Chapter 33Jamie woke from her nap to the loud chants and tweet-thump of flute and drums coming from the matsuri festival outside. Women’s shrill shouts of “sa, sa” mixed with hard-blown whistles that pierced the steady slam and jump of festival rhythms. She uncurled herself from where she napped on the tatami and listened.
From the time she could remember until she left for America, she helped carry the mikoshi portable shrine with the neighborhood children through the streets of Asakusa. A few parents had to help carry the end of the beams and steer them, but the kids liked to feel they did it themselves. After parading, they sat at tables on a side street eating fried takoyaki balls and shaved ice loaded with sweet adzuki and drenched in macha.
In the afternoon, the streets filled with
