When Carp Become Dragons

Today is Children's Day in Japan. Our whole family got up early and jumped in the car to catch the famous koinobori (carp streamer) festival in the city of Kazo, in northwestern Saitama Prefecture. Every year on May 5th, the people of Kazo fly the biggest carp streamer in the world.

The early morning air was just a bit chilly, but the clear blue sky above put us in high spirits. After we passed through the city of Konosu, the scenery became very rural, with rice fields on either side of the road. Farmhouses dotted the landscape, rice seedlings were planted in neat rows in flooded paddies, wisteria vines were sprouting their first tender green leaves of spring, and eager tips of grass were just beginning to push up through the sleepy spring soil. A skilled artist would have been hard pressed to paint a more bucolic picture. Hung out in front of many of the farmhouses were brightly colored carp streamers, with the carp's golden scales glittering against backgrounds of black, red, blue, purple, green, orange. . . . The gay streamers fluttering in the breeze against a wide open sky only intensified the feeling of spring in the air.

Japan's Children's Day began over 2,000 years ago in ancient China. Known in Chinese as duanwujie (and in English as the Dragon Boat Festival), it is still celebrated by the Chinese as well. The Japanese festival, however, has diverged from its Chinese predecessor in many ways. While the name tango no sekku is still used, and is written with the same characters as in Chinese, the festival is more commonly known these days in Japan as Children's Day, and is generally thought of primarily as a festival for boys. The custom of observing tango no sekku was borrowed from China during the Nara period (708-792 AD). The festival was originally celebrated in both Japan and China on the fifth day of the fifth lunar month, at the transition from spring to summer, when infectious diseases and poisonous insects came out in force. Every household would weave grass into the likeness of a tiger or a human being, and would fashion iris leaves into a sword. These would then be displayed in front of the home to ward off bad fortune and evil spirits. The people of ancient Japan would also gather medicinal herbs to prevent illness. These customs remain alive today. The Japanese have a May 5th custom of eating kashiwamochi (rice cakes filled with sweet bean paste and wrapped in oak leaves) and soaking in a hot tub or hot spring filled with iris leaves. Although the Japanese do eat the zongzi (rice dumplings) with which we Chinese mark this festival, hardly anyone knows the story that connects these zongzi to dragon boat racing. Not knowing this story, the Japanese naturally don't carry out dragon boat races, as we Chinese do.

It was at some point during the Edo period (1607-1867) that tango no sekku came to be seen as a festival for boys. Families with male children began to use the festival as a chance to pray that their sons would grow up strong and brave. As an expression of their wishes, they took to displaying statues dressed in the armor worn by medieval Japanese warriors. In addition to medieval armor, the iris is another symbol of the festival. That is because the Japanese word for iris (shobu) is a homonym for the phrase meaning "respect for military values." And, of course, there are the carp streamers. The connection between Children's Day and carp traces to an ancient Chinese legend. As the story goes, carp swim up the Yellow River every year in late spring in an attempt to ascend the roaring cataracts at Longmen. The carp that make it to the top of the cataracts turn into dragons. Inspired by the story, merchants in the city of Edo (modern-day Tokyo) began to hang long flowing carp streamers outside their homes to symbolize the hope that their sons, like the legendary carp, would battle their way upstream in an effort to become something extraordinary. The streamers are used to celebrate the birth of a boy. Now, many generations later, these streamers have come to be flown primarily around the time of Children's Day.

About 30 minutes or so past Konosu we finally reached the Tonegawa River. There, along a two-kilometer stretch of riverbank, we found a huge gathering of over 1,000 vehicles and more than 10,000 visitors. Although the riverbank offered quite a bit of space, it was still extremely crowded. Over 100 carp streamers fluttered in the air over a bright yellow rapeseed field about the size of five or six football fields. The concrete levee rose in stair-step fashion from the floodplain, forming a perfect grandstand for the visitors. Families were picnicking there with their children, with folding chairs and picnic tables laid with lunch boxes and drinks. While the adults lounged around chatting, the children scrambled up and down the levee, now strafing the fruit seller's stand on the next step up, now dallying at the booth selling candy and toys one step below. Known officially as the Citizens' Peace Festival, the carp streamer celebration is held every year around the time of Children's Day. Activities today got started early in the morning. Among other events, there was folk dancing, singing of popular ballads (enka), and a puppet show featuring Pikachu and the rest of the cast from the popular Pocket Monsters cartoon show. The highlight, of course, was the raising of the gigantic carp streamer.

At 11:30 a.m., the 110-meter streamer was in place, as was a huge construction crane with a 100-meter jib. The jib began climbing slowly higher, feeding out cable as it rose. The carp's head lifted off the ground, sending a charge of excitement through the crowd. The mouth of the carp measured six meters in diameter! The jib reached full height, and the crane operator began to reel in the cable. As the cable shortened, the streamer rose higher, gradually lifting its body off the ground. The breeze began to fill the carp. Just as it was about time for the tail to lift off the ground, the crowd began singing the koinobori song, which most Japanese people learn as children. With thousands of voices raised in unison, the tail left the ground, and it seemed for an instant as if the 750-kilo carp were truly striving to make it to the top of the cataracts at Longmen. Thinking to myself, "Go carp, go!," I began to sing along with the crowd: "Carp streamers, carp streamers, higher than the rooftops. The big black one's a father. The small red ones are children. Swimming together so happily, so happily!"

After a 20-minute frolic in the breeze, the huge carp streamer was brought back down to earth by a team of over ten men. The crowd began to disperse. We, too, went to our car and drove back home. On the way back, I kept thinking about the carp streamer. They say it's the largest in the world, and it took over 2,000 people more than three months to make. The spectacle of thousands of people waiting with bated breath for a carp streamer to take to the sky is one that you will only find among people who are proud of the their nation and their culture. There was something very moving about the earnest air of the occasion and the satisfaction of it. That feeling is not something I will soon forget.

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This 110m carp streamer is reportedly the largest in the world. A huge construction crane is required to lift it into air.

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Carp streamers huanging outside this famhouse symbolize the family's hope that its boys will meet wity success in life.

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Over 100 carp streamers flutter above a rapeseed field next to the river, where the Citizens' Peace Festival is held every year. This is one of Japan's most famous Children's Day celebrations.

Over 100 carp streamers flutter above a rapeseed field next to the river, where the Citizens' Peace Festival is held every year. This is one of Japan's most famous Children's Day celebrations.