祭りと町

In the town where I live there is a summer festival that has continued for more than three hundred years. It is held on the last weekend of July every year, and the townspeople carry a large portable shrine and parade down the streets. For me as a child, this festival was the most anticipated event of the year. On the night before the festival, there is also an event at the shrine in the centre of town where each household lights a small lantern. Many people feel summer has come when they see these lights. However, over the past ten years or so, it has become difficult to continue the festival. The town's population has fallen, and in particular there are not enough young people to carry the shrine. It is not only that fewer people carry the shrine. Fewer people prepare for the festival, and the number of shops setting up stalls has fallen to less than half of what it once was. Last year the planned number of people did not gather, and the festival was held with the shrine at half its size. Mr Tanaka, who is in charge of the festival, said, "If things go on like this, the festival might disappear within a few years." So from this year the town's festival committee decided to try a new method. They recruited participants to carry the shrine from outside the town as well. When they called out on the internet, about thirty applications came in, including from outside the prefecture. They were a variety of people, such as company employees, university students and housewives, and some were international students from abroad. The committee decided to hold three practice sessions before the festival and teach them from the basics of carrying the shrine. At first, there were voices opposing it, saying "tradition is something to be protected only by local people." However, as opportunities were provided to teach participants carefully about the festival's history and how to carry the shrine, those voices decreased. At the practice sessions, local elderly people also told them about the hopes of the townspeople that are put into the shrine. An international student who actually took part said with a smile, "Carrying the shrine together with people I'd just met, I felt like I'd become a member of the town." On the day of the festival, more than twice as many people as last year gathered in town. The shrine returned to its original size, and loud shouts like those of the old days echoed through the streets. The children who came to watch also said with sparkling eyes, "Next year I want to carry it too." Perhaps protecting a festival doesn't mean only continuing it in the same form. I think that passing its spirit on to the next generation while welcoming new people is also an important form of succession.