me in the piazza

I'm a writer, publishing both as SJ Rozan and, with Carlos Dews, as Sam Cabot. (I'm Sam, he's Cabot.) Here you can find links to my almost-daily blog posts, including the Saturday haiku I've been doing for years. BUT the blog itself has moved to my website. If you go on over there you can subscribe and you'll never miss a post. (Miss a post! A scary thought!) Also, I'll be teaching a writing workshop in Italy this summer -- come join us!
Previous Entry :: Next Entry

Read/Post Comments (0)
Share on Facebook


orchids

Rozan Dances at Obon

A couple of people expressed interest in the Obon ceremonies. We were in Matsumoto over Obon, where they did indeed float candles down the river that runs through the center of town. Or tried to. Japan’s had so much rain in the last month that the river, which apparently by Obon time has usually shrunk to about six inches deep and meanders slowly, was over a foot and racing. The children had made hundreds of paper lanterns with pictures on them, some quite lovely and some wonderful childish scrawls, and the town had built a platform extending a little way into the river to launch them from. Every lantern that was lit and then placed in the river went hurtling away as though the ancestors had had just about enough of THIS family vacation and couldn’t wait to get home.

Also in Matsumoto, to celebrate Obon, they set up a bandstand in the square below the castle. A group of musicians plays traditional Japanese instruments and everyone does folkdances. The way the dances work (I don’t know if this is true of all Japanese folkdances, or just this group) is that they’re done in a series of roughly concentric circles that move around the bandstand clockwise. Everyone faces the way they’re going (as opposed to the kind of circle dance where everyone faces into to the circle). People dance alone, without partners, and the movements are repetitive. The dances they did were from all over Japan, but everyone over the age of ten seemed to know them all; Seiichiro says they’re taught at school. Men, women and kids came dressed in fancy kimonos, or casual clothes, and everyone was having a blast. By the third dance, which was about coal miners (I figured that out, and asked Seiichiro later, who was astonished that I could tell; but honestly, digging-with-a-shovel gestures are transferable cross-culturally) I could follow what was going on. A smiling charming gentleman – and an excellent dancer -- invited me to step into line in front of him, so I did, and joined in; but only after making sure Seiichiro did too, to eliminate the possibility of any photos recording this event.


Read/Post Comments (0)

Previous Entry :: Next Entry

Back to Top

Powered by JournalScape © 2001-2010 JournalScape.com. All rights reserved.
All content rights reserved by the author.
custsupport@journalscape.com