Life and Death

Today was a lovely sunny day, so I decided around noon to go out. I wanted to take a little hike up to Mount Daimonji, behind Ginkakuji, but I misinterpreted a sign, took a wrong turn and ended up in a cemetery. I like graveyards, so I walked through the rows a little, and it certainly proved worth it.

It was a most interesting cemetery indeed – in front were the normal tombs I have seen so often before on Buddhist graveyards. Many of the tombs were modern, but here and there were old ones, huges stones with inscriptions and here and there a stone torii in front of them.

Further towards the back, however, there were tombs of a different kind: Still in massive stone, one could find ones with inscriptions in Hiragana, Latin, and even in English; with names engraved in Katakana. There was even one with an inscription in Portuguese. On one tomb it said “Do not stand on my grave and weep. I am not here, I do not sleep. I am the thousand winds.” Never before in Japan had I stood on a Christian graveyard. It felt odd somehow. Japanese tomb with inscription of John 11:25The inscription above is a translation of John 11:25, by the way.

Guests

My landlady had guests last week – and because she lives in a very small Japanese house, she had them stay overnight with us in, well, the guesthouse. They left in the early afternoon today for Osaka.

Not three hours later we noticed that our toilets were blocked, both of them… Thank goodness my landlady was around and with the help of our usual builder – who came after 6 pm, on a Friday night! – and a lot of running water, we have now at least one fully functioning toilet again.Things like this do happen on occasion of course, but you can imagine my landlady was not entirely pleased.

There were a few other things that made that visit not too pleasant for her, but I am not going to share them here. I can share one of my own experiences with those guests though: When I came down to the bathroom on Monday morning, I noticed – even in that almost brainless state I occupy the first two hours after getting up – that some of my toiletries were gone: shampoo and soap were missing, and somebody had obviously used my hairbrush and face cream. I was glad one of the new guests was there, so I complained; I mean, who else could have done this?

It turned out that her husband had appropriated my stuff because he thought that those were things left behind by former tenants. I’m sorry – what? You come into a shared house, where you know several people are living right now, and the first thing you assume when you enter the bathroom is that the stuff on the shelf is abandoned? I have to give it to him: He was the first one in all my 18 months of living here to have had that glorious idea…

At least they didn’t take much, and when I complained I got everything back. Also, when I checked my kitchen shelf just before, I found two newly abandoned bananas, and we have a large stash of toilet paper. In case of any more geniuses moving in in the future, I have now labelled my basket of toiletries with my name though.

Poetry Game

Last Monday, suitable for the Culture Day, there was a traditional event that goes back about 1000 years, centred on one of Japan’s favourite pastimes taking place in Jonangu shrine which is equally old and lies in southern Kyoto. The event is called kyokusui-no-en and it is a kind of poetry game or competition involving multiple poets, a little stream, and enormous amounts of sake.

The idea is as follows: A number of poets sit on the banks of a little stream that flows through Jonangu shrine. They all have to compose a tanka – a poem of exactly 31 syllables – on a predefined topic, in a predefined amount of time. How long they have is determined by the stream and the sake: Little sake cups are released upstream and when they reach the last person, the poets must be finished, and then all the poems are read aloud.

I arrived at the shrine – after a trip of 90 minutes, and I hadn’t even left Kyoto just yet – about one hour before the event started. The shrine is very large and has two beautiful gardens with stones and trees and big koi ponds and streams in between. It seems that the cherry blossoms are famous there, but even now the gardens are a beautiful sight. When I arrived at the appropriate part of the garden, I was surprised to see that benches had been set up for the spectators, not just for the honorable paying guests, but for all of us. Never before did that happen, maybe the event was just the right size for this to be feasible.

Another nice surprise were five ladies giving a little koto concert before the main event started. Usually, the spectators are expected to wait in silence until the start of the main performance, but I think everybody was pleasantly surprised. The koto is a traditional Japanese instrument, but they played comparatively modern songs – they had a melody…

The main event – I’m still undecided whether to call it a ceremony, a game, a competition… – started at one o’clock with all the participants, all dressed beautifully in elaborate Heian-style costumes, entering the garden from the main shrine building: First a few attendants from the shrine, then traditional musicians and a dancer, then the seven poets who would take part in the game, and two children who carried long bamboo sticks and were charged with an important role during the game. I’ll get to that in a moment. Important ChildrenFirst, there was some traditional Heian-era court music, thankfully short, and a dancer gave a performance, with traditionally prescribed movements, all executed very precisely, and certainly with a lot of meaning behind each gesture, decipherable only for the initiated. Dance performance

Then, the seven poets were shown a scroll – I assume that the topic of the poem they had to compose was written on it – and then they took their places along the little stream. Reading the topic (?)

On each place there had been prepared a little cushion and a tiny table with writing utensils: ink, brush, and paper. When they were settled and ready to write, the first cup of sake was released upstream. Writing poetry

The cups were mounted on little duck-shaped boats and, as the stream was rather rapidly flowing, they picked up quite some speed. Probably because of that, there was not a single sake-duck released, but quite a number of them, although I could not count them from my vantage point. I did notice, however, that, although the stream was comparatively broad, that sometimes the little ducks would get stuck, and this is where the two children came in. With their long bamboo poles they were supposed to help the sake on its way, and they did so by wandering around the stream and the poets with earnest faces and a grave manner.

When the last sake duck had reached the last poet, all poems were collected. A group of five men dressed like priests would sit down on the platform where the dancer had given her performance before, and then would read each poem. First, the name of the writer was announced (and probably also the poetry school he came from, but I am guessing here) and then the poem was read once by one person, and then by all of them, both times in a kind of chant, as I have seen before at religious ceremonies. Obviously the topic had been somehow related to autumn, I could make out words like trees, colours, leaves, autumn, momiji…The reading of the poetryDuring the reading, more sake was sent down the stream, and this time I could see some of the poets drinking a cup or two. Howver, most of the sake was probably imbibed by the koi in the next pond… Anyway, after all the poems were read, the poets, dancers, and musicians left the garden. I thought there would be an announcement of a winner, a best poem nominated, but I was told that was not the purpose of the meeting. I know, however, that in the Genji Monogatari (*), where this game was already mentioned, there was always talk about people writing good and bad poems, so I think that in the olden days, there was probably lots of judgement going on… Heian court ladyAfter the poets had left, there was a purification ceremony at the same little stream. People were invited to buy a little piece of paper in the shape of a man or woman, handle it in a prescribed way and then release it into the stream, to the incantations of a priest. Again, the two children were there and gently used their bamboo sticks to guide the prayers and wishes on their way.

(*) The Genji Monogatari, the Tale of Genji, is one of the oldest Japanese novels, written in the 11th century by a lady in waiting on the Heian court. Apparently, the game had already taken place then in the same shrine as now.

Bunka no Hi

Today is the Japanese Culture Day, bunka-no-hi, which has the purpose – what a surprise – to promote culture and arts, but also academic studies.

The first Culture Day was celebrated in 1948, as this was the day when the Japanese postwar constitution was announced two years earlier, in 1946. However, November 3rd had already been a holiday from 1868 – 1912; it was then celebrated as the birthday of the Meiji emperor. When he died, the practice ceased of course, but in 1927 the day became again a holiday, called Meiji-setsu. Hence, today has been a holiday – albeit under varying names – for about 130 years in total.

Kyoto national museum ticketAs I had last week off so to speak, I did my bit to appreciate culture, although not everything I thought I would. I went to the Kyoto National Museum and saw their normal collection in the newly built Heisei Chishinkan Wing, an interesting, brand-new building that had been opened in mid September this year.

From a friend I received a ticket to the International Print Exhibition, Australia and Japan, which is held in the Kyoto MunicipJapanese Australia Print Exhibitional Museum of Art until November 9th. There were prints (woodblocks, lithographs, engravings, etchings, modern photo prints…) of 38 Australian and 106 Japanese artists. There were some very striking pictures, but interestingly, I generally preferred the Japanese prints over the Australian ones.

Today, in celebration of the holiday, there is an interesting ceremony related to poetry going on in one of the shrines of Kyoto. The shrine is quite in the south of Kyoto, and I will have to leave soon to get a good spot for taking pictures. I shall write about this on Wednesday.

Free time!

I have a week off with no appointments whatsoever! My soroban sensei has his autumn vacation this week (which he spends by going to Italy and teaching soroban there) and my German-Japanese tandem partner has a lot of irons in his fire right now, so he too cancelled our meeting this week. Hence: I have vacation too! There are a few things I’d like to do:

Tomorrow seems to be a market at Kamigamo shrine, which might be nice, and nearby is the botanical garden of Kyoto which is probably very nice although it is still too early for the momiji.

Also, a friend of mine has given me a ticket for a private house that once belonged to a potter and which is still in the original state and functions now as museum for his works.

Speaking of museum: The Kyoto National Museum currently has an exhibition of so-called national treasures of Japan, often beautiful pieces of applied art, which I had wanted to see anyway.

And, finally, there is an interesting ritual involving rice cakes in a shrine not far from my place on Saturday…

Well, let’s see what I can accomplish this week. To be honest, I never had anything against lazy vacations with lots of books and chocolates either…

Calendars

One of my favourite places to go is the local Loft store on Sanjo street. It is a Japanese chain selling accessories, small household goods, stationary, travel goods,… For some reason I have always loved paper – the smell, the texture – and I love to browse the stationary goods at the Loft, which occupies the whole third floor. There are notebooks and files, birthday cards and letter sets, fountain pens and pencils, and all the other little things you never even knew you would need on your desk.

And right now, they have calendars. Lots of calendars.

Well, right now is not really true: Those calendars are occupying about a quarter of the third floor space between mid September of any given year to mid June of the next year, that is nine months – three-quarters of a year!

Japanese people seem to love calendars, and they come in every conceivable colour (from decent black to bright pink or gold), in every conceivable size (from palm-sized cuties to sturdy A4 things), for every conceivable customer (from CEO filofaxes to primary student Mickey Mouse agendas). It really seems that everybody in Japan has to have one of those calendars despite everybody having a smart phone these days.

So, why are they sold for such a long period of time? It wouldn’t take any of us that long to decide on a calendar, would it? The reason is that there are two New Years (well, actually there are three, but the middle one is not celebrated much these days). The first New Year is the one the rest of the world celebrates too: January 1st. It is quite a big thing, with lots of ceremonies, some of them religious (first shrine visit of the year not later than January 3rd), others more mundane (visiting relatives, eating particular food, noting the first time of doing something). I am not entirely sure whether this is a traditional time for gifts as well, beyond the ubiquitous New Year’s cards, but a new calendar for the coming year sounds like a very good idea for it.

The second New Year is much less celebrated, probably even dreaded by not a few people. No, it is not Chinese New Year, traditionally at some day in February. I mean the new fiscal year, which starts on April 1st (no joke). Hence, there are calendars in Japan having April as the first month, and I can see that if you are a business owner, or maybe an accountant for a large company, this could be handy.

As I said, I love paper, and I have been wandering through the almost endless aisles with calendars left and right for many an hour in the beginning of this year. I did not really need one this year, but it would have been nice to have one – preferably in froggy-green – and so I thought I would wait until in a month or two they would go on sale. Interestingly, no such thing happened. The January calendars were simply replaced by the April ones, and I only noticed that the hype was over when they did not take up quite as much space than before.

In the end I decided that I would indeed need a 2014 calendar, but I bought only a very cheap one for a few hundred YEN from the Muji store – another favourite place of mine… But that’s for another post.

Gardening

Today was a quiet day, it was very cool and even started to rain a little in the afternoon. Today was also the day the gardeners came, and they took a whole day for their work. Ebisu’s has not much of a garden to speak of, at least not for European conceptions, but here in Japan, even in this neighborhood, it is considered quite large. Our landlady occasionally tends to the garden herself, but once a year she hires the professionals. Or so I hope they are…

I am not sure whether this is because they only come once a year or whether this is the general Japanese concept of gardening, but their approach to the idea can be described as “brutal”. All day the two of them were hacking away at our little jungle outside; I could hear power saws cutting through arm thick branches, leaf blowers, and brushcutters. They even cut the trees and bushes at the top of the steps, although technically this would be the upstairs neighbour’s responsibility (that house is not inhabited though).

When I returned from a quick shopping trip in the early evening, the garden looked more like a sand desert than a green refuge. The trees have been severely cut back, no more grass can be seen at the front of the house (my landlady keeps toying with the idea of simply paving it over) and all the bamboo is gone at the back of the house. It looks quite sad indeed. The only consolation I have is that in this hot climate, it will all grow back again next spring…

Matsuri!

Yesterday was the matsuri of Yoshida shrine, which I consider “my” shrine, as it is less than 5 minutes away from Ebisu’s. It was a matsuri as many others I have seen before, but on a much smaller scale, it felt almost intimate.

As I got the timing wrong, I was very early and could see the preparations. Some things were ready: The main mikoshi had been prepared and the seats for the priests, the musicians, and the local dignitaries who would be present during the religious ceremony. The three carts that would be carried or drawn through the streets: a large cask of sake, a small mikoshi, and some sort of sacred tree, decorated with paper. Mikoshi of Yoshida shrineOthers were still in the making: Four Taiko drums were set up at the main square of the shrine and carefully covered to shield the skins from the sun before the performance. People who would be participating in some way or the other, would get dressed: the dignitaries mentioned above, the students, both male and female, who had the honor to carry the mikoshi through the streets, the children who would accompany the parade. little samuraiThe two students who would play the important role of the lion got into their costume – and into their role. I could ask them a few questions, they were highschool students and it was not their first time. The lion – shishi – who accompanies the parade is performing a lion dance – shishimai – and part of that dance is to chase and bite little children, in order to bring them luck in the next year. Apparently their parents like that idea better than the kids though… mask of a Japanese lionFinally, the preparations were over, and as a sign that something would start happening, the musicians took their seats. Then, the dignitaries formed a lane through which the priests – five of various ranks, distinguishable by their robes – would walk toward their seats in front of the musicians, then the dignitaries – all dressed in black ceremonial kimono with gray hakama – would take their own seats opposite the priests.

The ceremony started with the usual bowing and consecration rituals. Then the priests got up and went to a small shrine, and, while the musicians played a tune – well, a single tone, actually, that sounded both creepy and hallowed – they transferred the kami of that shrine into a little portable shrine, and from there to the large mikoshi that had been prepared. Then, more bowing followed, and each of the dignitaries made a small offering to the kami in front of the mikoshi. When that ceremony was over, the people gathered for the parade. start of the paradeUnder the drumming of the taiko the parade started out from the main shrine, uphill past four other, smaller shrines (I am never sure whether they have anything to do with Yoshida shrine or not) and then, the parade meandered through the neighborhood, with a drum upfront, the two mikoshi behind – carried by a large group of girls under many washoi-screams – and the lion doing his dance to scare, I mean, bless the children. Yoshida matsuri parade

Drop

The typhoon last Monday night has thankfully more or less bypassed Kyoto. Unfortunately, we can feel the aftermath: The temperatures have dropped quite considerably since then.

The afternoons are still nice and sunny, with wonderful bright blue skies and temperatures in the mid-20s. Mornings and nights, however, have suddenly become much cooler. Last evening, when I was sitting at my desk in my room, I was for the first time contemplating getting the heater out, but I then opted for a blanket instead. Also, although I am now closing my windows over night, I still wake up in the morning because I feel cold. Don’t worry, I have not yet maxed out the number of blankets I am using, nor the layers of clothing I’m wearing!

I am a bit worried about winter though, how cold it will get. If it will be like the summer was – with a dense blanket of clouds above the city virtually every day – it will probably be relatively warm (for rather cool definitions of “warm”). But if there are lots of clear days, it will become very, very cold indeed. Have I mentioned that I have recently noticed a crack in my wall through which I can look outside…

Repairs

The big typhoon that was supposed to hit Kyoto last Monday night did – just like the last one a week before – bypass the city, thank goodness. Last Sunday, our landlady came to prepare the house: opening all the windows just a little bit, so there would not be too much pressure on any side (apparently, if there is, the whole house could blow out); removing anything from the outside that could be blown around and thus cause damage; tying unremovable things down; securing the bicycles by laying them down… In the end, there was some rain and some heavy gusts of wind, but not in the least as serious as everybody had feared. Towns on the East coast have not been quite that lucky I have heard…

So, our house is still standing, and thanks to the recent repairs on the roof there was no leakage. Or, at least, not in the expected spots… About half a year ago, I told the landlady about leakage on the ground floor: During heavy rain, the drainage on the back of the house cannot quite handle the amount of water, and the overflow came through the back door into the house, into the narrow pathway between the kitchen and the entrance area which is level with the outside (the kitchen itself and the rest of the house are elevated above ground by maybe 40 cm).

construction sign

Then, the problem was fixed, chiefly by installing a new back door with a higher threshold and new floorboards in the pathway inside. I watched as it was done, and already then I was suspicious of the threshold, which is nothing more than a piece of wood laid down and covered with plaster. It looks solid, but it certainly is not!

The proof for this came Monday night: As the drainage problem outside has not really been addressed, the overflow from the heavy rain slowly leaked through the threshold and even seeped up through the floorboards. I have informed our landlady about this – I wonder what is going to happen this time. The solution would be rather simple, but I wonder if I should dare suggest it…