I felt like a fool.

I was milling around in a crowd of similarly disoriented gaijin, some of whom had turned to overpriced beer to substitute their confusion with something more familiar. I was waiting for my turn to prance down a street, doing a dance I'd never seen, in front of an audience of thousands of expectant Japanese spectators. And I was wearing a bathrobe. I guess a beer might have helped.

On my way down the street, I stumbled as I put one leg in front of the other and flailed my arms around in the air. The leaders of our dancing group, if you could call us anything so cohesive as a group, had tried and failed miserably to get us into rows of five people. Therefore, as if feeling like a fool wasn't enough, I must have looked like one - the guy next to me certainly did, but he had a beer and didn't seem to mind. Someone said later on that looking foolish was actually the done thing at Awa Odori. She also had a beer. I was clearly missing an essential ingredient.

By night's end, though I had a good time, I felt simply that if I was ever going to dance Awa Odori again, I was going to get it right. No amount of beer could provide a cure in itself, so, some seven months later, I finally got around to asking my JTE to help me track down a local ren with whom I could learn to dance. Yamashita-sensei said that his brother, who works for the Tokushima Shimbun, knows the old bloke who is the senior dancer for a group in Miyoshi-cho. "Turn up on Saturday night and we'll get the renchou to show you the ropes." Right.

Having bought a keitai from his brother's wife and gotten a free car service from his mate at the jidousha, I had come to trust Yamashita-sensei and his network of shady contacts. Saturday night? Well, it's not like there's anything to do in Nishiiya on a Saturday. And of course, there's no ren in the Iya Valley. Before I knew it, I was off to Miyoshi for my first lesson in Awa Odori. The name of the group was Minoda-ren. An old man named Hatahoko-san took me under his wing and did his best to deal with my half-baked Japanese. I didn't know how lucky I was to be put in touch with this group and that man.

Minoda is the name given to the rock pools in the Yoshino River where it winds its way past Miyoshi-cho. Not far from these pools is the Highway Oasis, where both local residents and drivers on the expressway can take a break, have a meal or an onsen, and maybe enjoy some entertainment on the outdoor stage. Minoda-ren uses this place as a base for regular practice and performance, and it duly turns out that this group is one of the most active around. Most rens would only practice in earnest for a month or two before the Obon festival in August, after which they give it away until next year, but Minoda-ren is into it from March and keeps dancing until November. They have even recorded their own Awa Odori CD - Hatahoko-san gave me a free copy after my first lesson. These guys are the real deal.

As for the renchou, Hatahoko-san has probably been dancing Awa Odori since he was a child. It shows - he might be getting old, but he moves with grace and can hop around with the best of them. My Japanese is bad, but he manages to communicate more than just the step - he gives me a feel for the meaning behind it, for the way the movement starts in your heart and ends up floating off the end of your fingers. Watching him dance is breathtaking. He's a great bloke, too. I could do worse than having something of renchou rub off on me.

Since that first lesson back in April, I am slowly getting to know the rest of the group as well, though Japanese names still tend to go in one ear and out the other. Before long they had me joining in for their performances every other Sunday. I don't know exactly what the audiences think of a six foot four white guy dancing the local dance, but with much friendly encouragement from the rest of the team, I've gotten used to it and now enjoy getting amongst it on stage. We even performed at a wedding last weekend. It was only for ten minutes, but it was the first wedding I've ever been to in any country, let alone Japan. My adventure in Awa Odori has already taken me to places I never expected.

I can't wait for Obon to come around again in August. It should be a fun time, not just with Minoda-ren on the streets of Kamojima and Ikeda, but also with Arasowa-ren in Tokushima City. I'm looking forward to giving the new JETs and anyone else who'll listen a bit more insight into the dance and the spectacle than I had myself last year. We'll get a grip of the basic step, get into our yukata and get out there to dance down the streets. We might even be able to teach them the chant that embodies what Awa Odori is all about.

"Odoru ahou ni miru ahou,
Onaji ahou nara odoranya son son!"

"The dancing fools,
the watching fools,
Fools just the same,
So you might as well dance!"

If I'd known about this philosophy right from the start, maybe I'd have realised sooner that this is my sort of dance! I have the feeling that I'm going to feel foolish all over again this year, but it doesn't worry me any more. I'll feel like a fool. I'll love every minute of it. Bring it on.

June 2002