Zen Garden, Bamboo Grove, Shinto Shrine, Imperial Palace--All in a Hard Day's Sightseeing Work!

Monday, June 30, 2014

Kyoto, Japan

 A Zen Garden, A Bamboo Grove, A Shinto Shrine, An Imperial Palace—All in a Day’s Sightseeing Work!

 Not needing to rush out anywhere this morning gave us a chance to enjoy a leisurely breakfast in the Dining Hall of the Via Inn Hotel where we re-connected with our friends over fresh bread rolls, salad, fruit and soup. Then, having chalked out a route for our last sightseeing day in Kyoto, off we set, well-sustained for some strenuous walking.

On the Subway to Arashiyama:

            In the far north western end of Kyoto is Arashiyama, an area well-frequented by visitors for its interesting nooks and crannies. Having equipped ourselves with a Day Pass for unlimited subway and bus rides, we rode the subway to the last stop and then hopped into a bus (No. 71) to the first stop on our sightseeing agenda for today.  It was a long and slow journey through narrow lanes of a modest village but after we crossed a river over a wide concrete bridge, we arrived at the Zen Garden we had travelled far to see.

 The Zen Gardens on Tenryuji Temple:

            Because we were all temple-d out, we did not spend any time venturing inside the important Zen Temple of Tenryuji; but because its gardens are so famous for their Zen Buddhist minimalism, we decided to spend the 500 yen to take a tour. Known to be among some of the best ‘stroll’ gardens in Japan, these did not disappoint. As we strolled at our leisure on what was another uncomfortably humid day, we took in the multitude of low growing cherry trees (that must be quite spectacular when in blossom), the several low-growing maple trees with their very tiny fine leaves and the dozens of hydrangea bushes that were in full bloom in a variety of vivid colors as they were planted strategically around the ponds and pools and fountains of this magical space.

            By this time, we had learned that Japanese gardens are of two types: Dry gardens that represent the Earth—these are recognized with their white sand and pebbles in which geometrical patterns are raked; the second kind are Wet gardens with ponds and pools that represent the Ocean. Tenryuji’s gardens have both and there are also well-shaded areas (as a result of taller, well-established cypress trees) where the ground is covered thickly with moss and ferns. And as you saunter through these narrow lanes bordered with bamboo fences and stone paving, you meander through the traditional ryokan (homes) with their wide dark wooden verandahs that have shoji doors occasionally left open so that you can glimpse the tatami-mat covered floors within. It was very cool, very romantic and we were glad we made the long hike to this part of Kyoto which is nestled at the foot of the mountains that ring the city.

 Sauntering in a Bamboo Grove:

            At the northern end of the garden is a little wicket gateway that leads to one of the most magical parts of Kyoto—the Arashiyama Bamboo Groves. This is well touted in all the guide books which is why it is so popular. You suddenly find yourselves on a narrow pathway lined with brown colored low bamboo fronds while towering above you and enclosed on both sides of the fence are bamboo trees. The sun filters softly through the lush foliage of the well-formed trees as they softly dapple the forest floor. It makes a perfect location for a long romantic walk and such venues just beg to be photographed—although, as the guide book rightly points out—pictures do not do it justice. Of course, there isn’t very much to do in this part of town—other than gawp in delight at the soft quality of the light that at times is so soft as to be barely there at all. Needless to say, Llew and I took several pictures as the path curved softly at intervals. This is an excursion I would most heartily recommend to anyone visiting Kyoto because I am not sure this sight or this experience can be replicated anywhere else in the world.

 On the Bus and Train Again to Fushimi-Inari Taisha:

            With not a moment to spare, we retraced our steps back to the Main Kyoto Station on the bus and the subway line in order to catch yet another bus that would take us to our next port of call—the Shinto Shrine of Fushimi-Inari. Now you might wonder why we would make an excursion to yet another temple—but the fact is that in Kyoto it is not the case that when you have seen one temple, you have seen them all. Far from it. While the temples might share similarities of style and design, each one is slightly different in an extraordinary kind of way. And here at Fushimi, the Shinto shrine is world-renowned for its ‘tori’ or vermillion gates in the shape of a giant T that are repeated endlessly so as to create tunnels of tori that fascinate the visitor.

            So although the bus ride to the temple on the No. 5 bus was long-drawn out and wearying, it took us to this incredible spot where, once again, we expended a great deal of film in order to capture the superb atmosphere of the place. Fushimi was conceived as a place to celebrate bounty and in keeping with that aim, there are stone sculptures of foxes all over—said to be symbols of plenty. In their mouths they carry stone keys—said to be keys to the city’s granaries. Visitors are so fond of these foxes that they tie little red bibs around their necks.

            We spent a good one hour in this lovely spot as we walked under the arched tunnels caused bv the tori that had sutras from Buddhism painted over them in Japanese script. Occasionally, there were dark metal lanterns that swung from the low roof lines—as evening falls, this area must appear truly enchanted as the soft glow of these electric lights meet the century-old romance of the vermillion tunnels.

            But, of course, we could not wait to find out what it must look like at dusk for we needed to get to the next spot on our agenda—a Visit to the Imperial Palace of Kyoto.

 A Tour of the Imperial Palace of Kyoto:

            A few days ago, Llew had obtained a permit pass that would allow me to take a one hour tour of the Imperial Palace which is located in the sprawling Imperial Park in the middle of the city of Kyoto—he had taken it alone a few days ago. Our tour was at 2. 00 pm and we were told to arrive there 20 minutes prior to its commencement.

            Grabbing ham and cheese sandwiches form a subway station, we ate our makeshift lunch on a bench in the Imperial Park and then quickly arrived at the start of the tour where our permit slips and passports were checked before entry was permitted.

            Our tour began with a film screened in a Waiting Room where we were taken through the paces of our tour. It lasted about ten minutes and then a guide materialized. In heavily accented English and wearing a portable mike, she then led us on a tour of the palace precincts that lie concealed behind extremely heavy, ornamental gates. I have never been on a tour with so many people—there were at least 200 from many different parts of the world. The tour wound its way through the royal structures each of which has an interesting indigenous name and then through the gardens at the back that are created in accordance with the principles of Zen.

 Overall, the tour was disappointing as we did not go inside any of the buildings but merely saw them from the outside. The guide explained the Kyoto was the capital of Imperial Japan for a thousand years and saw the lives and times of several emperors—until the capital was moved to Tokyo. Most of the furnishings of the palace have been moved to Tokyo and the buildings, although gorgeous from the outside, are quite empty within. We did have a glimpse into some of the old rooms with their ancient screen paintings of cranes and cherry trees and tigers and, in another room, of men enjoying a garden party. But, except for these minor aspects of history, there was not much that the tour offered. And, I suppose, after a whole week of strenuous sightseeing, we are slightly jaded at this stage. At the very end, she showed us a grove of topiaried pine trees that are deliberately shaped into bonsai-looking specimens by the painstaking pulling away of individual pine needles that simply boggled my mind.

 A Badly-Needed Afternoon Nap:

            By this time, both Llew and I were exhausted from all the walking and climbing we had accomplished during the day and so we decided to return to our hotel at 4. 00 pm for a quick nap and a spot of tea. And that was exactly what we did. Both of us slept for a good hour after which we brewed some tea in our hotel room. We also figured out what route we needed to take for our train journey to Hiroshima tomorrow morning.  By 7 pm, we decided to go out for a ride again to explore the Food Halls of Takashimaya—but by 8.00 pm, the store was closing for the day. We would have an early start tomorrow, so it made sense to get dinner somewhere close by.

 Dinner at Ippudo:

            Since we had enjoyed the gyoza (dumplings) and ramen noodle soup at Ippudo, we decided to return there tonight and indeed we had a repeat of our meal—except that this time we ordered the spicy soup which was absolutely delicious. Together with the gyoza and Asahi beer, we had a very enjoyable meal and upon finishing it, we lost no time getting back to our hotel.

            A hot shower later, we were ready to hit the sack having set the alarm for 5. 30 am so that we can accomplish the long train journey to Hiroshima and the neighboring island of Miyajima at the crack of dawn.

            Until then…sayonara.                        

Strolling Along The Philosopher's Walk

Sunday, June 29, 2014
Kyosan-Kyoto

The Philosopher’s Walk

Buddhist Temple Service at the Crack of Dawn:
Given our unusual sleeping arrangements (on the floor), we slept surprisingly well although I did awake a couple of time during the night, only to fall swiftly back into slumber. But having set our alarms for 5. 30 am, we washed quickly and hurried downstairs for the daily prayer service. As it was a Sunday, Llew and I felt as if we were attending Sunday Mass.

The Main Temple Hall of the Daein-In Monastery is ornate—filled with two dozen lamps that lend it a golden glow. The Main Altar is an elaborate blend of image, flower and fruit offerings, hundreds of sutras concealed in decorative cases. The fragrance of incense wafted all over us. Sharply at 6. 00 am with devotees scattered on their haunches on the floor (there were also chairs at which most of us were seated at the back), the chief priest or monk arrived and the chanting began. I am not sure which sutra was being chanted but it was rather musical in its own way and fairly rhythmical. This continued for an hour in a kind of litany that was akin to the recitation of the Catholic rosary. The faithful were invited at one stage to make their way to the altar as individuals (which most of them did although we remained seated as observers). The hour-long prayer service ended with a fifteen minute sermon by the monk who had welcomed us into the monastery and exactly at 7. 15, it was all over. We were then invited to file around the main temple to take in its many visual aspects from close quarters—which we did—before we left the temple.

Breakfast Time in the Monastery:
While we were at service, the little elves (novice monks again) had been hard at work. They shuffled their way around the premises (I never ever saw them walk normally) and had laid out our breakfast in the Dining Hall—once again in two neat rows facing each other low stools had been arranged with the multiplicity of little china bowls and plates. Once again, Llew had to content himself with kneeling through most of the meal as he simply did not know how to tuck his knees around his feet in a dainty or comfortable fashion.

We ate a small quantity of steamed white rice washed down with miso soup in which floated some strips of nori and bowl of unsweetened green tea. Tofu featured as whole sweetened beans (slightly larger than broad beans or Lima beans) and a small set round cake that floated in a sweet syrup. It was a most unusual breakfast and while I cannot say that it was delicious, I guess you could say I found it edible. However, I have reached the conclusion that this sort of authentic monastic fare is not really my cup of tea. In general, I am finding Japanese cuisine much too insipid and lacking the complex combination of flavors that one finds, for instance, in Thai food with its sweet, sour, hot contrasts. But for the sashimi (raw fish) which is wonderfully delicious, I haven’t really taken to any aspects of Japanese cuisine.

Return to Kyoto:
As the return journey to Kyoto would take us no less than four hours, right after breakfast Llew and I bid goodbye to our colleagues who had decided to stay on, and made our way downhill with two other friends, Vandana and Maggie in tow. The journey was an exact reverse repeat of the previous day—bus, ‘cable car’, long train journey down the mountains to Hashimoto, change of train and ride to Shin-Imamiya, then train to Osaka and train to Kyoto. Because our leader Maggie wished to make a Noh Theatrical performance back in Kyoto at noon, she managed to find us train connections that actually got us into Kyoto at 11. 30 am (about a half hour ahead of schedule).

While the cable car had been interesting and the ride through the mountains was picturesque, the rest of the journey was boring and I should say that there is absolutely nothing about the passing scenery in a Japanese train that is even remotely interesting or pleasing. For most of the time, we passed through suburban sprawl that reminded me very much of the ugliness of Indian suburbs such as Bombay’s with their modern apartment buildings lacking even the slightest element of aesthetics. Even in the rural areas, the cottages and houses are such an ugly cluster of dwellings—had they been in Austria or Switzerland, for instance, the backdrop of the mountains would have only emphasized the cuteness of the dwellings with their pretty colors, chimneys and gardens. I have come to the sad conclusion that except for their formal gardens that are spectacular, the Japanese do not, as a rule, bring aesthetics into their lives. That said, everywhere you go it is spotlessly clean and yet there are few litter bins to be seen. The Japanese, I was told, carry a small plastic bag on their persons—they place their litter in it throughout the day and then take the bag home and get rid of it there! My mind simply cannot grasp such discipline.

Off to Sanjusangendo Temple:
Once we arrived at Kyoto Main Station at 11. 30 am, we were transported straight into the bustle of the city and there were crowds hurrying about everywhere—even worse than New York which at least has a slow start on a Sunday. We used restrooms at the station, then because we were only carrying a few things for our overnight monastic stay, we decided to take the bus to see Sanjusangendo Temple which we had skipped the previous day. It was only a ten minute bus ride from the station and since our hotel would not permit us to check in so early, that was precisely what we did.

Equipped with day passes for the bus network (a steal at 500 yen and easily made up with just two bus journeys), we hopped into a bus. About ten minutes later, we followed the well- marked signs to the entrance to the temple (as a rule, Japanese signage is poor: small, almost always only in Japanese and unobstrusive—so unobstrusive that most times we miss them completely). Very little English is in evidence anywhere. Street signage is only in Japanese, almost no one can speak or understand English—not even the youngest folk we see who supposedly learn it in school—with the result that traveling alone (as we will do for the week ahead) will, no doubt, be much of a challenge despite the fact that we are seasoned solo travelers. We shall see….

At any rate, Sanjusangendo is famed for the multiplicity of its gilded Buddhist deity images called Kannon that stretch out ahead as far as the eye can see. We paid 600 yen each to enter (the most we have paid for entering a temple, so far) and joined a trail of visitors to view the statues. They are truly visually arresting simply because of their number. There are a thousand of them, about 125 made in the 11^{th century, the rest in the 12th—so they are almost a thousand years old and still in almost perfect condition. In front of them are a series of 28 guardians cast in bronze with glass inserts for eyes that give them a realistic appearance. These are Hindu deities that act as guardians of Buddhist temples. Yes, it was worth seeing this sight although I am not sure the steep cost was justified.}

Having said this, I must also add that photography is strictly prohibited and never in my life have I seen as many signs reminding visitors of this as I saw here. Not merely reminders were evident but actual warnings—cameras, they said, would be checked at the end of the trail and, I suppose, would be confiscated if there were any images of the Kannon on them! It is this sort of occurrence that makes me feel very uncomfortable about Buddhism’s commercialism here in Japan. All is geared towards getting visitors to purchase something at every stage—nothing is offered for free. I am not sure exactly how to react to such blatant materialism in a religion whose leader renounced all his worldly possessions to find the way to Enlightenment.

Return to our Hotel:
We took the bus back to our hotel and were caught in the most awful traffic along Kawaramachi and Karasuma which are Kyoto’s main shopping areas with stores ranging from the upscale Takashimaya to the Mom and Pop operations of the Nishiki Food Market. All of Kyoto seemed out doing their buying and the bus simply crawled along on a day that was extraordinarily hot and frightfully humid—not the most comfortable experience in the world. In a bus that only offered standing room, we had an excruciating journey back to our hotel where we placed our bags in the storage area, checked our email (lack of wifi over two days at the monastery found us quickly catching up with the digital world) and then we went out in need of sustenance.

I have to admit, at this stage, that I did something I have never done in any country on any of my travels--I actually sought out a McDonalds because after a week of bland Japanese food, I was ready to sink my teeth into a good burger and ice-cream sundaes. And that was what we had for lunch: chicken burgers and hamburgers and chocolate ice-cream. And for the first time I realized why so many of the participants I had led on tours around the world have ducked into a McDonald’s after a week to gorge themselves on familiar food. Same with Starbucks—perhaps that is why the chain enjoys so much success globally. Miso soup in the morning simply doesn’t cut it when what you want is the steam and fragrance of richly roasted coffee beans and a brew that tastes like nectar of the gods, first thing in the morning!

Back on the Bus to Ginkakuji Temple:
It was time to return on the bus (a journey I was beginning to dread) to explore yet another Must-See Sight—the Silver Pavilion or Ginkakuji Temple which I expected to be a replica of the Golden Pavilion but in Silver. Well, it took us about 45 minutes to get there on the far north eastern side of town practically at the foot of the hills that surround Kyoto. Once again, we lost our way as the announcements on a crowded bus were not conducive to the solo traveler and we overshot our stop. A good fifteen minutes later, I realized we were getting nowhere and on consulting the driver, hopped off to retrace our steps in the opposite direction.

Having lost a good half hour that way, we raced towards the temple which involved another gentle climb up a hill lined with shops lining a narrow lane to enter the complex. There, to my surprise, we spied a two-storied wooden pagoda. It turns out that it was meant to be finished in silver (as a counterpart of the Golden Pavilion at Kinkakuji) but this goal was never accomplished.

Be that as it may, the chief attraction for me, at this venue, were the glorious gardens that were spread out for acres around the Pavilion—both dry (sand) and wet (pond) gardens, they were punctuated with the most incredible moss gardens I have ever seen—they ground resembled green velvet as we walked on superbly landscaped stairs made of large and small stones that went uphill and downhill to present lovely views of the city of Kyoto that sits in the valley. Just for the gardens, it is worth going to see Ginkakuji. I could only image how stunning it must look in the spring when the sakura (cherry trees that the Japanese adore) are in bloom or in the fall when the low slung Japanese maple trees turn red, yellow and orange.

Strolling on the Famous Philosopher’s Walk:
It was time for us to begin one of Kyoto’s most famous walks—from Ginkakuji Temple to Nanzen-Ji Temple. So-called because it follows the daily route of a famed Japanese philosopher, the Philosopher’s Walk follows a very narrow canal that is lined with wild hydrangea bushes in bloom in varied colors and a path set with twin stone trails. It is shaded completely with low cherry trees and must be gorgeous in the spring when they are in blossom. The path is very pretty and is lined with shops and little tea rooms, eateries, bakeries and souvenir stores (but being Sunday, most of them were closed). Still, this forced us to focus on the natural beauty of the trees and their foliage. Occasionally, we passed by smaller temples (a couple of which are reputed to be worth a visit) but since we were hoping to reach Nanzen-Ji before it closed at 5.00 pm, we hurried along at a very fast clip and did indeed meet our goal.

Exploring Nanzen-Ji Temple and Gardens:
Yes, the Philosopher’s Walk is all it is famed to be—pretty and contemplative. But it was an awfully humid day and not at all the kind made for walking. After a mile and half of this sort of pleasure, we were grateful to arrive at the gates of Nanzen-Ji Temple with just fifteen minutes to spare before closing time. Known to be one of the most picturesque Zen temples and surrounded by glorious Zen gardens, Nanzen-Ji is also famed for a particular screen painting on a panel wall: the Tiger Drinking Water. As we did not have the time for it, we contented ourselves with inspecting the gardens that led under a most interesting pink brick aqueduct to a gushing waterfall. The aqueduct, installed in the late 19th century to bring water to the people of the area, funnily enough, is the big attraction for the Japanese who are tickled to see so Western a structure in the midst of a 12th century Asian temple.

As for the temple itself, the two-storied SanMon or Temple Gate is really striking as are the Zen dry sand gardens that surround it. But I have to admit that, by this stage, we were well and truly temple-d out and a little after 5.00 pm, we made our way out of the calming temple precincts to the main road to find a bus stop—surprisingly and to our enormous delight, we found a Japanese man who spoke almost perfect English and did not tell us to tell us to turn "lefto" and "righto" as so many people had done! And so we found the bus stop near the Kyoto Municipal Museum of Art and rode all the way back to our hotel for a little R&R—another awful journey in a bus packed tighter than a sardine can through horrible halting, stop and go traffic.

Needless to say, we were ready to stretch out on a bed so we gratefully checked into our room and after taking possession of our room key treated ourselves to a badly needed coffee and a granola bar (that I had carried for added sustenance on our trip).

Off for Dinner to Gion:
After I showered and found renewed strength, we hopped into a bus again to ride to Gion in search of Issen Yoshuyu in search of Okinomiyaki (the stuffed Japanese pancake) that we had so enjoyed. It was indeed one of the most delicious things we have eaten in Japan and having proclaimed its virtues to our friends, we were not surprised to find that so many of them had found their way to the same eatery. They left soon enough and we were(but being Sunday, most of them were closed) alone—we enjoyed our dinner and then hopped into the bus going in the opposite direction to return to our hotel.

Our evening ended with one last excursion—a hike a few blocks away to the Kyoto Court Hotel where our new friends Pamela and Albert would be spending the next few days (since it was a cheaper hotel). Pamela had a camera cable (which I had stupidly forgotten to include in my baggage) and had offered to download the pictures in my camera whose memory stick had reached capacity. This little errand was quite easily accomplished and, greatly relieved, we returned to our hotel where an exhausted Llew crawled immediately into bed leaving me to blog until almost midnight.

It had been a full and very tiring day and we were ready to call it a night.

Until tomorrow, Sayonara.



　



　

　

　

　




　

Living the Monastic Life in Kyosan

Saturday, June 28, 2014
Kyosan, Japan

Spending a Day in a Buddhist Monastery in Kyosan:
We awoke at the crack of dawn, alarms clocks duly set. Racing through a wash, we went downstairs to the Dining Hall for breakfast—we have come to expect a uniform sameness about the offerings each day—and then set off at 8.00 am exactly for the walk to the subway station that got us to Kyoto Main Station. About 15 of us had signed up to spend a day and a night in a Buddhist Monastery in the mountains of Kyosan, about 850 meters above sea level. It promised to be the experience of a lifetime and I was both excited and unsure about what to expect.


A Long Journey into the Mountains:
It turned out to be the journey of a lifetime! To get there, we had to change several trains—from Kyoto Main Station to Osaka Main Station. From Osaka, we took a Japan Rail train to a place called Shin-Inamiya where we changed trains again. This one took us up the most verdant mountains clad thickly with towering Japanese cedars and bamboo groves. The air grew misty as we climbed higher and higher until we arrived at Okonuin where we alighted from the train and transferred into what is called a ‘cable car’, but which, in point of fact, is a funicular train that went still higher up the mountain in a heart-stoppingly steep incline. We arrived at Okonuin Bus Station in about ten minutes and then boarded a bus that took us to our monastery—in total, a convoluted journey of four hours. It was about 12 noon when we arrived in Koyasan together with hordes of Japanese pilgrims and weekenders for Koyasan is a popular hill resort among the locals of Osaka and Kyoto and is often used as a retreat from urban stress.

Checking Into Daein-In Monastery:
The stroll along the winding mountain road leading to our monastery took us past little shops selling strange items: tasteless snacks, bottles of sake, cheap souvenirs. But in a few minutes, we were entering the distinctive monastic gates of a religious establishment and were met by a monk who in extremely halting English conveyed the essential information to us: Shoes had to be removed at the entrance and a pair of slip-ons had to be, well…slipped on! These were to be our footwear during our entire stay there; dinner was at 6 pm (we were told to assemble in the Dining Hall no later than 5.55pm); baths were only to be had in the evening (from 4. 30 till 9.00 pm only) in the Communal Bath (separated by gender) at the end of the hallway—we would learn the protocol that governed the taking of baths later in the day; main gates closed by 7. 00 pm—if you needed to stay out later, you would need to use a small side entrance. Well, that was it really.

It took us only a few minutes to realize that we were in a traditional Japanese ryokan (home) complete with sliding shoji screen doors, painted wall panels, tatami mats underfoot. We were shown up to our rooms after keys were handed over: some of us had rooms on the ground floor that opened out into the most adorable rock and water garden (had we the time to spend in it, I’d have been jealous); the rest of us had rooms up one flight of stairs—we had views of the roof tops of the monastery and of the forest-draped mountains of Kyosan. Equally stirring, equally idyllic. Llew and I entered out room tentatively. We saw a low-slung polished wooden table, twin cushions on the floor on either side of it. On the table were pages from the Buddhist sutras complete with calligraphy pens (we were expected to spend some time practicing our sutra-copying skills). Painted screens concealed cupboards that held our bedding—mattresses and comforters (but these would be made up later). There was a large wooden box on the table—inside it was a china kettle and twin cups and a box of green tea leaves together with an electric kettle for boiling water. And wonder of wonders—in this serene, monastic place, there was a TV (Llew was delighted to be able to keep up with the FIFA 2014 games). No, there was no attached bathroom—we had to walk to the end of the corridor to the toilets and basins and baths (as described earlier) were one floor downstairs.


Lunch in a Small Cafe:
There wasn’t much time to lose as most of Japan’s temples close their doors by 5 pm. Our long journey had caused hunger pangs and the mountain air contributed to making us feel as if we could devour a horse. Maggie, our tour leader, called Lunch Time which we decided to spend in the main town. Off we went to find a suitable spot and ended up in a little place called Maru Man where Llew chose the Katsu Rice Curry and ended up with a most delicious meal (I have to say that the curry was better than some we’ve eaten in India, if you can believe it!) and the breaded pork cutlet that accompanied it was equally good. I chose the Soba Noodles with Chicken and Leeks and after doctoring it with soya sauce and chilli powder had a fairly good meal—the soba noodles made with buckwheat were very healthy and I was sure I was gaining in nutrition what I might have lost out in taste. Still, it was a good economical meal washed down with Japan’s Asahi beer. Not a bad lunch at all.

Temple-Trotting Once Again:       
Koyasan is all about temples. It derived its importance as a pilgrimage center from the fact that an important Buddhist monk from China called Kobo Daishi—popularly known as Kukai—made his way to Japan’s remote mountainous settlement of Koyasan where he initiated a new sect of Buddhism that is one of Japan’s most practiced today. We saw dozens of pilgrims wearing the traditional robes of their sects all over the town as they traipsed from one temple to the next achieving the stamps of the sites.

Out first stop was Kobo…where Kukai established the headquarters of his sect. Apart from the architectural eminence of the building that is traditional in the way I’ve come to recognize in this part of the world, it contained some really beautiful painted screens in the traditional Japanese style dwellings that comprise the complex as well as the largest rock garden in the country. The garden was of special interest to me and as I walked along the covered wooden corridors that link the separate houses together, I was struck by the Zen quietness of these dry gardens with their large dark rocks that stand in quiet contrast to the tiny white pebbles that surround them. These pebbles are regularly raked in decorative patterns around the rocks and have come to gain their uniqueness in this aesthetic. These gardens are punctuated by the occasional Japanese maple tree that grows very close to the ground or the pine trees that are trimmed, I am told, pine needle by pine needle, in order to achieve the topiaried effect that makes them so distinctively Japanese. In a room at the far end of the complex, green tea was being distributed with a crisp wafer biscuit and it made a welcome spot to rest out feet as we listened to a sermon in Japanese delivered by a monk.

Unfortunately, rain that had threatened throughout our exploration of the complex, came down rather heavily at this point, but I have to say that it added its own freshness to the Alpine landscape and caused mist to hang upon the highest branches of the cedars. Truly, it was beautiful and had the effect of calming one’s mind in the midst of so much holiness.

On to the Mandala Temples:
By then it was close to 3. 30 pm and we were keen to see Koyasan’s hightlights. Maggie informed us that just across the street, along a narrow pathway were the famed Mandala Temples that were spectacular and not-to-be-missed. So off we trooped in the direction of this rich complex as the rain petered off to a slight misty drizzle. And then we were in the midst of another series of Buddhist stupa-like structures that conceal some of the most stirring sights in Koyasan. In one of them we saw a towering gilded statue of the Medicine Buddha flanked by four deities and sixteen Bodhisatavas painted on vermillion pillars. The overall effect was stunning as gilding and incense engaged our senses of sight and smell. Meanwhile, sound was delivered by pilgrims who sat on their haunches close to the altar and chanted a number of sutras that added to the atmospheric feeling of devotion. It was a wondrous sight.

Across the stupa was the Kondo, another building with a statue of the Medicine Buddha concealed in a vast black cupboard. At the back was a mural depicting the Enlightenment of the Buddha. Here too paintings of Kobo Daishi on the wall made for a visual feast that caused us to marvel at the industry and talent of the devotees over the ages. These buildings are several centuries old and are National Treasures (protected monuments) in Japan. Yes, unlike so many of the Cathedrals and churches we have seen all over Europe, they are not just museum-pieces—these are real, vigorous sites of communal worship and personal devotion. Faith is alive and kicking in these spots where the propagation of religious fervor is a priority. So while tourists—like us--might come to gawp at the artistic achievement of these creators, we are also moved by the sights of hundreds of people participating in the rituals of individual and communal prayer and it is a very moving sight indeed.

Off for a Monastic Dinner:
It was almost 5 pm when we finished with these highlights of Koyasan and it was time to partake of the monastic life that we had traveled a long way to experience. So we picked our steps back to our monastery and returned to our rooms to freshen up before assembling for dinner in the communal dining room. Llew was not looking forward to the meal as he finds sitting cross legged on the floor a particular challenge. Our food was laid out in two neat rows as we sat opposite each other across the room. Low stools carried a multitude of little china bowls and plates each of which carried a tantalizing morsel that none of us could identify! Needless to say, it was strictly vegetarian. I mean some items were easy to name: clear miso soup with a few soba noodles and soy pellets floating it in; another cloudy soup seemingly made with a coconut milk base and filled with glass noodles and other tasty morsels—it was easily the most delicious thing I had at the monastery and was made more interesting by the fact that the monk came and lit a little stove under each of our bowls which caused the soup to boil aggressively in front of our astonished eyes; tofu in varied preparations and of varied consistency (sometimes custard-y and at other times firmer); tempura that was light-as-air; steamed squash and crisp beans; the mandatory bowl of steamed white rice (I have not seen brown rice anywhere in Japan); and for dessert… a wedge of fresh pineapple beautifully trimmed and cut. Dealing with chop sticks made the large meal seem interminable to us. Still, it was a wondrous and very tasty experience as meals go and one I am not likely to forget in a hurry.

Ritual Bathing at Communal Baths:
Then came one of the most fascinating aspects of the monastic life—the communal bath! I wasn’t at all sure this was something I could quite handle especially when I discovered that I would need to shower in a large showering hall with no curtains separating one bather from the next and then, stark naked, would need to descend into a vast communal hot bath. Never in my life have I ever done such a thing: even when we have taken communal baths in hot springs (as in Budapest and in the Canadian Rockies at Banff) it has always been with our bathing suits on. To bathe in the company of other women without a stitch was not my idea of relaxation and I have to say I almost backed out of the deal. But then I said to myself that I might as well have the full authentic experience because that was what I had come to enjoy.

And so, clad in the yutaka (Japanese sleeping robe that was provided in our rooms) with a heavy sash, Llew and I made our way to the baths—he to the Men’s Baths and I to the Ladies’. I found that one of my colleagues had beaten me to it and it was she who explained the protocol to me. I had to leave my slippers and my robe in the locker and enter the showering area sans clothing. There, I was to use the soap that was provided and the tiny white towel that was no larger than a small handkerchief (I could use as many of these as I needed!). When I had washed and soaped and cleaned my body thoroughly, I could step into the bath that was steaming gently.

Well, I went through the paces very tentatively being filled with inhibitions about my body and its appearance. But as I soaped myself with my back turned to the other bathers, I somehow found my self-consciousness flow away with the soapy water. A few minutes later, I was slipping into the bath and chatting away with my colleague who was so relaxed that her calmness communicated itself to me. And in seconds, I felt completely comfortable. A few minutes later, more and more of my new friends entered the baths and went through the steps and as each of them entered the space, I felt myself relax more so that, by the end of ten minutes, I had lost all consciousness of my physicality and was attuned only to the serenity of the warm water on my body and the softly lapping sense of waves as they washed all around me. Truly, it was heavenly and I would have stayed there forever, were it not for the fact that the hot water causes dehydration and I began to feel a trifle weak. It was time to drink some water and dry off.

I’m not sure I am interpreting this correctly but I believe there must be some reason for this communal washing. It might have something to do with releasing the consciousness of body image that is so central to our Western mindsets and entering into a new consciousness in which one is fully accepting of the body one is given and indeed becomes contented with me, no matter its shape or size, or color. As far as I know, the quest of the Buddha as he sought Nirvana or Enlightenment, was to try to find the way to liberate human beings from passions and possessions. And perhaps, I believe, from inhibitions or from being judgmental. I think that in releasing my self-consciousness and accepting my body and my physicality for what it is, I achieved some understanding of the calming serenity of Buddhism.

Llew, when he returned to our room, described the exact same sensation in the Men’s Baths—the sense of feeling anxious in the beginning about sharing so private an activity with so many strangers that gave way so gently to complete lack of self-consciousness. At any rate, we were ready to try a hand at practicing the writing of the sutras and of sipping some green tea quietly in our room where we found the beds had miraculously been made up on the floor by silent elves (read novice monks in training) who left us feeling as if we should slip right under the covers. Needless to say, we slept immediately knowing that we were to awake at 5. 30 am for the 6. 00 am temple service in which we were keen to participate as observers.

It had been a most unusual day filled with some of the most unusual experiences we had ever had. But we were glad we had opted to experience these unique aspects of Japanese Buddhist culture first-hand in a real Buddhist monastery. It is not an experience that can be repeated or replicated anywhere else.

Until tomorrow, sayonara

More Temples Today: Kiyomizu-dera and Chion-In Temple

Friday, June 27, 2014
Kyoto, Japan

Hard to believe that a whole week has passed since we arrived in Kyoto to start attending lectures and discussions on Medieval and Pre-Modern Japan. This morning, when we sat down to breakfast with our colleagues, it felt as if we had known each other forever. Academic conferences have a tendency to that do!

At any rate, after consuming the typical Japanese breakfast of rice cakes flavored with nori (which I have been avoiding at breakfast as it is inevitably offered at lunch), assorted bread rolls with marmalade and butter, salad, fresh fruit and soup (yes, I have developed quite a liking for soup in the morning!), most of us were ready to leave the hotel, hop on to the subway and ride to Otani University when our lectures are held.

Listening to Prof. Michael Watson:
Our featured speaker today was Prof. Michael Watson, an Oxbridge-educated British scholar who teaches at a university in Yokohama and has been living in Japan for the past 34 years. Apart from his appearance, he appeared to me to be more Japanese than Emperor Akihito himself! Needless to say, he speaks fluent Japanese and is an authority on Tale of the Heike which is his specialty (among a string of other interests) and it was upon this topic that he spoke this morning. Somehow, in the space of a little over two hours, he managed to present a summary of the entire epic work comprising 12 books and an Epilogue which he brought alive with slides depicting the most marvelous pictorial representations of the story, snippets of music (he even occasionally burst into song himself!) and, often, as most of us professors do, spoke to himself! He was just a delightful presence in the classroom and I thoroughly enjoyed his presentation. Clearly, his knowledge of all aspects of Japanese medieval life is formidable and he was able to convey his love for this material with such passion as to inspire profound interest in his audience as well. I am determined now to attempt to read the work myself (as paucity of time did not make it possible for me to read it before I arrived in Japan).

Bento Box Lunch at Otani University:
The now familiar Bento Box lunch arrived as did Llew—he had spent the morning exploring the Imperial Palace and taking the hour-long guided tour that began there at 10.00 am. He conveyed to me the opinion that the tour was well-guided and certainly well worth taking and as I had requested him to procure a permission pass for me to take the same tour on Monday, I was quite pleased indeed when he produced a pass for me.

We ate our lunches together—fried chicken, rice cakes, picked vegetables, sweet cakes made with azuki (red bean) paste which are delicious and have a very interesting glutinous consistency as well. Discussion involving a round-up of all we had studied continued during the lunch-time breakout session, but then it was time for us to move on to the last section of our program: the afternoon excursion. Various choices were offered to the participants including a hike all the way to the north of the city to a very rural area called Ohara, an examination of the ateliers and studios of textile craftsmen in the city, a tour of three famed Buddhist temples in the east of the city and finally, an opportunity to explore Kyoto alone. Llew and I chose to join Fay who was leading the tour of the three Buddhist temples and before too long, off we went.

Getting Separated from our Group:
We rode the subway together from the Otani University subway stop at Kitoaji Street to the Main Kyoto Rail Station at which point we became separated from our group when Llew went out to purchase a Day Pass for the bus as we had run out of most of the money on our Pay As You Go subway cards. But it wasn’t much of a problem as we were easily able to figure out our route ourselves, Furthermore, we realized that most of the temples close by 4. 30 or 5.00 pm, which would probably not leave us enough time to see three of them.

Off to Kiyomizu-dera Temple, Kyoto’s Buddhist Highlight:
Llew and I, therefore, hopped on to a bus that took us directly to the second temple: Kiyomizu-dera (instead of getting us to Sanjusangendo Temple). Kiyomizu-dera is not just a famed Buddhist temple and, therefore, a great religious and tourist site but is also a fine lookout point in that it offers stunning views of the city of Kyoto. Visitors throng around its verandah which juts out on towering stilts high on a hill underneath which a waterfall cascades down to the bottom. This waterfall is believed to flow with miraculous waters and the faithful can be seen drinking copiously of them at the base of the mountain.

To get to Kiyomizu-dera, we had to hop off a bus and walk (nay, climb) for about twenty minutes. At times, the mountain got steep and we got breathless; but the trudge was made interesting by the vast number of stalls and shops that have mushroomed along the pilgrim path offering every manner of enticement from snacks and sweets to souvenirs. While ascending the mountain, we noticed loads of young and very beautiful Japanese girls fully clad in kimonos and we gathered that they were in the vicinity for a reason. Our guide book soon informed us that there is a shrine at the temple which carries the legend that anyone who passes through two tightly positioned stones with their eyes closed are likely to have success in romance and marriage. This might explain the vast numbers of young giggling girls that we saw participating in the rituals. Apart from this, we noticed a brisk business being carried in the sale of charms—indeed I have to say that I am stunned by the commercial aspects of Buddhism in Japan. Astonishingly, a religion that was founded with the intention of being spread by mendicant monks has become a full-fledged business activity that raises millions. Money changed hands openly around the many temples we have visited in the past few days but at this site, it somehow seemed more pronounced.

This temple was founded in 798 during the Heian Period, but this particular building was constructed in the mid-1600s. Of course, it has been shored up periodically, but it still proclaims its age in an awed manner. We posed for the mandatory pictures on the verandah with the city in the background, then walked along the narrow wooden corridors that cling to the sides of the mountain. In the main hall of the temple, we admired the huge statue of the Buddha and then because we were keen to go on to the Chion-In Temple, we picked our way down the mountain past the never-diminishing crowds to get there. Making inquiries of passers-by, we soon realized that the best way to reach it was on foot.

Exploring Maruyama Park and Choin-In Temple:   
Although we had no choice but to hurry forward, the walk between the two temples was perhaps one of the nicest we have taken in Kyoto so far. It took us downhill on broad stone steps past smaller temples with interesting pagoda architecture, wayside statues of the Buddha, neat little Zen gardens and small traditional Japanese ryokans (homes) until we arrived at the entrance to Maruyama Park where a very prettily landscaped Zen garden leads the visitor to an idyllic zone. And then just a few feet ahead, we were at the next Must-Do Site, the Chion-In Temple.

Entrance to Chion-In’s Temple is free of charge but if you wish to visit its extensive and reputedly beautiful gardens, you pay an entry fee of 500 yen. Unfortunately, we did not have the time to linger too long, and so we skipped the garden. But we did want the see the extraordinary temple bell that is the largest in the Buddhist world weighing 74 tonnes. So off we went, past the stunning SanMon, which is the main entrance to the temple and which has particularly interesting architecture—it appears to be almost checkered in a black and off-white pattern and has interesting pagoda-like curled rooflines.

Here too a climb was involved and as we panted up the mountain, we reached the many structures that make up the temple complex which form the headquarters of the Jodo-shu (Pure Land) sect founded by Honen who made this area his base. As time was short, we were able to simply glimpse the huge statue of the Amida Buddha to whom this temple is dedicated but wondered exactly where we would find the great bell that we had come to see.

It was at this point that we found a group of young monks working hard to polish a wooden corridor in the Ninnaji Temple style. When we inquired of them, in hesitating English, where we might find the bell, one young monk stepped forward with the most angelic of smiles—he could not have been older than eighteen—and personally led us up yet another mountain to the tallest point on the property, in order to show it to us. We were hugely amused and deeply touched by his gesture of spontaneous kindness and generosity and were even more moved when he offered, through actions and gestures, to take our picture posing by the bell. Needless to say, it was an offer we could not refuse. And so there we were, posed by the colossal bell that is the focus of an annual ritual in which thousands of monks come to this site on pilgrimage and ring the huge gong-like clapper that causes the mountain to resound 74 times at the new year. It was truly a sight to behold and once the sweet monk took his leave of us, we walked all around the great wooden hut that holds it in order to behold it from every angle. Indeed as we hurried down the mountain, we felt privileged to have just made it on time as all of the doors of the various shrines were being shut, one after the other. Chion-In is certainly a temple I would advise any visitor to Kyoto to see.

On the Bus to Takashimaya for Retail Therapy:
We used our map to find our way out of Maruyama Park to the Yasaka Shrine in Gion (which we had had visited a few days ago) and so quite easily found the bus stop that would allow us to board a bus that would take us down Higashiyama all the way to Kawaramachi Shijo (station) where we alighted on a whim.

Spying Takashimaya, Japan’s answer to the USA’s Macy’s or the UK’s Selfridges, I decided to go inside and explore…and how delighted I was to find a sale that urged me to pick up a couple of Japanese silk scarves in the softest of spring colors to give away as gifts. Being light, superbly priced and very classy, I was sure they would make a grand gift. So out I walked with my precious finds.

Exploring Nishiki Food Market:
And then we were walking in the crowded main shopping area to get to Nishiki Food Market which Lonely Planet recommends that every visitor should see. It was with some difficulty that we found it but when we did, we were struck by the long alley lined on both sides with food shops selling a variety of strange items most of which were unrecognizable to us. Although we were not tempted to buy anything, it was a great dash of local color added to our rambling and we enjoyed it immensely.

By this time, our temple exploration, the heights we had climbed on foot and the awful humidity of the day had taken their toll on us and we turned to McDonald’s to pick up chocolate ice-cream sundaes to cool off before we found our way to our hotel. There, a long chat with my brother Roger who happened to be in the US through Viber and a short nap followed by a hot shower revitalized us and we were ready for the next item on our agenda.

Partaking of Keiseki--Japan’s Banquet Experience:
Part of the joy of dining in Japan is partaking of a long and elaborate meal called Keiseki and this evening, our organizers, the Japan Studies Association, led us to San-Suzi, a tiny eatery on a side street very close to our hotel.

As soon as we trooped inside, we were instructed to take off our shoes: ah, I thought, this is going to be one of those traditional Japanese restaurants where you sit on the floor (a not too exciting thought considering that it has been a while since we have assumed any yogic asanas!). As it turned out, the restaurant had those sunken tables that allow you to sit low down with feet dangling into a pit—about ten of us sat at each table, our party occupying three tables in a private room. Now Americans are known to be loud talkers—so you can imagine how the volume in that room rose to such deafening decibels as to be quite unpleasant indeed.

Still, we stopped focusing on the sound and turned towards smell and taste as soon as we beheld the feast spread out before us. For appetizers were already placed at each setting: a variety of sushi (vinagered fish with rice) and sashimi (raw fish) greeted us and as we tucked in, we realized how fresh and delicious it was. This was only the start of a string of dishes that were served to each of us in individual servings (as opposed to the family style meal we had consumed a few days ago in Living Bar). And so we went through noodle soup with fresh fish in a clear broth, a whole roasted sardine served with green tea flavored vinegar, roasted eggplant with roast Kobe beef topping it (melt in the mouth tender), a plate of tempura featuring fresh vegetables and a whole tiger prawn, a bowl of brown rice, a container of miso soup and finally a plate of fresh melon and a red bean paste cake—everything was uniformly good but the fish was the star of the show. Needless to say, we savored every morsel.

During dinner, thank-you speeches were made and gifts were exchanged and all housekeeping matters were settled—it was time to say how sad we were to bid goodbye to the nice professors we had met during the week. They had shared their knowledge and their passion for their scholarly endeavors so generously with us that we felt sorry to bid them goodbye.

But as all good things must come to an end, our workshop on Medieval and pre-Modern Japan has ended—at least the formal lectures and discussions are over. We now await the crowning experience: a visit to the Buddhist monastery of Mount Koya-San which we will undertake tomorrow…but I shall let you know all about that then.

Meanwhile, sayonara from Kyoto.

Nary a Dull Moment in Nara & Taking Tea with a Buddhist Abbess

Thursday, June 26, 2014
Nara, Japan

Today was all about superlatives: biggest, tallest, oldest, holiest. It was a day for exploring some of Japan’s most sacred Buddhist sites and to marvel at the devotion and artistry that made such construction possible.

 We were all excited about visiting Nara—a compulsory stop on any Japan itinerary—kind of like visiting the Taj Mahal when one is in Delhi. So, although we are still waking up in the Land of the Rising Sun sooner than the sun itself, thanks to remnant jetlag, we raced through showers and got ourselves downstairs to the Dining Hall for another good breakfast—rice flavored with nori seaweed, a selection of French rolls and pastries, orange marmalade, butter, strawberry jam, fresh grapefruit, salad, soup (I tried the Chicken soup today and found it pleasantly boosting).

            By 8.00 am, the lot of us was in a large coach hurrying our way out of Kyoto and on the highway towards Nara. But before we arrived there, we stopped at Horyu-ji, an important religious and historic site at which point our incredible guide Monica Berthe took over.

Exploring Horyu-Ji Temple:

         After one has explored a few houses of worship of a particular religion, one kind of knows what to expect and look for: like the Mihrab in a mosque, the cathedra in a Gothic cathedral. So too, having already seen the most significant of Japan’s Buddhist places of worship in Kyoto, we know to expect to find the twin guardians called Ah (Open Mouth) and Um (Closed Mouth) at the entrance of the shrines. Tori or entrance gateways, usually in vermillion, denote the point of entry into the sacred precinct. Here at Horyu-ji, we gazed upon ancient wooden structures that go back to the Heian Period (about a thousand years ago). While each temple boasts into own distinctive feature, Horyu-ji’s specialty is its striking pagoda that towers above in five levels, each representing one of the earth’s elements.

            Our guide Monica explained that the pagoda’s construction is based on a single tall wooden post (cut from an obviously tall tree) that is driven into the ground. The floors are then ‘hung’ from it to fan outwards: a particularly clever way to create tall structures that roll  gently from side to side in a land that is plaqued regularly by earthquakes. Apparently derived from Indian sources, the pagoda as a form of Buddhist religious construction is now firmly associated with the Far East. This particular pagoda at Horyu-Ji is the world’s oldest wooden religious building and yet it wore its age lightly. As we moved from one door to the next, we peered into the darkness to see clay images from the life of the Buddha paced under grottos. One depicted the Reclining Buddha in metal—the Buddha on his death bed.

            Right opposite the pagoda in a Hall of Worship were ancient representations of the Buddha covered by elaborate canopies and surrounded by Bodhisattvas and Guardian figures. I was heartened to see these monuments mobbed by Japanese students of all ages who were being led in incredibly disciplined fashion by their escorts and chaperones--most dressed in suits and pill box hats that would any contemporary stewardess a run for her money. These field trips, I was told, are meant to create in them an awareness and appreciation for their nation's grand heritage.

On to Chugu-Ji Nunnery:

            A short stroll later, we were entering the hallowed precincts of Chugu-Ji Nunnery where we were in for a very special treat: Tea with the Mother Abbess, an 83- year old Buddhist priestess who runs the convent with the aid of a single novice, a singularly beautiful young nun who spoke pergfect English with the hint of a British accent. The fact that she has taken tonsure (her first vows) was evident in her shaved head. Monica served as guide as she explained that following in the tradition of Prince Shotuku's mother who had popularized the concept of becoming a Buddhist nun almost a thousand years ago, this nunnery was created for a princess of the Japanese imperial family of the late 19^th century who had entered the convent and ended up running it.

In keeping with her regal stature, the inside of this princess' home that we visited was functional but also decorative: birds and flowers adorned the walls, shjoji screens provided light and privacy, tatami mats underfoot made floor coverings that were comfortable to our sock-ed feet. The entrance to these private female quarters were via the kind of long wooden arched corridors as we had seen yesterday at Ninna-Ji Temple: the ones I have grown to love and that romanticize for me the austere life of a Buddhist nun. Within these precincts is a very holy and very ancient sculpture of the Thinking Buddha, seated with one leg across the other knee, his hand just before his chin in a gesture of contemplation.  It makes this nunnery attractive to tourists and Buddhists scholars alike. While visitors are not normally allowed to go too close to inspect this ancient sculpture, special concessions were made in the case of our group as the scholarly guides who lead us raised funds for its conservation. Thus, we were permitted to encircle it in order to examine its features more closely. I particularly love the frilly skirts that fan around the Buddha in lyrical fashion as he is poised upon the lotus petals. 

Traditional Japanese Tea Ceremony with the Mother Abbess:

            This little excursion was followed by an invitation to Tea with the Mother Abbess of the convent, an 83 year old woman who was beautifully dressed in a rich purple kimono and crisp, white pyjamas reminiscent of the costume of Buddhist monks. Although she did not speak any English, she was able to communicate with us through an interpreter. Most graciously, she led us to an inner room where the traditional Japanese Tea Ceremony was performed with the assistance of a number of women who provided us with sweet refreshment in the form of red bean (azuki) cakes that created a sticky paste in our mouths. This confection was meant to be chased by Japanese matcha (unsweetened green tea) that was sipped from out of heavy earthern bowls.  It was a deeply spiritual experience matched by a quenching of our need for something to nibble on.

            After we had taken tea with this gracious lady, she posed for pictures with us and patiently answered our questions. Never did I dream that this educational and cultural experience in Japan would lead to the privilege of entering the sanctum sanctorum of a Buddhist convent where we were treated like royal guests and quite generously entertained. Before we left, the Mother Abbess presented us with a little souvenir of our visit with her—a colored pamphlet of the nunnery that gave details about its most precious treasures: the sculpted Buddha, a piece of embroidered silk, the inner room of the princess. We were delighted as photography was not permitted anywhere inside.

 Sushi Lunch on the Coach:

It was time for more major refreshment, so we got back on the coach and stopped just five minutes later for a packed lunch: sushi boxes that are so exquisite to behold that one was reluctant to tear them open. But, of course, we did and for the next twenty minutes there was relative silence on the coach as we busied ourselves with the intricacies of eating a packed lunch while on the go. For vegetarians and non-fish eaters like Llew, there was a maki roll which he quite seemed to enjoy.

 A Visit to Todadi-Ji Temple:

            After a bout or two of temple-trotting, each one merges seamlessly into the next as to make it impossible to tell one from the other. So when we alighted from the coach to visit Todadi-Ji Temple, it was basically to peruse towering figures of the Amida Buddha and the Thousand Armed Buddha—both of which are carved in wood, then painted. They are so stupendous that although we could only glimpse them from behind the wired protection of a metal mesh, they were moving in the extreme. The Thousand Armed Buddha particularly is striking because he does indeed have a thousand arms--some no bigger than palms of his hands that stick out like miniature forks. 

 Finally, On to Nara:

            It was time to get to Nara (which Monica pronounced as ‘Nurra’), the frequently visited site that dates back to the seventh century and was created to be the first permanent capital of the Japanese royal family (prior to the creation of Kyoto as a regal capital). It was the grand diocese of Buddhism and the far eastern destination of the famous Silk Road. We parked our coach in the main parking lot and joined hordes of tourists and school children on foot to see the city’s most significant landmarks.

The Koduhu-Ji National Treasure Hall (Museum):

            And then the heavens opened! Rain that had been threatening to flow copiously for days but had been kept at bay by our great good fortune, came pouring down and all but drenched us at the very point when we began to cross the busy streets packed with shika (a thousand sacred tame deer) who come right up to one’s fingers sniffing for wafers that are sold by vendors on the street. With little option but to shelter under the new Museum building before we crossed the park to the Koduhuji National Treasure Hall, we lost a bit of time. But when we did brave the downpour again to seek out the entrance to the museum, it felt completely worthwhile. Inside the new museum building are the most colossal figures of the Buddha Shakyamuni, various Bodhisatavas, the Buddha Maitreya (the Coming Buddha), loads of carved wooden dragons, apsaras or celestial female dancers and innumerable monks and guardians in varied poses with the most carefully drawn-out features. It was an opportunity to discover how much Japan values her artifacts and how carefully and securely they are preserved.  Entry fees of 600 yen per person seemed hugely worthwhile.

The Colossal Wonder of the Daibutsu Statue of Todai-Ji Temple:

            The rain had abated somewhat by the time we emerged from out of the museum to make our way to the piece de resistance of Nara, the Todai-Ji Shrine which is the largest wooden structure in the world and which houses the world’s most colossal Seated Buddha. In dark bronze, the figure of the Buddha is so gigantic that people ate surprised to discover that at the time of cleaning, four Buddhist priests can stand quite comfortably in the single upturned palm of the Buddha’s hand. We watched in awe—not only did we take in the Great Daibutso (Great Buddha) but also the Kokuzo Bosatsu that sits at his side--a female companion festooned in gilding. Two Tamotens or Guardians can be seen and encircled at the back. This statue is all about size and one is suitably awestruck by its dimensions. Built by order of Emperor Shomu in the 700s, the largest bronze Buddha in the world was made through eight castings using the lost wax method and was then heavily gilded—much of the gilt paint has worn out so that the Buddha today appears to be made of black ebony wood. We could easily see why pilgrims and tourists alike would throng these far reaches—the sight of this sculpture can never be easily forgotten.

Homeward Bound:

            By then it was 5.00 pm and we had been instructed to return to the coach for our hour-long ride home. We were all tired but deeply satisfied by our excursion. Although the rain had dampened our enthusiasm, it did cool the place down considerably and so did nothing to quell our spirits. Deeply fulfilled by the day’s discoveries, we returned to our hotel for a bit of relaxation.

 Off for a Dinner of Ramen Noodles:

Having eaten such a disappointing dinner last night, Llew and I were determined to do a bit of research this evening to find ourselves a decent eatery. Lonely Planet to the rescue: we scoured the net and discovered that one of Kyoto’s best ramen noodles place was just a few blocks from where our hotel was located in Central Kyoto.

So after Llew showered and changed and got out of his damp clothing, we strolled a few blocks away to Ippudo Nishikorji and found that many members of our party had had the same idea. About eight of them were clustered in circular fashion around a wooden bar and were slurping away from a grand bowl of noodles in broth. The gzoya or steamed dumplings stuffed with tasty meat and veggie morsels were also praised warmly by Lonely Planet and so Llew and I shared a plate as an appetizer and then ordered the House specialty: ramen noodles in a hot broth with strips of pork, mushrooms and bean sprouts. It was fairly good; but I can say, in all fairness, that I have eaten better. The gzoya, however, were probably the best I have ever had.

About an hour later, we left the restaurant and with a new colleague called Xixea from China who teaches Far East Asian Studies at nearby Fairfield University close to where we live in Connecticut, we browsed about in a book store before going off in search of Nishiki Market which happens to be really close to our hotel. However, since all of it closes at 5 pm, we have little option but to try to cram in into another day.            

      We had covered an enormous amount of some of Japan’s most touted monuments, so we were glad that we enjoyed them unreservedly and found the journey to this historic site most stirring.

Until tomorrow, sayonara!      

 

 

 

 

 

It was Temples,Temples all the way...Kitano, Ninnaji, Kinkaku-Ji

Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Kyoto, Japan

Hit by Migraine:
I most certainly spoke too soon when I said that jetlag hasn't been too problematic. Well, tine zone change plus our sumptuous banquet plus the plum cocktails I consumed last night hit hard and I ended up waking at 3.00 am with what appeared to be the distinct signs of an oncoming migraine attack--which I am increasingly beginning to expect every time I cross time zones and take on a punishing sightseeing schedule. Well, despite the pill that I hastened to take, my condition grew worse--so that I spent the next three hours hopelessly nauseous. There was nothing to bring up but the biliousness was killing, my head throbbed, hot and cold flushes assailed my body simultaneously and I yawned non-stop: tell-tale signs that assure me I will be in agony for the next couple of hours.

Breakfast and Resuming Lectures:
Not surprisingly, Llew chose to awake solo at 6.30 am to get himself ready for breakfast and the walking tour that Prof. Michael Pye was going to lead our group on before we began workshop sessions at Otani University. Naturally, I bowed out of the excursion as I badly needed to catch up on my lost sleep and for the next couple of hours, I slept with the fervent hope that my attack would pass. By 8. 30 am, when I was awoken by Fay, one of our organizers, to find out how I was doing, I was indeed better. I resolved not to miss breakfast as I was starving, By 9.00 am,  Llew had returned from the walking tour and joined me in the dining hall as I inhaled three small croissants with marmalade and butter and downed a soothing corn soup, salad and fresh grapefruit. Feeling quite shored up by this point, I bid Llew goodbye and took the subway alone to Otani University where my colleagues had a head start on the day. I walked into the lecture room about a half hour after Prof. Pye had begun his talk on Japanese Religions but I managed to jump right into it.   

A short break later, we had a second lecture by Prof. Patricia Fister on a fascinating subject that was completely new to me: the role of Buddhist nuns in the creation of Buddhist Art in the Pre-Modern Period. Using slides, she walked us through the creative endeavors of female members of the imperial family during the Heian and into the Edo periods. I came away from the lecture completely enthralled by the contribution of an unknown segment of Japanese female society and their contribution to religious art.

Bento Box Lunch at Otani University:
We are becoming accustomed to this most Japanese of meals: the bento box with its neat compartments offering tantalizing little morsels that are arranged adroitly in the neatest, most appealing fashion. A combination of rice, fish (today it was fried salmon), steamed and pickled vegetables, a bit of steamed tofu and there you have it--a very healthy lunch that keeps us going for hours.

Off to Discover Kyoto's Temples:
There wasn't a lot of time to lose, so we wolfed down our meal as we sat at our desks and chatted with our colleagues and then grouped together under the guidance of Prof. Monica Berthe who is an authority, I suspect, on ALL things Japanese. We took the bus from right across the street to start our exploration at the Kitano Temple where Prof. Michael Pye was our guide.

Exploring Kitano Temple:
On the 25th day of each month, Kitano Temple comes into its own with special devotions offered to the deities to whom it is dedicated. As today is the 25th, our workshop organizers thought it would make sense to include it on our itinerary of Temple Touring--and so we joined the throngs as they passed by endless rows of vendors to the entrance of the temple which, like all Buddhist houses of worship, is divided into several smaller temple structures. We had a chance to watch the faithful at prayer, ring bells to drive away evil spirits, clap their hands twice, bow their heads, walk in Figure 8 circles through adorned hoops, purchase lucky numbers and the accompanying charms that go with them. Indeed a brisk business was being done in the temple courtyard and we watched fascinated as the devotees went through the rituals of their faith.

Then, we were making our way down the long lane lined on both sides with vendors' make-shift stalls that formed a compelling flea market. We did not purchase anything but it was interesting to watch them sell everything from used kimonos, pottery vases and dining utensils, glass, china, porcelain, wall hangings in silk, paper fans with bamboo frames and a number of delicious eats: dried fruit, varieties of nori (seaweed), fresh fruit. But enticing as the wares were, it was a horribly hot afternoon and as the sun beat down on us in over-90 degree heat, we felt exhausted and dehydrated and I was afraid my migraine headache would return with a vengeance.       

Little wonder that we stopped for a bowl of lemon-flavored shaved ice and ice-cream at a wayside stall as we simply had no energy to proceed. Others had cold Cokes or ice-cream and then, slowly, needing to be fairly rustled up like straggling cattle, we entered yet another bus for a ride to the next temple.

The Charms of Ninnaji Temple:
The next temple on our agenda was Ninnaji and boy, what a delight it was! Ninnaji is everything you think of when you utter the word 'Japan'. A temple that dates from Heian times (meaning that it is about a thousand years old), it also served as the temple for the Japanese royal family. This meant that no pains or expenses were spared to bring the grandeur of everyday life into the sacred precincts of a temple.

We left our shoes at the entrance and in our stocking-ed feet walked across the tatami mats on long wooden covered corridors that connected small rooms to one other. Although ornamental, there was a basic minimalism about the aesthetic of these buildings--in dark wood, they are covered in tatami mats. Occasionally, the corridors which often ended in the private quarters of the women of the imperial household, overlooked gardens of which there are two distinct kinds: Dry Gardens are composed entirely of sand that is raked periodically in decorative ways, often by Buddhist nuns, as to produce uniform designs that lead the eye towards spaces beyond or enable the eye to focus on the object immediately in front of it; the second kind is Wet Gardens, i.e. ones that include a pond and are constructed around the flowing water created by gentle cascades.

Everywhere Japanese cypress trees gave the landscape the distinctive look of a Japanese garden. My London-based followers will remember how much I love the Kyoto Garden in Holland Park--well, these were similar...only much larger and lacking the proud peacocks that strut around there.Stone lanterns set into the ground provide light after dark. Rocks and stones are used to incredible advantage to trace out stone paths, walls or create spatial partitions. As we entered the most royal of the apartments (spaces in which the women were allotted private quarters and permitted to interact with one another without coming in contact with the outside world)--something like a Moghul zenana or a Turkish harem--we saw beautiful paintings in the classical style on the walls, mother-of-pearl adornment on the low slung seating and shoji screen doors that opened out into charming vistas that provided views of pagodas, tea rooms and the gentle descent of waterfalls. I could just imagine Lady Murasaki seated at her epic Tale of Genji in just such a situation--no wonder her creative juices flowed so abundantly! Needless to say, to my architectural eye, this combination of structure and garden was so delightful that I took an endless number of pictures as I tried to capture the curve of a particular roof line or the romance of a concealing screen or the shadows cast on the water by a stone island.

With difficulty, we pulled ourselves away from this sensual treat and made out way back to the entrance. We had the choice of visiting the Ryonaji Temple whose Zen rock garden is one of Kyoto's most famous--but we did know that with just one more hour to spare before the temples closed for the day (most shut their doors at 5 pm), we had time for just one more--and I wanted to make it our piece de resistance. So, in the blazing sunshine that was hugely uncomfortable, we waited for the next bus to take us to Kinkaju-ji  Temple that most people would agree is Kyoto's most stunning single sight.        

The Glory of Kinkaju-ji Temple:
Kinkaju-Ji Temple is referred to often as the Golden Pavilion and for all the right reasons. It is composed of a single double-storeyed pagoda that is completely covered in gilt and topped with a golden phoenix. It sits on its own little island surrounded by a reflecting pool that is, in turn, surrounded by Japanese cypress and cherry trees--so that no matter what the season Kinkaku-ji Temple is a stunner. It provides the perfect backdrop for pictures and I joked that it would be the perfect setting for our next Christmas picture--and so we promptly got one of our new friends to click a picture of the two of us, Llew and myself, with the golden pagoda behind us!

Apart from exclaiming at the sheer beauty of this monument, there is not much to do at this spot--we encircled the temple, climbed up a few steps that led to a hill, the highest point in the complex. And then, feeling quite wiped out by the heat, we sought the bus stop to return to the city as Kinkaku-Ji is in the northern reaches of Kyoto.

However, since Llew and I had the Day Pass for unlimited rides on the local transport services, we separated ourselves from the group and took a bus back to Kyoto Train Station as I was keen to do some window shopping.

Window Shopping and Food Sampling to our Heart's Content:
The good thing about traveling at this stage in our lives is that we no longer feel the urge to buy anything as we keep wondering where we will accommodate it in our home! So, we are more than content to window shop and, believe me, Japan offers the most amazing opportunity to do just that. When we arrived at the Main train station, we crossed the street to enter the building that immediately offered retail therapy in the form of department stores like The Cube and Isetan. I was keen to see the Food Halls as I was aware that the Japanese have a unique way of displaying and offering eats for sale. And there they were: no two boxes were the same, no two shelves were adorned in the exact manner. Everywhere we looked we saw eats that were so unfamiliar that we had absolutely no idea what they were--and yet they were enticing and attractive because the packaging is so exquisite.

In the Food Halls on the lower floor, we were offered all manner of samplers from pickled vegetables to rice crackers. There were jellied delights that the Japanese seem to adore--some studded with real flecks of gold leaf--in mouthwatering colors and we got to sample them too. They tasted of peanuts and had the consistency of jelly--so very different from anything we have ever eaten!

A Disastrous Dinner:
But after an hour of this pastime, we decided to call it a day and entering a subway train, we returned to Shoji-Dori where our hotel is located. We still had to find a place to dine and deciding to keep it simple, we settled for Nishiki, a place that was recommended by the receptionist at our hotel. Sadly, it turned out to be the worst choice for a number of reasons: firstly, we were placed in the open courtyard at the back on a really warm and humid evening when air conditioning would have been most welcome; secondly, a noisy group of eight teenagers occupied the table right besides us and were as rowdy and raucous as you can imagine. When I inquired if we could be moved, I was informed that all other tables were reserved. When the wait staff appeared, their English was so bad and our Japanese being worse, we could only point to dishes on the menu to indicate what we wanted: Pork Ribs in Sweet Sour Sauce (turned out to be tasty but so thick with fat and crackling as to be inedible to the two of us who like our meats lean) and a bowl of what I thought would be chicken broth with buckwheat noodles but turned out to be a glutinous mess of boiled chicken chunks, eggplant and mushrooms that was so insipid and flavorless as to be equally inedible. It was not a meal to write home about and I think I should stop right here.

So that was our day: scorchingly hot but aesthetically pleasing. Ending with a terrible meal but offering all the local color of a flea market on a day when the faithful came out in droves to offer prayer and thanksgiving. A day that started with me feeling awfully under the weather but ended with me giving thanks that I had managed to find the stamina to keep going without missing a beat. If ever there was a day of unexpected contrasts, it was this one.

As we leave Kyoto tomorrow to discover Nara, we are looking forward to a day of greater fascination--here's wishing it will be a bit cooler.

Until then...Sayonara!