Before I dive into the content of this post, I'd like to give some background. In Japan, I was surprised to learn, there is a very strong festival culture in schools. As early as nursery school, most schools hold cultural festivals, or bunkasai, an annual event which continues through the levels of Japan's education system, even into university (of course, I'm assuming a nursery school cultural festival is a lot different from a university one). Once students are old enough, perhaps around junior high school, these festivals become primarily student-driven projects. Students work together to create various events, exhibitions, and attractions for the festival.
October 7th and 8th marked the days of the 15th Akita International University (AIU) Festival. Being peripherally involved in the festival preparations and seeing all the students work towards the festival's successful execution, I learned certain things that shocked me.
First, there was a group of students responsible for raising funds from corporate sponsors. That's right; the school festivals in Japan can have corporate sponsors. What's even more impressive is how much they were able to raise from sponsors: 1,203,210 yen. If the online yen to dollars conversion system I used is reliable, that's over 10,000 dollars!
Secondly, preparation for school festivals starts early in advance. The preparations for the AIU festival started as early as April 2018--six months beforehand. It makes sense, given the scope and ambition of the festival. Festivals aren't just fun events; they are serious undertakings, culminations of students' determination, planning, and passion.
Third, festivals aren't just for students, or even just for the school. They are important events for the community. Many organizations outside the school contribute to the festival, and many people from outside the school come and enjoy it. At the AIU Festival, I'd say there were just as many visitors as there were students! People went to eat at food stands, see performances, practice English, and in general have a good time by themselves, with friends, or with family. Some companies set up food stands to sell their products, and others sponsored large events at the festival, providing prizes for contests.
I'll stop here, because there's a lot more to say about the festival that I couldn't even begin to imagine. Preparations started six months ago and I haven't even been here for two. So much went into making the 15th AIU Festival that I never experienced and can't possibly understand, but through my time at AIU so far, I've experienced enough to understand my lack of experience, and I certainly learned enough to be amazed by all the hard work of the Japanese students. I honestly couldn't imagine a student-led event of such intense dedication and scale at my college. Not to bash unnecessarily on me and my fellow Americans; after all, the festival culture simply isn't present in America. We have no widespread cultural norms that encourage anything like the festivals of Japanese schools. Yet, in my limited experience, it seems that these festivals aren't just a product of Japanese society; they are made possible by teamwork, creativity, and a passion to create something truly unique and personal--and these all span beyond national and cultural borders.
I certainly enjoyed my experience of AIU's 15th Festival. There were so many attractions and activities that I only experienced less than half of the festival, but I still felt very fulfilled!
I participated in a program to help teach English to people of all ages; I spoke and worked with all sorts of people, from senior citizens to two-year olds, and had more fun than I could have imagined. I went to a haunted house event that, despite only occupying two classrooms and taking place in the middle of the day, managed to freak me out a little (and I used to watch horror movies weekly with my best friend). I got to see a Kanto performance at night, an experience no video can truly do justice, but here's one anyway:
I got to see fireworks in Japan, something that has, time and time again, been dramatized and emotionally charged in Japanese animation, making it a one-of-a-kind experience for an American who has long immersed himself in anime. Sadly, I didn't even capture the best part: near the end of the show, they set off fireworks that spelled out the letters A, I, and U.
And then there were the food stands. The food stands were truly incredible, a physical representation of the sheer scope of the festival. The stands spread from the front entrance of the school past multiple class buildings, where students had set up food stands along with companies and groups outside of AIU. They sold everything from hamburgers to taiyaki (round cakes with filling, typically sweet red bean paste, that are shaped like fish).
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Taiyaki! I was hungry, so I bit the head off before taking a picture
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All the while, I saw Japanese students (and some international students too) running around in their white hoodies, which marked them as members of the various committees established to plan the festival. Their work never seemed to be done; you could see them planning, preparing, and overseeing most of the festival most of the time.
Yet the moment that made me realize how meaningful the AIU Festival is came at the end. On October 8th, when all the events of the day had come to an end and the food stands shut down, all that remained was the closing ceremony. There, students put on a performance, announced the winners of the various major contests, and brought the festival to a close with a speech from the festival committee's president and a commemorative video.
As I watched the students perform and present, understanding perhaps 3% of the Japanese and thankful that, for the most part, they always had an English translator, I started to feel something that words couldn't convey. I realized that the AIU Festival, every single year, is a labor of love. It's not just an important Japanese tradition or a way to interact with the local community. The students at AIU pour their hearts into this festival.
The theme of this year's festival was 'Color Your Color,' the meaning being that each student would be able to show their true color at the festival. It was to be a celebration of the unique personality of ever student--a surprisingly individualistic theme for a country known for its heavily group-oriented culture. The students behind the festival showed their colors, too: their passion, determination, and shared purpose in creating, as a group, something that would reflect the diverse array of people at AIU.
So much emotion was packed into the closing ceremony. It was happy, yes, but also somewhat bittersweet. The students' efforts paid off, and because of that we were treated to an incredible experience. But when something you put so much heart into finally ends, there are bound to be strong emotions--not just the typical feelings of joy and achievement, but also of sadness. Sadness because it's over, because for six months this festival had taken so much space in the lives of the students, and just like that it ended--a mere two days for months of hard work and anticipation. It was that bittersweet feeling that made me realize just how important the festival is to all the students involved, and just how strongly the creation of this festival served to create a shared purpose and sense of camaraderie.
Of course, like with most things in Japan, I can only begin to scratch the surface of understanding. I can't possibly know what the AIU students felt like, watching all their heartfelt dedication and hard work pay off and then fade into memory, but I can infer based on what I felt during the closing ceremony. And perhaps I wouldn't be so awed if America had a similar festival culture, but it doesn't, and so I had to go all the way across the world to have this experience.
To simplify everything I've tried to convey in this post: On October 7th and 8th, I found yet another reason, despite the difficulties, that I made the right choice in coming here. I didn't just witness something very Japanese--I witnessed something very human, and in a way I might not have experienced back home.
Typically, I like to coat my posts with realism and caution, because typically I have something to be cautious about: my Japanese ability, my adjustment to a different culture, my personal worries and feelings about being in Japan, and the list goes on. But for this post, I wanted to do something a little different, because this was an experience that was so much bigger than me, yet one that I nonetheless wanted to try and put into words. I wanted to make sure that the 15th AIU Festival lives on in memory, in the only way I can. It's the least I can do to show gratitude to the students who worked so hard to pull it off.
