Japan Journal 4, August 2014

Today we saw a castle, two Shinto shrines, a Zen and a Buddhist temple.  

Our first stop was Nijo Castle. Past the moat and into the side gate, Masako, our guide, showed us a diorama of samurai warriors. She described how the samurais lived, worked and fought. She told us about Shoguns, Japan’s feared warlords, and how their dynasties began and evolved over time. I was amused to learn that the title Sei-i Taishōgun originally meant “Commander-in-Chief of the Expeditionary Force Against the Barbarians.” (I don’t remember if James Clavell mentioned that in his novel “Shogun”, my entertaining, but surely incomplete introduction to feudal Japan.) The Emperor commissioned the Shogun and his army to annihilate the rebels, the barbarians referred to in the title, who lived in the outskirts of Japan. The Shoguns eventually became more powerful than the Emperor.

The samurais were loyal to the Shogun; he was to them above everything, including life itself. They carried the Shogun in a palanquin, wherever he travelled; in this case, over 500 miles from Edo (Tokyo’s old name) to Kyoto. Ieyasu, the most powerful Shogun of all, was a big man. I imagined a situation like this …

Palanquin bearers –

Their knees buckle: weight's one thing;

His wind another.

We entered the castle grounds through a towering gate. I was very impressed by the curved thatched roof. I thought only the English can do thatch roof. I was even more impressed when I learned the roof was not made of reeds or rushes, but of cypress bark laid on top of each other. The roof was at least two-foot thick; Masako said they last for at least 30 years. The pediment of the gate has intricate carvings of plants and birds, particularly cranes, and bears the 16-petal gold chrysanthemum insignia of the imperial family.  

Nijo Castle was the Shogun’s residence when he stayed in Kyoto. It has the famous nightingale floor. Designed to signal the presence of assassins inside the Shogun’s quarters, light pressure on this floor triggered latches that produced chirping sounds of birds. That way, his bodyguards were alerted. I first learned about it from reading Lian Hearn’s novel “Across the Nightingale Floor” many years ago. Imagine my excitement at actually walking on one!

Tiptoe with great care

lest you trigger the latches -

the nightingale floor!

By nightingale's trill

the assassin shall be known -

Death had such sweet sound.

Nijo Castle has a magnificent garden – ancient pine trees, artfully placed rocks, artificial waterfalls, and clear ponds. Trees symbolize flesh, rocks bones, and water blood. The guide told us as beautiful as the garden is viewed outside, it was designed to be viewed from inside the Shogun’s chambers.

The view from inside –

Garden framed by sliding screens.

A pine needle falls.

Water, rocks and trees –

Seen a hundred arrangements,

one girl, many clothes.

Pines in the garden,

what secrets you must have heard!

Did you tell the birds?

Water ebbs and flows,

rocks remain still forever –

Movement and purpose.

Rocks on this garden,

teach me how to do nothing,

stand still, and listen.

Masako gave us an excellent tour of the Shogun’s chambers. The nightingale floor still works and we walked around accompanied, as it were, by the sound of chirping birds. These were noteworthy to me: while the windows bear the same basic frame, each one has a unique and distinctive design; the colors of the ceiling remain vibrant; the paintings on the wall screens depict the four seasons and look so serene; figures of peacocks, cranes and flowers were carved on the pediments, some of which were gilded; each chamber was assigned a different function. The higher the status of the person, the bigger the meeting room. In the grand receiving room, mannequins were positioned to depict ranks and power distance. The ranks proceed in this manner: relatives of the Shoguns first; his loyal samurais next; conquered enemies last. In the Shogun’s bedroom, several women attended to him. They, too, had ranks, partly indicated by eyebrows or more precisely the lack of them. The thinner the eyebrows (or practically none), the higher the status. These women carried daggers in their kimonos. They, too, like the samurai, were ready to die for the Shogun. One last thing: Masako said the concubine system did not start mainly for the pleasure of the Shogun or the Emperor. Its main purpose was to ensure the leaders had male heirs, something having only one wife did not guarantee. (N.B. Cameras are not allowed inside the chambers.)

Paintings on the screen

captured time and the seasons –

Spring stayed in one room.

The empty castle –

Samurai ghosts and rumours

are all that remain.

The Japanese lords were paradoxically sensitive (they wrote poetry and had sophisticated aesthetic sensibilities) and brutal at the same time (they didn’t hesitate to have anyone executed). They had power over the life and death of their soldiers, subjects and servants. Masako told us what it was like to be a helper …

The palace helper,

poor girl, broke an ancient vase –

Dismissed by dying.

From Nijo Castle, we drove to Kitano Tenmangu, our first Shinto shrine. It is one of many shrines dedicated to Sugawara Michizane, a scholar and politician, who was ruined by rivals and was unfairly sent to exile. When he died, many disasters were attributed to his vengeful spirit, so shrines were erected to appease him. Being a scholar, Michizane was associated with Tenjin, the Shinto god of education. Students regularly come to this shrine to pray for good results on their exams.

Shintoism does not have a founder or a doctrine. Shintoists worship nature and animals as well the spirits of dead relatives. Any relative who died became a guardian immediately.

Spirits of trees, mountains

and animals – Gods and Guardians.

Man and nature: One.

 

Respect for nature –

Shintos revere the spirits.

Trees dance, winds whisper.

The tall, red arches are called torii gates. They separate the material from the spiritual world. They are painted red (some have faded to red orange) because the color red supposedly had the power to drive away evil spirits. 

Here stops earthly things,

Inside – Spirituality.

The Gate divides them.

Our last site for the morning was the Kinkakuji or the Golden Pavilion. This Zen Temple was the retirement villa of Shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu, who lived in the 14^th century. The Pavilion had three floors, the first of which was made of wooden pillars and white plaster walls, typical of Japanese palaces of the period. The second floor was built in the style of samurai residences, with its exterior completely covered in gold leaf. The third and uppermost floor, built in the style of a Chinese Zen Hall, was gilded inside and out, and was capped with a golden phoenix. The Pavilion was built in a vast estate planted with maple trees with tiny leaves, and overlooked a large pond. It struck me as a fairy tale castle, like one of those enchanted places where a fox, disguised as a beautiful woman, lures an unsuspecting man with whom she’s fallen in love.

Cicadas crying

as we entered the Temple –

Peace could not compete.

Koi fish in the pond,

look what we turned them into –

mendicants for food.

Dragonfly hunters,

did you see the big black one?

A feast for koi fish!

Outside the monk’s house in the villa is a Japanese rock garden, the one where sand is neatly combed in circles. The trees around the house are ancient. One particular pine is reportedly more than 600 year old. The place looked quite serene.  

Stillness in the sand,

roiling sea inside the mind –

Reconciliation.

Before we left Kinkakuji, Masako showed us some photos taken inside the Golden Pavilion. The three floors, the make of which I described earlier, were sealed from public view, so we had no idea how they looked like inside. One photo showed the sky reflected on the 3rd floor.

Blue skies on the floor

of the Temple Pavilion –

Lacquer outshines gold!

Masako informed us that the gold covering the 2^nd and 3^rd floors of the Pavilion practically exhausted Japan’s gold supply at that time. She added gold, however, was not the most expensive material in the Pavilion. It was lacquer. (I read a bit of a history and, yes, there were many instances when gold wasn’t the most sought after commodity.)

Some things were priced more:  

Tulips, nutmeg and lacquer –  

heavier than gold. 

Clouds gathered as we boarded the bus. It was so humid, I didn’t mind some rain.

Ramble on dark clouds,

I've been waiting for cold rain –

Be gone foul summer!

Lunch was served at Public House, a cosmopolitan pub. However (and we approved), the food was Japanese – vegetable tempura, tomago, pot chicken and rice. I would really miss these meals. The freshness of the food got into me. We sat with a Filipina and her (probably) Japanese-American husband. She was surprisingly unfriendly; barely smiled, hardly spoke. It was her husband who tried to engage us in a conversation. Oh, well.

We began the afternoon tour with a visit to Todaiji Temple, which was built in the Nara Period (710-794 AD) at the command of Emperor Shomu. Its object of worship is the Vairocana Buddha or “the Buddha that shines throughout the world like the sun.” The Buddha’s statue is made from cast bronze, plated with gold. It towers around 15 meters high; its face alone is about 5.3 meters long. It weighs 500 tons. It was consecrated in 752, but was damaged and replaced several times in the following centuries.

The statue is housed by the Daibutsen or the Great Buddha Hall. It was a sight to behold! In its original state, the Hall was 47 meters high, 51 meters long, and 88 meters wide. Unfortunately, in the course of the civil wars that plagued Japan, the Hall was destroyed by fire in 1180. It was rebuilt in 1195, but burned down again in 1567. Reconstruction did not take place until much, much later and its size was considerably reduced. It is now only 33% of what it used to be, yet still big enough to claim the title “the largest wooden structure in the world.”

We entered Todaiji through the Nandai-mon or the Great South Gate. This Gate was completed in 1203, along with the two gigantic statues of guardian dieties, the Two Ni-o, housed in on its left and right sides. It has a double hip-and-gable roof, supported by 18 cypress pillars that are 21 meters high. Overall, the structure is over 25 meters high.

Deer, deemed as sacred animals in this place, are overly familiar with tourists and freely roam the vicinity.

A deer at Nara –

Friendly as a con artist,

ate the man's ticket.

Binzuru Harada was one of the Buddha’s first and most devout disciples. Unfortunately, he broke his vow of chastity and was forbidden to enter Nirvana. Still kindly and generous, he roamed the earth ministering to and healing the sick. Pilgrims rubbed Harada’s statue, then touched the part of their bodies, which hurt. The act was supposed to alleviate their pain, if not heal it altogether.

Outside Buddha's Hall,

sits Binzuru Harada –

Outcast forever.

The sheer size of the Hall and the statue of the Buddha were overwhelming. When I see structures like these (e.g. the great cathedrals of Europe), I’m reminded of the role religion plays in people’s lives. It’s such a driving force. These structures took years (some took centuries) to build! The people’s faith in their respective gods sustained their focus and energy, and the pouring of resources. How then to preserve these structures? 

You need religion

to build a Buddha that grand –

Tourists to save it.

On consecration day, a revered monk from India came over to paint the Buddha’s eyes.

The monk took up brush

and painted the Buddha's eyes –

Behold, he's alive!

The weight of stillness

hangs on Buddha's metal brows.

Birds poop on his head.

Behind the Buddha, there were two gigantic wooden statues, one of which was standing on top of a fearsome, but crushed dragon-like monster. It had a stern look on its face. I asked what it symbolized.

The guardian had brush

and paper. He monitored

foolish behaviour.

I wished for rain earlier. I deeply regretted it. Be careful what you wish for …

Clear in the morning,

the skies had clouded over –

Rain, you're capricious!

The tour proceeded to Kasuga Taisha, Nara’s most celebrated Shinto shrine. The rain was oppresive, a number of our tour mates decided to stay on the bus, Tatay being one of them. The three of us decided we would not be deterred. 

Kasuga Taisha is famous for the lanterns donated by its worshipers. Hundreds of bronze lanterns can be found hanging from the buildings while as many stone lanterns line its approaches. The lanterns are lit twice a year – first during the Lantern Festivals in early February; and second, during the Bon Festival in mid-August. Bon is the Japanese custom of honoring the spirits of one’s ancestors, akin to our All Souls Day.

There are several other shrines in the woods around Kasuga Taisha, twelve of which are on the path past the main shrine complex and comprise a tour of the twelve lucky gods. Like Todaiji Temple, the shrine is populated by wild deer and jungle crows. (I initially thought they were ravens because of their size; they were unusually huge for crows.)

We encountered non-stop heavy rain during our visit here. Despite umbrellas, we were soaked from head to foot.

Shinto or Buddhist?

The rain is irreligious – 

Deers graze everywhere.

Hundreds of lanterns

to make your wishes come true –

Rains can’t be bothered.

Forests of lanterns,

centuries of well-wishers –

Have gods favored one?

Stone lanterns' response –

Unconditional silence

to offered prayers.

For all our prayers,

evil refuses to leave –

Crows cawing outside.

Lanterns reflected

in puddles after the rain –

A sea of wishes.

Masako led us to the inner court. We had a view of the bronze lanterns, offerings made by samurais. We also saw a thousand-year old cypress tree with a massive burl. But the one that impressed me most was the ancient wisteria.

Six hundred-year old

wisteria in the Temple –

Still blooms in mid-May.

From the phalanx of lanterns to the bus was quite a walk, especially under heavy downpour.

An eerie feeling –

Being watched by a black bird

perched on a red gate.

Huge crow looking down -

Indifferent to tourists,

shakes off summer rain.

Even the big deer

could have used an umbrella –

Such heavy downpour.

We passed by a souvenir shop, not so much to buy stuff but to use its clean toilets. I was soaking wet. It was a good thing Jason brought an extra shirt I could change into. I was more concerned about my shoes. I only had a pair; to be sure, they won’t be dry by tomorrow.

Rhodora found something to buy – a door chime. I quite like the sound it makes. We asked the storekeeper what metal it’s made of. She didn’t speak English very well, but managed to say, “F-e.” Iron. She knew her chemistry.

Like a chirping bird

in summer, hopping gaily –

The red metal chime.

Rain continued on our way home. I took the chance to ask Masako about Japanese literature – best haiku books, novels (classic and contemporary), history books and travel guides. I was surprised she hasn’t heard of Pico Iyer’s “The Lady and The Monk”; it was supposed to be a definitive guide about Kyoto. Well, maybe not for the Japanese. Masako gave me a list of books, which I hope to secure.

I’ve actually read a number of Japanese novels (Kawabata’s, Mishima’s, and Soseki’s) and fairy tales (from Ozaki’s wonderful collection). I like Neil Gaiman’s retelling of “The Dreamhunters”, which I recounted to Rhodora on the bus. Seems to me, they have a common strain.

Japanese stories -

filled with beauty and sadness.

Love and death entwined.

The bus dropped us off at the New Miyako Hotel, which was almost across Kyoto Station. Instead of heading straight to our hotel, we decided to walk to the Avanti Department Store, where Masako said there’s a good bookstore. I wanted to get the books she recommended. On our way to Avanti, we noticed the birds were louder than the passing cars and buses.

Sheltered by maples,

birds trilled loudly in the rain –

Wringing wet we walked.

We had dinner at the Kyoto Wakuden, which was highly recommended by our guide and the hotel staff. Its coveted seats offered a panoramic view of the Kyoto mountains and the nearby Kyoto Tower. Unfortunately (and not surprisingly) all the seats were taken and we had to settle for a table. We didn’t really mind.

What can I say? The food was excellent! For appetizers, we had soup (charcoal-grilled cutlass fish with green chili and eggplant) and scallop with vegetables. Warm green tea was served, followed by tempura of young sweet fish flavored with a leaf bud. Cold sake was introduced after. (Jason didn’t like anything alcoholic, but we encouraged him to take a sip. He did. He didn’t like it, but he was taken by the tiny bamboo cup on which it was served, so much so we bought the cup so he can keep it as a souvenir.) Our side dish was soba, and for the main course, we had pike eel cooked in a small pot, flavored with “yuzu”, a Japanese citrus. The whole thing was so tasty, we asked for double helpings of boiled rice. Rhodora and I asked for one last cup of tea.

When we later did our Top 3 Things about Japan, food came out on top. Temples and castle were 2^nd and 3^rd. Strange as it may sound, I do think I’ll miss the food here.

Sweet smile on her lips,

sake inside his belly –

Possibilities.