Darvin Babiuk
People’s lives can change by the smallest of circumstances, turning left at an intersection instead of right, sitting beside an unknown person in a crowded lecture hall, filling in at work for a colleague while they go on vacation. My life changed when in my last semester of Graduate study, I saw an ad posted by the Japanese government to come work in the Land of the Rising Sun. The idea was that I’d have a bit of an adventure, make some money, and take the time to consider whether I wanted to get a Doctorate degree or not. Three decades years later, I was still doing it, finding a fertile niche working in post-secondary institutions and as a trainer for Oil and Gas operations in the Middle East, Central Asia and North Africa. As the Japanese proverb goes, I’d already eaten the poison, so I might as well lick the plate. I’ve lived under absolute monarchies, constitutional monarchies, a number of 'Presidents-for-Life,' civil wars, foreign military occupations and outright terrorist dictatorships. Along the way, I’ve played Duck, Duck, Goose with Japanese elementary school students; become a bit of a media celebrity for no earthly reason other than the accident of my birthplace; witnessed the aftermath of a crucifixion in Yemen; seriously thought I was about to be kidnapped for ransom; had three colleagues shot dead a football field away from where I was standing; was within spitting distance of where modern drone warfare was born, and commuted to work in an armoured convoy of Toyota Land Cruisers, wearing full body armour and accompanied by up to a half dozen armed private security members. So it began playing Duck, Duck, Goose and progressed to trying to avoid the terrorism, revolutions and uprisings.---There is an empty, sickening feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you realize that you’ve done something incredibly stupid and it is too late to do anything about it. I had that feeling now. I couldn’t think of a single reason why a strange, heavily armed man would so obviously be following me so openly. Until I thought about it. Tentatively, I paused, looked over my shoulder and gave a timid wave.Fertility festivals, are held in many parts of Japan in the spring. The most famous one is held in Komaki. The festival’s main features are Shinto priests playing musical instruments, a parade of ceremonially garbed participants, all-you-can-drink sake, and a giant, 620-pound, 96-inch, centuries-old wooden phallus carved out of cypress wood. Ceremonies begin at Tagata Shrine, itself home to a giant, phallic-shaped suzu bell. At 10:00 a.m., a procession of volunteers start handing out free cups of hot sake and dried seaweed to people along the parade route. Much sake is consumed. At nearby Kumano Shrine, giant banners showcasing genitalia, portable Shinto shrines and other religious palanquins are set out in preparation. Food carts are scattered over the parade route. Much sake is consumed. There are booths everywhere selling candies and trinkets shaped like male and female genitalia. The festival participants are dressed in traditional regalia. Many participants go so far as to dress up genitalia-related costumes. Much sake is consumed. At 2:00 p.m., the main procession begins moving from the Kumano to the Tagata shrine along the streets. Priests salt the road to purify the path for the mikoshi bearers. Much sake is consumed. The star of the procession is a giant wooden phallus carried on its own mikoshi. Much sake is consumed. Around 3:30 p.m., a crowd starts to gather in an open square for the final event of the day, local dignitaries throwing mochi rice balls from a raised platform to the festivalgoers. Much sake has been consumed.
