Day 62: Reversal of fortunes
Yesterday was not a great day, and salvaged only by the kindness of a local man I met on the road - in incredibly literal terms, standing on the road.
Today I woke up a little late and my energy was low after going through the ringer yesterday. I kept my plans modest, a trip to a nearby castle grounds to stretch my legs, then relax for the rest of the day.
However, after yesterday's misfortunes, the universe flipped things on its head and served me up an unexpected day of non-stop smiles and a lot of laughs, and a short spell of stepping outside myself for good measure.
I set out this morning and headed down stairs to find breakfast. On the way down stairs I was greeted with an old familiar feeling; sharp pain in my right knee. Seems all my running and such yesterday did my knee injury no favours.
Thankfully, these pains dull over the course of the morning once things warm up, and today was no exception. So I was still good to go.
I walked in the direction of the castle grounds, a short walk from my hostel, through the busy downtown streets of Shizuoka. As I checked my map I noticed a small point of interest indicated across the street from the grounds I was headed to; an observation deck on the 21st floor of the local prefecture's office building.
Detouring away from the crowds flocking to the castle park, I walked down an empty street to a lonely tower. I was greeted by a friendly security guard, who, after a broken back and forth with me, smiled and pointed me towards an elevator in the back of the lobby, holding up his fingers to indicate a 2 - 1. Having the confirmation this was the right building I smiled back, thanked him and made my way up to the 21st floor.
When I arrived at the observation deck I was thrilled to discover the whole floor of the building was dedicated to viewing the city, and massive banks windows looking out of all sides of the building were accessible.
It was from this floor that I was able to see a couple of things that were of importance for the day.
I lingered for a while, enjoying the view, as I had the entire floor all to myself. Evidently everyone else was already down in the castle grounds enjoying some sort of festival. I could see the activity was bustling, so I headed down to the castle grounds to check it out for myself.
Before I even made it to the festival, I couldn't resist the alure of a getting to tour inside the castle gates, which had been turned into a museum to the castle itself.
After my tour was finished I headed deeper into the grounds in search of the tents and crowds I had seen from above. It wouldn't take long before I was surrounded by countless stalls cooking all manner of food, filling the air with delicious aromas.
As I wandered through the first group of tents I noticed that there was a stage setup in the middle, with someone dancing for the crowd. This wasn't my usual experience with festivals, but I am far from an expert and kept exploring not thinking too much about it.
A few minutes later, deeper into the grounds, down path I hear music and see a gathering of people. Intrigued I went over to see what was happening and found a pair of acrobatic performers, and foreigners no less!
"This festival must make a lot of money to hire in entertainment from abroad" I thought to myself as I watched. My mind was not yet able to comprehend what was actually going on around me.
Moving on I continued to explore the grounds. More food tents, and now a third stage with a sizable crowd already gathered. And something struck me, a lot of people had come well prepared...
As I watched this performance I notice the backdrop was labelled "Daidogei World Cup". This changed my thinking about the event I was in the middle of. It wasn't an autumn festival, it was some sort of celebration for a sporting event I was completely unfamiliar with.
Given that Japan has also been hosting the Rugby World Cup during my time here, this is a natural conclusion to jump to. Flawed, I would later come to understand, but natural none the less.
Eventually I would leave the grounds, and my plans for the day were exhausted. But the festivities left me in a cheerful mood, and I didn't want to go back to my hostel. So instead I just let the wind push me, wandering through Shizuoka.
Walking through the streets there was so many clowns and costumed performers mingling with pedestrians, and the roads were choked with areas roped off for performances happening to small audiences.
I stopped for a rest on a bench, and watched a group of clowns interact with passerbys. After a few minutes I couldn't help but ask for a photo with them.
I was really getting into the mood of the day, and enjoying the amazing number and variety of performers all through the streets of Shizuoka. From acrobats to jugglers, musicians to performance artists. Each corner turned brought me to another unexpected performance that made me smile.
Before long I found myself approaching a crowd that had formed well in advance of a performer starting, and was able to find a spot near the front but off the the side. I leaned against a large stone plant potter and waited with the crowd for the show.
As I waited, noticed that a few people were carrying programs labeled with that same name: 'Daidogei'.
Now, you may be reading this and, unlike me at the time, had the presence of mind to Google Daidogei when I first mentioned seeing it. Something I could, and should, have done at that earlier moment in time. But I was running on autopilot, and it was only after seeing these thick, professionally printed programs that my mind finally sprang into action.
For those of you who sprung into action sooner, congratulations. Chance are you, like me sitting on that plant potter, came to realize that all these performers weren't there to celebrate some sporting world cup - they WERE the world cup.
For the last few hours I had been blissfully unaware of the fact that I was smack in the middle of a huge event that was spread throughout the downtown core of Shizuoka. And with that realization I appreciated my luck even more.
No sooner than I had made this discovery the show began, and a woman in a blue jumpsuit took to the street.
Her act was probably technically a pantomime, but it was far more of a comedy performance than I had ever seen a mine give.
I was completely taken in, enjoying her routine and drawn in by her incredible use of both her body and facial expressions to tell stories.
With each new stage to her act she would display a sign to the crowd which I assumed described what was coming next, but given the language barrier, couldn't say for sure. As her last piece began, she showed her sign for the final time, and this one was greeted with loud woops and cheers from the audience as they read it.
Here is where my photos stoped and a moment of surrealism began. Bear with me as I try to explain what happened next.
As the music began to play, she reached into her collection of props and put on a kabuki mask, then began a slow and methodical dance.
She finished the routine and the music continued. She froze and stared at an audience member, then walked straight into the crowd towards the man sitting on the ground. She reached up and took off her mask, only to reveal she was wearing an identical one below it, and put the now removed mask on the man's face and pulled him up on to the street.
She motioned to him and then restarted the dance. The audience member now turned dancer followed along well. I wondered if he was a plant on the audience for her show, as he seemed to know the dance very well for a random person in the crowd.
The dance ended, and she motioned for him to remain. Then turned back to the audience and walked towards a woman near the front, again removing her mask to reveal another underneath and masking the woman.
I expected the sequence to resume with another dance, but instead she pivoted around sharply and her gaze fell on me from across the road. She walked toward me with the same menacingly still face.
Standing directly in front of me she once again removed her mask to reveal yet another underneath. Without a word she took my glasses off my face and stashed them in the pack on her waist before quickly masking me, taking my hand and leading me into the street to join the other two waiting there for her.
Between the loss of my glasses, and the tiny eyeholes in my new mask, I could hardly see a thing, but I did my best to follow along. Thankfully I am not one who is easily embarrassed, and I am on this journey of mine to change who I am, and zo the dance began again and I followed along without hesitation.
Any thoughts about the first audience member being a plant quickly evaporated. The laughter and cheers that only moments ago I had helped to provide, I was now helping to create.
I constantly looked over my shoulder and tried to follow her practiced lead, but it was nearly impossible, and designed to create chaos and humour, and frankly it was just a lot of fun being silly and getting laughs and applause along the way.
Each time the dance would near its ended choreographed sequence, a frantic moment of wild dance would happen, and now I was a part of wild dance as well. It was manic and half-blind on a cobblestone street. I bumped into a fellow dancer more than once and couldn't stop laughing under my mask.
The sequence ended and a new twist was added. She reached into her collection of props and produced a stack of new kabuki masks and handed us each one. Wordlessly we knew that we were each tasked to recruit a new dancer, and once we had, the whole sequence began.
The already small street was now packed with unwitting dancers, and we repeated the whole sequence a final time before following our leader as we danced off in a line through the crowd and down the street to huge applause.
After we all danced away through the crowd she led us all back and we stood in a line and took a bow, once and then again, all of us still wearing our masks. Then, one by once she came down the line removing our masks. Each person was regarded with a long pause and then their hair was tussled.
When she arrived in front of me, I looked down and she reached up and removed my mask, gently placed my glasses back on my face, patted me on the head and then slowly stroked my beard and gave me a broad smile.
It was fantastic.
I appreciate that this description is likely a jumbled mess and hard to follow, as it feels that way in my head, so I have found video of her (she performs under the name Kano Mami) doing this routine. When you watch it, just replace once of the dancers with a goofy white guy with a red beard jutting out from under the mask!
After all the dancers had been demasked and sent away, she brought out her collection plate, the lid to the grey plastic trash can on wheels that held her props, and the crowd lined up to fill the thing with coins and bills.
There is a deep appreciation from those who come to this festival for the efforts of the performers, and at each show I was surprised to see how freely they would give to a performer at the end of their show. But I was struck by the generosity at this show specifically, with her lid overflowing with ¥1000 notes (~$10) and heavy with coins. It took the line of admirers nearly 15 minutes to finish coming up to give money.
I waited until she had packed up and left the stage area before I approached, as there was one thing I truly wanted: photographic evidence, and she was happy to provide!
This was without a doubt the most unreal experience I have had during my time here to date, and I know this to be the case because for about the next two hours afterwards I was still grinning and muttering "unreal" to myself.
Performances carried on well into the evening, and I witnessed many more fantastic acts, but none would be able to surpass this one.
I finish my day now, packing up and making ready to walk to Fuji tomorrow.
Where this time last night I was stressed and in tatters mentally, tonight I am rejuvenated and ready to take my next step forwards!
Today I woke up a little late and my energy was low after going through the ringer yesterday. I kept my plans modest, a trip to a nearby castle grounds to stretch my legs, then relax for the rest of the day.
However, after yesterday's misfortunes, the universe flipped things on its head and served me up an unexpected day of non-stop smiles and a lot of laughs, and a short spell of stepping outside myself for good measure.
"Actually, let's reverse things" --The Universe.
I set out this morning and headed down stairs to find breakfast. On the way down stairs I was greeted with an old familiar feeling; sharp pain in my right knee. Seems all my running and such yesterday did my knee injury no favours.
Thankfully, these pains dull over the course of the morning once things warm up, and today was no exception. So I was still good to go.
I walked in the direction of the castle grounds, a short walk from my hostel, through the busy downtown streets of Shizuoka. As I checked my map I noticed a small point of interest indicated across the street from the grounds I was headed to; an observation deck on the 21st floor of the local prefecture's office building.
Detouring away from the crowds flocking to the castle park, I walked down an empty street to a lonely tower. I was greeted by a friendly security guard, who, after a broken back and forth with me, smiled and pointed me towards an elevator in the back of the lobby, holding up his fingers to indicate a 2 - 1. Having the confirmation this was the right building I smiled back, thanked him and made my way up to the 21st floor.
When I arrived at the observation deck I was thrilled to discover the whole floor of the building was dedicated to viewing the city, and massive banks windows looking out of all sides of the building were accessible.
It was from this floor that I was able to see a couple of things that were of importance for the day.
My first glimpse of Fuji San. The clouds have hidden it for days.
The castle grounds, filled with people and tents. Perhaps today was another autumn festival?
Before I even made it to the festival, I couldn't resist the alure of a getting to tour inside the castle gates, which had been turned into a museum to the castle itself.
At ¥200 it's hard to go wrong with a castle tour. So many cool things to see!
After my tour was finished I headed deeper into the grounds in search of the tents and crowds I had seen from above. It wouldn't take long before I was surrounded by countless stalls cooking all manner of food, filling the air with delicious aromas.
As I wandered through the first group of tents I noticed that there was a stage setup in the middle, with someone dancing for the crowd. This wasn't my usual experience with festivals, but I am far from an expert and kept exploring not thinking too much about it.
A few minutes later, deeper into the grounds, down path I hear music and see a gathering of people. Intrigued I went over to see what was happening and found a pair of acrobatic performers, and foreigners no less!
"This festival must make a lot of money to hire in entertainment from abroad" I thought to myself as I watched. My mind was not yet able to comprehend what was actually going on around me.
Moving on I continued to explore the grounds. More food tents, and now a third stage with a sizable crowd already gathered. And something struck me, a lot of people had come well prepared...
Bringing your own step ladder to a festival was a new one on me.
As I watched this performance I notice the backdrop was labelled "Daidogei World Cup". This changed my thinking about the event I was in the middle of. It wasn't an autumn festival, it was some sort of celebration for a sporting event I was completely unfamiliar with.
Given that Japan has also been hosting the Rugby World Cup during my time here, this is a natural conclusion to jump to. Flawed, I would later come to understand, but natural none the less.
Eventually I would leave the grounds, and my plans for the day were exhausted. But the festivities left me in a cheerful mood, and I didn't want to go back to my hostel. So instead I just let the wind push me, wandering through Shizuoka.
Walking through the streets there was so many clowns and costumed performers mingling with pedestrians, and the roads were choked with areas roped off for performances happening to small audiences.
Playing Jenga with a living statue, as one does.
I stopped for a rest on a bench, and watched a group of clowns interact with passerbys. After a few minutes I couldn't help but ask for a photo with them.
Before long I found myself approaching a crowd that had formed well in advance of a performer starting, and was able to find a spot near the front but off the the side. I leaned against a large stone plant potter and waited with the crowd for the show.
As I waited, noticed that a few people were carrying programs labeled with that same name: 'Daidogei'.
Now, you may be reading this and, unlike me at the time, had the presence of mind to Google Daidogei when I first mentioned seeing it. Something I could, and should, have done at that earlier moment in time. But I was running on autopilot, and it was only after seeing these thick, professionally printed programs that my mind finally sprang into action.
For those of you who sprung into action sooner, congratulations. Chance are you, like me sitting on that plant potter, came to realize that all these performers weren't there to celebrate some sporting world cup - they WERE the world cup.
For the last few hours I had been blissfully unaware of the fact that I was smack in the middle of a huge event that was spread throughout the downtown core of Shizuoka. And with that realization I appreciated my luck even more.
No sooner than I had made this discovery the show began, and a woman in a blue jumpsuit took to the street.
...Literally.
Her act was probably technically a pantomime, but it was far more of a comedy performance than I had ever seen a mine give.
I was completely taken in, enjoying her routine and drawn in by her incredible use of both her body and facial expressions to tell stories.
With each new stage to her act she would display a sign to the crowd which I assumed described what was coming next, but given the language barrier, couldn't say for sure. As her last piece began, she showed her sign for the final time, and this one was greeted with loud woops and cheers from the audience as they read it.
Here is where my photos stoped and a moment of surrealism began. Bear with me as I try to explain what happened next.
As the music began to play, she reached into her collection of props and put on a kabuki mask, then began a slow and methodical dance.
She finished the routine and the music continued. She froze and stared at an audience member, then walked straight into the crowd towards the man sitting on the ground. She reached up and took off her mask, only to reveal she was wearing an identical one below it, and put the now removed mask on the man's face and pulled him up on to the street.
She motioned to him and then restarted the dance. The audience member now turned dancer followed along well. I wondered if he was a plant on the audience for her show, as he seemed to know the dance very well for a random person in the crowd.
The dance ended, and she motioned for him to remain. Then turned back to the audience and walked towards a woman near the front, again removing her mask to reveal another underneath and masking the woman.
I expected the sequence to resume with another dance, but instead she pivoted around sharply and her gaze fell on me from across the road. She walked toward me with the same menacingly still face.
Standing directly in front of me she once again removed her mask to reveal yet another underneath. Without a word she took my glasses off my face and stashed them in the pack on her waist before quickly masking me, taking my hand and leading me into the street to join the other two waiting there for her.
Between the loss of my glasses, and the tiny eyeholes in my new mask, I could hardly see a thing, but I did my best to follow along. Thankfully I am not one who is easily embarrassed, and I am on this journey of mine to change who I am, and zo the dance began again and I followed along without hesitation.
Any thoughts about the first audience member being a plant quickly evaporated. The laughter and cheers that only moments ago I had helped to provide, I was now helping to create.
I constantly looked over my shoulder and tried to follow her practiced lead, but it was nearly impossible, and designed to create chaos and humour, and frankly it was just a lot of fun being silly and getting laughs and applause along the way.
Each time the dance would near its ended choreographed sequence, a frantic moment of wild dance would happen, and now I was a part of wild dance as well. It was manic and half-blind on a cobblestone street. I bumped into a fellow dancer more than once and couldn't stop laughing under my mask.
The sequence ended and a new twist was added. She reached into her collection of props and produced a stack of new kabuki masks and handed us each one. Wordlessly we knew that we were each tasked to recruit a new dancer, and once we had, the whole sequence began.
The already small street was now packed with unwitting dancers, and we repeated the whole sequence a final time before following our leader as we danced off in a line through the crowd and down the street to huge applause.
After we all danced away through the crowd she led us all back and we stood in a line and took a bow, once and then again, all of us still wearing our masks. Then, one by once she came down the line removing our masks. Each person was regarded with a long pause and then their hair was tussled.
When she arrived in front of me, I looked down and she reached up and removed my mask, gently placed my glasses back on my face, patted me on the head and then slowly stroked my beard and gave me a broad smile.
It was fantastic.
I appreciate that this description is likely a jumbled mess and hard to follow, as it feels that way in my head, so I have found video of her (she performs under the name Kano Mami) doing this routine. When you watch it, just replace once of the dancers with a goofy white guy with a red beard jutting out from under the mask!
After all the dancers had been demasked and sent away, she brought out her collection plate, the lid to the grey plastic trash can on wheels that held her props, and the crowd lined up to fill the thing with coins and bills.
There is a deep appreciation from those who come to this festival for the efforts of the performers, and at each show I was surprised to see how freely they would give to a performer at the end of their show. But I was struck by the generosity at this show specifically, with her lid overflowing with ¥1000 notes (~$10) and heavy with coins. It took the line of admirers nearly 15 minutes to finish coming up to give money.
I waited until she had packed up and left the stage area before I approached, as there was one thing I truly wanted: photographic evidence, and she was happy to provide!
This was without a doubt the most unreal experience I have had during my time here to date, and I know this to be the case because for about the next two hours afterwards I was still grinning and muttering "unreal" to myself.
Performances carried on well into the evening, and I witnessed many more fantastic acts, but none would be able to surpass this one.
I finish my day now, packing up and making ready to walk to Fuji tomorrow.
Where this time last night I was stressed and in tatters mentally, tonight I am rejuvenated and ready to take my next step forwards!
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