Hanging around on matsuri day in my town in Akita-ken, these two old guys invited me to a pre-matsuri party. Sensing a great opportunity to meet the locals, I sat around a table guzzling massive amounts of hot sake with about 20 old geezers.
The next thing I knew I was standing in an icy field wearing a hard hat with a bamboo pole in my hand. Suddenly these old characters grabbed hold of me and put me in a lineup of 50 guys at the end of the field. The same line-up was forming at the other end. Apparently I was about to take part in the Takayuchi fighting festival, the object of which was to beat the crap out of the people who live in the south of the town with 5-meter wooden sticks. Before I knew it, I was getting dragged by my legs backwards while bamboo poles were being applied in a violent fashion to my head and shoulders. Recovering my weapon, I devised a kamikaze-style plan to take out three guys with one pole -- a stunning success. However, by the time the three guys, unhappy with my tactics, had finished pummeling me I had vowed to abstain from future fighting festivals and to beware of oji-chans bearing kettles of sake. -- Adam in Akita