TsukuBlog

A Brief History of Buraku Discrimination in Japan
As with any aspect of human culture developing over a long period of time, Buraku discrimination is not something that can be comprehensively described in a short essay. It is a subject that is difficult to explain in terms easily understood by people outside the culture. Nevertheless, I will attempt to give an overview of how this insidious form of discrimination developed in Japanese culture and why it has been so difficult to eradicate. I will be basing most of my observations on a textbook (“Korede Wakatta! Buraku no Rekishi” – “Now I Understand It! Buraku History”) written by Uesugi Satoshi, a lecturer at Kansai University in Ōsaka, Japan, while adding a few points I have gleaned from other sources and from my own observations.

Sense of Defilement: The Underlying Rationale
A key concept in understanding any such form of religiously sanctioned class discrimination is that of “defilement.” What is it that makes something or someone “defiled” and “unclean?” The basic concept is that something is “defiled” when it is out of its “proper” place in society. This is, of course, related to the basic worldview that was common to almost all ancient societies – namely that the natural order of nature and its relation to human society are controlled by events in the realm of the gods and by the whims of the gods. Thus, placating these gods through magical incantations and ceremonies, together with “purifying” whatever is thought to be defiled, was of paramount importance in maintaining a stable society.

As this animistic worldview was the basis for understanding everything within society, before applying its implications to the issue of buraku discrimination, let’s first get a clearer understanding of its operation in ancient Japanese society. As a window to this way of understanding the world, let’s look at two common Japanese words that give us insight into this ancient mindset. “Tenki” (天気), weather, is made up of two characters, “ten” (天), “heavens,” and “ki” (気), “feelings.” Thus, the concept is that the weather is the result of the “feelings” of the “gods.” If the deity or deities involved were angry about something, violent or otherwise unfavorable weather would result, and this had to be dealt with by the religious authorities. Shintō priests are referred to as “kannushi” (神主), literally, the “lord (主) of the gods (神)” – namely, the one who can placate (control) the gods through prescribed rituals and magical incantations. Thus, removing whatever was perceived to be offensive to the gods was given utmost importance in ancient society, and this was the underlying rationale for ostracism and its resultant discrimination.

So, let’s consider what it was in ancient Japanese society that was thought of as “kegare” (defiled). Actually, it was pretty much the same as in essentially all other ancient societies, including that of ancient Israel, as is portrayed in Leviticus and certain other sections of the Old Testament. Things having to do with death and blood were considered “defiled.” Even such a joyous event as the birth of a child fits into this category, since it involved blood, and thus that too had to be “purified.” Interestingly, the Japanese word for a wound, “kega” (怪我), is related to “kegare” (穢れ) (a less pejorative, alternative writing is 汚れ, also read “yogore,” which is “dirty” in a more general sense), and it is written in an entirely different way from what it is in Chinese, from which most such Japanese words are borrowed. (In Chinese, it is written, 受傷, to “receive an injury or mar.”) The implication of this is that this concept predates the introduction of the Chinese writing system into Japan, and so has probably existed from when humans first began populating these islands. (The characters used were simply chosen to match the pronunciation of the already existing word, with little relevance to their actual meaning, which in this case is “strange self.”) As this concept is critical in understanding buraku discrimination, I will return to it later, but first, let’s set the historical stage.

The Vicious Cycle Sets In
While the roots of discrimination date from early human history, the particular form we see in buraku discrimination had its beginnings in Kyōto from around the 10th century AD. Kyōto was the center of power and culture in those days, and as society developed, the gap between those with wealth and power and those without widened. Those who could not pay the high taxes that supported the noble class were ostracized and forced to lived in undesirable areas, such as in river flood plains. It was the fear of such ostracism, then, that encouraged the rest to endure the high taxes. Much like day laborers in modern Japan, those who were marginalized ended up doing the “3-D” jobs (dirty, difficult and dangerous) that society needed done but which nobody wanted to do.

One such job was the disposing of dead bodies — a particularly “defiling” task. (And in the context of that ancient worldview, there was thus a second level of “3-D” — defiling, demeaning and despised!) In 1015, a plague struck Kyōto, forcing its society into a crisis mode. Without the removal of dead bodies, there could be no return to normalcy, and so those who were already viewed as “kegare” were pressed into service as “kiyome” (purifiers). Needless to say, this was a vicious cycle, as these “kiyome” were then viewed as being even more defiled. The undesirable land that was designated for them was thus not taxed and was viewed as simply “outside the system.” This led to a codification of a caste-like system that was the direct antecedent of buraku discrimination.

These marginalized “kiyome” were further categorized into two separate groups that later became known by the very derogatory terms of “hinin” (非人), literally “non-human,” and “eta” (穢多), literally, “defilement abundant.” This distinction, however, was something that developed over a long time period, and as various occupations became more specialized, various groupings within these larger categories also began to appear.

The first basic distinction to be made was that between the disposal of the carcasses of dead animals and the bodies of dead humans, since the latter involved rituals of mourning and dignified burials. “Kiyome” who specialized in the handling of dead humans were the group from which the “hinin” category developed, while those that dealt with dead animals became the “eta.” This latter category was considered the more defiling, and so the “eta” (穢多) category was more associated with “kegare” (穢れ). The “eta” thus had a monopoly on animal skins and the production of leather goods. In fact, as their own separate society developed, some became rather wealthy in their own right. This, however, was not a path to acceptance in the general society, as even a wealthy “eta” was still an “eta.”

The category of “hinin,” however, included those who were ostracized for reasons other than being associated with “defiling” occupations. It was often a form of punishment, and those who became “hinin” for such a reason could return to their original status in regular society if certain conditions were met within a maximum of 10 years. Needless to say, that was not a common pattern, and so once demoted, they were basically stuck there, and their children had no way out at all — unless they were successful at leaving one area and infiltrating into another with a bogus identity. We know that a certain amount of this did take place, as there are references in contemporary records to a few such people being caught. But as the system became increasingly strict and more centrally controlled, such escapes became far more difficult. This was basically the situation from the Edo period onward, as the various medieval fiefdoms that had existed up until that time were unified under the “shogun” warlords.

The long period of warfare that eventually led to the unification of Japan under the Tokugawa Shogunate had the result of making the production of leather products (body armor containing leather, etc.) of critical importance. This “defiling” task, however, was monopolized by the “eta,” and so while they were despised and ostracized, their services were viewed as being of critical importance. Thus, they were tolerated by regular society — provided they kept their proper distance.

Japanese Feudal Society
In his book, Uesugi points out that a typical misconception of medieval societal structure actually comes from the misapplication of the terminology used to describe feudal Chinese society to that of Japan. Put into the diagram form that has typically been used, feudal society was often described as a pyramid with the samurai warrior class on top, with the layers of “farmer,” “artisan” and “merchant” below them. These, then, all rested on the base made up of the “eta/hinin” outcastes. Uesugi points out that just as the term “outcaste” implies, these people were actually entirely outside the “caste” system. He pictures it as two separate pyramids, with the main pyramid being topped by the emperor and other nobility, with the warrior class representing the top level below that “capstone.” Below that, then, were only two basic categories, each put on more or less the same level — that of the “townspeople” (which included artisans and merchants) and the “farmers.” The “eta” and “hinin,” then, formed their own separate hierarchical “pyramid” society totally outside of regular society, with the “eta” above the “hinin” and ruled by an “etagashira” (chief “eta”). This was in spite of the fact that originally the “eta” were considered the more defiled of the two groups. Below each of these pyramids, then, existed a variety of slave-like categories of servants. Even some of the wealthier “eta” owned their own “slaves.”

As the ruling class continued to manipulate this highly contrived system for their own benefit, the controls put into place to manage the system became increasingly oppressive. What later developed into the present-day “koseki” registration system was formalized in the early Edo period as a means to maintain social control. It likewise served as an effective means of stamping out the “Kirishitan,” the numerous converts to Christianity that some 50 years of missionary activity by Xavier and his comrades had generated. All persons had to register at the local Buddhist temple and so officially became “Buddhists” — irrespective of actual belief. The net result was that Japanese became at least superficially adherents of both Buddhism as well as the native animistic religion of Shintō. (The relationship between the two is complicated, with the final result being that Buddhism focuses on funerals and memorial services, whereas Shintō takes care of weddings, blessings and most everything else.)

The “Kirishitan” Connection
The relationship between the “Kirishitan” (a term used to refer to Christians) and the “eta” and “hinin” outcastes is a very interesting one. When the Jesuit missionaries arrived in Japan — beginning with Francis Xavier in 1549 — their strategy was, for the most part, to focus on the upper echelons of society in a top-down approach. The one exception to this was in the Nagasaki area, where concerted efforts were also made to reach the “eta.” For the most part, however, few “eta” became “Kirishitan” during this era. Almost all of them were followers of the Jōdō Shinshu sect of Buddhism, as it was the one Buddhist sect that made an effort to be “inclusive” — a relative term, of course, as it was only within the very strict constraints placed on them by the system. As would be expected, given those constraints, they had their own “eta” temples, cemeteries, etc, totally separate from other temples even of the same sect.

When it came to the “hinin,” however, it was a very different story, as a high percentage of them became “Kirishitan.” This was not, however, because the missionaries focused evangelistic efforts on them; it was more of an indirect result of the persecution that arose when the “Bakufu” (Shogunate) rulers decided to close Japan off from the outside world. The perception of these warlords was that the Christianity being propagated by the European missionaries was a prelude to foreign domination and colonization by one of the European powers (which very well might have been the case). From their perspective, stamping out all remains of Christianity was of utmost importance.

During the first few decades of the 1600’s, an estimated 200 to 300 thousand “Kirishitan” were martyred, many of them being beheaded for refusing to renounce their faith by stepping on the “fumie” (踏絵, “stepping picture” — a carved representation of Christ or of Mary and the baby Jesus people were forced to step on to show they were not followers of this foreign — and therefore “defiling” — religion). As to who was pressed into service to do the actual dirty work, it was, naturally, the “eta,” since being an executioner was defiling work indeed.

The general consensus is that there were at least 750,000 Christians at the height of its influence, and some researchers believe it was considerably higher than that. As to what happened to the rest, they basically fall into two groups: those who buckled under the pressure and stepped on the “fumie,” and those who successfully went underground. Known as “Kakure Kirishitan” (Hidden Christians), numerous communities maintained at least basic elements of their faith for over 250 years, until the prohibition was finally lifted (under foreign pressure).

The former Christians (those who stepped on the “fumie”) were still held in suspicion, however, and so it was not as though they were allowed back into regular society with a clean slate. They were still ostracized, and so the net result was that at least a large percentage of them became “hinin.” One contemporary record listed 2000 “hinin” in one section of Ōsaka, and recorded that of those, 920 were “Kirishitan.” Other records indicated similar figures, and thus far more of the “hinin” became Christians than their counterpart “eta.”

Another reason for the large numbers, in addition to persecuted Christians becoming “hinin,” was that one reason many people had been made “hinin” in the first place was because of “defiling” skin diseases and the like. While actual “leprosy” (now known as “Hansen’s Disease”) certainly existed, many other skin disorders were simply lumped together with it. Since these conditions were considered to be curses placed on such people by the gods, even the families of victims were left with no choice but to ostracize them and expel them to the outcaste “hinin” community.

Prior to the onset of the persecution, Christians had built over 20 sanitariums for the care of these unfortunate victims. With the improved hygiene and nutrition they received, many were cured, even seemingly miraculously, and so this obviously had a great evangelistic impact, with many becoming ardent followers of the faith. During the persecutions, then, these followers were instrumental in providing sanctuary for many Kirishitan or “former” Kirishitan who likewise entered the ranks of the outcastes.

This sanctuary, however, was relatively short-lived, as the rulers were intent on completely eliminating Christianity from their midst, and so even these outcaste Christians had to go. While many no doubt at least pretended to become Buddhists, records also show that many were exiled and forced to leave Japan. One record states that one group of over 100 “Kirishitan lepers” was exiled to Luzon (Philippines) so that “swords would not be defiled with blood.” Japanese grammar does not necessitate a pronoun before “swords” to indicate who is being referred to (which is part of the vagueness inherent in the language), but the implication is that it was the swords of the executioners being referred to. But since the executioners would presumably be defiled “eta,” one wonders just how that defilement was actually viewed. Apparently, the authorities believed the expedient thing to do was to simply send these people into exile rather than risk extra defilement on their land by having them killed.

It also appears that there was considerable reluctance on the part of executioners to follow through with their orders, as there are also recorded examples of “eta” executioners preferring to give up their own lives rather than execute these “seijin” (holy persons). Likewise, there were entire “eta” villages that simply refused to participate in the persecution at all, and so the general picture that emerges is one of a gradual plugging of the numerous “holes in the dikes” constructed by the shogun rulers to both eliminate the Christian presence while simultaneously solidifying the strict caste system in order to insure their control over the people.

Tightening the Controls
While ruthlessly efficient in moving towards these two goals, absolute control was never completely within their grasp. The human spirit will not allow totalitarianism to persist indefinitely. By the middle of the Edo Period (18th Century), the sense of defilement that was the basis for discrimination was beginning to loosen up, and so in order to counter this, the rulers decreed new laws making it mandatory to discriminate. Thus, not only was it illegal for “eta-hinin” to resist in any way the indignities forced upon them, but it now became illegal for anyone else to not treat them as the law demanded, under the threat of being made outcastes themselves. Records reveal numerous cases in which townspeople and farmers were punished by relegation to the “eta” status, and, of course, if they were unlucky enough to contract a dreaded skin disease, or were for some other reason ostracized, they would be made “hinin.” Numerous “eta-hunting” campaigns are recorded during this period to find those who had tried to beat the system by pretending to be townspeople or farmers. While many were caught, it is apparent that many were not, and so even prior to US gunboats entering Tōkyō Bay to demand that Japan end its self-imposed isolation, there were considerable signs that the system was beginning to fall apart.

As to what kinds of “indignities” were being forced upon the “eta,” in addition to segregation into isolated communities on undesirable lands and being relegated to “defiling” occupations, they were also forced to wear identifying clothing. Since there was no obvious physical difference between them and other Japanese, it was easy for them to blend in (temporarily) if they dressed like everyone else. Thus, shades of Nazi Germany and the “stars of David” the Jews were forced to wear at all times pinned to their clothes, “eta” likewise had wear leather patches, etc. on their clothing to make them easily identifiable.

At this time, no nation-state had laid claim to the northern territories referred to as “Ezo” (mostly present-day Hokkaidō). It was inhabited by the indigenous Ainu people, who were considered by Japanese to be “barbarians,” and so to prevent the island from being claimed by Russia or any other foreign power, there was considerable discussion in the late Edo period of sending settlers to develop the land and solidify Japan’s claim to it and neighboring islands. Interestingly, one of leading theories of the time regarding the origins of the “eta” was that they were descendants of the Ainu. Other theories had them descending from other “barbarians,” but the common theme was that they were racially different from the Japanese (which, of course, was not the case at all). So, there were proposals to ceremonially “cleanse” willing “eta” and have them “return to their roots” as a vanguard for the Japanese state to lay claim to the northern islands where the Ainu lived.

Outside Pressure and the Beginning of the End
Before such plans could be instituted, however, Commodore Perry and his gunboats arrived in Tōkyō Bay in 1853, and this was the catalyst that began a 15-year period of great instability, as various factions competed for supremacy. One such faction was the Chōshū domain in western Japan that had long sought to bring down the Tokugawa rulers. They were, in fact, instrumental in bringing down the shogunate government, but how they handled the “eta” issue is informative in considering why it is that the system was ended without the discrimination ending.

Numerous documents of the period reveal that the feudal rulers in general held extreme ethnocentric and xenophobic views. Basically, all foreigners were viewed as being inferior “barbarians,” and so in 1863, the Chōshū authorities decided to offer young, healthy “eta” men a chance to earn their way out of their inferior status by serving in a special military wing to “fight off the barbarians.” In 1866, however, when the Tokugawa Shogunate forces attacked the Chōshū forces, it was this regiment of “eta” soldiers that performed brilliantly to defeat the shogunate forces, and this fact was clear to all involved. They were welcomed as heroes, and thus even though they were being “used,” they turned tables and used this opportunity to win grudging respect.

Fast forward some 80 years to another group of people (at least some of who were descendents of these “burakumin”) who were also enduring deprivation of their basic human rights, and one can see the obvious similarities to the 442nd Infantry Regiment, made up of mostly of Japanese-Americans out of the internment camps of World War II America. Their exemplary service in the war effort in Europe was instrumental in winning the respect and acceptance of the larger American society. Unfortunately for those caught up in the turmoil at the end of feudal Japan and the dawning of the modern Japanese state, however, the end results were far different. It is my contention that the difference in basic worldview between the two societies is the main reason. The treatment of the Japanese-Americans by the US government was an aberration of the Judeo-Christian ethic and the basic human rights that naturally flow out of that worldview (where all humans are “created in the image of God”), whereas the continued discrimination faced by the burakumin even after their “emancipation” was consistent with this still prevailing worldview that focused on “kegare” and how such perceived “defilement” could be avoided or at least “cleansed.” (This included a strong sense of maintaining “purity” so that whatever was considered as being “different” was pushed away instead of being accepted.)

The forces that brought down the Tokugawa Shogunate were intent on restoring rule to the emperor (after some 265 years), and once the Tokugawa defeat became obvious, the struggle quickly ended. The net result was that the opportunity for the “eta” to win points by their brave service was quickly lost. Likewise, since the emperor system itself was predicated on the continuance of a hierarchical class system, there was a renewed effort to again strengthen the apartheid-like segregation that had been loosening up. For instance, when the emperor was to proceed from the palace in Kyōto to Ōsaka, an order went out to make sure no “hinin beggars” or “eta” would be within sight. “Eta” villages that were within sight of the route had to be hidden from view and their inhabitants were ordered to stay in their villages.

Ending the Official Discriminatory System
With the fall of the Tokugawa Shogunate and the opening up of Japan to the outside world again, the fledgling Meiji government was faced with numerous challenges in transforming Japan from a feudal state to one more in line with what they saw in the “superior” West (at least from the standpoint of military power and technology). Not only was there the issue of what to do with the former samurai warriors, but also the more difficult issue of what to do with the “eta/hinin.” Some pushed for a type of “affirmative action” plan to give training and then release them gradually into regular society according to their performance. The general consensus was that this shifting of individuals from outcaste status to commoner status should be done gradually, but with the rewriting of a whole host of laws that were interrelated, the authorities basically had to settle for a sudden end to the system.

The term used to describe this abandonment of the feudal social system is “kaihōrei” (解放令), which is translated into English as “Emancipation Edict” (or “Emancipation Proclamation”). Uesugi points out in his book, however, that the term “kaihō” (freedom) never appears even once in the entire document. The original document didn’t actually have a title as such, but the term used to refer to it was “Senmin Haishirei” (賤民廃止令), “Order to Abolish (System of) Ignoble Peoples.” In other words, it was simply a repealing of the class system as such and was not based in any concept of human rights and justice. Doing away with the feudal system, promoting industrialization and establishing things such as private ownership of property and a universal tax system meant that the old system of enforced class identity (including rules of where people could live) could no longer be maintained. Thus, ending the caste system was simply a matter of expediency. The term “kaihōrei” was first applied to the ending of the feudal caste system during the Taishō Era (1912-1926) as a part of “revisionist history.” The spin being put on it at that time was that the kind of discrimination going on in the Edo period was in reality against the will of the emperor, and so it was out of the great magnanimity of the emperor that these outcastes had been emancipated. Given these facts, one wonders why the term “kaihōrei” is still used to refer to this.

Similar to the continued discrimination faced by freed slaves in the US and elsewhere, the “shinheimin” (“new commoners”) as they called themselves, continued to face the same severe discrimination, and in fact, found themselves in some sense in even worse straits that before, as what few prerogatives they had under the old system were also taken away. Previously, their lands had not been taxed in deference to their existence “outside the system.” That was, of course, a burden they would have gladly borne if they had simply been accepted as equals in the general society. But centuries of being thought of as less than human and undeserving of equal treatment were so deeply ingrained in the public psyche that it was not something that could simply disappear overnight.

Obviously, the more than 130 years that have transpired since then are far more than “overnight,” and so we need to consider why it is that remnants of this discriminatory system still remain. Before proceeding to that subject, however, one other historical note of importance is what happened to the “hinin” as a result of the ending of the caste system. Unlike the “eta,” the “hinin,” for the most part, were quarantined in what were considered public lands, and so in one sense, their treatment was even more unfair. The “new commoners” at least ended up with the newly produced deeds to the plots of land they had lived on, but the “public” land on which the “hinin” had been forced to live was not deeded to them. In the long run, however, this may have worked to their advantage – at least that of their descendants, anyway – since their existence as a separate group, along with the discrimination that went along with it, has for the most part simply faded away.

There are exceptions to this, of course, as can be seen in the treatment of those with Hansen’s disease. Prior to the development of effective treatment of this communicable disease, the need to prevent its spread by taking steps to quarantine victims in colonies is understandable – even though the deplorable violations of human rights still deserve condemnation. However, with the development of effective medications from the 1940’s, any need to quarantine such people disappeared. Nevertheless, it was not until 1996 than Japan finally repealed this system of forced isolation in “leprosaria.” Again, it would seem, basic worldview beliefs are behind this. While perhaps not exactly the same as the “kegarekan” (feeling of defilement) that was the basis for such discrimination in ancient times, the related concept of excluding and marginalizing those who are different has remained strong in Japanese society.

Returning to the situation of the Meiji Era, the former outcaste groups found life very difficult. They now, however, had the freedom (in principle at least) to try to escape the poverty and discrimination they faced. Many of them jumped at the opportunity to leave Japan to work in other countries. Most of these early migrant workers were planning on saving up money they earned abroad and eventually returning to Japan, but many ended up staying, and some planned to emigrate from the beginning to escape the oppression they had endured for so long. In the late 1800’s and into the 1930’s, many thousands of Japanese immigrants settled in countries such as the United States, Brazil and Peru. No records exist that indicate what percentage of these people came from former “eta” and “hinin” backgrounds, but certainly a large percentage did.

On the home front, after the Meiji Restoration, the Meiji government proceeded with the plans to lay claim to the northern islands by encouraging settlement. However, since the caste system had been done away with, the original idea of “cleansing the eta” and sending them up as the forerunners was no longer part of the plan. In fact, the Meiji government decided to discourage large numbers of former “eta” from settling in Hokkaidō, wanting to keep that figure below 10%. So, while official discrimination was supposed to be ended, in reality it continued in numerous unofficial (or in this case, quasi-official) ways.

The Struggle Continues
Much remains to be discussed about the history of buraku discrimination since the ending of the official caste system at the beginning of the Meiji Era. Why hasn’t such overt discrimination based solely on one’s ancient family heritage simply disappeared with the passage of several generations? In ancient times, buraku areas were located away from the main population areas, but as cities and towns expanded, these buraku were often surrounded by newer developments. Prior to government efforts to upgrade the infrastructure of former buraku areas in the 1960’s and 1970’s, these areas were very poor and underdeveloped, and that easily contrasted with the much superior infrastructure in the neighboring non-buraku areas. Likewise, because most people of buraku background were poor and did not have equal education opportunities, their advancement was further retarded.

The national and local governments have made attempts to rectify the situation thru redevelopment projects, affirmative action programs in employment, and anti-discriminatory education in schools, but since many of the officials administrating these programs themselves had deep-seated prejudices against burakumin, the results have been less than satisfying. Not unlike the plight of many blacks in the American context, these programs have even inspired numerous complaints of “reverse discrimination,” merely adding to the common misperception of these people being “different.” Being of buraku descent is still perceived in a very negative light by many Japanese. They may give lip-service to being against discrimination, but when, for instance, it comes to their child wanting to get married to a person of buraku descent, there is a knee-jerk reaction against that. Suddenly, fear of what one’s relatives might think overrides superficial pledges to equality, and great pressure is put on the young person to break off the engagement. Likewise, many private companies still want to avoid hiring people of buraku descent just “to play it safe,” since they’re afraid of potentially negative reactions from customers not wanting to associate with one of “those people.”

Thus, while gradually getting less common, these forms of discrimination still persist, and thus the work of the Buraku Liberation Center and other organizations working to end such discrimination will continue to be necessary for the foreseeable future.

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Ed’s note: Tim Boyle was a founding member of the Alien Times in 1987, which was shortly after his arrival in Tsukuba, and he was managing editor until September 2007, when he moved down to the Osaka area to take up his new position at the “Buraku Liberation Center”, an agency of the United Church of Christ in Japan that works on human rights issues, particularly in relation to the continued discrimination against the descendants of the former outcastes of ancient Japanese feudal society.

I recently had the pleasure of taking a trip to Amabiki Kannon, a temple complex about 45 minutes north of Tsukuba. Click on the image below to see some of the photos that I took.

See: Article on Amabiki Kannon in Alien Times

September 1, Saturday from 5PM
(Rain date: September 2)
Venue: Tsukuba Center Plaza

インドネシア友好の夕べ/Malam Cinta Indonesia, or something like “Indonesian Friendship Night” is an event hosted by Japan-Indonesia Friendship Association and Indonesian Student Association in Japan every year. Come and enjoy the Bali and Javanese dances and music. There will also be 津軽三味線(Tsugaru-jamisen) and Japanese drum performances!

Long before Japan was exporting Toyotas and Sonys, its most important foreign exchange earner was silk. Until about fifty years ago most farmers in the Kanto area supplemented their incomes by raising silk worms. Ten years ago I was still able to find the huts where these plump caterpillars were grown and the sound of their loud munching on mulberry leaves still rings in my ears whenever I think about the times I came upon them. Now, even the mulberry groves which were a typical part of the Tsukuba landscape have all but disappeared.

Today, March 28th, I braved thunder and lightning to negotiate the steps up to Kokage Shrine and join the priests and 3 older, local gentlemen to give offerings for abundant rice crops and silk production and think back upon the heyday of Japan’s fling with the worms and their precious cocoons.

Kokage Shrine is yet another Tsukuba superlative. It is the oldest shrine in Japan dedicated exclusively to sericulture and once attracted thousands of worshipers, many from the textile towns of Nagano and Gunma. Located in the beautifully rustic Kangori (神郡) district of Tsukuba, the shrine is reached ascending ancient and uneven stone steps through an even more ancient sacred grove.

It is said that the sea once reached this site and that an Indian princess who had set sail for Japan was dead upon arrival. Her ship was made of mulberry wood, and the locals imagined that she came from a land of abundant silkworms. They buit a casket for her and filled it with mulberry leaves. To the right of the shrines main hall, under an enclosure I found an undated E-ma painting depicting this scene.

I had a chance to chat with the Kanshushis (Shinto priests) as they were setting up the offerings on the altar. They were actually sent by The Tsukuba-San Shrine, as the Kokage Shrine has nearly been forgotten with the pricipitous decline in sericulture in Japan over the past few decades. Now there are priests at the shrine only 2 days a year, March 28th for the spring offerings, and then November 23rd for the shrine’s festival.

They explained to me how special the silkworms (kaiko) were to the Japanese, as they were the only domestic animal actually raised in people’s homes. They are also the only animals which normally are referred to using an honorific - O Kaiko-Sama, though the local
people usual shorten this to O Ko-Sama.

As the time came to commence the ceremony only three old men had battled the stairs and settled inside the shrine for the ceremony.
This being a mere shadow of the crowds who would be there in former days. First, a purification rite was carried out, and then offerings of cocoons, fruit, and sacred sakaki leaves were made. O-miki (sake) was then drunk, and commemorative towels given to the few of us present.

After the ceremony, we clambered down the steps as the local men reminisced about the shrines glory days. Now the wooden buidings which would have been used by numerous vendors on this day were virtually falling apart. One man mentioned that a movie had been shot on this staircase, though he could not recall the title. Another man mentioned how just the other day the Emperor and Emperess performed a similar ritual for silkworms, which he had seen broadcast on TV (the Imperial Couple raises rice and silkworms for ritual purposes).

We reached the bottom of the stairway huffing and puffing. We entered the dilapidated old shop which once served the throngs of pilgrims who would flock here. They still sold a special souvenir — Kokage Yokan (beanpaste). As a breeze entered the shop it gently lifted the paper displaying the price of the yokan. I noticed that for that day they had raised the price by 100 yen, taking advantage of the ceremony. Unfortunately, only 3 locals and I had shown up. Times change, things change, and this ancient rite is certainly hanging on by a VERY thin thread.

* Exhibit *
The 22nd Ibaraki Artifact Exhibit (茨城県郷土工芸品展) will be held again at Tsukuba Seibu from August 10 to 15. Please also see my post titled, “Ibaraki Artifact Exhibit at Seibu” from last year for reference.

Selected artifacts from all over Ibaraki will be on display/sale, and you’ll have chances to talk to craftspeople and watch them work on their handiwork. Please see “popular attraction” page on Ibaraki Travel Information website (English). All the artifacts on this page, except Kagami Crystal, will be coming to Seibu this weekend. This year, there will be free tea ceremonies that you can participate in every 30minutes between 11am and 6pm on Sunday.

There will be lots of sightseeing brochures and flyers that you can pick up, so if you are trying to decide where to go & what to do this fall, don’t forget to stop by at the tourist information table.

* Books! Books! Books! *
What’s exciting is that Libro’s new and used book fair will also be held on the same floor during this exhibit this year! They usually have a good selection of English and other foreign language books and some videos, so I think it’s worth a look if you are not in a hurry.

When:
May 29, Thursday, from 2:30pm to 5:00pm
Venue:
University of Tsukuba 30th Anniversary Hall

Program:
14:45
Welcoming address/ Palabras de bienvenida por autoridad de la Universidad.

14:55 to 15:25
Lecture by ambassador Daniel D. Polski/ Conferencia del Sr. Embajador de la Republica Argentina Daniel D.Polski
Lecture title: “Argentina‚ key drivers for sustainable economic development”/ “Argentina: Factores Claves del Desarrollo Económico Sustentable”
　　　　　　
15:35 to 16:00
Argentina tango evening/ Demonstration and lesson by Luna de Tango Company, Demonstracion y clase de tango a cargo de “Luna de Tango Company.”

16:00 to 17:00
Social gathering/ Let’s talk about Argentine

Please contact Sugimoto at 029-853-6785
or visit the following page for details:
http://www.tsukuba.ac.jp/hall/20080521140055.html

Program:
http://www.tsukuba.ac.jp/up_pdf/20080521140055001.pdf

Okay, you might not think that “big names” and “shamisen” belong in the same sentence, but these two guys really do fit the bill. Yoshida Kyodai (吉田兄弟, Yoshida Brothers) are two young brothers who have joined forces to revolutionize the instrument. Their performances are energetic and exciting. I highly recommend attending one of their concerts, and would even suggest that it is worth travelling fair distances to see them.

Luckily, you will only have to travel as far as Tsukuba Center to see them if you buy your tickets soon. They are coming to Nova Hall on June 16 (doors open at 6pm, concert starts at 6:30pm). Tickets are 5500 yen and they go on sale from Sunday, April 15 at 10am. On April 15, tickets will only be sold by phone (029-852-5881) and it will not be possible to designate your seats at that time.

There is a beautiful full moon tonight. Just as it SHOULD be for the O-Bon festival, but RARELY IS. Since the Japanese have switched over from their old lunar based calendar in 1873, it has been very uncommon for the 15th of August (or July in Tokyo) to actually fall on the 15th of the lunar month (which is a full moon). This year is one of those rare years, and it has provided extra atmosphere to the various BON related events going on tonight around Japan. These are mostly BON-ODORI community dance events. Until the early decades of the 20th century, BON-ODORI were danced in most communities around here, but were most famous (for their bacchanalia) on Mt. Tsukuba. For some reason ALL of these dance events including those on the mountain have gone the way of the Japanese ibis (toki), and by that I mean “disappeared”. Maybe it was the BAWDINESS of the Tsukuba-san events which lead to their doom (after the puritan western influence of the Meiji years)?

There was an interesting event which took place tonight that included Bon dancing, as well as professional Enka entertainment and a unique rain invocation ceremony. I’m talking about the Karakasa-Mando at Niihari’s Washi Shrine. I have been there before but unfortunately could not make it today (even though I came back from Tokyo’s Yasukuni Shrine today intending to go to Niihari). It is a perfect place to experience a small village summer festival, swarthy night-air with the girls in colorful yukata, lots of food stalls, festival music (hayashi) and plenty of speeches.

My first time at that event I had really wanted to get a good seat for watching the Karakasa, a kind of giant tanabata decoration, which when lit, sizzles like a roman candle. I found a good spot, sat down, and waited for the big moment. I waited and waited, in the dark. My eyes grew accustomed the lack of light and my pupils probably expanded to there limit. When the fuse was finally lit and the Karakasa burst into life, I was completely and painfully BLINDED. After the few seconds it took to adjust my eyes, the Karakasa had burned itself out. I didn’t see anything! I could do nothing but laugh at the absurdity of having waited so long in anticipation. If you want to have a look (and listen) though, see this page.

As I said before I spent the day (as I usually do on August 15th) at controversial Yasukuni Shrine, where tens of thousands passed through in the PULVERIZING HEAT to pay their respects to the soldiers who have fallen in Japan’s wars since the Meiji Restoration (1868), with special emphasis on WWll, since it was on this day that that war ended.

I have many amazing things to tell and lots of pictures as well, but its been a very long day and you probably don’t want to hear about it until tomorrow.

OYASUMI

The title of today’s post may not seem to make a lot of sense. I am writing about the game called “Go”, and in particular a simpler variant of the game called “Capture Go”. Now does it make more sense?

Yasutoshi Yasuda (安田泰敏) is a 9th level master of Go. He has developed a method to teach all people — children, elderly people, disabled people — in many countries how to play Go and to learn to improve their communication skills through the game. His students start by learning to play Capture Go, and then, if they are interested, they can continue to learn how to play the full version of Go.

Yasuda-sensei is very famous for his work in this area. He has written some books, two of which are available in English.

Go as Communication (Read a sample of this book.)

Let’s Play Go (Read a sample of this book.)

You can find out more information by doing an internet search of his name and the names of his books.

And now, for the good news!

Yasuda-sensei is coming to Ushiku!

On Sunday, February 25 from 1pm to 4pm, there will be a Capture Go Festival in Ushiku at the Social Welfare Center (Onabakecho 859-3, map). Everyone is welcome, and I have been assured that foreign people are especially welcome. The point of the event is to bring people together through the game of Go, in order to improve communication and understanding, so it will make the event even more successful if foreign people show up.

The deadline for signing up for this event is February 10. Call 029-873-2111 to register (in Japanese).

You can get more information about Go at Wikipedia.

Just to be clear, this event is not specifically designed for foreigners, so there will not be any official language support (such as English interpretation). However, the whole point of the event is to promote communication, so I think that if you go, people will try to communicate with you (as long as you make it look like you want to communicate with them).

At 877 meters it is not very high or majestic. But for those of us who live on the vast (by Japanese standards, of course!) plain to its south, the slightly crushed M figure of Mt Tsukuba is like a trusty old friend, always reassuring us of where we are and helping us get our bearings when we are lost. Its forested slopes put Japan’s seasons on display while on the flatlands below the greenery has been disappearing at a frightening pace and snow accumulation has become a most rare occurrence.

For the Japanese, Mt Tsukuba has also been a sacred mountain since time immemorial. Its peaks are where the ancestral Gods of Japan, Izanagi and Izanami, are enshrined. The mountain has attracted many holy men over the years and during the Edo Period (1600-1867) a temple was built half-way up its southern slope to protect Edo castle from the unlucky North-Eastern quadrant, and this temple, then Chuzen-Ji, was generously endowed and supported by Japan’s long-ruling clan, the Tokugawa.

In 1868 Japan underwent revolutionary reforms and the Emperor was restored (again?) to supreme power (in name only, most say). The Meiji government also carried out a probably ill-advised policy (though not as ill-advised as some other policies set in those days!) of separating Buddhism (a foreign import) from the pure, native belief which came to be called Shinto. Thus Chuzen-Ji is now Mt Tsukuba Shrine, popular as a place to pray for marital happiness.

The priests of this shrine, together with the assistance of local residents, continue to perform the most important of the mountain’s ancient rituals: Onzagawari (御座替り） which can also be pronounced Ozagawari. This ceremony takes place twice a year, on April and November 1.

The ceremony at first appears to be a typical Japanese Mountain God festival in which the deities are brought down to the fields in spring to bring abundant harvests, and are then escorted back up to their mountain abodes for the winter.

Mt Tsukuba’s spring and autumn rituals seem at first glance to be of this pattern, but there is a twist. Since the ancestral couple are enshrined on its peaks and the shrine half-way up the mountain is dedicated to family harmony, instead of focusing on agriculture the Onzagawari emphasizes love and protection of children.

Yesterday, despite vicious winds, a small omikoshi (portable shrine) carried the child god up the mountain, where it is cool and high above the sweltering lowlands and the parent gods were carried down to the center of the mountain. The positions of the parents and child will switch back again in autumn.

The ceremony began early in the morning and continued till late afternoon as carriers bore the omikoshis up and down the mountain (they used the cable car for some of the way!), battling the ferocious and unrelenting gusts.

Maybe the most special thing that a visitor can do on these ceremony days is to cross the sacred bridge (a red, wooden, covered bridge of rare design) which is only open on the first day of April and November.

I know that most of you missed it yesterday, but maybe I will see there in autumn.

Though in Tokyo there are no museums with permanent collections ranking with those at the likes of The Louvre, The Prado, The Met, The British Museum or Taipei’s Palace Museum, it is still one of the best, or maybe even THE best place in the world for special museum shows and exhibitions. During any given week, a glance at the museum listings will reveal several must-see exhibits at dozens of interesting venues, catering to almost any taste or inclination. 

The recent inauguration of the new National Art Center near Roppongi, has made things EVEN MORE interesting for art lovers, and being that it is located near a Hibiya Line station it is easily accessible to Tsukubans (even for those with only a few hours to spare).

I wanted to arrive at the museum early today, to have as much time as possible taking in the works of Australian Aboriginal Artist Emily Kame Kngwarreyey, who had been a ritual body painter and sand artist until she finally put brush to canvas in her late seventies. Living in the Red Center of Australia, a couple of hundred kilometers from Alice Springs in a community ironically called Utopia, Emily must have spent nearly all the time in the remaining decade of life painting, as she created THOUSANDS of canvasses, many of them HUGE. She usually did this by spreading a canvas out on the sand, exposed to the elements, and in some of her works careful examination reveals bits of sand, vegetation and even an occasional DOG PAW PRINT!

Emily had no formal artistic training and virtually no knowledge of Western or Eastern artistic traditions. And though eventually prices for her canvases soared way over the million dollar mark, she certainly was not painting for the money. This makes her works, for me at least, an exciting example of pure artistic expression which provide an accessible channel for gaining insights into her peoples’ 40,000 year old culture.

The National Art Center’s building itself is quite interesting ,though I only looked at its facade briefly and then hurried into the exhibition gallery. If the floors were not wooden I would think that I had entered an airport terminal with a spacious lobby repleat with restaurants and cafes set at regular intervals . The galleries are entered through what look not unlike airport gates, and you actually have to pay for each exhibition separately at these gates(at least this was true today). All the restaurants were crowded, making it seem that the outer hall was the CENTERPIECE of the museum as opposed to the inconspicuous galleries. I was surprised to see that there was even food being offered to match one of the exhibitions. For the European Still-Life Painting show from the Kunsthistoriches Museum in Vienna, one of the restaurants had an Austrian chef serving special Viennese lunches!

The  design of the building should not come as a surprise when one learns that it was the creation of architect Kisho Kurokawa who also designed (among many other notable commissions) the Kuala Lumpur Airport Terminal! Of course when that was built it was the largest terminal in the world. And what a lonely place, too, never having been able to compete with Singapore Airport as a regional hub and seeming almost empty in its hugeness,a veritible ghost terminal with staff shuttling to and fro by bicycle through its long and lonely corridors.

Paying my 1,300 yen entrance fee, I took a deep breath and entered another dimension: DREAMTIME. Emily’s works are abstract, appear simple and can be divided into several distinct phases. Nearly all the works on display, however, were alike in that they were absolutely mesmerizing. I felt like I was at a Thai Restaurant. Thai food is delicious and it also physically affects your mouth, giving it a unique sensation. For the first time in my long museum-going life I felt the same sensation — IN MY EYES. More than any Da Vincis, Rembrandts, or Picassos my eyes FELT Emily’s canvases.

Of course we can try to interpret these works. Maybe they are maps containing wisdom related to gathering traditional foods and medicines. Maybe they are reflections of subtle observations of the desert landscape. Maybe they are inner-visions which all humans can relate to as a reflection of a collective consciousness. I could go on and on, but as my friend Rick said about this show, maybe it should just be FELT and not THOUGHT ABOUT. 

Several times I reached the exit of the gallery, but each time I headed back to the start, staggering about, intoxicated, trying to absorb as much of Emily’s energy as I could.

This incredible exhibition closes Monday evening. If possible, SEE IT.

The Post Office holds a lottery every year based on the New Year’s cards that everyone sends out on January 1. This year it’s a little later than usual, but they are still doing it despite the privatization of the postal system.

Click here to see the winning numbers for 2008.

A blog called What Japan Thinks provides insight into what Japanese people are thinking by translating surveys completed by people in Japan. One of the latest surveys covers chopstick manners. How many of these have you broken (or never heard of)?

What Japan Thinks: Chopstick Bad Manners

It’s HOT! So hot that I feel like the melt down of my brain is only a matter of time. So what do you do when it’s ridiculously hot?

Since Vivian wrote about how to cool down “internally,” I’ll write about cooling down “externally.” Turning on the fan or the air condition is what most people do to get cool breeze, but what Japanese people have been doing since early times is 打ち水(uchimizu), or sprinkling water.

Learn about Uchimizu on this website: Mission Uchimizu
(available in Japanese, English, French and in Chinese)

From Mission Uchimizu website:
The old custom of sprinkling water with a ladle on streets and gardens, called “uchimizu”,is a more well-known example of the use of water in Japan’s daily living.People sprinkle water, especially in the summer time, in their house entrances and gardens or in front of their shops to lay the dust or to ease the heat.

I practice uchimizu almost every day, and it does cool down the surface temperature. It will cool down my apartment room a little bit because the reflected heat of the sun (照り返し/terikaeshi) goes down after uchimizu.　The website I mentioned above, however, warns people not to use tap water to do uchimizu because that is not “eco-friendly.” They suggest using rain water and bath water.*
(*In case you didn’t know, Japanese people wash their bodies before they go in the bath & they don’t wash their bodies or hair in the bathtub, so the bath water stays clean.)

If you have small children, and if you let them play in their own little kid’s pool, don’t just dump the water. Save some water in buckets for uchimizu! Or if your house is right next to a stream, you can use the water from stream for uchimizu or for cleaning. That’s what my parents do, by the way. I think it’s also a good idea to uchimizu if you let you kids play in the empty parking lots or something, and feel that the ground surface heat is intense for small children.

As Vivian said, stay cool everyone!

Related post:Combat Natsubate

Okay, so there are “hinamatsuris” in Tsukuba, Makabe, and in Kasama…. How about the one in Tsuchiura?

I didn’t know about this until today, but the Hina Doll’s Festival in Tsuchiura has started last Saturday. The dolls are on display in 45 businesses along the streets in front of the Tsuchiura Station, Kamitakatsu Kaizuka Furusato Rekishi Hiroba(historical park), and in Komachi no Yakata (park dedicated to the legends of Ono no Komachi).

Tsuchiura Hinamatsuri
Feb.17(Sat) to March 4(Sun)
Free

The participating businesses besides Rekishi Hiroba and Komachi no Yakata are all within walking distance of JR Tsuchiura Station. There are only two free temporary parking lots, one with room for 20 cars (available only on weekdays) and the other with room for 15 cars (available only on weekends) during the festival, so try to get there extra early if you want to go there by car!

Tsuchiura Tourist Association
3rd Tsuchiura Hinamatsuri flyer/map(pdf)

It’s Hinamatsuri (Doll’s Festival) season!

As RrFish and Shaney posted, big events are being held in Kasama and Makabe. If you feel they are a little bit far from Tsukuba, you have another option.

There is an old-fashioned Japanese house named “Sakura Minkaen” in Chuo park in the Tsukuba center area. Tsukuba city is displaying old traditional Hina dolls made from about 80 years ago at the Sakura Minkaen.

Period: From February 16(Fri) to March 4 (Sun) , 2007
Time: From 9:30 to 16:30
Closed: Wednesdays, National holidays
Website (in Japanese)

Sakura Minkaen is located behind the rest house in Chuo Park, near Azuma Elementary School. They hold tea ceremony events and exhibitions there sometimes.

See:
Tsukuba Wiki
Google Map

When we want to get rid of any unneeded or unwanted stuff taking up space in our homes, it’s always necessary to consult the Tsukuba City Garbage Separation Manual, which after much bewildered scrutinization might finally reveal when and where certain materials can be disposed of.

However, there are some items which even that labyrinthine text gives us no hint of how to deal with. I am mainly talking about festive decorations and other sacred objects that Japanese people would never simply throw in the garbage. What is to be done then with last year’s Daruma doll and the New Year’s shimenawa (sacred rope) and other decorations? For Japanese, there is no reason for this information to be printed in the Trash Manual. It is common sense for them to take such items to a shrine to be disposed of respectfully.

On the 14th and 15th of January, New Years Decorations and other sacred items are burned at shrines throughout Japan in a ceremony called Dondo-yaki. It is considered VERY lucky and healthy to eat mochi rice cakes which have been roasted in these fires.

If you have any items (straw, wood or paper) that you would like to dispose of with respect, there will be a big dondoyaki bash held on the Tsukuba-Tsuchiura border, by the Gakuen O-hashi Bridge, on The Tsuchiura Gakuen Road (the same place from which the fireworks are launched at the Hanabi Festival). The event will be held on the 13th and not the 15th, because it is a Sunday and will begin at 11am. Mochi will be served to the first 200 people who sign up, and registration begins at 9am.

Don’t put any plastic, ceramic or metal objects in the fire.

See you there!

Update:

Saturday May 17, 10.30-17.30,
Sunday May 18, 10.00-16.00

Venue: Kanagawa “Earth Plaza”
(closest station: JR Negishi Line, Hongodai Station,
Earth Plaza is located to the left of the station exit).
Cost: Free

Earth Festa Kanagawa:
http://www.k-i-a.or.jp/earthfesta/
http://www.k-i-a.or.jp/earthfesta/english/

“Earth Festa celebrates international cultures with music and dance performances, delicious food, interesting discussion topics and exciting intercultural exchange. Come share culture, conversation, and cuisine with people from around the world.”

View pictures from last year here:
http://www.k-i-a.or.jp/earthfesta/pictures2007/catalog.html

Today is the day we celebrate the current Emperor’s birthday. Emperor Akihito was born in 1933, so I guess that makes him 73 years old today. The former Emperor’s birthday was on April 29, and this date is still a public holiday, although it has been renamed “Green Day”.

In Canada, we celebrate the birth of our Queen on (or before) May 24. This date is actually Queen Victoria’s birthday (May 24, 1819), and not the birthday of our current monarch, Queen Elizabeth (born April 21, 1926). May 24 is considered Queen Elizabeth’s “official” birthday. I usually call this day “Victoria Day”, but it also has other names. In Ontario, we sometimes call it “May Two Four” because “Two Four” is slang for a case of twenty four bottles of beer, which is the usual amount of beer that people buy for a party. After the long, cold winter, Victoria Day weekend gives people a chance to go outside again and relax. In Canada, it is common for people to have cottages or trailers, but they are often not winterized, so the Victoria Day weekend is the first time that people go to their cottages or trailers in the year. There is a lot of cleaning to be done on that weekend, but we try not to let that interfere with the party spirit. In other parts of Canada, this weekend is apparently known as “May Long” or “May Run”. (I have never heard these terms before, but I just found them on Wikipedia.)

I always assumed that monarchs were expected to have an official birthday that didn’t move around, so I was surprised to find out that December 23 is the current Emperor’s actual birthday. I like the fact that everyone gets a holiday on that day, and that the previous Emperor’s birthday has also been preserved.

You can read more about the Emperor’s birthday and Victoria Day on Wikipedia.

Most of the days during Japan’s month long rainy season (tsuyu), are overcast and damp, even when there is no actual precipitation. When it IS raining, it is as if your town or city has been transported into the shadowy depths of a thick, wet , forest. It can stay like that for days. For this reason, Japan is a veritable paradise for MOSS (koke苔), which thrives in such conditions. Taking a June stroll, umbrella in hand, within the precincts of some old shrine or temple is like an in-depth tour of the WORLD OF GREEN, with  mosses of varying degrees of verdure growing on stones, tree trunks, or the ground, forming delightful combinations.

It is clear that the darkness of the rainy season and the deep warm shades of moss have had a huge impact on Japanese aesthetics. For example, compare the Buddhist temples or clothes from the brighter lands of India or Thailand, with those of Japan. There are often bright, bold or shimmery colors and surfaces, which are needed so as not to be washed out by the brightness of the sun. In shadowy Japan, different , darker ,colors, more natural and earthy ,came to be utilized and loved. Moss and moss green have been an important part of this sensibility. This can be seen most clearly in Japanese gardening and landscaping, the cultivation of miniature trees (bonsai) and in fabric design.

There are several temples which are actually famous for their moss gardens, including Saiho-Ji and Gio-ji in Kyoto. Nearer to Tsukuba is Myoho-Ji in Kamakura. (Did you know that JR trains can be taken directly to Kamakura from Tsuchiura or Ushiku Stations during the summer?) These are nationally renowned Koke-dera (moss temples), but it is by no means necessary to leave our city to partake in the pleasures of moss viewing. As I mentioned above, the sacred grove of any shrine or the grounds of any temple will do, especially on rainy days.

Unfortunately, the same conditions which allow moss to thrive are favored by various types of mould and mildew and foreigners who come to live in Japan are driven to despair by their relentless proliferation. Walls, books, photos, are all common victims. Once I discovered that a pair of white sneakers I wanted to wear had turned black with mould! This is  not just a nuisance, but a health hazard as well.

Of course, this is a problem for the Japanese, too, but since their ancestors have had to deal with the problem for millennia, there are plenty of bits  of folk knowledge passed down from generation to generation which help  to cope.

The most important point to remember is good ventilation. Make sure that the air in a particular room does not stagnate too long. Whenever the sun DOES shine you might want to let its rays do their work on anything you are worried might get mouldy. Remember: the light of day is the best disinfectant!

A more recently developed trick for dealing with mold was introduced to me by Harumi Takaya, who is always a great source of information about traditional life in Tsukuba. This is the use of baking soda. For example, baking soda mixed in with your laundry detergent at a ratio of 3 to 1 will prevent your laundry from getting moldy (if like most Japanese, you don’t have a dryer). Putting a mixture of baking soda and water into a spray bottle and spritzing it on the walls etc… is also a good idea.

Don’t let the darkness and the rain get you down! Go out and explore Japans endless SHADES OF GREEN! For the summer months THESE are the Emerald Isles!

The Hirasawa Kanga site is a reproduction of some of the Tsukuba County government buildings as they were in the Nara and Heian eras, more than a thousand years ago.

On October 21, 2007, a cultural event will be held at Hirasawa Kanga from 12 noon to 5pm. (This event will be cancelled in the case of stormy weather.)

Stage Performances
1:30 to 2pm
Nihon Gagaku (traditional Japanese court music) performance

2:10pm to 2:40pm
Nihon Buyo (traditional Japanese dance) performance

3pm to 4:30pm
Ocarina (Peruvian wind instrument) performance

Also, there will be an open market (12 noon to 5pm), guided tours of the ruins (12 noon to 3pm), and illuminations (4pm to 5pm).

If you have never been to Hirasawa Kanga, this is a perfect opportunity to get a feel for the place.

Source: Tsukuba City Hall Website

December 14 commemorates the same day in 1702 when forty-seven ronin (浪人, masterless samurai) avenged the death of their master by beheading the court official who had forced their master to commit suicide. The ronin were later forced to commit ritual suicide for their involvement in the murder. Not a particularly happy story, but one that is known by all Japanese people, so a good cultural point to read up on. See the article on the forty-seven ronin in Wikipedia.