the land of a thousand temples

This was quite an eventful weekend. After the first week of classes, I dropped my schoolwork and went off to explore the area.

On Friday I went to Kyoto with some people who invited me to go along with them to see Kyomizu-dera, a famous temple. After leaving campus at one, we didn’t get to Kyoto until around two (we walked to the rail station from campus – about a mile). The others had not eaten lunch and wanted to eat okonomiyaki, so we stopped at a place near the rail station in Kyoto. We had been fortunate to run into a couple of Japanese students on campus who were going to Kyomizu as well. It is always helpful to have native speakers when going to, say, a restaurant, to translate for waiters or interpret the menu and whatnot. The okonomiyaki place was pretty reasonably priced (700-800 yen for a large serving) and had a lot of options. Two of us had already eaten lunch, so we decided we’d split one as a mid-afternoon snack. Whereas at the other places I’ve gone for okonomiyaki, they cooked it for you, here we were given a bowl with all the ingredients and let loose to cook it ourselves. We were pretty hesitant through the whole process, and Joanna (the girl with whom I split the dish) and I failed completely in flipping it. In spite of this, everything was edible and it was quite good. But after all this okonomiyaki, I’m ready to give it up for a few weeks.






By the time we were finished, it was really late… almost four o’clock. We rushed towards Kyomizu, hoping to catch it before the sunset and the gates closed. The temple is famous for two reasons. The first is that it was built on the side of the mountain on a wooden platform on stilts, which is pretty impressive. The second is that from the mountain there is a spring that feeds three bamboo chutes that pour down into a pool. It is said that if you drink from all three of them, you will have health, wealth, and love. They have long-handled ladels with which visitors can drink from the springs.

The group split up on the trek through the streets up the hill to the temple, but I arrived as the sun was setting. I was able to get in and see the temple and Kyoto as in the last light of the day.








At the bottom of the temple is the spring, and I wasn’t about to refuse the water after all that effort. So I drank from the middle one. It was only later that I was informed that one must drink from all three to get the blessings of all… turns out I drank from the one for health, which is fine by me.




On Saturday I met Daniel and Daniel (yes, there are two… and both from Sweden; in fact every other guy here is named Daniel. It’s a strange and perplexing phenomena, but Japan is apparently a haven for gaijin named Daniel) at Hirakata-shi Station (after a fairly long and awkard two-mile walk from the Seminar House) to head to Osaka. This weekend was setsubun, which I believe marks the beginning of spring in the traditional Japanese calendar. On this day, people throw beans (which represent bad fortune and spirits) in a kind of purging ritual, and then they eat them. Actually, the plan was to go to a temple that was holding an event of this kind. But apparently we were given some misinformation and things weren’t happening as thought. So we were left to go shopping.

Don't let yourself be confused. They are floors and not circles. And they don’t descend through the earth, but ascend towards the heavens in a vain attempt to touch them.

The first floor of hell is the computing department. Here, poor souls are bombarded with a constant stream of terribly similar pop-music and choruses of “Irrashaimase!” (“Welcome to the store,”) thrown from every direction. They wander over tile floors underneath thick clouds of tacky red, yellow and blue signs advertising eternal sales on things no one will be able to use.

After seeing this, I ascended to the second floor, and the third, and the fourth and on up to the seventh, only to find the same, wretched state with one minor difference, this was where they sold electric shavers and batteries, this is where they sell televisions, this is where they sell cell phones. Perhaps this is the most depressing part of hell, it is not imaginatively constructed like in Dante, with a variety of themes in each new realm, but, rather, it is all the same drab and lifeless abode in which the phrase “shop ‘til you drop” sounds like salvation, for at least in dropping off, one can get out.

This was a difficult few hours for me, but I was able to maintain some level of exterior calm amidst the inner turmoil. This was a clear indicator that there is still much work to be done there, however.


a pillar of peace in an ocean of madness

After this, Daniel, Daniel, and I decided to go back home, even though it was maybe only three. We were tired and hungry and wanted to get out. So we went back to Hirakata and ate some okonomiyaki and then returned to campus. One Daniel (the one not in any of the pictures in my posts thus far) went off to study while the other Daniel came back to the Seminar House with me to hang out and eat candy. We sat and talked through dusk. While one would think that spending an afternoon cooped up in the dorm while Japan is just beyond the gates (well, it’s actually in the room to, albeit hidden under all the English spoken), this was quite nice. Daniel is becoming quite a good friend. It was 9:30 or so when we were hungry again and ready to get food. Generally speaking, it’s been my experience that Japan closes down fairly early in the night. But perhaps it’s just because it is such a quiet place. Walk through a neighborhood at any hour of the day and aside from a crow hollering (did I mention that their crows speak a different language?) or a cat meowing (cats, on the other hand, still speak cat), there is nary a sound to be heard.

We knew there was an izakaya (the Japanese version of a tavern) nearby, so we decided we’d go there and get some food. Of course, izakayas are meant for drinking and snacking more than eating a full meal. But we got some food (I got some kind of vegetable pizza, which was nice because that’s a rarity in this country), and left and headed back. Even though the day seemed a bust, it ended on a good note.

I have become convinced that if I want to do sightseeing, I am best off doing so on my own. I tend to travel from place to place faster than most and move slower once there. This unusual rhythm tends to not work in group settings (that and groups take a while to make decisions and get moving).

So on Sunday I woke up early (7:45am!) to go to Kyoto and see some temples. I made a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich and put it in my pack and was on the train by 8:45. I bought a bus pass that would allow me to move about freely (usually they are 220 yen/ride, which can add up, the bus pass is 500 yen). Of course, I had to wrestle with a vending machine to get it. But I prevailed.



I started at Myoshin-ji, which is a large, active temple complex (housing some 24 subtemples) in the Rinzai lineage of Zen Buddhism. Walking along the main path through the complex, I heard some chanting from a nearby temple and stepped through the threshold and listened for a few moments.



I walked further and came across a temple, Taizo-in, that is famous for its gardens and sumi-e painting of a man catching a catfish. I paid the admission fee and walked in. Again I heard a bell sounding and people chanting. I lingered near the sound of chanting and admired the catfish painting for a few minutes before heading down to the gardens.

At the entrance to the garden are two rock gardens. These were quite nice. After a few minutes of enjoying them, I heard a small bell ringing in the bushes. I turned to look in that direction and saw a white cat with a pink collar jumping out from the bushes. I watched it as it looked at the rock garden on the left, and then on the right. It looked like it wanted to jump in the rock garden, and, after clawing at the rope nearby, it hopped on it, walked around, and dig around. For those unfamiliar with the rock garden, they are usually very pristine, very well-kept arrangements in which the gravel is raked in a particular way and all leaves and other objects are removed or deliberately placed. The little trickster cat came by just to make sure no one was getting too attached to it.

The garden itself was beautiful and quiet. There was a couple there trying to take a picture with a timer, but they were unable to make the run quick enough so I pulled out a little Japanese (shashin o torimashoo ka?) and took their picture. They were nice enough to return the favor.





I then went to another temple in the complex, this one famous for its painted walls and doors.




two of many, many beautiful paintings. i have not included my favorite, because it could not be photographed. i have some video that may make it's way online someday (like all my video)

After that I hopped a bus for Nanneji, another large complex. I arrived at the very large gate and noticed something that I've noticed at other places.

Good and evil have no self nature; Holy and unholy are empty names; In front of the door is the land of stillness and quiet; Spring comes, grass grows by itself. Master Seung Sahn

Do you see in the picture those two guards at either side of the gate? They are very frightening, no? (kowai desu ne!). Well I've read about this in a book and it's like the only symbolic understanding I have of the statues and architecture here (I'm in desperate need of a book), so I will pass on what I've learned to you, since such frightful characters may seem confusing, especially if found at the entrance of a Buddhist temple, which is generally thought to be peaceful and calm. The one of the left has his mouth closed, while the one on the right has his open. This represents the opposites -- closed/open; life/death; sacred/profane; good/evil. They are frightening figures because at the threshold to enlightenment is fear. These are the demons that keep us from walking in the center. Fear of death, fear of pain, fear of living an uncomfortable life, fear of being alone. Thus, when walking through the gates, one stands at the center of the opposites, touching both and knowing them to not be but two sides of the same coin (a la the yin-yang). And, in walking through, one sees the fearful apparitions as they really are. These monsters are just wood, just statues; these fears are just illusions.

After wandering a bit, I continued down the road to Ryoan-ji, which is famous for its rock garden (of which you've undoubtedly seen pictures, but I'll post one anyway). A picture is nothing, this is a garden that needs to be experienced. I was overwhelmed by it. I am unable to say anything more about it.




After spending a good while at Ryoan-ji, I continued down the road to Kinkakuji or the Gold Temple, which, unlike Ginkakuji (the silver temple) is appropriately named.




And then, exhausted, I returned home.

My experience in Japan thus far has been great. It is a bit strange to walk around at first. Despite the refined aesthetic sensibilities of the Japanese art forms (from gardens to paintings to architecture), the cities are quite dreary and modern and lifeless feeling... full of concrete and shopping malls and fast food restaurants. I think American cities (Philadelphia, San Francisco, Boston, New York -- Manhattan at least), each have different personalities but ultimately are well planned and good looking. A trip to downtown Kyoto, however, will reveal a city that is not nearly as beautiful as American cities. But, in spite of this, there always seems to be some magic lurking around the corner. And that is how Japan is seducing me.

Classes began last week and are all looking good. My Sumi-e course is going to be a challenge (as I have no painting experience with such things, brushes and paint and the like; I've got more than a few gold stars from fingerpainting though), but I think it will be rewarding. My Japanese classes seem like they'll be great. My spoken Japanese professor is energetic and and the class looks like it'll be challenging, but not unbearably so.

My reading and writing class in Japanese is also fun. I'm finding it to be almost like a philosophy course. It's because kanji are full of depth of meaning. For example, today we learned the kanji for weather (天気 -- pronounced tenki). This may seem rather benign at first, until we recognize that the first character (天:ten) means "heaven" and the second character (気:ki) means "spirit" (in the sense of the general mood or feeling of something). So weather is the spirit or feeling of heaven. I think this is quite lovely. We also learned the kanji for げんき (元気 -- genki, meaning healthy or energetic -- essentially in good spirits), which again features 気（き) but this time with the kanji for "origin" (元:gen). Thus, the word genki means something like original spirit. Our original spirit is healthy, energetic and good.

With this and hearing Japanese all the time, I am finding myself more and more drawn to language (both Japanese and in general). Communication is such a wonderful thing, and I always hate it when I am unable to do so. My inability mixed with my desire in the cauldron of possibility will hopefully yield a nice potion of understanding (are you enjoying this, Brady? :wink:)

Until next time, さようなら (sayoonara)。