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Published: October 13th 2006
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The first kompai of the day
Here we are in Saijo, doing our first "kompai" (or cheers). Look how many foreign hands there are? I count six! It sounds trivial, but after being here for close to two months, it seems quite novel. Sorry, I know the title is lame and a bit too obvious... I just had to. This past weekend has been particularly eventful. I ate and drank more than I needed to. Here is an account of my time spent at the Saijo Sake Festival...
If you haven't had sake before, it is about time you tried! I have decided it is one of the more mystical alcoholic beverages. Just when you think you are ok, the sake takes over and plays its nasty tricks...
It was early Saturday afternoon and the infamous Saijo Sake Festival was in full swing. The small JET crew from Kure met at the train station, which I am finding often turns out to be the starting and ending point of any great adventure. Saijo is about an hour train ride away from Kure, which left ample "talk loudly on an otherwise quiet train" time with fellow foreigners. The poor locals must have thought we were taking over. Because I left for Japan later than most JETs, the trip from Kure to Saijo ended up feeling like my own private Hiroshima prefectural orientation. At each stop, a new small group of foreigners hopped
The Pour.
I can't count how many times I witnessed this scene. It is a small cup, but it sure adds up! on the train, shared the abbreviated version of who they are and why they love/hate their current teaching situation.
We arrived in Saijo around 2pm, and of course, the place was packed. I stepped off the train, and quickly realized that we were in foreigner territory... I saw more foreginers in this one place than I have in close to two months of living here. I guess sake, like alcohol in general, has a way of bringing people together.
The area was lined with food stands - deep fried everything, scewers, chocolate covered bananas, candy apples, wieners, seafood, more seafood - you name it, they had it! I tried to keep my money in my wallet and not fall prey to all the treats.
Finally, we arrived at the festival. For 1500 yen (which translates to about $14 Cdn. - can you believe it!!?) we were provided with a small sake cup and a booklet of sake choices from all over Japan. From there, festival goers were able to try any sake on the grounds and as much as they could handle without looking completey ridiculous. Each sake booth featured a region in Japan, and it seemed
Sake GALORE!
There was row upon row of sake at every booth. The hardest part about the day was deciding which one to try. (I know, I know... life is rough). each region had at least 100 different types of sake to try. As you can imagine, it was difficult to decide where to begin!
Because most of the gang knows little Japanese, and even less about sake, we ended up choosing sake based on numbers that seem important (sake #26 is not so great), or whichever line seemed the shortest. (Maybe not the best idea, but at the end of the evening it all seems to taste the same anyway).
At the festival I met even more foreigners than my initial train introductions... there were JETs from all over Japan, other English teachers, and American military. One guy had a bit of a 50 cent look going on, which was much welcomed considering for the past two months I have been surrounded by Japan's uber-stylish, somewhat effeminate fashion sense.
We were at the festival until 8pm, when the last drop of sake was poured. You would think that by this time the grounds would have resembled a high school safe grad. Fortunately, most everyone could still hold their own. I prepared ahead of time. Armed with a 2 litre bottle of water and pastries from my favorite
Sanjo Girls Sake
Here are my neighbours, sharing a sake moment. Keeley is on the left and hails from Florida. Julie is on the right, and is from England. I feel really lucky that I met these two. bakery, I managed to keep the sake/non-sake balance as close to equilibrium as possible.
Feeling a little worse for wear at the end of the night, we ventured out for food. It started to get suprisingly chilly (this is the first time I have felt chilled in this country), and it was time to go home even though it was relatively early. We all felt fine - certainly we were tired, cold, and a bit disheveled, but considering where the night could have gone, we were doing quite well.
After the long train ride home, the three Sanjo girls went their separate ways. (Three of us JETs live in the same area, called "Sanjo"). I drank some more water, and slept like a baby. The others were not so lucky. The next day, Julie from England reported waking up in the wee hours of the morning feeling as intoxicated as ever, stumbling around as she made her way to the washroom. The other Sanjo girl, who shall remain unnamed, reported waking up and seeing everything she had eaten for a second time that day. These two young gals are in their early 20s. And because one of them
Sake Supplier
At each booth there were about eight "sake suppliers" that kept the fun going by pouring sake for the festival goers. called me grandma, I speculate that my 26 year old liver (and wisdom) kept me from overdoing it.
In any case, it was decided that the sake is sneaky. You never know when it is going to turn on you.
Hope you enjoy the pics!
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Stew
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Learning
I must send you "The Buffalo Theory" It likely applies to sake as wel. Stew