After flying back to Tokyo on December 30th, I met up with some friends in Tokyo for a “countdown” visit to Meiji Shrine. The first shrine visit of the year is “hatsumode” and since Meiji Shrine is the biggest one in Tokyo, it’s also the busiest.
The street leading to the shrine was lined with vendors selling street food, like okonimiyaki, yakisoba, amazake, and doner kebab. Very traditional, that kebab. Smelled delicious though, unlike the foully weird amazake we tried. Ick. As my throat was a little sore, I grabbed a star shaped lollipop to keep me busy as we waited in line.
As expected, even the crazy crowds were well managed, and unexpectedly, police and boy scouts were out in full force to guide people through. For some unhappy reason, the boy scouts were wearing short sleeved uniforms, and largely looked miserable. We witnessed them change shifts though, so at least they were taking turns at catching colds.
The way it worked, chunks of about 200 people each were separated by carriers of big signs that said “please wait” or “please walk.” At appropriate times, the sign carrier would turn the sign, and we would obediently shuffle or stop.
Even though we were in the middle of a huge crowd (group 8 of who knows how many) when midnight actually struck, things were surprisingly calm. We weren’t close enough to see into the actual shrine at midnight, but the organizers had kindly set up a big tv screen for us all to see the drum being hit (108 times for 108 sins?) by a serious looking priestly fellow. People exchanged congratulations and hugged each other, but it really wasn’t noisy at all. About ten seconds after the drumming started, some group of distant English speaking foreigners were heard counting “ten, nine, eight…woo!” but that was about it as far as ruckus.
This video illustrates the second-to-last-shuffle before we got to throw coins around. Apparently there was a weird guy at my elbow, but as I was busy video-ing, I fortuitously avoided noticing him.
Having tossed our own coins, we went shopping! Sort of. While there were tons of omamori on sale (luck charms for things like travel, love, study, wealth) to replace the previous year’s charms (which conveniently expire in a year and become un-lucky), most people, including us, just wanted to grab a fortune. To get the omikuji you shake a box and draw out a stick, which has a number. The attendant hands you the corresponding slip of paper, and off you go. The only problem is that these particular fortunes come in the form of classic poetry, meaning that even native Japanese speakers have difficulty deciphering them. With the help of a dictionary, and confirmation from a friend, my year is apparently meant to be a year of “silence,” in the sense that I should avoid overdoing things, especially words. Same thing my mom’s been telling me that from kindergarten. Sigh.
The best part of this whole experience? While taking my camera out of my pocket, I lost one of my gloves. Earlier I’d lost a pair to the JR counter, so I was a little annoyed and sad to also mess up my backup pair. But with the crowding, there was no way I could go backwards, let alone take time to inspect the ground (or even see it). My one slim hope was a ten second window as the crowd thinned between my wave of coin tossers and the next. That was assuming that I’d dropped it in the last ten feet, of course. Anything before that and, well…gone for good. As the people cleared, I hopefully scanned the gray stones for a swatch of black. Alas, no glove to be found. The next group was shuffling, eager to get their wishes in. A policewoman politely but firmly “encouraged” us all to exit. I turned in resigned despair, then noticed that in addition to a megaphone, the woman held a lone glove in one hand. Awesomeness. Glove recovered, bows, よã‹ã£ãŸï¼(Thank goodness!) and ã‚ã‚ŠãŒã¨ã†ï¼(Thank you!) exchanged, the cold somehow wasn’t quite so harsh anymore. Happy new year, folks.
