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Dance of Joy : Obon Festival Lures Hundreds to Buddhist Temple Celebration

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Times Staff Writer

Wilbur Takashima, his 7-month-old daughter, Robin, tucked into a carrier on his back, swayed in the traditional steps of the “Fool’s Dance” as loudspeakers at the Senshin Buddhist Temple blared out the first Japanese folk song of a summer Obon festival evening.

“Odoru aho ni miru aho; onaji aho nara odoranya son son.” The words of the song beckoned onlookers to join: “Those who dance are fools and those who watch are fools; if you’re a fool anyway you may as well dance.”

Many of the dancers wore informal happi jackets, while some women and girls donned kimonos and a handful of men appeared in summer yukata robes. Even teen-agers sporting punk hair styles and sunglasses danced in the happi jackets of their temple youth group. But those in street dress could also join in. All stepped to the beat of live taiko drumming that merged with recorded folk songs.

Swinging their arms and gliding forward without partners, the dancers formed concentric circles that spun slowly around a drum stand in the center of the temple parking lot, given a festive air by strings of paper lanterns.

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“Obon dancing is really sort of a celebration of joy,” Takashima, 39, a Culver City resident, said later during a break in the dancing. The festival drew about 500 people to the Senshin temple, a few blocks west of USC. “It’s a way of expressing our joy that our religion teaches us.”

The Southern California Japanese-American community is in the thick of the two-month Obon season, as Buddhist temples of the Pure Land Sect--the predominant school among Japanese-Americans--hold festivals and carnivals highlighted by the traditional dance of bon odori.

Obon dancing among Japanese-Americans went into “a very serious decline in numbers” in the 1950s, when it was performed primarily by women over 30 who studied with dance instructors, said Masao Kodani, head minister at Senshin.

But in the 1970s, temple members simplified the dance, which “encouraged young males to come in and dance, and that changed the whole atmosphere,” he said. “People just coming by could watch for a few minutes and jump in and dance. That returned it more to its original meaning.”

Obon dancing is now “at the peak of a resurgence,” he said.

“A lot of people look forward, I think, to the Obon season just to have some place to go every weekend,” said Sharon Koga, 36, of Inglewood, one of the taiko drummers. “It becomes really the summer social circuit for a lot of temple people.”

Mitzi Shimizu of Gardena, who went to the Senshin dance with about 20 members of the Gardena Buddhist Church, said her group had attended Obon festivals in Sun Valley and Little Tokyo earlier in July, and would attend as many of the remaining events as possible.

“Throughout the rest of this month and into August, counting our own, every weekend there’ll be an Obon festival somewhere in the Los Angeles area,” Shimizu said. “A lot of the people we see here, we run into everywhere.”

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Different schools of Japanese Buddhism place different interpretations on Obon. But it is widely considered a time to honor one’s ancestors, and at Senshin, as at many temples, bon odori is preceded by services for those who have passed on in the previous year.

The word Obon comes from the name of a Buddhist scripture that relates the story of a disciple of the Buddha who danced in joy after seeing his mother released from suffering in hell, Kodani explained. “That supposedly is the beginning of the first bon odori ,” he said.

Pure Land Buddhism “looks on the story as a description of the awakening process, and Obon is the discovery of joy,” Kodani said.

A favorite number at the Senshin festival was a piece called “Yuiyo,” or “Just Dance.” Created last year by Los Angeles resident Nobuko Miyamoto--a Japanese-American musician, dancer and Senshin member--it combines English and Japanese to express the meaning of bon odori :

“Ureshii kai? Kanashii kai?

“Kekko, kekko, odore, odore.

“Namu Amida Butsu. Tada

Odore. . . .”

(Are you happy? Are you sad?)

(Wonderful, it’s all right. Dance,

dance!)

(Namu Amida Butsu. Just

dance. . . .)

“Obon, gathering of joy

“Joy in remembering the past

“In embracing the sorrow . . .

“Moving as one

“Forget the self and join in

celebration.

“Why look at life go by?

“Don’t be shy--no hazukashii

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“Don’t make a show--no shibai

“Let your kokoro (heart) just

dance.”

“We tried to create a dance that would have people look at each other and laugh at each other,” Miyamoto commented late in the evening as the remaining festival-goers gathered in an assembly hall to snack on cold noodles and watch a taiko drum show. “I tried to capture the feeling of what it would be like to dance the dance as the sun is going down.”

The themes of the song emerged from discussions with Kodani and temple members, Miyamoto added.

“For us, enlightenment is not something that you work at,” Kodani explained. “It’s something that hits you in the face when you’re ready for it. Getting ready for it is to see that the ego is not the center and core of our being. . . .

“Hesitancy to dance is the ego not wanting to put itself in an embarrassing condition. It wants to be in control. It wants to look good. And once you learn to dance, it wants to show off. Either way you lose.”

But when someone is truly lost in dancing--neither embarrassed nor showing off--the ego is forgotten and one can brush against religious truth, Kodani said.

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“That moment is the only moment of bon odori. Everything else is preparation,” he said.

A smile of delight that said more than words lit Kodani’s face as he added: “And then that moment is no big thing--because it’s just dancing.”

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