A First Birthday in Kumejima

Happy Birthday!  A baby’s first year is an important milestone, and it is perhaps no wonder that in a culture full of tradition, ceremony, and concerns about omens and luck that is marked with a special occasion.  I have never had any children, so I’m no expert when it comes to children’s festivals and culture, however, a friend’s child recently turned one and he shared this bit of culture with me.

Tankaue Ceremony

On Kumejima, the anniversary of a baby’s first birthday is marked by the tankaue ceremony.  It is a hogen word, and I have no idea if it is used in other parts of Japan, so feel free to chime in if you’ve heard of it else where.  The child is placed at one end of a room, and several items are placed on a table.  The child is then free to go and choose an item.

The child’s choice is meant to reflect their future.  If he chooses money, he will pursue money through his life.  If he takes rice, he will be strong.  If he takes a calligraphy brush, he will be artistic, a notebook studious, an abacus numbers oriented, a pencil well written.

Of course, a child might be swayed by things other than his mystic future.  In the case of my friend’s child, he is very into drumming.  Everyday he goes around hitting his small eisa drum.  It is perhaps no wonder, then that he was drawn to the two stick objects on the table and started using them like drumsticks, be it on an abacus, or rice.

Overall, the ceremony is an interesting look at how small islanders attempted to look into the future.  With such calamities as typhoon, earthquakes, and tsunami, it is easy to see why they might be interested in getting an idea of what might be in the future.

One other interesting note is that the ceremony can only be done when the ocean tide is coming in.  Thus the baby has to choose before 4:30 (or whenever it is going out) or that future will be taken out on the tide.

Special thanks to my friend who allowed me to use his video for this post!  Cute kid right?

Ceremony for a New Japanese House

This past week I was invited to attend a ceremony commemorating the construction of a new house.  Houses are pretty important in Japan.  Traditionally, families tend to stay on the same land for generations.  With today’s technology, houses are also expected to last a long time.  The construction of a new house, then is an important occasion for the family, community, and even the construction crew responsible for its creation.  When the concrete settles, an event is held to make offerings to the kami to ask for the durability, safety, and security for the new home.  The events I observed took place in three parts.

Offerings to the Gods

Traditionally, only men are allowed to ascend to the top of the house to make offerings, and then usually only the three representatives from household, community, and the construction crew.  I was kindly invited up to take pictures and record the event.  The three men brought a large bento box (traditional lunch box) with foods normally served to the Japanese gods and ancestors (kami).  These are the same foods served at ohaka during New Years and obon.

Sticks of incense, a five yen coin, salt, and a bit of food were laid out by each of the three men, then sake was poured over them.  They drank just enough of the sake to ‘purify the mouth’ then prayed for the safety of the building.  Afterward they ate a bit of the food.

Offerings to the Community

Since a new house is so important, the family generally wants to give a large offering.  The food in the bento is a symbolic offering, so there are many left overs.  At some point over the years, a tradition grew up where local children would come and gather below a new house.  After the ceremony the food was packaged up and tossed down to the crowd, where the children would try to catch the food.  Today, in addition to the special offering food, they also prepare treats and snacks and include them in the offering to the community children.

After tossing all the food down, the men then gave a further offering of salt, sake, and prayer at each corner of the building.

More for the Community

Finally, with the ceremonies complete, the children, community members, the construction crew and more were invited to celebrate with the new homeowners.  The family provided food and drink for everyone to enjoy and celebrate together late into the evening.

Feeding so many people must have been expensive, but return in goodwill, closer community ties, and as a further offering to kami was well worth it.  At such large events a soup of some kind is a usual main course since it is the easiest way to feed a lot of people.  This time, they made yagijiru (goat soup).  Yagi is a common protein on small Okinawan islands since beef is so much more expensive.  While cooking the tough meat they added pressed sugar cane to the broth for a time  to help soften the meat.

In the end, thanks to the ceremony, the family should be able to look forward to many years of comfort in their new house, along with the good will and thanks of the community for the effort and expense they put into the offerings at the ceremony.

An Offering of Sake

The Japanese word for alcohol is known throughout the world.  Sake is not only the name of a specific type of drink, but is as ubiquitous as xerox was for paper copies.  Unlike in the West, where beer began as a food source with longer shelf-life than bread, sake had a higher purpose in Japan.  Like many aspects of Japanese Culture, alcohol was initially part of religious ceremonies.  As hand and mouth washing is still common at temples in Japan, alcohol was used to purify oneself before Shinto or Buddhist rituals.

Today sake and other forms of Japanese alcohol are consumed regularly throughout the country, but it is still an important part of many religious ceremonies as well.  At nearly every festival, funeral, and wedding, offerings of sake are given as a symbol of something produced from hard work, that can be offered to the dead or spirits.  The evaporation of alcohol can be seen as a method of transference, while everyone living can enjoy the rest.

An Ancient Ceremony

Recently, I was surprised by a ceremony that took place in between local sumo competitions.  With no announcements that I was aware of, four students holding long handled fans appeared leading an old lady in a kimono and crown made of plants to an open space near the sumo ring.  The ceremony turned out to be one of the last remaining practices of very old series of offerings marking the rice harvest.  While the island I live on no longer produces rice, the ceremony called umachii (ウマチー)is still observed along with the Gima neighborhood Okinawan Sumo Competition.    In Okinawa, such holidays follow the lunar kyureki calendar, so although the competition took place in August, it is named rokugatsu umachii (June Festival).

Although sugar cane has replaced rice cultivation here, the place of the sumo and ceremony was once a storage area for the rice harvest.  Every year, a priestess would arrive and travel from neighborhood to neighborhood and complete a ceremony before each rice storage area, known as gyucha (ぎゅちゃ)in the Okinawan dialect.  With the loss of rice harvesting and the modernization of the island, the number of ceremonies has dwindled to only three.

One for me, Three for you

The purpose of the ceremony is to make offerings to kami (Japanese Gods) in thankfulness for the harvest and in preparation for the new year.  The priestess is the medium between the kami and locals wishing to make an offering.  The ceremony starts with little formality, but great respect.  The priestess is served a rice based food, then the essence of the ceremony starts.  In the past, the priestess would be accompanied by several attendants who would chant.  While today, the priestess does have some local help, a cassette player stands in for the chanting.

The priestess is poured a small glass of sake (in this case it is a local version of rice wine called awamori, rather than the heavier liquor found in the mainland of Japan).  She accepts it, but does not consume it.  Instead her helper pours it into a container to be offered at a shrine.  The pattern continues a minimum of three times, but often many more.  The locals continue to offer, hoping to give as much as possible, until the priestess returns a full cup.

Though the tradition is fading, it was great to experience a simple, but very old ceremony with a strong tie into local culture.  Why sake?  In addition to the traditional use as a purifier, awamori is one of my islands biggest exports.  It is something they still make today, and like sumo, offering mean a lot more if you give something from your own effort.