Classroom Shaking and Ancient Traditions

Over the past few weeks, the surprising amount of "classroom shaking" has slowly come to my attention. The rumbling can be felt when it is time to sing the "Letter Song" and I must chase my 7-8 year old students around the room. Surprise surprise, it's everyone's favorite part of the lesson. The other kind of classroom shaking is due to my school's location adjacent to Ueda Station, and the kind of 20th century advances in ground transportation that whiz through the station at 200 miles per hour. While that kind of shaking isn't too distracting, the occasional student might ask what it is, and another student will nonchalantly respond, "It's the bullet train.". The real distracting kind of shaking is the one that convinces me the building is going down (though it's still standing) and makes everyone's heart skip a beat. We all pause for a few seconds, we all look at one another, we all hear the pre-schoolers losing control four rooms away. It makes me not want to go outside, mostly because I probably forgot my umbrella. After all, it was sunny this morning. I am of course talking about the loudest thunder I've ever heard, and the rain, lightning, clouds, and fear that come with it. Ueda's own weather pentaverate.
This weather pentaverate had been a regular for the month of what is known as "Rainy Season" (tsuyu 梅雨). It suddenly disappeared about a week and half ago, and the main topic of conversation while chatting in the lobby was how difficult the heat's been. So this morning, a co-worker of mine starts telling me about the Ueda Gion Festival, which was happening later in the day. He eventually tells me about how it rains every year on the festival, without fail. I tell him no way, as it's been hot, sunny, and clear for a week and a half now, and I didn't think this city had any rain left in it. I go out for lunch, and there's not a cloud in the sky. Then, six-thirty rolls around and my classroom is shaking. It's too much for it to be a bullet train, and my eight year olds have been long gone for seven hours. We hear pouring and feel more shaking, and sure enough the pentaverate is paying us another visit. While it is still relatively close to rainy season, it's incredible that it rains every year on the night of this festival. I asked my co-worker, who has lived in the area his whole life and this city for fifteen years, the simple words, "Divine intervention?", and he smiled but did not answer. The Gion festival, originally from Kyoto, was started to appease the gods of fire, floods, and earthquakes. Maybe the weather pentaverate of Ueda just feels a little left out?