anpanman approves

Yesterday we held the joutoushiki, the ridge-raising ceremony. That’s two weeks after the ridge was actually raised, but we rescheduled it because the work on the day lasted until late evening.

On our arrival at 3:30 (the ceremony was supposed to start at 4pm), it was obvious that a lot of progress had been made since the previous week. The windows were all in, which really gives a much better feel for their placement. Although only Suzuki-san, the master carpenter, and an assistant are now assigned to the job, a lot of the carpenters that helped with the ridge raising had come for the ceremony, and instead of just standing around waiting, they had just jumped into working on the house—and, as you can imagine, another ten people can make a real difference.

M had made inari-zushi, tamago-yaki, and some boiled nagaimo, and we brought lots of cold tea, since—although everyone used to drink themselves silly at these events in the old days—nowadays they have to drive home, and the police don't look the other way anymore. The carpenters had made a long table with the stacks of lumber. At the head of the table was a pot of sake, and two small bowls, one of rice and one of salt.

After everyone had gathered, including Yamada-san, the man in charge of sales, Takahashi-san, the architect, and Yoshimura-san, the site foreman, we followed Suzuki around to the corners of the house, where he would bow, pour a bit of sake over the corner, and bow again. Then M and I would do the same with the purifying salt and the rice.

Back at the table, Suzuki-san sang an invocation asking the gods to protect the ridges. He had fixed a round folding fan on a stick and placed it at the head of the table. Then he climbed up to the ridge to place the stick there—where it will stay during the building. While we waited, M, m and I wrote messages and signed our names on the post at the entrance of the house.

We each said a few words, and Yamada-san gave a bit longer speech about us and our relationship with the old house, and how he hoped the new house would be worthy of the site. Then we had a toast with the sake and everyone dug into the food. Each of the carpenters introduced themselves, all looking very shy. M and I went around giving a gift of a bottle of wine to each of them, and thanking them for their help. And then we sat around chatting. A couple that lives nearby, and who also had Kagatsuma build their house, dropped by and joined us. (Looking at their place helped us make the decision to go with this contractor.) It was that kind of relaxed, yet formal, gathering that makes up a lot of Japanese local ceremonies.

When we were done, a word from the site foreman had them all cleaning up the dishes in about ten seconds: while they were handling the garbage bags and sweeping the floor, we were laughing with the other couple at how vertical the craftsmen relationships are. It’s almost like a stable of sumo wrestlers in the way apprentices must stay aware of their superior’s needs. I used to think it was anachronistic but have become convinced that there’s a lot to say for this kind of education.

It was a very hot, very muggy day, and the smell of all that wood was like a very heady incense hanging in the thick air. Still, as it often is, the temperature was a few degrees cooler than Tokyo, and there was just enough breeze coming through the open windows to keep it in the comfort zone.

I was walking out the driveway with Takahashi-san, and we looked back at the house, and there was something very delicate and wonderful about the slope of the eaves coming off the L-shape of the first floor. Before I could say anything, Takahashi-san said, “You just aren't aware of the roofs of many buildings any more.” It was exactly what I was thinking.