Not bore - boar!

Making the most of a Kansai New Year's.

Foreigners who walk into a department store on Christmas Day will be shocked to see not one decked hall. On December 25th, all evidence of the Yuletide shopping binge has been swept away, and for exactly seven days, these gateways to the loot of the world become temples of Japanese tradition. For one whole week, the arbiters of Japanese culture (ie, Takashimaya, Hankyu, Hanshin, and the rest) lay off on the ersatz Western holidays and finally let the Japanese be Japanese.

Since 1873, when the Gregorian calendar was adopted here, Japan has celebrated the New Year on January 1st. Despite that, the Japanese word hasn't changed - it's still o-shougatsu (the beginning moon, as in the Lunar New Year of China). This year will be the Year of the Boar and soon everywhere you'll be seeing representations of amazingly cute wild pigs to get us all in the mood.

Now, depending on who you talk to here, New Year's is either the high point of the Japanese calendar or the most boring three days of the year, after which the other 362 can only get better. By tradition, New Year's is not a wild party night, but one when families assemble in their hometowns and eat unique traditional cuisine. If you're a newcomer to Japan, you might think yourself somewhat out in the cold, especially if you've not gone to the bank by Dec- ember 31st and have to subsist on Cup Noodle from Lawson's until January 4th. Fear not (but do go to the bank): join in the traditions of Japanese Shougatsu and feeling alone will be the least of your worries.

Ring my bell

On New Year's Eve, all the trains in Kansai (indeed, all over Japan) run all night, although only a few times each hour. This is a chance for people to go to their favourite shrines and make their first prayer for good luck in the New Year (this is called hatsumode). It all sounds terribly decorous and dignified (and if you're into that, I suggest going to a Buddhist temple instead, especially the sprawling, solemn Shi-Tennoji in southern Osaka City), but this being Kansai, a popular gathering place is going to be crowded and lively. Get some friends together and go shrine-hopping: start off with dinner and drinks in Umeda, end up in Nara somewhere, if the spirit moves you. If you've only been to a Japanese shrine on a quiet weekday, you're in for a treat (but if you're at all claustrophobic, go to a small local shrine in your neighbourhood). The larger and more famous shrines, or jinja (see sidebar), are madhouses by midnight, with thousands of people jostling to be the first to pray in the New Year and throw a monetary offering to the gods. Several have good luck traditions of their own (for example, you'll see people coming from Kyoto's Yasaka Jinja twirling small pieces of rope, keeping a spark alight: it was said, back in the days when homes were heated with charcoal braziers, that the first fire lit with this spark would bring the home good luck. I can't imagine what they light now, but the custom persists).

Meaningful food - o-sechi ryouri

On New Year's Eve, families in Kansai eat soba noodles on New Year's Eve. Not everyone seems to know why, but the answer I heard most was that long narrow noodles symbolized an old saying, hosoku-nagaku (narrow and long) which is rough shorthand for "stick to the straight and narrow and live a long time." And so out goes the old year. Traditionally, Mum now gets her annual three days off from cooking. So what does everyone eat? What Mum and Gran (or the cooks at the department store where they ordered it in) have been preparing for days: o-sechi ryouri, New Year's food. (If you can't share it with a family, check out a hotel buffet - see sidebar).

Once upon a time, o-sechi was considered a treat, a delicacy to be savoured once a year. In roughly one Westernized generation, though, it has become something to be endured - I've yet to talk to anyone under 25 who really likes it. This is sad, not only because an ancient tradition is slowly (but surely) disappearing, but because when prepared right, o-sechi is delicious (although admittedly I've never been stuck eating it for three days). There are regional variations all over Japan, but here are the basic dishes and their (very loosely) agreed-upon meanings.

Kazunoko – herring roe, which symbolizes prosperity; tai (sea bream), which symbolizes good luck; Kuromame – symbolizes hard work and diligence; Kobumaki (rolled seaweed) - represents pleasure; ebi (prawn) symbolizes long life. O-Zoni, the traditional soup with vegetables and mochi (rice cakes), is made with miso broth in these parts, but with soy sauce in Tokyo. It goes without saying that sake goes very well with all of this.

After a good night out and a good day's feed, take a few days to digest and recharge, get to work on those resolutions, and prepare for a great 2007. You'd be advised to stay out of the department stores, though, or you'll be bluntly reminded that there are only six more weeks until Valentine's Day.

Text: Colin Doyle • Photos: Atmo Nartan