I Survived a Japanese Mikoshi!

Greetings my faithful minions, K-Sizzle here! I, the local (and best) Kami-sama of Yotsukura Temple, in Fukushima, the third largest prefecture in Japan, was duly impressed by the mortal subjects that turned out for my party during Golden Week.

The festivities, or Matsuri as we like to call it, were overrun be strangers from distant lands this year, many of them tall giants, and I couldn’t help, but laugh at them as the strolled up to my temple wearing their happi coats and tabi shoes, though none of them were brave enough to wear the fundoshi (that’s a thong tha-thong-thong-thong for those not in the know).mikoshi2

Living in my swank crib year round is great, but sometimes I need to get out, stretch the old legs, and shake my god mojo out. So every so often I summon my servants to my gilded palace and have them pull up my portably pimped ride, the mikoshi, and take me for a spin around the town. It’s a win-win for everyone involved: they get to have some of my undeniable sexiness rubbed off on them and I get to recharge my spirit in the salty green sea and get so fresh and so clean-clean.

 

But since my car has no motor, I rely on you humans to cart me to my destinations. So after a quick prayer and blessing, you took your positions beside me and we set off on our pilgrimage to the sea.

I was rapturous watching your awkwardly bent backs breaking beneath my weight and the sweat that watered the ground. Oh how I cackled, giddy with glee, as you bore me up and down stairs, hills and streets. And though I was tempted to sleep in my portable chariot, because we gods need our beauty rest too, you kept me alert with constant shaking and cries of “Wasshoi, wasshoi, wasshoi!” I was greatly amused!

mikoshi1

The peasants should really be more careful when they toss their offerings at me though. Even wrapped in paper, hundreds of coins came flying at my slave-powered Cadillac. I mean, this swagged out ride wasn’t cheap you know! Not that I paid for it, but watch the paint job, servants!

I admit, I dozed off a couple of times and may have missed the blessing of a business or two, but I was just so exhausted from the excitement of it all. You rested too sometimes, because you are after all human and weak, drinking alcohol together while I watched. It would have been nice of you to share, but I’m used to your propensity for greed.

As we drew closer to the sea, the smell of salt drove me into a frenzy. You must have felt it, too as you all tapped into some secret reserve of human willpower, cresting the final large hill and rushing the beach. I even stopped counting my gold to watch in awe of man’s spirit. You still surprise me sometimes, humans. The ocean was waiting before us as we converged with the other lesser chariots and their divine riders, allmikoshi3 far less great and sexy as I. Everyone was chanting and stripping off their clothes, building up to the glorious moment of climax into the sea! It was agonizing to taste the water growing closer all morning…but finally the time had come and you, my devoted lackeys, carried me with gusto into the frigid waters. We melded and merged as one, man, nature and the divine (that’s me!), and all was washed clean. Your minds were wiped clear of thought in the commotion and you all ascended into religious ecstasy. In Japanese, it was the moment of “Misogi”, of purifying and removing all the evil from your bodies.

I let you rest then and consume food to recharge your bodies, because after that, we were only halfway home. The afternoon brought us down more streets where we liberally shook out more luck to hundreds of waiting people. You loaded me into a truck and took me into the countryside, because those subjects in the inaka need lovin’ too. I could see the lights in your eyes fadmikoshi4ing as we headed to the finish line.

There again we merged with the other god’s mikoshi in a grand, final battle. Oh how we shook and danced, all of you throwing me high into the air and then back down, dangerously close to crashing into the ground. The chorus of voices was sublime as you all spent the very last of your energy to pay tribute to me (and the other gods as well, I guess).

Then my chariot went into storage and I returned home and I watched you all huddle together in exhausted triumph. I was proud of you all, humans. I hope to see you again next time…though something tells me we may never meet again. Unless of course you want to be badass like one of these guys, proudly wearing his “Mikoshi Kobu” (Callus) like a badge of honor!

 

mikoshikobu

This entry was posted in Lifestyle, Culture, Japan and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.