As Chinese cultural influence in Japan waned and the Japanese gained more self-confidence over the ensuing centuries, the customs regarding the celebration of longevity, along with almost everything else adopted from China, were eventually given a uniquely Japanese twist. Records show that the still standard series of eight special birthdays celebrated between (and including) the 60th and 100th years had been firmly established among the Japanese ruling warrior class and the aristocracy by the Muromachi Period (1338-1573). Instead of merely following the original Chinese lead of celebrating the start of each new age-decade, the Japanese also selected certain ages from which auspicious (or amusing) meanings could be derived from how the ages were written in Kanji characters. Thus, today we have the following.

The 60th year (kanreki, 還暦), meaning a return to the beginning of the cycle, as it heralds completing the path through the full five cycles of the Sino-Japanese zodiac (jikkan-junishi), and coming back once again to the original combination of signs that you were born with. This event is commonly celebrated throughout East-Asia.

The 70th year (koki, 古希), the name of which derives from a popular verse by the great Chinese poet Tufu (Toho, 杜甫, in Japanese). The poem goes: Jinsei nanaju korai mare nari (人生七十古来稀なり),meaning that (in those days) reaching the age of 70 was a rare occurrence.

The 77th year (kiju, 喜寿）, which was celebrated because an archaic form of writing the character ki (good fortune, this form cannot be written out with this computer), can be broken down to the components 七　十　七、 which means 77. Because of this round-about connection, that age is seen as related to GOOD FORTUNE. 

The 80th year (sanju, 傘寿). The character 傘 (umbrella) can be broken down to components which can be rearranged as 八十(eighty).

The 81st year (hanju,半寿). The character 半 (half) can be broken down and rearranged as 八十一, or 81. However, celebrating hanju has become extremely rare these days.

The 88th year (beiju,米寿). The character for rice, 米, which symbolizes wealth, nutrition and other wholesome things can be broken down to its basic components and rearranged as 八十八、or 88.

The 90th year (sotsuju, 卒寿). The character 卒 (graduation) can be rearranged as 九十、or 90.

The 99th year (hakuju,白寿）. When the element meaning one (一) is removed from the top of the character 百 (100), you get the character haku (白,white). Thus haku is 100 minus one. In other words 99.

Then, at the 100th year, there is hyakuga (百賀), and after that a celebration every year (hyaku-ichi no ga, etc...).

During the Edo Period (1603-1868), the custom of celebrating these special ages filtered down to the common people, though even for the easy living elite it probably still remained quite rare at that time to celebrate anything beyond Kanreki (the 60th year).

Since Kanareki marked the completion of a full journey through the oriental zodiac and a rebirth, or return to childhood, 60 was traditionally the age at which men would retire. The main feature of the kanreki banquet was the presentation of a red coat (chanchanko) and cap (zukin). This style of garment symbolizes a return to childhood. The red color represented warmth and was also believed to have powers to ward off evil and bad luck. The cushion (zabuton) on which the guest of honor sits, should also be red. A red fan might also be provided. You can find everything you need online.

These days of course, most 60-year-olds in Japan are still working, and most likely feel that their whole life still lies in front of them. They might be embarrassed by the silly chanchanko and cap. Still, if you decide to give a sweater or blanket, shirt or tie, red would be an appropriate (traditionally speaking) color.

For Koki (70) and Kiju (77) celebrations, the color purple is considered appropriate, as it is the mostly highly regarded color in Sino-Japanese divination (omyodo). This color provides protective and curative benefits to those bodies which might just be starting to feel the aches and pains of age.

Though once extremely rare, sanju (80), hanju (81), and especially beiju (88) celebrations are now common events! The color for presents, clothing and cushions should be GOLDEN BROWN (kincha iro 金茶) or yellow. And since 88 years of age is associated with RICE (米,bei) with all its positive associations in Japanese culture, beiju celebrations are popular and feature several special gift items. Golden brown (or yellow) furoshiki or fukusa cloths and zabuton cushions with cranes or the character 米 on them are usual.

The most interesting traditional gift for beiju is a HATO NO TSUE (a walking stick with a pigeon carved on the handle). It seems that giving such a gift was practiced in the ancient Chinese and later Japanese courts. Among the reasons for such a gift being appropriate are that HATO (pigeon) can also be written using the characters 八 and 十, which can also mean 80. It is also said that pigeons do not choke (a serious problem for the elderly in Japan, especially with New Year's O-Mochi). These pigeon-handled walking sticks can be given at any of the  longevity celebrations for someone in their 80s. Have a look at a hato no tsue here.

For sotsuju (90) and hakuju (99) celebrations, the appropriate traditional color is white. Have a look at each age group color.

In contemporary Japan there are dozens of reference books available for those wanting to hold, or for those who have been invited to, a special LONGEVITY birthday celebration. They not only recommend appropriate gifts such as travel or restaurant coupons, ceramics or electronic equipment, but also detail the correct way to address the special festive envelopes and recommend appropriate amounts for cash gifts.

One thing that all these books agree on is that the most important point, especially for the older-age celebrations, is to bring family together, create a warm and festive atmosphere, and maybe have an extended family photo portrait taken. Commemorative gifts should also be given to all those who attend. These parties can be held at home, though usually a restaurant is reserved and special celebratory dishes served, for example fish (TAI) or sea bream.

This might all sound quite simple. However, a more detailed explanation of these customs might set your head spinning. For example, individual birthdays were never actually celebrated in Japan (except for a divination ceremony, isho mochi, held on the first birthday). All Japanese grew a year older on New Year's Day. Thus, these celebrations were not actually held on the celebrant's birthday, but on New Year's or another auspicious day. The situation now of course is quite different and the celebration of birthdays has become as popular (for younger people) as it is in the West.

Another complicated point is that until this century the Japanese considered themselves to be 1 year old at birth. If they were born a day before the New Year, they would be considered 2 years old after the New Year, when by contemporary standards they would be just 2 days old. The traditional way of counting ages is called KAZOE-DOSHI. Many older people still use this term when talking about age. In fact, while now the other longevity celebrations are usually based on Western-style age-counting (MAN NENREI), Kanreki (60) is still counted as 61 years in KAZOE DOSHI. If you are confused, you are not alone.

Anyway, with the average age in Japan skyrocketing, the events I've just told you a little about are being held more than ever before, by a huge margin. A celebration of the once extremely rare has  become commonplace.

1 Comments

• At October 25, 2008, Dan Waldhoff wrote:

  Aloha,

  I think that at about the same time(s) in ancient Western cultures (culture ?) life spans were considerably shorter (especially if one were a "heretic" in various Catholic eras or of Judaic persuasion during most of the eras intervening BCE to a relative few years ago). In any case, then or now, Japan is a good place to enjoy longevity!

  As always, thanks to Avi for doing the leg work. We are lucky to have been drawn here and luckier still to have an excellent Guide to the significant details of being here.

  Dan

Years of asking around eventually led to meeting a few elderly locals who knew what these markers were. Little by little I have been able to clear up the mystery of these mounted stick figures. This EXTREMELY LOCALIZED CUSTOM will now be explained for the first time in English (and maybe Japanese as well).

Simply put, the stick figures represent JIZO, one of the most familiar and beloved figures in Buddhist iconography. Anyone who has travelled around Japan and has been to its famous temples has probably seen these monk-like images (sometimes in great numbers), often dressed up by worshippers in shirt, coat, bib or hat, or maybe with some stones piled on them. Jizo, or more respectfully O-Jizo Sama, is a Bodhisattva (one who delays his own Buddha-hood in order to aid in the salvation of others), and because of that has come to be venerated in Japan starting in the Heian period (794-1185). For MUCH MORE DETAILED INFO on just about everything related to Jizo go to this page.

Jizo is regarded as the protector of children (including those who passed away before having been born) and also as a source of solace for dead souls.

The interesting thing around these parts is that when someone passes away, the neighborhood committee (in charge of helping with funerals) prepares these uniquely rustic Jizo figures (even if there are stone Jizos in the cemetery).

The stick figure Jizo placards are set up at the entrance to roads which lead to the cemetery, as a set of two, each with three Jizo characters. This is because Jizos are often found as a set of six, with that number being of great significance in Buddhism.  The graveyard Jizos represent the SIX REALMS OF EXISTENCE, or SIX PATHS (rokudo). The custom of setting up these signboards began with the intention of helping guide the dead souls to wherever it is they have to go. If you look at the photos I have taken, you can see three nails sticking out of each board. Sometimes there are candles fastened onto them (to guide the dead) and sometimes even chili peppers (which serve as imitation flames).

A more practical purpose served by these Jizo boards is helping to guide the Living to the graveyard, which can often be hard to find out in the country. The jizo placards mark the entrance to the paths or roads leading to the cemetery.

So, next time you come across these strangely primitive markers, don't run away! It's not black magic or voodoo. It's just jizo, helping the spirits on their way.

1 Comments

• At October 21, 2008, Dan Waldhoff wrote:

  Aloha Avi sama,

  The details of life your writings provide are like oshinko to my rice.

  I can't thank you enough,

  Dan

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.

3 Comments

• At July 1, 2008, Avi wrote:

  What a coincidence to read this posting today. In this part of Japan the existence of the DOWA (同和) (in Ibaraki this is the term is usually used for the descendants of the former outcasts) is hardly EVER mentioned. In all my years in Tsukuba, I've only heard the word brought up by Japanese in conversation three or four times, and always by school teachers (I've never heard the word burakumin used by Japanese).

  Just last night, however, a few hours before checking TSUKUBLOG, I got a call from a friend (a Japanese school teacher) who had paid a visit to a local hospital to check up on one of her students who had been severely beaten. She said he was doing fine and that he was proud to have gotten a nice private room because his father was the head of the Dowakai (I guess in English we would say the Burakumin Association). The fight in which the boy was injured had nothing to do with the dowa problem, but in most cases the parents might have made a big stink or sued the other boy's family. The Dowa Kaicho, however, kept a very cool head it seems, and held serious discussions with BOTH boys and their families making everyone promise to solve their problems peacefully in the future. The hospital staff all gathered to make respectful greetings when the Kaicho left the building.

  The Ibaraki schools have long been making active efforts to be sensitive to the feelings of the descendants of the former outcasts. In fact, this Dowakai seems to have quite a lot of influence in Tsukuba public schools, and teachers and principals always make sure to make formal greetings to its leaders, and the group seems to do a lot for the schools, too. I can relate several interesting anecdotes, so if anyone is interested please let me know. The teacher also said she could arrange for an interview with the Kaicho himself.

  In regard to the use of the word BURAKU, there is a huge difference in nuance and usage between Kansai and eastern, especially northeastern Japan. here in Tsukuba City the word BURAKU is commonly used, in particular by older people, to refer to their village or hamlet within the town. I hear the word used all the time. When Kansai people living in Tsukuba hear that word used their faces usually change color in embarrassment,as in their part of Japan it is a VERY OFFENSIVE TERM. They would use the words SHURAKU, or MURA.

  What strange creatures we humans are! Why do so many of us need to have someone or some group to put down. It's good to know that there are people like Tim trying to make the world a better, more caring place. I hope he continues to share with us his insights into a JAPAN that most of us are unaware of.

  Something else I just remembered: a friend from Hokkaido told me that a derogatory word used for the DOWA was yotsu, or four, as in four-legged beasts. When they wanted to communicate that someone was a yotsu silently they would flash four fingers, letting their friends know that the person being referred to was an outcast.

• At September 7, 2008, TsukuBlog » The River with No Bridge (Hashi No Nai Kawa), New Arrival at ARS Library wrote:

  [...] connection with reading Tim Boyle’s interesting, and thought provoking TSUKUBLOG posting on THE HISTORY OF BURAKUMIN IN JAPAN. The first surprise for me was that after not having heard that subject (burakumin) [...]

• At October 3, 2008, Niya wrote:

  I came to Japan in 1975 when I have learned in the paper that there was a protest of the Burakumin in Tokyo. Later I have read the book called (iirc )Japan's Invisible Race (by Wagatsuma & De Vos) in 1977 as a reading assignment in a class on Japanese culture by an American teacher (paster) at Seinan Univ. in Kyushu.

  Since then never read any written material as good and descriptive as that book.

  Thank you for sharing! Seems an interesting book!

Yesterday as I pulled back the curtain, I expected to have a further look at Tsukuba's descent into the dried out browns and straw yellows of December. Instead, what I saw had me calling out "Come quick, and look!" Just then the phone rang. It was a friend saying, "Look towards the mountain! It's a rainbow!" After saying thanks (for telling me what I had already known), the phone rang again, with the same news! Surely, few natural phenomena can bring such a thrill!

We savoured the spectacle for the few minutes that it lasted, and I then set out for work with the feeling that this would be a special day. I also couldn't stop thinking about rainbows, or as they are called in Japanese NIJI (虹）, and how until modern science came along to finally (and de-mystifyingly) explain their occurrence, they were the true stuff of myth, with the various cultures and religions of the world each offering their own unique answer to the question: Why are there rainbows?

The Japanese traditionally associate rainbows with bridges (now you know why the famous Rainbow Bridge is so named ). In the KOJIKI, Japan's oldest (8th century) surviving text which recounts its creation myths in an archaic Sino-Japanese, we are told of how the Gods brought into existence a divine couple (Izanagi no Mikoto and Izanami no Mikoto) who were called upon to create the LAND. For this they used a special rod called a HOKO (this is what the long poles featured on the floats of the famous festival in Kyoto are called) with which they stirred the sea while standing on a heavenly bridge called AME NO UKI HASHI, thus creating Terra-Firma. This celestial bridge was interpreted as being a rainbow.

Thus the scene of a rainbow over Mt. Tsukuba has special significance, as its twin peaks are where Izanagi and Izanami are enshrined.

I have not found any evidence for this yet, but think about all the old bridges you've seen at shrines around Japan. In fact have a look at any of the bridges shown in old wood-block prints. They are arc shaped, like rainbows.

Rainbows can be seen any time of year, but in Japan are most likely to appear in the summer rainy season.

As you can imagine, there are numerous poems (dating back to the MANYOSHU) which try to capture the WONDER that one senses when seeing these tantalizingly ephemeral colored arches.

Sengen-Zuka ( 千現塚), Tsukuba`s Little Mt Fuji

Tsukuba`s Sengen (千現) District is not only a conveniently located upscale residential neighborhood (within easy reach of both the TX rail and JR Highway Bus Stations), but it is also home to an internationally renowned research institute (NIMS) and a major facility for Japan`s Space Agency, JAXSA ( I should also mention the presence of the tastefully appointed  flower shop- Blomster Anna ). Thus, I guess it could be said that this makes SENGEN one of the more prestigious and sought after addresses in Tsukuba City. The other day, while walking through that part of town, I made a fascinating discovery which revealed how EVEN IN PAST AGES , when the area that is now called SENGEN was  still mostly MARSHLAND,  it had been a coveted piece of real estate  which was vied for, and fought over by local residents, who at that time (The Edo Period 1600-1868) happened to belong to different clans . I got to know this , and plenty of other fascinating things as well, by stumbling upon a wooded mound, which I learned had  been dubbed - Tsukuba`s Mt. Fuji- atop of which stands a large slab upon which its tale has been inscribed.

The Stairs Leading Up The SENGEN-ZUKA (千現塚), Tsukuba`s Mt Fuji

 Before telling you the details of the history I found etched into the stone, let me first explain how I stumbled upon it, because some of the scenery I found along the route which brought me there bears great significance ( I realized later) to the tale which I will tell.

On a beautiful early summer day, I was in the Ninomiya neighborhood of Tsukuba, and  had a couple of hours to spare before an appointment a few Kilometers away in Takezono (another of Tsukuba`s neighborhoods). Instead of taking the bus, as I would have done if I had been more pressed for time, I decided to stroll around Doho Park and try to catch a glimpse of  some of the kingfishers ( kawasemi) which can often be seen on the western edge of the park`s pond, and then walk to Takezono.

The pond at Doho Park , still thick with reeds and other marsh vegetation on its eastern edge, is a remnant of an extensive system of marshes and woods which once existed in the area upon which The Tsukuba Science City was eventually built. These marshlands ran pretty much on a North-South axis, with the Oto-Numa Marsh (which still exists) demarcating its southern limit, and the grounds of what is now KEK (The High Energy Physics Laboratory), which had once been a big marsh,  near the systems northern edge. We can still find reed filled ponds within the precincts of The Space Center, Sanso-Ken ( NIAS), The Meteorological Research Institiute,  Matsumi Park, Tsukuba University, etc., and these are all aligned along the same axis (now sandwiched between Nishi-Odori and Higashi-Odori, major boulevards which run paralel to each other), and they are a testament to what Central Tsukuba was like in past ages.

Remnants Of Tsukuba`s Marshlands

I walked around the Doho Park pond and then headed off towards Takezono. I passed through the Sengen neighborhood, dropped in at the flower shop, and then crossed Higashi-Odori (at the interesection near the Chin-Rai Ramen Shop) and entered into the Kurakake section of Tsukuba City, which has until now been relatively free of modern development. After 50 meters or so down the road, just passed a graveyard, there was a little hill, crowned by a big, old cherry tree. If I had been in a car or on bicycle, I probably would have just kept going (as I had, many time before on this road) and not found anything. But as I was on foot, I noticed a staircase, just barely visible from the road, which led up the hill. I then proceeded to skamper up the 23 steps to the top.

The Story Of The SENGEN-ZUKA

There, the land had been flattened out creating a tiny hilltop plateau. Directly in front of me, in the shadow of the big cherry tree, stood two low, squat, stone monuments, one of quite recent make, and the other, so old that it had been severely mis-shapen after years (centuries?) of exposure to the elements. On the newer stone, inscribed with perfect clarity, were the characters reading: FUJISAN (MT. Fuji). A careful examination of the older stone, also revealed, (after finding the angle at which the light hit the stones surface in just the right way), the same characters.

 As I straightened myself up and turned to the right, I found myself face to face with a large gray stone slab , which stood much taller than the average person. At the top it read- SENGEN-ZUKA YURAI (千現塚由来), which means: The Origin of The Sengen Mound. Here ( in summary) is the story the stone tells:

In the year 1690, there was a land dispute between two villages. One was Onozaki, part of the Yatabe Clan`s holdings (lying to the west of the marshlands) and the other was Kurakake, then part of the the Tsuchiura Clan`s Territory. Each village claimed the marshland as its own. At that time the resources of the marshes, reeds, thatch and other grasses were of great value for the villagers  for use as roofing, and animal fodder, and also for making various objects for everyday life. The two villages took the dispute to court. In an effort to ensure victory in the suit, certain Kurakake villagers travelled to the foot of Mt Fuji, to the Sengen Shrine (浅間神社) to appeal for intervention. 

A New Stone Reading- Mt Fuji, Beside A Much Older Stone With The Same Inscription

In 1697 the Shogunate`s officials made a decision in favor of Kurakake. In thanks to the God for helping to make the vilagers prayers come true, a mound was constructed which offered a view of Mt. Fuji, and the Goddess of the Sengen Jinja was enshrined there. Thereafter it become a focus of worship for the people. Erected 1979.

Now this story is interesting at many levels. First, The Japanese now pride themselves on having a society with very few lawyers, and in which LITIGATION is unusual. It is surprising to find that more than 300 years ago, traditional hamlets in this area resorted to lengthy( 7 years), and probably very expensive legal maneuvering (just think of the cost in bribes alone!).

Then there is the matter of  Mt. Fuji Worship, a religious sect (FUJI-SHINKO) which actually came into being  in Nagasaki (quite a distance from the mountain itself !) between the years 1532 and 1553) . This sect focused on pilgrimages to Mt Fuji and asceticisms in the caves and lava tubes around the mountain. During the Edo Period (1600-1868), the popularity of this sect spread among the people (especially in and around the capital, Edo). To this day when climbing mt Fuji, you might come across devotees of the sect, clad in wera pilgrim-wear , while walking keep up a continuous chant of ROKKON SHOJO ROKKON SHOJO. The little Fuji Mound in Tsukuba, was a  place where people could not actually make it to the REAL MOUNTAIN could make a SYMBOLIC visit. It also intersting to note that there is a big cherry tree on the Fuji Mound. This is not the work of chance. You see, the Goddess of  Mt Fuji,  KONOHANA SAKKUYA HIME. is also the Goddess of Cherry Blossoms in Full Bloom ( and by extension, the Goddess of Mortality, as cherry blossoms quickly fade away after blooming).

This Goddess is also appealed to for families who want children, and for pregnant women`s easy delivery. The reason for this is that according  to japanese mythology, KONOHANA SAKKUYA HIME was inpregnated after spending just one night with her huband, NINIGI NO MIKOTO, who became extemely suspicious. Thinking that the child must be from another man (or God, should I say), NINIGI set fire to the hut is which his wife was giving birth. Miraculously, mother and child were unscathed. This naturally makes theisGoddess an obvious choice as a  deity to appeal to for conception or easy delivery.

Then we have the matter of the place name SENGEN. It was only natural for the villagers, as a way of expressing their appreciation, to name the piece of land that they had won in the suit after the God which had give them that little extra edge. Now the characters used for this neighborhood have changed to 千現, so unless one knows the obscure bit of history inscribed on the slab, it would not be possible to guess at the origin of the place name. Also, the characters for the SENGEN SHRINE (　浅間神社), are often misread even by Japanese, as ASAMA JINJA. Thus, few people who read the slab would make the connection between the story of the mound and the name of the neighborhood which lies just across the road.

Well now you know!

And if you are thinking about climbing the real Mt Fuji this summer, but are PUT OFF by all the effort and SUFFERING that this would involve, you might want to consider conquering Tsukuba`s little Mt Fuji instead. You can do it in just 23 easy steps!

1 Comments

• At July 2, 2009, Ellen Taleon wrote:

  Dear Avi,

  Nice sleuth work..Wow, you are a better historian than some

  locals maybe..And you have the talent and imagination to write it down in eloquent and colorful narrative too.By the way, I noticed that you have written so many articles about Tsukuba and the neighboring areas to date. You can already compile them and make them into a lucrative book about Tsukuba..

  Thanks for sharing such Tsukuba stories and

  tales to the foreign community. Since we can barely understand

  the language, it is nice to know some tidbits and glimpses into

  the city we have come to love..in a language we are all familiar with..and from the same viewpoint,that of the gaijin outsider..

Each summer in Japan, usually in mid or late July, you will find that department stores and COMBINIs (convenience stores) have set up special displays and counters for promoting and selling ready- to- eat, steamed and grilled UNAGI (eel). At the same time, banners advertising these succulent, snake-like delicacies, can be seen lining the roads leading to shops and restaurants which specialize in them . Even those who are JAPANESE ILLITERATE can clearly make out what is being touted by these fluttering NOBORI (flags), as the U (う), which is the first syllabic character used to spell UNAGI is printed in a long, exaggerated line (often with a head and a tail), forming the shape of an eel!

A NOBORI advertizing UNAGI (eel)

You may ask what this is all about? Your Japanese friends or acquaintances will probably give you the SIMPLE , STANDARD explanation- that eating nutritious eel helps you beat Japan`s notorious summer heat, and keeps NATSU-BATTE (summer lethargy) at bay. They will also tell you that it is customary to have UNAGI ( usually served on rice and in a distinctive sauce) on a specific day, traditionally said to be the hottest of the year, which is called DOYO NO USHI NO HI (土用の丑の日), and which literally means the Day of The Ox During DOYO ( in 2011 this will be on July 21st).

Now all of this is clearly understandable and perfectly correct. But for those you who would like to delve deeper into the roots and significance of this extremely popular custom ( you can bet that I have MY eel every summer! ), I would like to explain just what DOYO (土用) means, why the Day of The Ox (丑の日) during the DOYO is significant, and then, why it is EEL that has become the most popular TONIC for that day. I will also show you that there are alternative foods for those who have not developed a taste for UNAGI (or its distinctive shape).

Let me begin with the basics. The traditional Japanese calendar consists of 4 perfectly balanced, 90 day seasons, with the official first day of each season falling between the solistices (the longest and shortest days of the year) and the equinoxes ( the two days in the year in which daytime and night-time are equal). Accordingly, the first day of spring (RISHUN, 立春) is half-way between the winter solistice (TO-JI, 冬至) and the spring equinox (shunbun no hi, 春分の日), the first day of summer (RIKKA, 立夏), is between the spring equinox and the summer solistice ( GESHI, 夏至), the first day of autumn (RISHUー, 立秋) between the summer solistice and the autumnal equinox (shubun no hi, 秋分の日), and, likewise, the first day of winter (RITO-, 立冬) lies between the autumnal equinox and the winter solistice. As I have mentioned above, there are 90 days between each of these official seasonal changes.

Doyo (土用), according to the traditional calendar, is the 18 (or 19) day period before EACH seasonal change day. And though, as you now know, there are actually 4 DOYO periods in a year, most contemporary Japanese now associate this expression ONLY with the summer.

To understand the etymology and significance of the term DOYO (土用), which contains the Chinese character DO (土), meaning earth, or soil, we have to look at traditional Chinese Yin Yan (陰陽) Theory and more specifically the concept of the 5 elements (五行) which has had such a great impact on Japanese thought. According to this way of thinking, most things in the world can be associated with either YIN (the passive) or YANG (the active), OR with one of the five elements. These are: wood, fire, earth, metal, and water. Each season, of course, is also associated with one of these elements- spring with wood, summer with fire, autumn with metal, and winter with water. As you can see, there are only four seasons, so what about the fifth element- earth? Well, traditionally this became connected to EACH period of seasonal change. That is why this 18 day period, which comes four times a year, is the earth period. According to these beliefs, one should not engage in any projects which upset the earth (digging a well, etc) during these DOYO periods.

Now that we understand what DOYO means ( and PLEASE remember that I am only giving the scantest explanation of EXTREMELY complex traditional concepts), lets look at what The Day of The Ox is, and why that day is considered to be of special significance.

If you look at a Japanese calendar (even today) you often find that printed on it each day of the year has, in order, one of the TWELVE ANIMALS OF THE CHINESE ZODIAC ( junishi, 十二支), just as each consecutive year has. These animals are- RAT, OX , TIGER , RABBIT , DRAGON , SNAKE , HORSE , SHEEP , MONKEY, ROOSTER, DOG ,and BOAR. The characters used to represent these animals as zodiac sign are DIFFERENT from those we use to represent the actual animals. That is why Day of The Ox, is written 丑の日, with 丑、as cow or ox, and not the more familiar (to basic students of Japanese) character: 牛.

Since Doyo periods are usually 18 days long and there are twelve zodiac signs, it is quite common for a DAY of The Ox (ushi no hi) to occur not only once, but twice within that period (Im not good at math, but you can do the calculations yourself).

The questions remains as to WHY the ox would be of special significance during the summer DOYO. OK. This period has traditionally been the hottest time of the year in Japan. Those of you who have experienced this overwhelming heat and humidity know how it can sap you of all your strength and knock you out of action. The ox is significant in that it can act as a COUNTER-BALANCE to the summer heat ! Here is why. Not only each day and year, but also each month is designated its own zodiac sign. The sixth month of the old calendar ( usually July) is Month of The Sheep (未). Directly on the other side of the year , is the frosty 12th month (usually January). The zodiac animal of this, the coldest of months, is the OX ! In other words, the the cold bearing powers of the ox are called forth for assistance when the year is experiencing its hottest days ! In Ying Yang thinking FINDING THE BALANCE is always important, and the Ox help to level out the sheep!

Now you see why the Ox Days are significant during the summer DOYO. But why has eating eel been so popular on these days? Again, the explanation is not simple.

It seems that there has long been the belief that any food beginning with the syllable U (as in ushi- cow), would bring relief from summers oppressive stranglehold. That is why, to this day, besides Unagi (eel), there are those who eat Udon (wheat noodles), Uri (gourd), or Umeboshi (salted plums), on DOYO NO USHI NO HI. Today, I stopped by at an eel restaurant, and they were serving DOYO UME- plums for DOYO along with their unagi.

The man who is credited with having made eel into THE food to be eaten on DOYO NO USHI NO HI is the polymath Hiraga Gennai (1729-1779), one of the more interesting characters of pre-modern Japan. The story goes like this. An acquintance of Gennai who ran an eel restaurant had fallen on slow times. To help whip up business, the well-known and well- loved inventor, writer and artist wrote up a sign for the shop saying that it was the Day of The Ox During Doyo (and a good time to eat unagi, which begins with a U !) The sign was a big hit (as you can now imagine) and thus was begun, along with Valentine chocolates and Christmas cakes and chickens one of the greatest commercial successes linking a particular product with a special day.

Eating eel DOES make sense though, for the Japanese in summer, since it is HIGHLY NUTRITIOUS. In fact, in Japans oldest collection of poems (The Manyoshu) there are two poems on the theme of eating eel to prevent SUMMER WEIGHT-LOSS, by one of the greatest Japanese poets of all time- OTOMO NO YAKAMOCHI.

Something else to consider is that another obvious choice for a nutritious dish on the Day of The Ox would be BEEF. Pre-modern Japanese , however, did not eat animals with legs (mostly) and thus cows were not eaten (eels, on the other hand, are just about as far as you can get from having legs!).

EATING UNAGI

So, there you have it. This years DOYO NO USHI NO HI  is coming up, so while you should have no trouble finding eel at supermarkets, you WILL have trouble getting in the better UNAGI RESTAURANTS ( especially on the the 21st this year).

The most popular way to prepare unagi in the Kanto Area ( which includes Tokyo and Tsukuba as well) is called KABA YAKI ( see photo on top), which is steamed and then grilled eel, basted in a special sauce. It it served on rice in a laquer box ( this is called UNAJU) or in a bowl ( UNADON) and most people sprinkle a special condiment called SANSHO ( Japanese pepper, or Shechuan pepper) on top ( somtimes the sanso has a slight numbing effect on the lips and tongue!)

It is interesting to note that in the Kansai Area ( around Kyoto and Nara) the eel is only grilled and NOT steamed. I cannot tell you how it is prepared that way, as I have never eaten unagi in Kansai!

Another way of preparing eel that I would like to try is SHIRAYAKI- which is eel steamed without the sauce. another friend, who is something of a gourmet has told me that UNATORO is delicious. This is pieces of eel mixed into grated yama imo ( a kind of tuber) poured over rice. Sounds deeeeelish!

Avi Landau

2 Comments

• At July 21, 2011, Avi Landau wrote:

  With this weeks typhoon stirring up the atmosphere and pulling plenty of chilled northern air down this way, this year`s DOYO NO USHI NO HI turned out to be nice and cool. Still the unagi restaurants were full and out about town today I often caught a whiff of grilled eel in the air.

• At July 22, 2011, Beat the heat with eel | Tokidoki Tokyo wrote:

  [...] eel is a popular way of relieving the effects of  natsubate  (summer exhaustion).  Today is national eel eating day.  Yoshinoya fast food chain advert claiming, `Summer Is Eel And Rice`. As if we did not know that [...]

By Avi Landau

One of the questions you are most frequently asked by Japanese people who you meet for the first time is- HOW OLD ARE YOU? This can be a little disconcerting for you once you get beyond a certain age, but dont let it make you paranoid- its not that you look SO OLD or SO YOUNG- its just that in Japanese culture being aware of other`s ages is extremely important. You could even say that in Japan there is a CULT OF AGE. By this I do not mean one of youth or old age ( though youth IS highly regarded in itself). What I mean is that in Japanese culture, one`s age, no matter what it my be, bears with it great significance.
The foremost reason necessitating being aware of another`s age for the Japanese is to determine who is senior and who is junior, since in this Confucian influenced society this will affect the character of the relationship formed and the form of speech which will be used .
Besides this, in Japanese culture, certain ages represent certain MILESTONES or TURNING POINTS in ones life. These include the many UNLUCKY AGES ( yakudoshi, 厄年), the main ones being ages 42 for men and 33 for women. (interestingly these age related events are mirrored almost perfectly for The dead with memorial services on the 1st ,3rd, 7th, 13th 33rd etc. year anniversaries).

Most of these special ages, however, beginning with a baby`s official naming on the 7th day after birth, are happy occassions, culminating in the special longevity celebrations held at 60, 70, 77,80,88,90,99 and 100 years.
Since it is now November, today I would to discuss one of Japan`s most popular, and probably, with its minions of adorable kimono clad kids being escorted to atmospheric shrines by beaming parents and grandparents, its most photo-friendly rite of passage event- SHICHI-GO-SAN ( 七五三), literally the 3-5-7 celebration.
Today, this event is typically celebrated by families with 3 year old or seven year old girls and five year old boys. These families buy or rent FESTIVE WEAR ( HARE-GI- 晴れ着), traditionally meaning Japanese style kimono( though you will often find boys in  suits), going to the photographers studio for commemorative portraits ( often in different styles of dress) and then visiting a shrine to pray for the childs growth and health. The child will also usually carry a bag of special candy called CHITOSE AME ( 千歳飴- thousand year candy), beautifully decorated with symbols of long life- cranes, turtles, pine, bamboo and plum as well as auspcious chinese characters.

Optimally this should take place on the 15th of November, though anytime in November is appropriate ( however, I HAVE heard that before the 15th is better than after)
In Ibaraki Prefecture ( yes, it seems that it is true ONLY here), the event is often celebrated with much more extravagance- especially by families from traditional hamlets. After, visiting the shrine, relatives and friends are invited for a reception at a restaurant or even a fancy hotel. Emcees and photographers are invited, speeches are made. It is not very differentt from a wedding.
I have even heard that when children celebrate a shichi-go-san, their family changes the tatamis and shoji doors ( which is also a custom for weddings).
Now just what is the origin of these customs? Well, as is the rule with Japanese culture, the sources are diverse and the evolution intriguing.
As I have often mentioned in relation to Japanese festivals, ODD NUMBERS are considered auspicious ( this concept was introduced in the 6th century from China). Thus, the Doll Festival is on March 3rd ( 3/3), Childrens Day May 5th (5/5), Tanabata July 7th ( 7/7), etc.
It is thus understandable why the aristocrats of the Heian Period ( and subsequent generations of Japanese)would hold rite of passage ceremonies for their children on ODD NUMBERED years.
Another important concept behind the 7-5-3 ceremony is the fact that the Japanese did not consider children to be full members of the community until they were seven years old. By this I mean that children were not registered as part of the population ( in the NINBETSU-CHO), until they were seven. Those who died before that age were not given the usual funeral or buried in their family graves.
Thus attaining the age of 7 signified becoming a member of the community and of becoming a full-fledged PERSON.
Still, in the years from the Heian Period (794-1185) to the end Edo Period (1600-1868), there was no standardized SHICHI-GO-SAN, as we know it today. The noble and samurai families DID have special ceremonies for 3 year old children ( KAMI-OKI) after which their hair was allowed to grow out instead of being shaved. Five year old boys had a ceremony for wearing their first HAKAMA ( special trousers) called HAKAMA-GI. And then for seven year old girls there was the ceremony for tying their first OBI sash, called the Obi-toki.
These ceremonies DID NOT necessarily take place specifically in November.
As I have written many times before, the Japanese populace always admired the higher classes and aspired to their ways. Thus, during the Edo period and the growth of a prosperous and thriving merchant culture, these customs were taken on by the townspeople and farmers as shrines , kimono makers , and sweets makers all promoted this event. It was a huge hit and had a huge commercial impact, hinting at things to come with Valentines Day and Christmas in contemporary Japan.

Just why Shichi-Go-San came to be celebrated in November, and especially on November 15th, remains unclear. Some it is because that was the celebration day of one of the children of the Tokugawa Family, ( which ruled during the Edo Period). Tokugawa Tsunayoshi, to be specific

 Anyway, being just after harvest season, it is a perfect time for rural Japanese to celebrate their childrens growth and health in style.

                    And to make everything I have written about above even MORE CONFUSING!

Traditionally, the Japanese considered chidren to be 1 year old at the time of birth. Even today when considering celebrating the various special age events, many Japanese decide to do so on the KAZOE DOSHI ( meaning the tradiotional way of calculating age). That means that many people that celebrate SHICHI-GO-SAN when their children are either 6, 4, or 2 ! Or celebrate their BEI JU ( for 88 year-olds) when they are in fact 87. With the westernization of all things advancing at a steady pace, however, more and more people are celebrating these events according to their MAN doshi ( which is how westerners have calculated age: 0 at birth).

Good places to see families dressed up for Shichi-Go-San in Tsukuba are the Mt Tsukuba Shrine and the Izumi Kosodate Kannon, near Hojo.

1 Comments

• At November 9, 2011, akito wrote:

  hi.

  about the Shichi-Go-San, I once read that it is a celebration for children being able to reach the age of seven. back in the old days, infant mortality was very high that if the boys/girls were able to reach the age of seven it would be very much celebrated. parents would go to the shrine to give offering to the gods to thank their grace upon the child's well-being.

  related to that, the warabe-uta Toryanse (the one that is played on traffic-crossing as a sign that it's safe for people to cross the street) is said to be related to Shichi-Go-San. the lyrics of the song implies conversation between a pilgrim and a guard of Tenjin Shrine, where the pilgrim is pleading to be let pass to make offerings to the gods to celebrate a child's 7th birthday. however, another variation of the song shows the darker contrast, where the pilgrim is pleading with the guards of hell, as he is going to bury the child who dies at the age of 7. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T%C5%8Dryanse)

  anyway, i also read that for the Shichi-Go-San, it is for the boys at age 3, girls of age 5, and both sexes at age 7, is it true?

  your blog is very interesting, hope you keep writing ^^

First let`s look at the origin of the term Osechi ( 御節), which an abbreviation of Osechiku (御節供),  literally meaning Offerings for Days of Seasonal Change. Traditionally, besides New Year`s, five special seasonal change days (originally brought over from China) were celebrated in Japan. These are all linked to the fact that according to Chinese thought, ODD NUMBERS are auspicious. Thus  we have:

 O-shogatsu ( the New Year) on the first day of the first month ( 1/1)

 Jinjitsu no Sekku ( 人日の節句) on the seventh day of the first month (1/7)

Joshi no Sekku (　上巳の節句 ) on the third day of the third month ( 3/3)

Tango no Sekku ( 端午の節句) on the fifth day of the fifth month (5/5)

Shichiseki (七夕) on the seventh day of the seventh month (7/7)

and Choyo no Sekku (重陽の節句) on the 9th day of the ninth month

on which special foods were given as offerings to the gods. These Sechiku (offerings) were later eaten by the family or group that presented them.  

Since  the first day of the first month was, and still is, the most important of these seasonal change days, the term Osechi is now  used ONLY to refer to the  special dishes of New Year`s.

(the other seasonal change days ( sekku) are still recognized in Japan  to varying degrees and  have their OWN special dishes which have evolved over the generations. The fifth day of the fifth month is even a national holiday ( Childrens Day), while 3/3 is the popular Doll Festival ( Hina Matsuri) and 7/7 , the Tanabata star Festival. Interestingly, 9/9, the most important of the sekku for the ancient Chinese, besides New Years Day ( because nine is the largest ODD number), did not become truly popular in Japan because in the Japanese language the pronounciation of the number nine -KU-can also mean to suffer.)

Each of the separate dishes which make up what is now called Osechi ( and there can be dozens) are meant to  symbolically represent ( through similarities of sound or shape etc) a good harvest, long healthy life,  the success of ones descendants and conjure up other positive, auspicious  images for the future.

 Osechi dishes also usually include representative foods from the mountain and foods from the sea, as well as foods which are cooked in various styles( grilling,boiling, etc.), and different tastes ( sweet, sour, salty).

As with Japanese cooking in general, they also show deep consideration for healthfulness with  a good balance of vegetables and protein.

The other characteristic of Osechi dishes, is that they must keep for at least three days and can be eaten as they are, that is, without heating up- because over the New Year`s holiday there was NO cooking, traditionally.

Of course, there are variations in, how many, and what dishes comprise the Osechi from family to family , so it goes without saying that their can be great regional variation.

GOMAME 

In the Kanto Area ( around Tokyo), there are 3 dishes which are considered essential ( iwai sakana sanshu- 祝い肴三種), which are-  GOMAME ( boiled and dried sardines, also called TAZUKURI), KUROMAME (黒豆)- boiled black beans, and KAZU NO KO ( 数の子)- herring eggs.

Kazu no ko ( herring roe) 

In Kansai ( around Kyoto and Osaka), the GOMAME, while probably included somewhere in the Osechi, in not considered to be one of the essential three. Instead there is TATAKI GOBO (burdock root boiled in Soy sauce) which is considered a MUST ( the other two are the same).

Traditionally these dishes are packed into a set of stacked laquered boxes, four tiers high ( though now 2 or three tiers is the norm and these are often of cheaper material). This makes for convenient serving.

Besides this utilitarian aspect, all the dishes, with their celebratory colors,  packed into these small boxes makes  a feast for the eyes ( some would say that it is more beautiful than delicious!) and is also symbolic of how the millions of residents of this mountainous island nation have lived cramped together, yet in harmony.

kuromame 

As I mentioned before there is no ONE set way of packing or stacking these boxes but here is a typical way:

The first tier ( ICHI NO JU 一の重) would have the essentials- the KUROMAME ( representing HARD WORK, DILIGENCE and health- because MAME means beans, diligence , energy and health. Their black color bearing the power to drive away bad energies), the Kazu no ko ( herring roe) which represents many descendants ( there are made up of countless eggs) and health of parents ( NISHIN, herring, is a homophone for NISHIN 二親- two parents), and the GOMAME fish, which represent a good harvest ( sardines would traditionally be used to fertilize the rice fields).Date Maki-伊達巻, an egg and fish paste roll shaped to form a swirl were said to have bee a favorite of the great daimyo Date Masamune. Their scroll shaped also can be seen as a celebration of Japan`s traditional literature, which was written and illustrated on scrolls. 

The second tier ( NI NO JU 二の重), contains grilled foods and sea foods- yellowtail (BURI- which represents promotion, as this fish has different names in its different growth stages), shrimp ( whose bent back represents achieving old age), Sea bream ( TAI, which for the Japanese conjures up images of omedeTAI- celebration, etc…

The third tier ( SAN NO JU 三の重) contained vinegared dishes

and the fourth tier ( YO NO JU 与の重, please note that the character here 与 is not the standard character for the number 4 ( 四), which could also be read SHI (death), and is thus avoid. This might also be the reason that four tiers are no longer popular) contained boiled dishes including KONBUMAKI ( kelp) which represents happiness ( because the sound of KONBU is similar to that of yoroKOBU- to be glad) and lotus root, whose holes, which can be peered through, represent the looking toward the future, etc…

As I said, the above does NOT represent the rule and will find variations of this arrangement.

(And there are many more dishes that I have not  mentioned yet. I will add to this list little by little and promise a more comprehensive list by next O-Shogatsu) 

In Japan today many people order their osechi ( each tier costs at least 5,000 Yen and the price can go much higher than that), but many houswives make some of the dishes themselves even if they do order a set.

Each of the dishes can also be bought separately at department stores just before O-shogatsu.

Its fun to sit around the house for three days, noshing now and then out of the osechi trays ( with plenty of SAKE, of course!), enjoying not only the taste and beautiful presentation of the food but also each little tidbit`s symbolic significance.

Some more O-Sechi favorites: Date Maki (伊達巻), on the left- made of eggs and fish meal, and Kamaboko- made of fish paste. These were part of my own O-Sechi ( 2011)

By the way, though O-Sechi can be picked at freely at any time diring the first three days of the year, at MEAL TIMES it is always taken together with O-ZONI (お雑煮), which is a soup containing O-Mochi ( pounded rice cakes). O-zoni is interesting in that though O-Shogatsu is celebrated by just about everyone in Japan in quite a similar way- there is great variation in O-Zoni, depending on the region. There is even a saying TONARI NO ZONI (隣りの雑煮) which means that even within the same region, or neighborhood, O-Zoni varies from household to household.

I have heard that this sometimes leads to spats in the first year of marriage, since a new bride might make O-Zoni which to her husband is NOT O-Zoni. Or since a brides new family might insist that she make O-Zoni THEIR WAY.

Generally speaking,, speaking in Western Japan the Mochi in the soup is usually round, while in Eastern Japan ( including Tsukuba), it is square.

A famous O-Zoni oddity is that in Kagawa Prefecture ( on the island of Shikoku) the Mochi ( which is round) contains AN (餡)- sweet adzuki beans!.

Also, in the Kinki Region ( Nara and Kyoto), the soup is made of white miso paste,

Since in Tsukuba there are  residents who have come from all over Japan, I have always thought it would be fun to have a ZONI event in which the various types of New Year`s soup would be made and served at one place.

Anyway, I hope you get a chance to taste O-Sechi and O-Zoni. Though you can buy the former, the latter is pretty much only made at home. But I think if you mention that you are interested in trying some New Year`s soup with MOCHI to a Japanese friend, that just might bring you some to try! 

And one more thing!

The chopsticks used for eating O-Sechi and O-Zoni are different from normal chopsticks- they are slender at BOTH ENDS! That is because while you are eating, the God of The New Year TOSHI-GAMI SAMA is eating with you! They are also often made of willow wood, which is believed o have the power to drive away evil!

Have a great year!

Junko Takasaki`s O-Zoni (2011) in the style of Iwaki (Fukushima Prefecture)-Taro,Carrots, burdock, fried tofu, mushrooms, leaks and chicken in a soy sauce based broth- topped with citron (yuzu) peel shavings

5 Comments

• At January 2, 2011, Mamoru Shimizu wrote:

  Akemashite Omedetou Gozaimasu!

  Then,「Kotoshi Mo Douzo Yorosiku Onegaishimasu」(rather ritual expression, we very often used this one, literally meaning: Wish your same good relationship with me this year too; but this one is rather merely a matter of routine. It depends upon the importance of the other party to the speaker.

  Mine one in this particular comment toward this Avi-san Kingdom is sincere!! How could one start making lie from the beginning of the New Year!!

  Recently I try to use this expression with sincerity, because there are few occasions for me to have to contact in business.

  Pensioner’s merit!!

  Like to introduce a You-Tube Osyougatu-song, very newly made 2011.1.1

  You-Tube

  お正月の歌 「1月1日」 唱歌 [ 歌詞 ]

  rough traslation

  ①As the first day of the New Year, we should worship endless this World

  Build Pine-Bamboo decorations by gate by gate, it is joyful day

  ②--worship beauty of Mt Fuji-------

• At January 3, 2011, Avi Landau wrote:

  Mamoru-San! A sincere KOTOSHI MO YORSHIKU ONEGAI SHIMASU to you, too. Please continue sending your interesting memories and insights to TsukuBlog. They are valuable for anyone interested in Japanese culture!

  I have an interesting story about the custom of saying YOROSHIKU ONEGAI SHIMASU at the beginning of the new year.It is also an illusration of why you should never DIRECTLY TRANSLATE( if possible) from your own language when you are speaking in another.

  Many years ago, a Japanese friend of mine, a medical doctor,was in the US for one year working at a hospital. At the beginning of January he made the rounds to all his colleagues and other staff to make a proper New Year`s greeting, which for a Japanese person is AKEMASHITE OMEDETO GOZAIMASU,and then KOTOSHI MO YORSHIKU ONEGAI SHIMASU.

  Now the first greeting, which literally means CONGRATULATION UPON THE OPENING OF THE NEW YEAR, has a well known English equivalent- Happy New Year.

  The second expression, however, has NO ENGLISH EQUIVALENT, so at a loss as to what to say, my friend translated directly saying to each doctor, nurse, etc he greeted: PLEASE BE KIND TO ME AGAIN THIS YEAR!

  Since Americans do not say anything even resembling this expression at the new year, ( or at any other time, really), those he greeted were surprised, puzzled, and sometimes outright worried- their faces sayinf what does this guy WANT from me!

  When my friend, after having realized that he caused some discomfort by using this expression asked me what he should have said, all I could say was: We (Americans)have no equivalent of the expression YOROSHIKU ONEGAI SHIMASU. I then suggested more typical New Year`s greetings such as: Have a Happy and Healthy Year, etc.

  The problem of using YOROSHIKU ONEGAI SHIMASU extends well beyond New Year`s time, because the Japanese use this expression everyday in a variety of situations.

  For Japanese people speaking in English, I would recommend just saying NOTHING ( or maybe a simple thank you)at the point at which they naturally want to add YOSHIKU ONEGAI SHIMASU.

  And for foreign students of Japanese, I would recommend not forgetting to use the expression in the MANY situatuations in which it is used- and there are MANY!- especially when meeting someone. or when saying good bye to someone with whom you have a continuing relationship!

  For people who can converse freely in both English and Japanese there is a simple solution when speaking or writing in English. You can mix languages and say:

  Have a Happy and Healthy New Year!

  Yoroshiku Onegai Shimasu!

• At January 11, 2011, alice wrote:

  Could you please explain the meaning of date-maki. Some think that it is related to the feudal lord, Date while others say that it's the fashionable wear during an auspicious occasions in ancient times. I am confused!

• At January 11, 2011, Avi Landau wrote:

  Hi Alice. This is a good question. There is no ONE certain theory regarding the origin of the name of the egg-and-fishpaste-rolls shaped to form a swirl are called DATE MAKI, or why they are included among the New Year`s dished (O-Sechi).

  Some say these were a favorite dish of the great daimyo ( feudal lord) Date Masamune. This would be a one possible reason to include them in the osechi since they give symbolic connection to a great and powerful man.

  However, the word Date, deriving from the said daimyo`s name, also came to mean stylish, showy, and extravagant, in general. Maybe since Date Maki, which contain egg yolks (once a luxury item), were called DATE MAKI to mean FANCY ROLLS.

  The piece of womens clothing you refer to would have the same etymology.

  Another interesting symbolic meaning attributed to Date Maki are that their roll shape represents classical Japanese literature, which instead of being written in BOOKS was written and illustrated on SCROLLS.

  The Date Maki would thus represent a desire to become more cultured or learned in the classics.

• At January 12, 2011, alice wrote:

  Thanks Avi,

  You have done your homework well! To tell you the truth, some Japanese (even my mother-in-law) I asked doesn't know that there is a difference in otoso. In the Kanto regions, it is plain sweet sake whereas in the Kansai regions, otoso served is sweet herbal sake.

It is ironic that with Japan's often gloomy summer rainy season, there is usually plenty more sunshine in mid-winter than there is in mid-summer. And so, though today, the To-Ji (冬至), or winter solstice was certainly the shortest day of the year, it was also one of the sweetest -- with clear blue skies, no winds, and temperatures which were neither too hot nor too cold. In other words, a perfect day for fire-walking, which is what was going on today at Makabe's Kabasan Jinja Shrine, just as it has been on every winter solstice day for more than five hundred years.

When I arrived at the shrine at noon, a dense and excited crowd had already gathered tightly round the area which had been marked off earlier in the day with sacred bamboo (imitake) and rope (shimenawa). Standing on tip-toes (I am not your stereotypical TALL gaijin) I could have a look at what was going on within the sacred space. At the far end, a portable shrine had been set up, with various offerings from the sea (umi no mono), from the fields (yama no mono), and plenty of O-Miki (ritual sake) neatly arranged on an altar which was also adorned with branches of sacred sakaki, which would attract the GODS to this spot.

In the center of the cordoned off space was a neat pyre of chopped pine wood, with some ritual paper representing the deity of the shrine placed on top in the center. Five men, two of them younger, and three much older who were dressed in white robes and head-dresses more reminiscent of the Sahara or Arabia than China or Japan, were busy with various preparations. The oldest gentleman, who I later learned is in his mid-80s, was performing various purification rituals, consecutively waving sakaki, a sword, and blowing a conch (hora-gai).

Quickly tiring of standing on tip-toes, I set about exploring the precincts of this venerable shrine, which legend says was first founded by the semi-mythical barbarian subduer Yamato Takeru, who supposedly prayed at this site for victory in his campaigns of Eastern conquest. Today scores of parishioners clad in white HAPI coats and head-bands were busy chatting in the various shrine offices. Other visitors, from far and near, were buying votive tablets, tossing coins into the main offering box, taking pictures, or just waiting around impatiently for the ceremony to begin.

I was also able to chat with some of the shrine staff about the history of the shrine and the fire walking ceremony (Hi-Watari), which I will relay to you later. But now it was time to get into position for watching and photographing the ritual, and relying on plenty of pent up New York wile and CHUZTPAH I was able to manoeuvre myself into a favorable spot.

At this point, the old men in white were kneeling in front of the altar, muttering incantations with great concentration and solemnity. They then went ahead and lit the pyre, which on the windless day burned beautifully. The crowd watched the flames, as if intoxicated, for more than thirty minutes, as the old priests circled, chanting to themselves, and going through what looked like martial arts KATA (pattern practices), sometimes miming sword strikes which included strong KIAI (cries of EEII). They also would occasionally take colorful amulets from their belts and hold them up to the fire as they circled, looking as if they were seeking the fire's weak points which they would  attack.

As the fire burned down, the younger men used long sticks to create a path down the center of the pyre. When this was ready, the oldest man drew his sword and performed another purification ritual. Building up his courage he let out a strong kiai as he passed through the center of the flames. He then stopped in front of the altar acknowledged the KAMI (Gods) and took a swig of O-Miki. He was quickly followed by the other white-men.

When they were finished, it was the parishioners' turns. They all filed through the fire, and then on to the altar, as if drawn uncontrollably to the sacred SAKE.

After leaving the sacred area these locals proceeded to the shrine office where they cleaned their feet, received a certificate of having participated and settled down for some beverages and snacks. After all the parishioners had passed through the flames, it was time for anyone else who wanted to to do so.

This took quite a long time, as all sorts of folks, young old, mothers carrying babies, passed through the fire.

When I asked those who had just passed through if their feet burned, they all seemed to agree that more than hot feet, it was their faces that felt the heat, from the flames on both sides.

When the last person FINALLY passed through, the old man called out - FINISHED. Then pandemonium broke out; as the crowd rushed into the sacred compound.

Many locals bring metal containers into which they put some burnt wood or embers from the fire. They then keep this in their houses for one year as protection from colds. The mad scramble for these red hot pieces of wood seemed very dangerous, but luckily no one seemed to have gotten burned.

The Mt. Kaba Shrine Fire Walking Ritual had come to an end, and everyone seemed very satisfied indeed.

In 1394, the abbot of the Enryaku-Ji temple, which protects Kyoto from the unlucky North-Eastern direction and is probably Japan's most influential temple, travelled the country making pilgrimages to its sacred sites. One place he and his entourage of monks visited was Mt Kaba, which was supposed to have once been used for sacred rites. This priest, Genkai-Shonin (源海上人), carried out various esoteric rituals which were part of the Tendai Sect and had been brought to Japan from India and perhaps Persia, by way of China where the sect's founder Saicho had come into contact with them. It is from these ancient practices that the current Mt Kaba Shrine's Fire Walking Ritual have evolved, and that is why they have such an exotic air. Please keep in mind that until the Meiji Period (1868-1912) Buddhism and what is now called Shinto (native religious practice) were often combined in a syncretic form of worship.

The fire walking ritual is believed not only to cleanse all those who undergo it of one year's worth of impurities, but also helps to invigorate the sun, which until the day after the solstice gradually becomes weaker and weaker in the sky.

I myself almost took off my shoes and passed through the flames. I was seriously contemplating it... but I got cold feet.

Maybe next year.

2 Comments

• At December 23, 2008, Anja wrote:

  Hi Avi,

  Thank you for this and all your other stories. I always enjoy them a lot. We were all set to go the shrine on Sunday morning, only to find out that there was no bus going to Makabe on that day (and we do not have a car). But thanks to your story I have the feeling that we were still a bit present.

  Anja

• At December 25, 2008, Avi wrote:

  Its too bad that you couldnt have been there, especially on such a fine day! Next time, send me a mail and we can all go together.

  Thanks alot for your comments and have a great holiday season!

Plum Blossoms In Tsukuba - Feb. 4, 2009

Even in Japan's mild-wintered Kanto region, in most years, on February 4th, radio and television weathercasters can do nothing but complain about the inappropriately cold weather. This year, however, on that day, afternoon temperatures actually reached a toasty 14 degrees centigrade, an unusual case of the weather properly befitting the occasion, Risshun (立春), the first day of spring. And, as an extra treat, many of Tsukuba's plum blossoms (ume no hana), Japan's symbolic harbingers of spring, burst into bloom (perfectly on cue) on the very same day! These earliest blooming of Japan's popular flowering trees are also its most fragrant, and yesterday's warm breezes might have carried their thick, sweet, syrupy smell to your nose.

The traditional Japanese calendar is divided into 24 equal sections called SEKKI (節気), which creates an idealized, perfectly balanced four-seasoned year. The first day of spring is determined as the exact middle point between the winter solstice (冬至, toji) and the vernal equinox (春分の日、shunbun no hi), which usually has RISSHUN fall on February 4th. Subsequently, we have the first day of summer (Rikka, 立夏) on May 5th this year, that being the day equidistant from the spring equinox and the summer solstice (geshi, 夏至）. The other two seasonal turning points, the first day of autumn (risshuu, 立秋) and the first day of winter (rittou, 立冬), are determined in the same manner, creating four seasons, each ninety days long.

Plum blossoms In Tsukuba's Botanical Garden - Feb. 4, 2009

When Japan still followed its old calendar, Risshun, the first day of spring, was also the first day of the new year, the day on which all Japanese would grow one year older together. That is why on the evening of the previous day (February 3rd, this year), it is the tradition to eat the same number of soy beans as your age (sometimes plus one!), in what is called the SETSUBUN festival. Another name for the evening before RISSHUN was TOSHI NO YORU (歳の夜), which could be translated as the BIRTHDAY EVENING.

Of course, the Japanese seasonal divisions are not usually in accordance with meteoroloigical realities, as the coldest days of the year usually hit during the weeks AFTER the first day of spring, and in many parts of Japan the snow remains deep. There is even a famous expression and lyric to a well-known song which goes "HARU WA NA NOMI" (春は名のみ), which means "spring in name only". Despite the cold of early spring, for the Japanese it was the OCCASIONAL warm breeze, the stirring of certain plants and animals and the blooming of the plum blossoms (especially on snow covered branches), that is to say the little CHANGES and HINTS which gave hope and expectation of things to come that were what early spring was recognized as and appreciated for.

The blossoms of the plum tree (ume no ki), which has been bred into such numerous varieties since being brought to Japan more than 1000 years ago by returnees of missions to various Chinese dynastic courts, rival those of Japan's national flower, the cherry blossoms (sakura no hana) in terms of endearment in the hearts of the Japanese people. In fact, in the early Showa Period, there was a heated debate over which of the two WOULD become the national flower. The plum's strong points were not only that it was beautiful and highly fragrant and the first major blossom of the new year and thus symbol of spring's coming, praised so often by Japan's greatest classical poets. It was also a unique feature of the DAILY JAPANESE DIET in the form of UME BOSHI, or salted plums, as well as a popular ingredient for liquor and juice. It was probably the fact that plum blossoms were already the national flower of China (which they still are in Taiwan), and had been introduced to Japan from there that the UME lost out. Of course, there is also the matter of the more delicate cherry blossoms being more representative of the quintessential Japanese notion, MUJO, the fleeting nature of all things.

Despite having been brought in from abroad, the first western scientists to encounter the plum trees, including Philip Von Sebold, mistook them as being native to Japan. This could also be because, though a popular motive of Chinese art, there is no special tradition of viewing their flowers nor is there the custom of regularly eating their fruit.

For the Japanese, there is another interesting significance to the plum blossom: its connection to the passing of entrance examinations! The other day, just as I was mentioning plum blossoms to a friend of mine who has been driven to distraction by her son's upcoming exams, someone's cellphone rang. It was hers. A considerate friend had sent her a photo of a plum tree in bloom as a way of saying, "I hope your son is gonna pass!"

How did the ume no hana come to have such a connection to studies and the passing of tests? Well, the answer is simple: the plum tree was a favorite of SUGAWARA NO MICHIZANE, the great Heian Period poet, scholar and calligrapher who was unjustly expelled from the capital, died in exile, and was later enshrined as the GOD TENJIN, the patron god of scholars, poets, calligraphers and students. According to legend, when Michizane was leaving the capital on the road to exile in distant Dazaifu, Kyushu, it was only his plum tree that Michizane bade farewell with this, the most famous of all his poems.

KOCHI FUKABA NIOI OKOSE YO UME NO HANA
ARUJI NASHI TOTE HARU NA WASURESO 

(If the East wind blows this way, send your fragrance to me, o plum blossoms, 
even though I am no longer there).

Legend then says that the tree came flying all the way to Kyushu  to give the forlorn aristocrat solace to the end of his days (which was not very far off).

Plum Blossoms In Tsukuba's Woods

There are almost always plum trees, sometimes hundreds, at shrines dedicated to Michizane, or TENJIN, as he is called in deified form. In this season, millions of supplicants visit these shrines to pray for exam success, and appropriately the plum blossoms are opening, filling the sacred precincts with the fragrance of HOPE.

Luckily for those of us who live in Ibaraki, Mito, our prefectural capital is the home to one of the most famous places for enjoying plum blossoms, KAIRAKUEN. The ume festival there will begin toward the end of this month.