This weekend there are a lot of omatsuri festivals in Tokyo. We visited one of the largest last night, which the husband and his siblings attended as children. Last year, we saw portable shrine carrying, and one super hot policeman. This year was quieter, with fun street food and lots of yankiis.
In addition to savory pancakes, yakisoba, shwarma, beer, a strange sweet on an ice block, one omatsuri tradition is chocolate covered bananas with sprinkles. Somehow this image confirms every foreigners’ image of Tokyo, combining kawaii, moe and moe.
On a weekday afternoon, Tokyo Dome was alive with two groups of contiguous but not intersecting fans. On the upper level were hundreds of girls who had arrived hours early to watch a Johnny’s boy band called Katun. On the lower deck, hundreds of ojiisan (old guys) stand transfixed watching horse races on video screens and consulting their newspapers for betting stats.
I love the fan’s fan. Both groups have a similar intensity of purpose, no?
And the contrast between the girls’ “kawaii” fashions and the older gents’ uniforms of caps, muted colored slacks and jackets. There seems to be a group for everyone in Tokyo.
For no particular occasion, my father-in-law (ぎりのお父さん) gave me this super-kawaii (かわいい）pig keychain. When you push the button on his head, he snorts and lights a beam. He’s my new friend. Thanks, dad!