Summer is Coming

It seems as if I can finally store away my winter sweaters. Despite a few setbacks, it is now warm enough for t-shirts, even in my office. As I’ve mentioned, my office is the coldest room in the house, today, it was 4 degrees cooler than my bedroom directly upstairs. Upstairs is generally warmer, being under the roof and all, and you can really feel the change in temperature when you’re walking up and down the stairs.

Pumpkin also notices the change in weather, he doesn’t want to sleep in my bed anymore. He still likes to be in the bedroom at night, but he now chooses to sleep next to the bed. As long as I know where he is, I don’t mind, after all, he is a typical cat and during the night always morphs towards the middle of the bed somehow.

There’s not much news otherwise, besides me being busy. My visa is up for renewal again, I have sent all the documents to my lawyer, but we’re waiting for a last tax receipt to arrive. A friend of mine is in the country somewhere and is contemplating visiting Kyoto too, possibly next week. And there’s an upcoming Bati-Holic concert at the end of the month that I’m very much looking forward to!

The Priestesses of Ise and Kamo Shrines

Tomorrow, the Aoi Matsuri is taking place, the first of Kyoto’s three big festivals. For the first time in 4 years, a parade will leave the Imperial Palace, visit Shimogamo shrine, and then go on to its final destination, Kamigamo shrine. Of the 500 or so people taking part in the parade, the Saio-dai, who rides in a special palanquin, is the heart of the Aoi Matsuri. These days, she is chosen from among the best families in Kyoto, but in ancient times, she was a daughter of the reigning Emperor.

The Saio Dai in her palanquin

The practice of sending an Imperial Princess as priestess to Ise shrine started – according to the ancient Nihongi, whose accuracy is doubtful – around the year 92 BCE. The Nihongi states that at that time

“The gods Amaterasu and Ōkunidama were formerly both worshipped in the Emperor’s Palace Hall. But the Emperor Sūjin was frightened of having so much divine power concentrated in one place. Accordingly, he entrusted the worship of Amaterasu to the Princess Toyosuku-iri, bidding her carry it out in the village of Kasanui in Yamato.”

Subsequently, Amaterasu expressed a desire to be moved to Ise.

Becoming a so-called Saigu at Ise shrine was more involved than a mere appointment, at which time the Saigu was around 12 years old. The preparations and purifications took three years, during which the maiden lived at Nonomiya shrine outside of Kyoto in today’s Arashiyama. Only when she was properly prepared, was she allowed to return to the Palace for one last time. There, she received the “Comb of Parting” from her Imperial father, whom she would never see again. This is because her office lasted until

  • the Emperor died or resigned
  • the Saigu died or became disabled
  • either one of her parents died
  • or ceased to be a virgin (or worse, became pregnant).

Once Buddhism was introduced from China in the 8th century, it quickly took hold at the Imperial Court. However, Ise shrine was the centre of Japan’s Shintoism, and in order not to offend the old gods, a number of interesting speech taboos were imposed upon the Saigu and everybody else in her retinue. For example, Buddha was called “The Centre”, priests “hair-long”, and temples became “tile-covered places”. Other words with changed meaning revolved around death (recovery), tombs (earthen heaps), illness (taking a rest), and blood (sweat).

The tradition of sending a Saigu to Ise shrine ended in 1342, however, even today, Imperial Princesses take an important role in the worship of Amaterasu at special ceremonies.

The Saio or Saiin – the Imperial Princess serving at the Kamo shrines – was modelled after the Saigu of Ise. It is said that during the Kusho War between the Saga and Heisei Emperors, the former prayed to the gods of Kamo. He promised to send a daughter to the shrines if he would win the war. Subsequently, the first Saio was sent to Kamo in 818, and the practice continued until 1204.

In Kyoto, Aoi Matsuri is the largest festival connected to the Saio of the Kamo shrines. However, in October, the Saigu Gyoretsu Procession at Nonomiya shrine re-enacts the sending of a Saigu to Ise shrine, as she travels through the famous bamboo forest and purifies herself in the river.

Both festivals are unique to Kyoto and provide a fascinating glimpse into times long past. Definitely worth watching!

Neighbourhood Pastime

It was Golden Week last week, with three national holidays in a row. Many Japanese take this opportunity to travel, and Kyoto is usually quite high on the list of domestic destinations. I don’t like the crowds, so I stayed home and looked for something else to do, and since the weather was “golden” as well, I chose to do some gardening.

To be honest, I haven’t touched my garden at all since moving in, and as the house stood empty for a year before that, the garden needed quite some work. And despite my efforts, it’s still not finished.

So far, I cut down two tall bushes that had grown all the way up to the second floor. I also trimmed the bushes just outside the living room. And with a bit of luck, I also found all the vines that clung on to most of my plants and which formed a clump of green around the drainpipe at the far end of the garden. There is still a lot to do, and part of the problem is that I’m reluctant to do something too radical…

However, there is one thing that I consider finished, for now at least: I cleared the embankment at the stream behind my house. This is a strip of concrete maybe three meters above the stream and another two below my garden level. As many of my plants hang over, dead leaves and old branches have been accumulating down there. So, even though it may not be my responsibility (knowing Japan, it probably is) I cleared all the dead branches and leaves, leaving only the live plants. I like the way it looks now, the blue bell flowers are already starting to bloom down there. It’s like an extension of my garden.

Interestingly, gardening seems to be the favourite Golden Week pastime in my neighbourhood. I’ve seen four of my neighbours working in their own gardens, and judging by the number of bags with leaves and other greenery debris I saw at the last garbage collection, many more must have done the same. I guess I’m fitting right in.

The Maxims of Ieyasu

I’m currently reading a biography of Tokugawa Ieyasu (1543 – 1616), the excellent strategist who united the nation (after quite some preparatory work by Oda Nobunaga and Toyotomi Hideyoshi) and who became the first shogun of the Edo period. His family effectively ruled Japan for more than 250 peaceful years.

At this point, I don’t want to go into details – I haven’t finished the book yet – but here are what is generally known as the “Maxims of Ieyasu”, which I found insightful and inspiring.

  • Man’s life is like going a long journey under a heavy burden: one must not hurry.
  • If you regard discomfort as a normal condition, you are not likely to be troubled by want.
  • When ambition arises in your mind, consider the days of your adversity.
  • Patience is the foundation of security and long life: consider anger as an enemy.
  • He who only knows victory and doesn’t know defeat will fare badly.
  • Blame yourself: don’t blame others.
  • The insufficient is better than the superfluous.

Especially the fourth maxim about patience is something Ieyasu practiced extensively. There is the famous saying about a bird and what measures to take if it doesn’t sing.
Oda Nobunaga would kill it.
Toyotomi Hideyoshi would force it to sing.
Tokugawa Ieyasu would wait until it sings on its own accord.

10 Years

10 years ago today, I moved out of my apartment in Germany and made my way to a friend’s place where I could stay overnight, half way to Frankfurt airport.

10 years ago, minus 2 days that I mostly spent travelling, I arrived in my first home in Japan.

The 10 years since have changed me quite a bit – or maybe, it was Japan itself?

I have learned new skills, and have tried and seen things I had never known the existence of before.

I have changed my outlook on life and have become calmer than ever, not so much worried about the future anymore, or what people might think of me.

I have lost my last family member (still have some relatives left), made new friends and lost touch with old ones.

I have made a new home for myself in a country and among people that I still find strange at times.

What will the next 10 years bring?

How to Fix Japanese Amido

Even though it has been quite cold the last few days, summer is swiftly approaching, and with it come open windows and plenty of critters to take advantage of them and invade houses. In an old house like mine, insects can come in through all kinds of nooks and crannies – not to mention badly closing windows. That doesn’t mean I have to invite them in, however. So, it is always a good idea to keep the amido fly screens in good working order. Luckily, the process is quite easy – here is how it’s done.

Start with taking the amido out of the window. On the top sides of the amido are usually little guides with screws; once they are loosened, the amido can be pushed upwards and removed.

Lay the amido on the floor, outside on top. The actual screen is fastened with rubber tube all around the amido. Remove the tube (just find one end and pull it loose) and the screen material. Now is the perfect time to clean the amido.

From spring onwards, you can buy rolls of fly screen that are enough for several amido. Put the roll down on the amido and cut off as much as you need, plus some 5 cm extra or so. It’s a good idea to secure the screen to the amido with clothes pins or something similar to prevent it from moving and make the next step easier.

Now, put a new rubber tube into the groove all around the amido. This can be a bit tricky because the tube has to be pushed all the way in so the screen is not only secured, but also as taut as possible. Special tools are available for this, but if you’re careful not to tear the screen material, this can be done with the handle of a spoon or something similar. Make sure the tube is fastened carefully at the corners.

Finally, cut the protruding screen with a box cutter and put the amido back into the window. Congratulations – all done!

To be honest, I was quite apprehensive the first time I had to do this, but it was much easier than I had expected. In fact, the most difficult part was to get the amido out of and back into the window. I’m not sure if this is normal, or just due to my old house and its crooked windows…

Cutting the screen is also a quite messy affair, with lots of little pieces of screen ending up everywhere. Doing this job outside or on a plastic tarp makes the final cleaning much easier.

As I mentioned, buying the supplies is easy come spring/early summer. Screens come in grey and black and in different quantities, depending on how many amido there are to repair. While this is a personal choice, you must be careful to buy the correct diameter rubber tube. Too thick and it won’t fit, too thin and the screen will not stay in place (ask me how I know that…) It’s best to cut off a few centimeters of the old tube and take it with you when shopping. It may be possible to reuse the old tube, but over time, rubber becomes brittle, so it’s probably not the best idea; and the savings are minimal.

The screen material itself is also getting brittle over time and will break eventually (even without a cat jumping through it.) Yet, fixing amido is not something that needs to be done every year. Shoji are a different animal, however, but that’s another story.

Busy…

Just a short heads-up that I’m fine, just busy.

Yesterday, I was out almost all day, for no less than three press-previews of a large exhibition that started today. It’s really fun to get to see exhibitions before they are open, plus a guided tour and plenty of other information. Sometimes, there are other goodies too…

But at the same time, it means that I’ll have to move other work around, and then I’m extra busy on the days leading up to and after such an event. But overall, it’s worth it!

Kimono Folding

On Wednesday, when I talked about the absence of wardrobes in traditional Japanese homes, I also mentioned in passing that Japanese clothes are folded in a special way, so they can be stored lying flat in a tansu. Here is a quick video that shows you how to properly fold a kimono or summer yukata:

What she doesn’t show is that at the end, the thus folded kimono is wrapped into paper before it is put away. It adds an extra layer of protection from dust and critters, and often, these paper wrappings are very pretty in themselves.

The Lion, the Witch and the … What?

Last week, I mentioned that there is no good place in my new bedroom for a Western-style wardrobe. When some of my friends came over a while ago for a very belated house-warming, I told them the same thing, to which one of my Japanese friends responded with the following:

When he was a child, he read the Narnia books. There, the whole adventure starts when the kids step through an old wardrobe. My friend said that he couldn’t understand the concept of “wardrobe” at all. And indeed, Japanese people – at that time at least – didn’t use wardrobes like we know them.

Several different Tansu

Instead, there was the tansu, a traditional chest with drawers – but obviously, it’s a bit hard to “step through” to the other side. Then, there are oshi-ire, built-in closets that are found in almost every traditional room. But they have a shelf halfway up as well, and are used chiefly for storing futons during daytime – also not very convenient for a quick “stepping through”, although it would be conceivable for a small child to do it.

Anyway, this then led to my question: How did you store things that are usually put on hangers, like suits? Answer: Neatly folded inside the box they came in, inside a tansu or oshi-ire. Just like kimono, hakama, and other traditional garments. All of them require a special way of folding before they are wrapped in paper and stored for the next time.

Thinking about this, I found it interesting how our own cultural experiences shape the understanding – or lack thereof – of other cultures, and that from a young age, apparently. Even though I read stories from all over the world as a child, I can’t remember any grave misunderstandings like the above. I wonder if it never happened (maybe there were always plenty of illustrations at hand) or if my mind just filled in the blanks with familiar shapes, clothes, sounds… It’s probably the latter, but I’m not sure if this is a good thing.

Daitoku-ji

In the north of Kyoto lies Daitoku-ji, the “Temple of Great Virtue”. It is not one single temple, but rather a sprawling complex of 22 subtemples located on 27 hectares of land. Daitoku-ji belongs to the Rinzai sect of Zen Buddhism, and in fact it is the headquarters of its own branch of Buddhism.

It was founded around 1315 by the monk Daito Kokushi with imperial support as a small monastery. Like many buildings in Kyoto, the temple was destroyed during the Onin Wars of the 15th century but was rebuilt later. Therefore, the main buildings of Daitoku-ji – altogether National Treasures – date back only to the 15th century.

The main buildings of the temple are the vermilion Sanmon Gate, the Buddha and Dharma Halls, the Abbot’s Quarters, as well as a Bathhouse and a Sutra Library. In front of the Sanmon Gate lies the Chokushimon (Imperial Messenger Gate) that was moved here from the Imperial Palace.

These buildings, although they are not usually accessible, can all be viewed from the main path that leads through the temple and is lined with large pine trees. Smaller paths lead to the gates of the different subtemples that are all more or less independent and were added to the complex over time, often founded by noble families.

Daitoku-ji saw a boost in prominence in the late 16th century when Hideyoshi donated land and money and had the remains of Oda Nobunaga and his closest family buried in the specially founded subtemple Soken-in. I’ve posted about Soken-in before, to my mind it’s not the most exciting of all the temples of the complex.

Daitoku-ji is also connected to tea master Sen-no-Rikyu, who had the vermillion Sanmon Gate renovated. A popular story has it that he placed an image of himself in the second floor of this gate, which enraged Hideyoshi so much that he ordered him to commit seppuku.

To this day, the whole temple complex is a living monastery, where monks learn, teach, and practice Buddhism. Therefore, many of the subtemples are generally not accessible to the public, except for short viewings during select times.

One of the most important subtemples is Shinju-an, which was founded in 1491 in memory of Ikkyu Sojun, who was essential for the rebuilding of Daitoku-ji. He was a rather eccentric priest, and Shinju-an treasures his memory with fusuma paintings by contemporary artists. It is also the place where the fathers of modern Noh, Kan-ami and Ze-ami, are buried.

The subtemple Daisen-in is one of the most important Zen temples of all Kyoto. It has fusuma paintings by Zen monk Soami, but the important thing to see is the dry landscape garden that stems from the Muromachi era. It depicts the Chinese idea of paradise, and its pebbly waters flow all around the main hall.

Juko-in is the family temple for Sen-no-Rikyu and his descendants, and thus plays an important role in Kyoto’s tea world. All the heads of the three main family branches of tea ceremony are buried here. Juko-in is also famous for its16th-century fusuma paintings by Kano Eitoku.

Most of the subtemples of Daitoku-ji hold important treasures of Japanese history, may it be their buildings themselves, their fusuma paintings, or Buddhist statues or other relics. While they may seem all alike to the casual observer, it is worth looking at the little details that make all the difference.

As mentioned, the subtemples are only accessible at select times. On most days, 2-4 subtemples are open to the public. Daisen-in, Zuiho-in, Koto-in, and Ryogen-in are open throughout the year, many others for short periods in spring and autumn or during special occasions. This makes Daitoku-ji one of the quieter places to visit in Kyoto and fun to explore.