Forbidden Dance

I'm just taking a quick break (while we give our customers some "down time") to post a few more photos from the past few days.

The snow started falling just in time for the new year, and by January 1st, we awoke to the scene below. I excitedly suggested that we allow the snow to build up on the Pug (our van) until we had to use it - this would be the easiest gauge of how much snow had fallen. I was assured by neighbors (and by seeing other cars with much more snow) that it would not collapse the roof, but what I did not anticipate was that, as the snow grew increasingly heavy and drooped to one side, it could fall and brake the passenger-side mirror off. Du-oh!

New Years day started with a yearly party at the kouminkan (citizen's hall - there is one in every village). The men started at 10:00, and the women at 1:00. I thought the reason was that the men need more time to drink and the women would join us in the afternoon, but it was just the opposite - if there is no deadline to get out so the women can come, the men will sit there and drink all day. Luckily, I was invited to a neighbors house to continue with some of the other men, once the women had taken control of the hall.

I and another villager decided to crash the women's party, but soon we had to leave as they were preparing to do a dance that, I was told by my partner in crime, "men can not see". Later, Tomoe came home and told me of the strange dance that ended the party. The women formed a circle and sang a song about how dear and precious their husbands are. The dance includes grabbing their breasts and crotch. The way she tells it, it sounds like something you would see in a horror movie when an unsuspecting couple moves into a neighborhood where everyone is a cult-member or somehow possessed.

Januray 2nd was spent cleaning the house for our guests who would come on the 3rd. Two hours of sleep and LOTS of coffee make for slightly nauseating day. Even the two hours I lay in bed I could barely sleep as I was worried about the predicted bad weather, and how we would spend the day if we could not head into the mountains for kanjiki snowshoe walking. It was cloudy until about 9am when it miraculously cleared up and we were able to take the ski-lift up for another amazing view.

The big difference between this time and the time Tomoe and I went to check the course, was a meter of fresh snow. Even walking from the station to the lift took more than twice as long in above-knee-deep snow. Once we got to the top of the lift, we (I) was so tired that we only made it about 400 meters into the mountains before deciding it was the "perfect" place for lunch (and to call it a day).

The usual way to walk with kanjiki as a group is to take turns in the lead. The difference in energy needed to plow through waist-deep snow, and the energy needed to be the fourth or fifth person to walk through a pre-made trail is enormous. In some cases it would not be strange to take as few as ten or fifteen steps before stepping aside and joining the group at the end of the line. This time, however, I was with two customers, and Tomoe - all women. Not to be sexists, but after having them taking the lead for admirable distances, in the end, I was the designated "plow boy". I have no idea how the traditional roaming matagi hunters of old every did it on their own.

Today we went to Akiyamago again. This time it was a real adventure - at least for me (the driver). The snow fell all day and the road was a challenge. While I have driven roads much more slippery, they never had a 100 meter cliff (and no guard rail). We made it there and back in one piece, in time for a bath and great dinner (I wonder why Tomoe doesn't spend so much time when it is just me eating).

Tomorrow is a big day. Some of the neighbors are coming over in the morning to make tofu and natto. A reporter from Kura magazine is also coming to take some photos for the next edition. We should probably clean, but we figure that with this house there is little we can do, it's really all up to the photographer to work some magic. Judging from some of his previous work, I trust him to make us look better than we really are.