Naha Tug of War…With a Great Shout

Picture a quarter million people converging downtown on the city, all with the single purpose of pulling a 200 meter, 43 ton rope to win the world’s biggest tug-of-war. The anticipation built all day with the first people showing up in the morning to look at and take pictures beside the rope which stretched down the center of Highway 58 in downtown Naha, Okinawa. I got there and looked at the rope which stood 4 feet tall with hundreds of arms of additional rope which would later be spread out to give more people the chance to pull. My first thought was “Wow, all this way to look at a rope and then maybe pull on it later” but I sensed something in the air that I couldn’t minimize, despite my best effort. I remember reading that this is a tradition and that the tug of war symbolized a reenactment of the epic wars between East and West Okinawa during the reign of the Ryukyu Kings in the 16^th century.  It was the 43^rd Great Tug Of War tourist and world record holding event, but the tradition had been going on for 400 years; my cynicism subsided as I weighed the span of time and the power of tradition. I got a bite to eat from a road-side vendor: something like an omelet with cheese, slaw and a variety of toppings and seasonings which was delicious but hard to eat with chopsticks. I remembered to not rub my chopsticks together to scrape off any burrs or splinters, as this is only done as a death and burial ritual, and dug in.  But I forgot  the rule about taking your trash home with you since there are no waste receptacles on the streets, so I just returned my paper plate and chopsticks to the vendor who disposed of them for me since I asked so nicely in butchered Anglo-Japanese.  Warriors and clans began gathering in late morning with great displays of Karate katas (Karate was created in Okinawa) and strength and control as one man at a time, they carried their banners on long heavy wooden poles with unbalanced and top-heavy emblems and colors flying at the top in the breeze. All this amid the clamor of shouting, banging drums and clanging gongs. The mood was getting more intense as the seemingly endless parade of clans moved down Kokusai-dori and the crowds began to throng toward the site of the main event. I thought the tug of war was to start

at 2:00, but I was wrong…the spectacle started at 2:00.  First we had to have several false starts as the many tourists attempted to get on the rope only to be directed to drop the rope and move back. There were speeches telling the story of the war, welcoming of dignitaries, a giant ball full of balloons and confetti had to be split from east to west, the “kings” of the east and west had to meet in the middle for their battle, then the east rope and west rope had to be moved together to be joined, then the slack had to

be taken out of the rope (remember we’re talking about a 43 ton rope (that’s 86 thousand pounds to you and me). Then finally, a few minutes after 4, in the hot, hot sun the war began.  With a great and mighty shout the two sides began to pull.  Loud chanting of “OYO, OYO”, ringing bells, clanging gongs, beating drums, whistling (Okinawans love to whistle) created an electricity as the war went on.  Then one side won, but I have no idea who.  I have a feeling it doesn’t really matter anyway because Okinawa was united. I managed to beat the crowd back to the monorail to get to my ride and go home afterward, and unlike the aftermath of a FSU game, there was no ongoing shouting and drunken melee.  People just getting back to their lives.
On an unrelated note: the typhoons were nothing to write home about, at least from where I watched them; they passed far enough south and north to not give me any trouble. Just a lot of wind and rain.  I think my perspective is different since I don’t have kids at home, I don’t have a giant live oak tree hanging over my head and dropping limbs. And if there is damage to my abode, I just move. If my car gets damaged, I just get a new one.