Japan has two major holidays every year: New Years and Obon. Of the two, I find Obon the most interesting because it’s a kind of religious halloween that takes place in late July and early August. The ancestors of each family are thought to come back and live with their kin for a few days and to dance with them at the annual round dances called Obon Odori. The Japanese also celebrate this time of year by telling ghost stories–thought to stave off the heat by inspiring chills along the spine. Yotsuya Kaiden–the story of the blameless housewife Oiwa poisoned and eventually murdered by her heartless husband–runs at the Kabuki Theater in Tokyo and can be seen in its various manifestations on late-night T.V. Variety shows feature ghost pictures sent in by viewers at home, and the whole country becomes interested in “annoyo”–the other world. I spent many years living in the countryside in Kyushu–where the nights are darker and the feeling of the past is ever-present. That’s where one feels the presence of annoyo and the significance of Obon the most! But, like most other things in Japan, the real secret of Obon is the people. Obon odori time is a great social occasion when all the pretty girls come out in their summer kimono and grandmothers teach their grandchildren the particular steps and hand-positions of their village dance style. There’s nothing too spooky about the celebration itself. Department stores, too, feature Bon lamps–blue-colored lava-lamp sorts of things, some with revolving blue lights–that are meant to show the way for returning spirits.

Here’s a “true” Obon story that I’d like to share.

I’ve lived in Japan now for over 14 years and I can tell you that Japan is full of interesting ghost stories, many of which I have collected over the years. Every summer, during Obon (Japan’s equivalent of Halloween), I make a point of asking my students to share their stories as part of my English classes. Just recently I gave the assignment to one of my English classes at Waseda University and received the following most interesting story: The mother of one of my students had a disturbing, recurring dream. She dreamed that her late father was standing next to her futon weeping uncontrollably. When she asked what was wrong he wouldn’t answer. The woman said that he was dressed in his white burial shroud, and looked exactly as he did in life, except that he had no legs–a traditional characteristic of Japanese ghosts. After a week of these dreams, the woman attempted to rise up and touch her father. “Don’t come here!” He told her. “I don’t want you here!” The woman found the harsh language that her father used odd indeed. In the final dream, the father reached down and touched his daughter on the breast and disappeared. When the woman woke up she felt that the dreams and her father’s touch had some special significance. Later that day she went to the hospital and had her breasts examined and the doctor found a tiny cancer. The doctor was astonished because the cancer was so small no one would have noticed it except for another specialist. The woman had an operation and is now perfectly healthy. She thinks, or so her son told the class, that her father did not want her to go to “Annoyo”–the other world, or the land of the dead–where he was. That’s why he told her not to come near him, and touched her breast. The incident happened about ten years ago, and is told by the family every year at Obon.