Part 1.
One of my sisters said something a few days ago about length of e-mails, so I'm going to try something with this overly long one. I'm going to spit it up.
This last weekend, I did nothing
And it was fabulous.
Although not technically true, I did do some grocery shopping, the rest was much needed. The previous week was bloody busy; which, yes, is how I like it.
It started off on the Wednesday of the previous week, with a night parade. The 15th of June marks the Birthday of Kukai, posthumously called Koba Daishi, the founder of my town, Koyasan, and of Shingon Esoteric Buddhism.
He's not dead, but in a state of deep meditation at the end of Okunoin cemetery, where our Birthday celebrations for him begin. He's a great guy all round, and still has monks bringing him
food each morning as well as changing his clothes every few months.
It may sound gross, but think about it: How often would you really need to change if you spent nearly your entire day in deep meditation?
The parades glowing floats glided through the town with the Conan-esque pushing of the local scouts and primary school students.
I followed them to the Great Gate, Daimon, chatting with different friends taking part, or the other JETs who had driven up to see it.
On the way back, I met an interesting young lady who was researching the commercialisation of the Kukai, and we serendipitously came across a friend's cafe that was open late for an impromptu session of freestyle music. We all stayed there until the small hours, and I listened
apprehensively as first Sonia, the Croatian nun, and then Dan, the private English teacher, were asked about their feelings on the commercialisation subject.
If you read his blog you'll already have a good idea of how awkward that could have been.
The next morning, I was tasked with pushing the large float of Kukai from the night before along with my students. The other students from the Junior Secondary School danced down the street, while my Primary school students did what they did best, made musical noise. The "rain" (drizzle at worst) terrified the monks into a phalanx formation of Umbrellas, and we marched through the town, using pikes to move braches away from Kukai's delicate paper-mache head.
It was another great opportunity for us to grab our festival gear and shout at people, and the pre-schoolers loved the chance to take over the road. And, as per usual in this country, the Oba-chan (Grannies) showed up everyone else taking part.
http://www.bebo.com/PhotoAlbum
amities
david
"Veni, Vidi, Vomiti"
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