Setsubun Bean Throwing Festival

If you have ever wondered what it feels like to be gently assaulted by roasted soybeans while surrounded by monks, celebrities, and thousands of extremely motivated grandmothers, welcome to the Setsubun bean throwing festival at Naritasan Shinsho ji. This is not just an event. It is a national spectacle. It is chaos with manners. It is spiritual purification delivered at high velocity.

Every year on February 3, Naritasan Shinsho ji transforms from a serene and majestic temple into something that feels halfway between a religious ceremony and a competitive sport. People arrive early. Very early. Some arrive so early that you suspect they camped overnight fueled only by vending machine coffee and unwavering determination. Why. Because beans.

Setsubun marks the symbolic end of winter and the beginning of spring according to the old lunar calendar. In Japan this transition is apparently best handled by throwing beans at invisible demons while shouting phrases about fortune and evil. It makes perfect sense once you are there. Trust me.

Naritasan is the most famous place in Japan to experience this tradition. Other temples do it too, but Naritasan does it bigger louder and with celebrities. Real celebrities. Sumo wrestlers who look like they could bench press the temple gate. Kabuki actors in dramatic makeup who somehow manage to look elegant even while hurling soybeans into a screaming crowd. Television personalities smiling serenely as they rain legumes upon the masses.

The day starts calmly enough. You walk through the massive temple grounds, past incense smoke and prayer halls, thinking this will be a peaceful cultural experience. Then you hear it. A roar. A sound like a stadium crowd mixed with a kindergarten snack time gone wrong. You follow the noise and suddenly you are packed shoulder to shoulder with thousands of people all staring upward with the same expression. Hope.

Up on the stage the participants line up. Monks chant. Celebrities wave. Bags of beans are stacked like ammunition. Then it begins. Beans fly through the air in graceful arcs. Hands shoot up. People jump. Polite Japanese reserve vanishes instantly. This is not rude. This is destiny.

Everyone wants beans because beans mean luck. Catching one is good. Catching several is better. Catching a bean thrown by a famous sumo wrestler is apparently elite tier fortune. People bring bags. Hats. Pockets. I once saw someone attempt to catch beans with their scarf like a fishing net. Innovation thrives under pressure.

The chants echo through the temple grounds. Oni wa soto. Fuku wa uchi. Out with demons. In with good fortune. Even if you do not know the words you will learn them quickly. The rhythm pulls you in. You find yourself shouting along, bean in hand, laughing at how absurd and wonderful this all is.

What makes Naritasan especially hilarious is the contrast. Behind you is a thousand year old temple dedicated to serious spiritual practice. In front of you is a monk calmly tossing beans while a crowd of adults scramble like pigeons fighting over crumbs. Somehow it works. The sacred and the ridiculous coexist beautifully.

After the throwing ends people inspect their haul like treasure. Some count their beans carefully. Tradition says you should eat the same number of beans as your age plus one for extra luck. This leads to some very quiet math moments for older participants. Others just snack immediately. Roasted soybeans taste surprisingly good when earned through effort and mild chaos.

Outside the temple the festival energy continues. Food stalls line the approach. Sweet amazake warms your hands. Grilled snacks fill the air with smoke and temptation. Everyone looks happy and slightly dazed. Strangers compare stories. Did you catch one. How many did you get. That one almost hit my face. It becomes a shared experience that bonds everyone instantly.

What makes this festival unforgettable is not just the beans or the celebrities or the scale. It is the feeling that for one day the entire country agrees that yelling at demons and throwing food is a reasonable and joyful way to reset the year. You leave feeling lighter. Purified. Slightly sore from jumping. Possibly still finding beans in your coat pocket days later.

Naritasan Shinsho ji during Setsubun is Japan at its most charmingly unhinged. Deep tradition delivered with a wink. Serious beliefs expressed through playful chaos. It is loud. It is crowded. It is absolutely worth it.

If you go, arrive early. Wear something comfortable. Protect your face if you are short. Bring an open mind and fast reflexes. And when a bean finally lands in your hand, clutch it like the tiny lucky miracle it is. Spring has begun.