This afternoon I finally managed to attend the Brazilian festival in Yoyogi Park, as after having its way with my washing on Friday night, the Typhoon had (as expected) petered out into nothingness. The festival was a lot of fun, and it was grey to see everyone getting involved; there were even Obaasan’s up on stage doing the samba with lithe Brazilian 20 somethings. The only slight complication was when I had to try to explain to one very happy Brazilian man that whilst I was touched by the offer, I wouldn’t be able to drink any of his moonshine because I am teetotal, and value my eyesight. I think he understood, but he didn’t seem too impressed.
Throughout the day I had seen children parading through the streets of Tokyo carrying a small shrine lofted above their shoulders, whilst their parents shouted encouragement, and slowly moved them through the streets like a heard of very small, and increasingly weary cattle. Rather than being some bizarre form of corporal punishment, it was actually a precursor to the evening’s activities, which from what I could make out consisted of the adults getting very drunk and carrying a larger shrine through the streets of Tokyo. The children were conspicuous by the absence.