Make Way for Mikoshi

I headed for the granddaddy of Tokyo’s three major festivals on May 21. A week after Kanda festival, Sanja festival is larger and more boisterous. Up to one million people visited Senso-ji temple over the weekend, highlighted by an unending parade of mikoshi. Teams of area residents lug these portable shrines around neighborhood streets, and pass in front of Senso-ji temple to pay homage to the goddess of mercy enshrined within.

I arrived early, but the grounds had already swelled with onlookers. Wanting the best view, I muscled my way to just opposite the entrance of this Buddhist temple. There was no room to second-guess my location. I could barely raise my camera without elbowing old ladies in bucket hats. An hour later, thousands of shutters captured the first of 100 mikoshi to reach the temple.

Whistles, drums, and chants heralded their arrival. These gold and black lacquer portable shrines transport local deities, who apparently get restless being confined to their precincts. So, once a year residents air out the mikoshi with a spin around the block to throngs of admirers.

This must feel refreshing for the deities, but grueling for participants who tread for miles barefoot or in thin slippers while shouldering wooden beams on which mikoshi rest. With devotion the bearers press on, clinging to the beams like driftwood. The sun saps their energy as sweat soaks through their bandanas and symbolic happi coats. Chanting helps maintain morale, as do designated team cheerleaders who clap, pump fists, and clear the path ahead.

Mikoshi aren’t just carried. They’re bounced. Legend says that shaking the deities will bestow blessings and prosperity upon the neighborhood and its parishioners for the coming year. As a result, the mikoshi list from side-to-side, sometimes careening into the crowd, which collectively recoils. Elevated above a sea of supporters, shrines bob like buoys. Because of the backbreaking work, a rotating team of two to three dozen carries the shrine. With pained expressions, some must be counting the steps to their next cigarette break.

The festival emphasizes harmony through group unity. Young and old, male and female, shoulder-to-shoulder they balance colorful burdens. Pride and sweat drip from their brow as participants shuffle towards the shrine, saving their last few breaths for this culminating point of their journey.

Popularized during the Edo period (1603-1868), the Sanja festival embraces all generations and aspects of Japanese culture. Children pull special miniature mikoshi while grandparents flank the procession. I spotted legendary geishas and notorious yakuza who use this occasion to brandish their mafia tattoos, which is normally against the law.

Food stalls include the standard festival victuals that make my sweet tooth ache: chocolate covered bananas, cotton candy, crepes, toffee apples, and syrupy shaved ices. Finger food abounds, with grilled squid skewers and tako yaki (barbeque octopus dumpling balls) being my fuel of choice.

Relive my Sanja experience through these pictures.