Arasetsu 13 September 2024
Welcoming Autumn with Shochogama
Akina is two villages over. It is larger and more spread out than En and was historically the wealthiest village on the area. Whereas in En there is only just enough space for the village with a few small tankan plantations to fit between the mountains and the sea, Akina has quite a large open area for farming. There are even wet rice fields, which is unusual for Amami as a whole.
On Monday, the 9th of September by our calendar, but the 7th of August by the lunar calendar, it was “arestsu” (“new life), a day for marking the end of Summer and the start of Autumn. I had heard that in Akina, they hold an event called “shochogama” in which they construct a traditional lean-to shelter over night and then at dawn, the men of the village knock it down. I was intrigued to see what it would be like. Friends in Akina told us where to go and, more importantly, when to arrive.
We set off at 5:30 in the morning, but found the main community centre car park in Akina already filling up. Despite its size, Akina is usually pretty quiet, but the roads on the way to the site were bustling with people. My impression of shochogama is that although it is a ritual invocation of rice spirits as a form of harvest festival, people participate for fun in much the same way non-Christians enjoy Christmas. Still if felt ironic that shochogama takes place on hill just next to Akina’s church.
We went up the hill to get close to the hut. I had a vague idea I would try an inexpert video of the event to share with you, despite the day starting with pouring rain. In a sense, the event had already begun because we could hear a priest and a number of other men signing from on top of the hut. I think we had the impression that the more exicting - and hence videoable - part would have started rather earlier, so there was a lot of standing around.
At this point there was a call for more men to go and stand on the roof. I got the impression that a lot more weight was needed to get the building to fall down. Some men answered the call, but I was a little hesitant. I had no idea what would happen and normally you would not deliberately stand on top of a building that you knew was going to collapse. In the end, curiousity overcame my hesitation. I gave up the idea of making a video and headed for the roof.
Besides, if I am going to make this place my home, I should try to fit in, shouldn’t I?
The roof was made of straw. There were a couple of large ropes to help stabilise the roof and a few smaller ones that some people were holding on to. One of the organisers explained that, tempting though it might be to hold on to a large rope, the idea was that they would snap or be cut as the roof fell down. Holding one might not be all that safe.
So, increasing numbers of us stood and waited. The roof was steep so you had to brace yourself on one back foot and lean slightly forward to avoid falling over. It looked like people had come from all over Amami to take part. I saw a few people in the uniform of the Japan Self-Defence Force, which has a base in the hills to the West of Akina.
Next to me was, I deduced, a grandfather, father and child. The child was being carried by their father and must have been about two years old and not at all happy about the long wait. I was told afterwards that it is considered very lucky for young children to participate in Shochogama. The grandfather told me that it was his grandchild’s second time on the roof, so they were more experienced than I.
After quite a long wait, in which the priest and others continued to sing and occasionally beat a chijin the traditionoal drum), the priest came down off the roof with a tray on which were various items including some salt. A man holding standing at the very top of the roof holding a chijin turned to us and explained what it was we were supposed to do, gesticulating with his drumstick to make his meaning clearer. As far as I could tell, at some point we would be given the signal and then we would all make strong rocking movements to the right to shake the roof, all the while yelling “yora mera”. I think this means something like “knock it down”.
What I hadn’t appreciated was that we would have to do the rocking more than once. At the first signal everyone frantically shook the roof, but we were stopped after only a handful of shakes. The singing and drumming resumed for some minutes before the second round of “yora mera” after which the roof seemed as intact as ever. After a third unsuccesful round I was glad that I had not tried to video the event and asked the grandfather how long it usually took.
The grandfather beckoned several of us to the edge of the roof to look down at one of the huge pillars holding it up. You could see the ground around it rather churned up. Our efforts had obviously worked it a bit loose. He explained that it usually took only three attempts, but this time it was taking longer.
Sure enough we did it. On the fifth round of “yora mera” the pillars gave way and the entire roof collapsed to the ground. This was not nearly as alarming or dramatic as I had expected. Everyone was very pleased with themselves. Then, to my surprise, the drummers began to drum and it became obvious that we were all going to be dancing. Ritual dancing is another story entirely, but I had by this time enough experience of what to do that I could join in. Everyone was having enormous fun dancing around increasingly frantically, until the drummers eventually called a halt. We then yelled “banzai” three times and started to collect ourselves together for the journey back home.
At the bottom of the hill was a great crowd of people. I had recognised one person from En, but En had already had its own arasetsu celebration the previous day, which is a story to tell. Each village does seem to do its own thing, though En seems a bit more singular than the others along the coast. Going through the crowd, roughly half a dozen Akina people greeted me by name. I found it really encouraging that I have begun to get to know people two villages over as well as people in En.
Then home for some sleep. Autumn had been properly welcomed.