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5 unusual festivals in Japan you need to know about 

The eccentricities of Japan have been well documented, particularly regarding its place in modern pop culture, from zany game shows where people eat furniture, to a pervasive kawaii culture which takes the love of cute things to a level of unwavering religious devotion.

However, peculiarities in Japanese culture actually date back centuries, and often come with much deeper meanings than outsiders would originally assume. The best way to experience this is through the many iconic Japanese festivals that take place, usually around shrines, throughout the year. Some may seem strange and unusual to visitors, but all have long histories that hold an important place in the story of this endlessly compelling country.

 

Here are just five of those esoteric festivals, illustrating how certain beliefs throughout history have been interpreted in unique ways.

1. Nakizumo Crying Baby Festival

Japan’s seemingly bizarre Nakizumo Crying Baby Festival is based on the ancient proverb naku ko wa sodatsu, which roughly translates as ‘crying babies grow fast’. For over 400 years, this has led to the idea that parents are doing their toddler a great service by watching them wail in public, whilst cradled in the arms of a very burly sumo wrestler, to bless them with healthy lives and ward off evil spirits.

 

Each April/May, this festival takes place in several locations across the country, although the most notable is behind the iconic Senso-ji Temple in Tokyo’s traditional Asakusa district. On the day, two different sessions – one around 11am, and one around 2pm – are each made up of dozens of rounds where two sumos stand on opposing sides of a small stage, and are given a one-year-old baby to hold from the procession of participating parents.

 

A referee/priest officiates each round, which involves both sumos lifting their respective baby and gently swaying it to encourage it to cry. Whichever baby cries first is declared the winner of that round, but it’s not often that simple. When both babies cry at the same time, the wrestler will intensify his actions to see which cries the loudest, thereby determining a winner. If neither baby cries, a duo of elderly priests sitting on either side of the stage spring into action, donning colourful bird-demon masks to try and bring the baby closer to tears. Throughout, the priest softly yells “nake, nake" at each baby, which means “cry, cry".

Nakizumo Crying Baby Festival
Nakizumo Crying Baby Festival (Photo: Chris Singh)

2. Akutai Matsuri

Referred to in English as the ‘Festival of Abusive Language’, Akutai Matsuri turns the otherwise stoic atmosphere of the small city of Kasama in Ibaraki Prefecture into a cathartic shouting match of local cuss words.

 

This annual festival, which dates back to the Edo Period (1603-1968), is hosted each December by the Atago and Iitsuna shrines, though there are several smaller iterations across the country. It began as a way for overworked factory workers to purge any pent-up frustrations, but today has turned into a rowdy celebration of insults like bakayaro (idiot) and konoyaro (bastard).

 

During the festival, hundreds of people march behind a group of 13 priests who are dressed up as red-faced goblins, shouting at them as they make the 40-minute climb to Atago Shrine from the area around Iwama Station.

 

Stops at smaller shrines along the way are expected so the ‘goblins’ can present their offerings, which many try to steal as they are known to bring good luck to whoever gets a hold of them. The race to steal the offerings is often why the festival has a reputation for getting quite rowdy.

Akutai Matsuri translates to the ‘Festival of Abusive Language’

3. Kanamara Matsuri

Perhaps the most recognised of Japan’s unusual practices, Kanamara Matsuri is widely known as the Fertility Festival (or sometimes the Penis Festival). Held in April, the festival takes place in the city of Kawasaki at Kanayama Shrine, only one hour south of Central Tokyo, with a history said to reach all the way back to the 17th century.

 

During this time, various maids and prostitutes would visit the shrine to pray for protection against sexually transmitted diseases and similar misfortunes. This prompted the shrine’s parishioners to start this festival, which has grown to become one of the most inclusive and celebratory events in the region.

 

People of all identities and ages come to celebrate on the day, which involves a mikoshi parade of human-sized phalluses being marched through the streets, carried on palanquins to the Kanayama temple. Around this, there are various phallic-shaped objects, both edible and artistic. Participants can learn the art of carving vegetables into phallic shapes, come dressed in penis-themed costumes, and even pose for pictures on large, wooden phalluses.

Kanamara Matsuri is widely referred to as the fertility festival

4. Paantu Festival

If you’re visiting the small island of Miyako-jima in Okinawa during September (or sometimes, October), don’t be surprised if a masked man, covered in leaves and mud, runs up and enthusiastically smears some of that slimy sludge onto you.

 

The Paantu Festival is named for supernatural beings once believed to descend upon a village to chase evil away and bring good fortune to its residents. According to this legend, any home, newborn baby, or adult who is splashed with mud by these deities would be blessed with good luck for the coming year.

 

The result is an island usually full of terrified children as the mud men run around in their odd appearances and dirty anything they can get their hands on, from cars to humans to houses. Visitors who happen upon the island during the festival can also expect to be splashed by the Paantu, who are sometimes known to chase adults and pin them to the ground before blessing them with their boggy bodies.

 

Although the festival has historically been spread wider throughout the Okinawa islands, nowadays you’re only likely to find it in Hirara City in Shimajiri, and the Nobaru district of Ueno village.

The Paantu Festival is named for supernatural beings

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5. Otaue Matsuri

Twice a year in early May and early September, the stunning, large Omishima island in Ehime Prefecture hosts a seemingly normal and bountiful rice-planting festival called Otaue Matsuri. The Japanese staple food takes pride of place at this event, which marks the rice-planting season in spring, and the harvest in autumn.

 

Located at Oyamazumi shrine, the festival isn’t all too different from similar events which happen throughout the year in different parts of Japan. There is one very distinctive element though, and the reason for its inclusion on this list.

 

The wildest and most unusual aspect of this festival is called hitori zumo, which roughly translates to ‘one-man sumo’. During this, the god said to take up residence in the shrine is the sole opponent for the region’s sumo champion, spurring three bouts of man versus deity that plays out exactly as you would expect: a sumo wrestling with what looks like thin air.

 

Each year, the god has won at least two of the three bouts, which is taken to mean a plentiful harvest for the year.

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These community homestays are changing how travellers experience Nepal

    After youth-led protests in 2025, this year Nepal elected a 35-year-old former rapper as Prime Minister. In a country where tourism is its biggest industry, what’s next for travellers? 

    In 1986, Nepal changed its clock. It had used India Standard Time since 1920 so, to differentiate, it wound its clock 15 minutes ahead of, not behind, its big-brother neighbour. Boss move. “Nepal is strongly opposed to the idea that our identity is connected to India,” says Community Homestay Network (CHN) guide Bikal Khanal.  

    Tharu dance
    Tharu dance is traditionally set to hand drums. (Credit: Kate Lewis)

    Today, Nepal is the only independent country with a 45-minute deviation to universal time; an oddity that’s become a symbol of national pride. The quirk is nearly as endearing as Kathmandu’s Tribhuvan airport where carved varnished wood and shiny red bricks rule. One sign points to a ‘Travelator’ and another to a ‘Grievance Handling Desk’ while visas are noisily stamped at customs for US dollars, cash only. When am I?  

    Nepal gray langur
    Spot the endemic Nepal gray langur. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    The 15 or 45 minute anomaly sees me tap out completely on timezone calculations. Why bend my brain calculating if it’s quarter to or quarter past elsewhere when I’m in the honking here and now of Kathmandu where the air is high-altitude crisp, the prayer flags flutter and the street dogs howl?  

    How tourism is changing in Nepal

    Bardiya National Park
    Bardiya National Park is rich with wildlife. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    India is not the only association many Nepalis would like to shake. With eight of the world’s 10 tallest mountains, including Mount Everest and Annapurna, Nepal has long attracted mountaineers and trekkers, and expedition numbers are continuing to rise.  

    Tourism is one of the country’s biggest sources of foreign currency, so this growth is not negative, per se. But according to Ang Tshering Lama, who co-founded Phaplu Mountain Bike Club, being reduced to a mere trekking destination is limiting.  

    “Trekking is just one layer of our identity,” says Ang. “When it becomes the dominant narrative, it limits how we’re seen and how we see ourselves.” Nepal’s recent success, however, in diverting trekkers to less-trafficked areas such as Manaslu mofuntain, where visitor numbers rose by 117 per cent last year, offers hope that tourism can diversify even more radically.   

    Local men in Bhada village
    Local men in Bhada village. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    The founder of CHN, Shiva Dhakal, wants that change. “The whole idea of the Community Homestay Network is to promote experiences outside of trekking,” he says. “Community tourism changes lives and helps kids stay home instead of coming to the city or migrating to the Middle East.”  

    Ang grew up seeing people leave, “not because they wanted to but because there weren’t enough opportunities to stay”, he states. Yet from remote villages to living traditions; food, art, music and emerging subcultures, “there’s so much that’s not being seen.” 

    CHN is opening some of those doors. It doesn’t own, or fund, any homes. Rather, it promotes homestays to travellers on a single, slick platform, while fostering entrepreneurship in places where women, marginalised castes, Indigenous people and the youth stand to benefit the most.  

    A new generation demanding more

    Dalla Town Hall
    Dalla Town Hall, where volunteers discuss anti-poaching tactics. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    The future prospects of next-gen Nepalis can no longer be ignored. On a Kathmandu tour with 33-year-old guide Monica K.C, we pass buildings torched in the September 2025 ‘Gen Z protests’, including the Supreme Court and Parliament House. Seventy-two people died. “They were anti-corruption protests,” says Monica. “Politicians’ children are living a lavish life but the airports are crowded with youngsters leaving to find work.”  

    We stop in ‘little Tibet’ at the wondrous sixth-century Boudha Stupa. “The wheel of life is Buddhism in a nutshell,” says Monica. “Things such as hate, ignorance and anger keep you rotating around the wheel, so you must follow the principles of Buddhism to detach. If you can’t, there’s no nirvana for you.”  

    Boudha Stupa's prayer wheels
    Boudha Stupa’s prayer wheels are used to recite Buddhist prayers. (Credit: Kate Lewis)

    In a sun-drenched twist to the usual temple visit, we ascend the stupa’s sloping plinth and roam its whitewashed dome. Tendrils of diaphanous prayer flags stream from a steeple-like structure where the Buddha’s unblinking eyes stare out. No nirvana for you… 

    bouda stupa prayer flags
    Tibetan-style prayer flags embellish the whitewashed dome of Bouda Stupa, a Buddhist temple. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    The dome is delightfully free of guard rails or chiding from security. There is, however, a stern ‘No TikTok’ sign, perhaps in response to the youth’s newly flexed power. The booted-out Prime Minister, K.P. Sharma Oli, was replaced in a resounding election victory in March by 35-year-old Balendra Shah of the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) – a former rapper and mayor of Kathmandu. The RSP’s manifesto indicates tourism is a priority, and that Nepal’s cultural identity in areas such as gastronomy will be strengthened.  

    Boudha Stupa vendors
    Vibrant souvenir shops and cafes around Boudha Stupa. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    A more confronting stop awaits at Pashupatinath Temple. Today is Bala Chaturdashi, a Hindu festival where thousands of devotees gather to honour their dead ancestors. Vendors hauling foam mattresses do a lucrative trade as people set up for a night of vigil. This includes burning the bodies of recently deceased relatives on bamboo pyres in the Bagmati River, which flows into the sacred Ganges.  

    A woman at annual Hindu festival Bala Chaturdashi
    A woman at annual Hindu festival Bala Chaturdashi, in Kathmandu. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    Wrapped in a shroud, the bodies are positioned with their heads facing north to the Himalayas where Lord Shiva resides. They’re covered with flowers and straw and set alight by male family members.  

    Hours later, the ashes are swept into the river where devotees will take a holy dip the next day. As much as Monica assures us it’s not voyeuristic to watch, I struggle to do so. “Here you see the reality of life because everyone ends up there,” she says, gesturing to the river.  

    Life unfiltered in the Terai region

    tharu woman
    Tharu woman and master weaver Parbati Chaudhary in Bhada Village. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    The reality of life needs processing time, which the western Terai region delivers in spades. The Terai is largely separated from India by the Karnali River and Bardiya National Park, where elephants, rhinos and the elusive Bengal tiger roam.  

    Once a nomadic tribe, the Indigenous Tharu people are now the largest ethnic group here. “They didn’t know their daily life was interesting for international travellers but they’re starting to understand now,” says CHN founder Shiva.  

    safari through Bardiya National Park
    Take a Jeep safari through Bardiya National Park. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    We fly Buddha Air to Dhangadhi airport and drive five hours to stay in Tharu homes. The journey to Bhada village is a blur of roadside fruit stalls, traffic-stopping sacred cows and fields sown with wheat, rice, mustard, spinach, cauliflower and potatoes. Nepal’s agriculture feeds only Nepal.  

    Marigolds
    Marigolds are an important part of Hindu rituals. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    “The only thing we export is young people,” says our guide Bikal. As the light dims and we plunge evermore rural, mysterious mounds of compacted hay – some house-sized – loom like the creatures from Where The Wild Things Are. Even our trusty driver gets flummoxed by a dirt road that abruptly ends and we find ourselves hurtling across a paddock.  

    On arrival, some are ferried to mud-walled cottages greened by gourd creepers, with thatched roofs and rustic-chic mosquito nets. Myself and two others are ushered to the home of corner store owner, mechanic and mushroom farmer Man Kumar Chilaruwa and his wife Rajkumari.  

    community homestay entrance
    A warm welcome at a community homestay. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    They escort us to a bunker-esque back building with steel doors and a folding security gate, behind which is gleaming linoleum, dolphin-printed tiles and a shower cavity that must be gingerly stepped through to reach the toilet.  

    The ceiling lights emit a rainbow of colours (the bathroom light gets stuck in, frankly, a quite frightening red). We’re nevertheless touched that our hosts invested in all this bling when the average salary is around $275 a month.  

    In the coming days, we participate in Tharu traditions such as making moonshine, dancing, weaving straw handicrafts and gold-panning. We’re fed well with staples of rice, mustard greens, lentil pancakes, daal, curried chicken and tomato chutney served on antibacterial saal leaves.  

    food at community homestay
    Dig in. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    Sonara community homestay president Indradevi Tharu tells us river snails are often served, and the boiled and pickled flesh of rats hunted in the rice fields. “Perhaps next time?” we say and all have a laugh.  

    The power of community homestays 

    community homestay owners in Nepal
    Barda community homestay owners Parbati Chaudhary and Ram Krishni Devi Chaudhary. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    Immersing Western visitors in foreign cultural practices is not new. But with the Tharu, I never get that uneasy sensation that I’m being performed for. Despite being the only tourists, there’s no ‘othering’; just warm, composed and ultra-dignified welcomes. Like we’ve always been here.  

    “I love to have travellers in my village so I can see the world,” says local woman Parbati Chaudhary. “Why would I travel the world when the world comes to me?” 

    The graceful acceptance the Tharu offer, as well as the slow pace, works miracles on my frazzled nervous system. One day I even take a nap on a vacant homestay bed. 

    Sonara community room
    An authentic stay in the Sonara community. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    Roosters strut and goats bray as we sit on the ground in al fresco kitchens, rolling rice flour into cylinders steamed to make dhikri (dumplings). When water is needed, we fetch it using a hand-operated pump as a family of ducks strolls by, side-eying us like curious neighbours.  

    Animal lovers will delight in Tharu villages. Kind and resourceful inventions are everywhere, such as snacking stations where two posts lean together, with leafy boughs dangling on rope for baby goats to forage from.  

    CHN’s CEO, Aayusha Prasain, nods knowingly when one in our group says she cried when she left her host, Shayam Chaudhary, in Bhada. Shayam’s 17-year-old son, Prashant, had translated, which deepened the connection.  

    “Community tourism turns travel into a relationship, not a transaction,” says Aayusha. “It places decision-making power in the hands of local communities, especially women and youth.” Since 2018, CHN has hosted more than 4000 travellers from 52 countries in 408 households, and estimates women’s participation has increased by 381 per cent.  

    Elephant watch
    Elephant watch. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    In the Bardiya community, where vexing human-animal conflict has been a balancing act for decades due to elephants raiding crops, long-time homestay operator Salik Ram Chaudhary says young people keep the older ones on their toes.  

    Gathering greens
    Gathering greens. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    “We can’t keep homestays stagnant,” he says. “We have to upgrade our service and redefine our product or young people won’t see it as an attractive business. If we can keep evolving with this travelling trend we’re confident the youths will stay and continue it.” 

    Back in Kathmandu, Monica explains that after the deaths of young protestors in September, a determination had spread to not let their sacrifice be in vain. “We want to keep holding the government accountable,” she says. “We don’t know what situation we’re facing, but we’re ready to face it.”  

    Interested in Nepal but prefer to experience it in total comfort? Read our guide to luxury travel in Nepal