Part III-Moonlight Madness

Saturday; July 23, 2005.
Full-moon Parties. Held once a month, on, needless to say, the weekend of the full-moon, it is a tribute to many things. The origins are rather vague; I ended up recieving more than 5 different crash courses in history. But the universal idea seems to be the intention of celebrating 'moonlight madness', where one could use the silvery orb to the advantage of getting away with behavior that would normally be classifed under insanity. If not that, there is the laughable idea (for me at least) that most women are at 'peak heat' at this time, and would be 'willing' and 'ready' for 'adventure'. Well, I've passed many a full-moon cycle in my life, mind you, but I don't recall having had an urge to plunge into adventure of the prurient kind essentially then. But then, of course, we're not really taking into account the other phases of the moon here.... ;)
Nevertheless, I was curious as to how the Japanese partied (having heard stories that might even have Howard Stern raising an eyebrow), so I accepted the invitiation from 2 girls who work as assistants at my school to go see how 'mad under the moonlight' the Nihonjin could get, or more intriguing still, how the 'docile' Japanese women 'adventured'.
The party arena was set in the backdrops of the woods surrounding the Tone river, in a town called Minakami. Located in the Gunma prefecture, this whole area is renowed for its many natural onsen (hot springs) and scenic beauty of mountains and rivers. After work, we all piled up in Emi (one of the girls)'s car, and began driving. It was a good hour and half's drive away; en route of where we picked up a couple of Emi's friends; 2 wannabe rappers who couldn't get enough of talking about 50-cent or 'Pac. Sadly, my knowledge, if any, of rappers and other Californian 'treasures', is pathetically limited, so they reluctantly gave in to explaining what the
heck this moonlight party was all about. Need I add, it was one of them who came up with the 'women in peak heat' theory?
So we trudged on, me wondering where the hell we were going, as we cut our way into dense forest tracks which seemed to get seedier by the minute, chugging a little of this and a whole lotta that (I really don't remember what it was-probably beer), and somehow, finally, we were there. Rave music cut across the peaceful air and weighed in on my ears like bantams. The actual dance 'floor' (tent, more like, if you ask me) was a good uphill walk from the 'door', where we shelled out some yen and guest coupons. There was no rule about bringing your own drinks (thank goodness, what with the bar prices being 1500yen for a drink-ridiculous!!), so, armed with a couple of six-packs, a solid bottle of Jack Daniels (bless the dear man) and some other forms of sinful nourishment, we trekked up to the main spot. En route, however, we lost Emi, who was flocked one minute by eager hopefuls who'd obviously placed a lot of belief in the 'peak heat' theory, and was gone the next. I don't know how many theories she set out to prove, all I can say is that I didn't see her again until we drove back in the morning-a good 8 hours later. Not that I am donning on my Judge's robes, just telling it like it is.
So then, Tania( the other girl who'd come with us), the 'Boyz', and I sidled upto the bar and began chatting up some eager gaijin (foreigners). Many of them were teachers of English, like I, but there were some techies from Tokyo too. There was even a group all the way from Osaka. I didn't think the party was such a big deal to have to come from so far-true, there was the mind-numbing rave music, the 'ready for adventure' women, and a lot of booze..but...oh wait, I think I just clarified my own doubts. The crowd was a good international mix, but the majority of it seemed to be hopefuls of getting theory #2 proven. Walking around (the music was hardly 'danceable!), I witnessed more and more eager enthusiasts trying out their theories of the party, and wondered which was more shocking to the eye-the orgies or the flower children of Japan-no matter what anyone says, hippie is not very becoming of the descendants of Samurai warriors.
I doused myself with the good stuff, and got talking to a couple of interesting peeps (the Boyz had spotted some prey, presumably, and had pushed off), but I just didn't 'feel it'. Even the high dose of alcohol couldn't get me into the rave mode, and I couldn't blend with the crowd that partied like 18- year olds. After Cheb-I and Stern Grove and Mitch and other wonders of California, I guess I'd set very high standards of partying. Drunken orgies and seedy lines were just so passe....!
Speaking of seedy lines, boy, did I get a good collection! "I saw an angel in my dreams last night-she told me come to this party so I'd meet you!" and then "I love chocolate, and you look like it-can I have a taste, please?!" (This reminded me unpleasantly of the Serial killer Sagawa- a Japanese guy in the 70's who was infamous for his('cannibalistic killing'), and the classic "Would you please help me with my 'collection'? I have slept with (mind you though, the actual word he used was not 'slept with'!) women of all ethnicities, but no Indians..Would you?" I stared at this
guy, aghast. I couldn't believe the extent to which they would use the moon as an excuse. I merely laughed, and said Sure, but I'd have to shoot him in the balls right after. Would that be ok? Needless to say, I didn't see this wack again for the rest of the night. The perpetrators of the 2nd and 3rd lines were Japanese (once again, I wouldn't have deemed it possible of them; these guys whose self-consciousness and need for keeping face in public is notoriously set), but the first one was delivered by an Iranian- from California!!!! I told him he was going to get his ass whopped when he got back home, but we laughed over it and actually had a good conversation.
The party continued in this same vein for the rest of the night, and nothing more incidental happened with me, save for maybe the episode where one of the Boyz slipped me a joint instead of the cigarette I'd asked him. I busted out some hardcore Japanese cussing I'd been saving for, well, precisely this sorta event, and the guy was so taken aback he choked up on all the grass. He said I cussed like a Yakuza (Japanese Mafia), which I took to mean on par with the sailor. I suppose that was a true compliment, coming from a Japanese man, 'cause the women don't really have too many words they can use to cuss with-and retain dignity at the same time.
Another feather to my Japanese hat, there. :)
After that, exhausted (it was close to 2am), I badly wanted to go home. But until Emi was done with her 'research', there was no question of it, so I simply grabbed the keys from Tania, bid g'byes to the Boyz with promises to cuss more together soon again, and crashed in the car. I didn't wake up until we reached home much later-around 8.30am. As a souveneir, I found I'd lost my voice. Whispering g'bye, I stood up straight long enough to take off my lenses, and then fell face down onto my bed-not to wake up for a good 24 hours.
To summarize, it wasn't altogether a great experience. My recipe for a good party calls for different ingredients, different purposes. If you were like me, and wanted to party for the sake of good music, dancing, and meeting interesting people, you'd be well-advised to steer clear of the Japanese moonlight madness. Which is precisely what I intend to do myself the next time 'round.