Asano Family (mostly doing the ruling from Kasama, however), whose most famous member was Asano Takuminokami (of the 47 Ronin story fame). Hence, the fine temples and shrines in the town and surrounding area.
During the Edo Period (1600-1868), as the merchants prospered, so did the situation of Hina Doll makers and the dolls themselves. Originally, having been tiny paper or straw figurines which were wiped against a girl's body to remove impurities, and then cast off, like scape-goats into a river or the sea, the dolls used on the Girls' Day Festival (Momo no Sekku ) evolved over time into sublime works of art, at first affordable only for the nobility and upper-rung samurai. As the merchant class grew richer, they too were able to buy the dolls, which in their fullest sets portray a prince and princess with their retinue and all the wedding trappings. The custom of putting out Hina dolls for the few weeks before the 3rd day of the 3rd month (now March 3rd), ended up becoming nearly universal. Instead of having these dolls cast-off into water, as the more primitive prototypes were in the old days, they were cast (gently of course) back into their boxes on the day after the festival. Families who did not do this were considered to be endangering their daughters' chances of a happy marriage.
In Makabe today, you will be able to see several doll sets from the Edo Period.
Visiting during the Hina Matsuri will also give you an opportunity to enter and photograph some VERY OLD shops and homes. At some residences, visitors are invited into the family compounds of larger homes and even into the old KURA (storehouses). The presence of two sake breweries which provide free tasting samples might even add a little extra ZIP to your doll viewing experience.
You can get to Makabe by car in about 40 minutes from central Tsukuba. Head north to Route 41. As you leave the Tsukuba City limits you will start to see the stone works on both sides of the road (and one curious HANIWA shop, selling large recreations of ancient earthen-ware figurines). You can park at the Sakuragawa City Office (now Makabe is part of Sakuragawa City).
Another option is to take the special buses operating for the festival (recommended for those who plan on tasting sake) which leave from the Tsukuba Center bus terminal. The earliest buses leave at 9:10 and 9:35. Roundtrip fare is 1500 yen.
This year some other cities in Ibaraki have been trying to copy Makabe's idea by holding similar month-long events. In the future, it seems that most of the old towns of Ibaraki will be getting DOLLED-UP for February.
I hope, however, that a visit to Makabe during the Hina Matsuri might lead to further appreciation of this all too overlooked neighbor of ours. Have a look at some of Makabe's places of interest:
http://www.city.sakuragawa.lg.jp/kankou_shisetsu/rekishi/index.html
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Tai-Yaki Eaters’ Dilemma — Is It Heads or Tails?
Taiyaki in Tsukuba
Where just recently were forest and field, now stands an immense (by Japanese standards) shopping mall called Iias, which some believe means "a good tomorrow" (ii asu), while others insist that it is named after the great warlord and founder of the Tokugawa Shogunate, Ieyasu. The debate rages on. Wandering its corridors the other day reminded me a bit of the huge airport outside of Kuala Lumpur, which at one time was the biggest terminal in the world. The small number of travellers utilizing that facility (it's hard to compete with the Changi Airport in Singapore, which is relatively nearby) makes it seem even more spacious than it really is, and quite a bit forlorn as well. I had the same feeling passing by the mostly empty, generic shops at cavernous Iias. Even the book store, which I had been looking forward to browsing at, proved to be richer in square meterage than in good books. I have never seen a book store in Japan with so much empty space between aisles.
Gin-no-An
After buying a book (I couldn't resist), I made my way down to the ground floor and spied in the distance a kiosk type shop (one that you cannot enter) which actually had a long line of customers waiting patiently to be served. From afar I saw that the shop was called Gin No An (銀の餡) and I curiously approached it to find out what it was selling -- ah-ha -- tai yaki (鯛焼き) those fish shaped waffle-like snacks usually filled with bean paste. I asked how long the wait would be, and was told 45 minutes! Well, I had my newly purchased book with me, so I figured, what the heck, these MUST be great tai yaki with a line this long. I asked my fellow liner-uppers if this was a famous chain, and was told that it was, and that there were always lines like this in front of this outlet, in fact usually even longer.
I tore open the plastic bag containing my book, held it up to my face, and fanned through its pages, inhaling that exhilarating NEW BOOK smell, and started reading while I waited. And wait is what I did. After a while I began to feel ON EDGE, not only because of the unusually long stand-around, but also because I'm a very impressionable reader, and the novel I had just started was Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar, the story of a young woman's descent into MADNESS. Fortunately, the line eventually advanced far enough so that I could now observe the staff, deep in concentration, scraping the grills clean, filling them with dough, adding filling, etc., which made the waiting (something I don't usually do) easier, and calmed my nerves a bit.
When it was finally my turn to order, I just couldn't make up my mind as to what filling to get, as GIN NO AN offers an interesting selection, so I took the easy way out and ordered the special six- type set. I was promptly given a hefty, steaming bag of tai yaki. Since I knew that if I opened the bag then and there I would end up eating the WHOLE BATCH by myself, I decided I would take them back to the Japanese friends I would be meeting later.
Not only were they thrilled by the special treat I had brought, but the tai yaki proved to be a great conversation piece, stimulating a long and excited discussion. The key question my friends asked each other was how they went about eating tai yaki -- from the head or from the tail? My group seemed to be divided on the subject, some liked starting with the head and working down (since the tip of the tail has no bean paste some thought it was a mouth freshener -- KUCHI NAOSHI -- at the very end), while those who loved the bean paste finished with the bean-filled heads. There were also those individualists who actually broke the Tai Yaki open and ate each half from the inside out! I also found that there were those who liked crispy outsides, and those who prefered them soft, and of course, there was the question of favorite fillings. In fact I hadn't had such an animated discussion with these friends since I had asked them what kind of ramen they liked!
Of course, I put in my own two cents, a little bit about the history of these long popular fish-shaped snacks (for many Japanese they are actually a light meal!)
The original Tai Yaki shop
Tai yaki were the creation of the Naniwaya-So-Honten (浪花家総本店) of Azabu Tokyo, which first started making them way back in 1904. The tai (鯛), or Japanese sea bream, has long been considered a sign of fortune and celebration. This is because of its red color, and even more importantly because the name TAI sounds like the ending of OMEDETAI, which means "something to celebrate". Back in the early 20th century, real sea bream were too expensive for the average Japanese, so when the sweet shop in Azabu made inexpensive tai shaped waffles filled with bean paste they were a big hit. And while most such big sellers quickly fade away in Japan, the popularity of tai yaki has proved enduring.
Tai -- fish for festive occasions
The peak of this popularity appears to have been in the mid-1970s with the appearance of a surprise hit-song "Oyoge! Tai Yaki-kun" (Swim! Tai Yaki) which was originally marketed as a children's song but whose lyrics hit a chord with the average salary-man (the fish, tired of being grilled everyday, escape to the sea!). The song's success fuelled a tai yaki craze at the time. Like most fads in Japan, however, after a few weeks of intense airplay, this song was hardly ever heard again (in fact I had never heard it until this week). The snacks themselves still live on, while the song merely remains ingrained the memories of people of a certain age who happen to be eating them. Oh, you can hear the song here.
These days tai yaki can be found in many different sizes and with various fillings. Gin No An has chestnut, sweet potato, sesame, etc., while the tai yaki vendor at the Seibu department store in Tsukuba has custard cream filling.
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Eating UGUISU MOCHI In Anticipation of Japan’s Most Famous Sound of Spring
Japan's spring songster
While the plum blossoms have burst open providing us with the encouraging SIGHTS and SMELLS of early spring, we have yet to hear the CALL, which in Japan has traditionally signalled the fact that spring has arrived in earnest -- the cry of the male UGUISU (鶯), or bush warbler. The Japanese have long heard this distinctive chirp, which is actually a mating call, as HO-HOKEKYO (法 法華経), which also happens to be the name of one of Japanese Buddhism's most famous sutras, The Lotus Sutra. Hear the actual sound here.
The sudden appearance of this melodic expression of avian yearning has been an inspiration for some of Japan's greatest spring poems, though the bird itself is quite plain, with dull brown feathers, and is in fact a little difficult to spot.
Uguisu Mochi
Since the Edo Period (1600-1868), the Japanese have anticipated the first calls of the bush warbler, which is often translated using the more poetic sounding NIGHTINGALE, by eating a traditional sweet (wagashi) called UGUISU MOCHI (鶯餅). These are slightly oval-shaped rice cakes, sprinkled with green soy bean powder and filled with bean-paste, which are meant to suggest, rather abstractly, the birds of famous song. For me, it is ironic, however, that the green soy bean powder (in the Edo Period green tea powder was actually used), makes the sweets more reminiscent of the beautiful MEJIRO, or Japanese white-eye, than of the dull colored bush warbler. Since few people can actually recognize the UGUISU by sight, I guess that nobody takes note of this .
Uguisu Mochi seems to more closely resemble the MEJIRO
Uguisu Mochi will be on sale at WAGASHI SHOPS (traditional Japanese sweet shops) through mid-March. They can be bought individually, or as part of a set containing other early spring treats such as sakura mochi and yomogi mochi. This year I bought mine on the ground floor of Tsukuba's Seibu department store at the HON-TAKASAGO-YA (本高砂屋) wagashi counter.
Spring wagashi set
There is one more point I'd like to make. In Japanese culture there are certain traditional pairings of flowers and birds -- with one of these being UGUISU and PLUM BLOSSOMS (梅にうぐいす ume ni uguisu). Because of this, the bush warbler and plum tree are often depicted together as a spring motif in Japanese arts and crafts. The fact is, however, that you will not very likely see UGUISU on a plum branch, as these these shy birds are usually taking shelter amid bamboo groves and woods. Within the next few weeks, however, you are more than likely to hear its famous call.
UGUISU- The bush warbler
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Choco LOCO — The Legacy of Lupercalia in Contemporary Japan
Making tough choices for Valentine's Day in Tsukuba
It always intrigues me how certain bits of cultural material can TRANSFORM over time, sometimes after having been carried to new environments, borne by the winds and currents of history. These metamorphoses remind me of the game called RENZOKU GEIMU (連続ゲイム) in Japanese (I can't recall the English name at the moment) in which two or more teams form their own lines and the referee whispers a word or phase to the person at the head of each line. This then has to be passed down to each team-mate by whispering into the next person-in-line's ear. It is always amusing to hear how the original words have evolved, often unrecognizably, by the time they get conveyed to the last person in the line.
I was thinking about that game after having stepped into Tsukuba's Seibu department store on Friday last week. I had wanted to do a little shopping and entered the ground level food department without being conscious of what day it was, or rather, what DAY BEFORE it was. I was quickly reminded. It was (Friday) February the 13th -- the day before Valentine's Day. The ground floor was absolutely packed with determined-faced women, doing their last minute chocolate shopping. For the occasion, various chocolate makers had set up temporary booths. The great concentration of fancy confections was enough to make anyone with a serious sweet-tooth swoon.
Newcomers to Japan would certainly wonder what was going on, and upon hearing an explanation, might shake their head in surprise. You see, in today's Japan, Valentine's Day is celebrated in a unique way. Instead of the exchange of messages and gifts between lovers (and family members) which is now customary in the West, it is the WOMEN ALONE who do the giving -- and the gifts mostly consist of chocolate. Moreover, the recipients are not only lovers, fathers or brothers -- but sometimes all of one's male colleagues or associates. This makes for lots of pre-Valentine's day stress AND for huge business. In fact, the chocolate makers make a large proportion of their sales in Japan during the Valentine's Day period.
Back to the RENZOKU GEIMU. It is always amazing for me to think of how the EXTREMELY popular ancient Roman festival of Lupercalia, a 3-day period of purification and prayer for fertility held in mid-February has survived in mutated form, in so many places around the world -- including Japan where it has taken on its unique form.
In ancient Rome, Lupercalia was celebrated with animal sacrifices and young men running through the streets with bloody strips of goat-hide, with which they would slap any women they encountered, believing this would make them fertile. During this time, certain couplings of young people were made, by lot, forming temporary MARRIAGES (year-long sexual unions). As you can imagine, the early Christian Church did not approve of these goings on, and Lupercalia was officially banned in the 5th century.
Such popular events do not die easily, however, and this ancient celebration of spring and fertility lived on in the consciousness of the people. The aspects which made it reprehensible to the church, especially its overt sexuality, were sublimated, and the mid-February time came to be a celebration of romantic love. The name Valentine was merely taken from the name of a saint martyred on the same date as the old Lupercalia Festival (and in fact there is more than one St. Valentine). Certain legends also arose to connect this name with LOVE. For example, it is said that Valentine was a priest who continued to perform marriages even at a time when a certain emperor had forbidden it (he thought he could draft more soldiers this way). While in prison, the priest sent a letter to his beloved, and as the story goes, he signed it "YOUR VALENTINE".
To make a long story short (for this blog posting), mid-February celebrations of LOVE survived the centuries and really took of in the US in the mid-1800s, with the introduction of the Valentine's Day card. Later, in the 20th century, besides the exchange of love letters, it became popular for lovers to exchange gifts, especially candies, flowers and chocolates. Valentine's Day was also deemed an appropriate occasion for a romantic dinner or excursion.
With Japan's rapid post-war economic growth and Americanization many American customs, especially those which induced shopping (e.g. Mother's Day, Father's Day, birthdays, Christmas) were promoted by certain Japanese companies. In 1960, the Morinaga Chocolate Company began its campaign to promote St Valentine's Day. Just how they hit on the idea of having only the women give chocolates to men is something I have yet to uncover.
If you got a lot of chocolate this year, you can relax for a while and enjoy it. But remember, this is Japan, and gifts also mean OBLIGATION. Next month, that is March 14th, is White Day, the unique Japanese occasion on which you are expected to return the gift, usually with white cookies or chocolate. I will see you guys on the ground floor of Seibu next month.
The ancient Romans would surely be surprised to know how their beloved festival is celebrated in Japan. It has been a long, strange journey from men slapping women with strips of goat in ancient Rome to women giving men chocolates here in Japan.
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Come Away From Mt. Tsukuba Shrine’s Toshikoshi-Sai Festival With Plenty Of Booty!
Tossing goodies to the crowd at Tsukubasan-Jinja 2009
This year, Kyu-Shogatsu (旧正月), the start of the new year according to the old Japanese calendar (in other words, the Chinese New Year) fell on January 26th. Fifteen days later, on the evening of February 9th through the morning of the 10th, the first full-moon of the new LUNAR year appeared, looming unusually large and mysterious, marking what has traditionally been called KO-SHOGATSU (小正月), which is now more commonly celebrated (if celebrated at all) according to the new calender, on the 15th day of the NEW first month, which is January.
Whichever calendar is followed, the first day of the year was called Oh-Shogatsu (大正月), while fifteen days later the night of the first full moon was called Ko-Shogatsu (小正月). Many incorrectly believe this to simply mean Big (大) and Small (小）New Year's, when in fact OH (大) meant OHYAKE (公) public or official, as in Official New Year's, and KO (小) meant minkan (民間) - the FOLK, as in the people's New Year's.
NARASE MOCHI at Tsukuba San Jinja
Over the years there have been many customs specific to KO-SHOGATSU, which was, like OH-SHOGATSU, celebrated for a three day period. Few of these custom survive, and those that do are just barely hanging on. It used to be common to eat rice gruel with azuki beans on Ko-Shogatsu (this custom is even mentioned in Sei Shonagon's Heian Period classic The Pillow Book -- Makura Soshi). I have never met anyone who still does this, but I have read that the custom still exists. These days, however, we can still see trees with pink and white mochi rice cakes stuck on the tips of their branches, especially at Asakusa's Senso-Ji Temple (though these are artificial). These decorative trees are known by different names depending on the region you are in and in Ibaraki they are often called NARASE-MOCHI, or rice cakes for abundant crops (NARU means to bear fruit), while in Asakusa the same trees decorated with plastic balls are called MAYU-DAMA (繭玉, cocoon balls), which are set up in hopes of an abundant silk harvest, which harkens back to the days when silk was Japan's most important foreign currency earner.
For two days, after the appearance of the first full moon of the new year (according to the old calendar), Mt. Tsukuba Shrine holds one of its most important annual events, the TOSHIKOSHI-SAI (年越際) or THE RE-SETTING OF OUR LIVES FESTIVAL. This year, the festival is being held on February 10th (today) and 11th. I was there this afternoon for the opening of all the excitement, which involves the unlikely scenario of sumo wrestlers, men and women born under this year's zodiac sign (the ox), as well as mothers holding their infants (born this year!) tossing mochi rice cakes (many containing coupons for other prizes), soy beans, and other assorted snacks into the frenzied crowd which scrambles for these items which are believed to bring good luck and remove the danger believed to be involved with unlucky ages.
It was a perfect day for a drive to the shrine, which is midway up Mt. Tsukuba. Temperatures were surprisingly warm and the air crisp and clear, providing for what is a UNIQUE view in Japan - a flat plain extending all the way out to the horizon. It was also a perfect day to enjoy the first bloomings of Mt Tsukuba's most famous creature -- the plum tree (or, should I say, second most famous, after the GAMA, or toad). When I reached the main hall of the shrine itself, I found several NARASE MOCHI TREES on display in honor of Ko-Shogatsu.
Getting ready to toss
The throwing sessions are scheduled for 2pm, 3pm , 4pm, 5pm, and 6pm, and expectant crowds (including many people of unlucky age, YAKU DOSHI), pushed up close to the shrine's main hall promptly at 2pm. They waited this way for half an hour, however, while a purification ritual (O-Harai) was held inside for those who would be doing the tossing. This delay happened again later, as those who gathered at 3pm, had to wait for 30 minutes.
When the ceremony got underway, all those who had come to the shrine quickly forgot all about their inconvenient wait. The sumo wrestlers and others proceeded to shower those gathered with assorted snacks and prizes. Most dangerously were the rock hard and relatively heavy mochi rice cakes, which also contained coupons for special prizes. You don't want to get smacked in the face by one of those! I was able to snare one out of the air, only to find that my special coupon entitled me to receive a pack of tissues!
What is all this about? Well, the priests at Tsukuba-San Jinja have combined several traditions to come up with their TOSHIKOSHI-SAI. First there is the date of the celebration, which coincides with Ko-Shogatsu according to the old lunar calendar. For this they decorate the shrine's precincts with narase mochi. They also use elements of the setsubun bean throwing festival, in that they throw soy beans (among many other different items) in order to drive away bad luck. Also on setsubun, famous shrines often invite sumo wrestlers and other celebs to do the throwing. The name used for the tossing ceremony is actually the name of the ancient Chinese ritual out of which Setsubun's bean throwing later evolved, Tsuina (in which plum branch bows and reed arrows were used to drive away bad fortune). In fact, many locals refer to the TOSHIKOSHI-SAI as a setsubun event or mame maki.
The priests of Mt. Tsukuba Shrine have put a special emphasis on the rituals efficacy for those in their unlucky years (most importantly 42 for men and 33 for women, though there are many other unlucky ages for each sex). This is also connected with New Year's and setsubun in that, traditionally, all Japanese became one year older together in this season, before the calendar changed bringing New Year's to January First and before individual birthdays were celebrated.
Mochi snared at Tsukuba-San Jinja 2009
If you plan on going tomorrow, keep two things in mind. The tossing will probably not begin as scheduled, so be patient, AND beware of those flying MOCHI RICE CAKES!
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