As mentioned earlier, it’s festival time and Beautiful Wife’s home town is caught right up in it. This week the local part of town was supposed to deliver a load of white stones to the local shrine, on a cart. The cart was a wooden affair with two wheels and a wooden tail that dragged on the road and was used for steering. In front were two ropes I reckon are at least half a kilometre long. The load on the cart consisted of about ten smallish wicker baskets full of white stones.
I don’t see this catching on as a transport solution.
Moving this involved what looked like half of the local population including -somewhere- my sister-in-law, her husband The Fireman and their children. They and a couple of hundred other people hauled the cart for perhaps fifty metres, chanting, then one of the leaders running between the two lines changed the rhythm and walloped the road surface with something that looked like a cross between a Pom-Pom and a broom. Everyone then ran from side to side holding the ropes. After doing this for a few minutes they carried on.
It had taken several hours by the time we saw them, and they still had a couple of kilometres to go.
At the end of the procession we got a call that one of our nieces had sunstroke. As the entire family apart from Beautiful Wife are nurses, doctors or paramedics, and she was in a mobile medical station there was no immediate danger, but she did need to get home, pronto.
The question was, how to get her there.
There was a massive line for a taxi, so bearing in mind this is an emergency, Beautiful Wife went to ask if we could get the next available one. The answer: The Rules say everyone must wait in line. No Exceptions.
But, we pointed out, this is a little girl with heatstroke and we needed to get her home and cooled down.
The Rules say all must wait in line. No Exceptions.
Could her Daddy the Fireman come and get her then?
The Rules say Private Vehicles Are Not Permitted.
We pointedly watched several private cars pulling up and collecting people.
Well, you could go and fill in a form requesting an audience with the person in charge of the festival, who would require full vehicle details, registration number, drivers insurance details and safety record, and if satisfied will issue another form requesting Special Permission for a private vehicle to enter the festival area. We would have to take this to the traffic management office. If they were satisfied this was a genuine emergency, we would be issued with a form giving Special Permission for one vehicle to come and collect us*. It would be quicker to just wait for a Taxi. Hopefully it would be a ‘big’ one that The Rules say can carry seven people.
As all the taxis are the same type and they all apparently have four seats, this last bit was a mystery, but rather argue with someone wielding a Bt43z6 form and willing to use it, we went to join the queue.
Beautiful Wife worked out a relay system to get Niece to the Taxi stand at the right time which swung into action as we got to the front. A normal looking taxi turned up and the driver waved all seven of us on board. Eldest Son and I ended up sharing the front seat. Asked if there is an extra seatbelt.
No, just the one.
Sorry, isn’t this a bigger taxi? I asked.
No, answered the driver as the meter shot past a thousand yen and continued upwards, it was a standard four seat taxi like all the others, but as it was an emergency, he’d made an exception…

*This was mostly guesswork as there was no time to translate it. It may not have been quite this complex.

Advertisements