TsukuBlog

At noon on August 15th, 1945, the Japanese people, for the first time, heard the unexpectedly high-pitched voice of the Showa Emperor (Hirohito) crackling over the radio. The God-Emperor (as he was considered at that time) announced in an archaic form of speech which few could actually understand (and which amused quite a few children back then), that the unimaginable had to be accepted, and that the struggle against the enemy (the United States and its allies) had to be abandoned with surrender. This marked the end of a long period of Empire, expansionism, militarism, and extreme nationalism which in a way can be said to have been initiated as an over-enthusiastic imitation of the great Western colonial powers which had forced Japan to open up to the world almost 100 years earlier, and which because of poor judgment and over-optimism ended in the total devastation of the country and millions dead (not to mention the suffering and humiliation brought to other Asian and Pacific peoples). As the meaning of the Emperor’s message was slowly comprehended, millions were dumbstruck or overcome by a cathartic weeping.

This day in mid-August has come to be accepted as the day of remembrance for those who perished in that war, which actually began with Japan’s incursion into Manchuria in 1931 and its brutal ten-year struggle to gain the upper-hand in China before fatefully deciding to attack the United States. August 15 has also become a day of controversy, especially because of visits to Tokyo’s Yasukuni Shrine (靖国神社, Yasukuni Jinja).

Yasukuni Shrine is where the souls of all soldiers who have died fighting for the Imperial Cause (since the struggle for the Meiji Restoration began in 1853) are enshrined as Kami (Gods). Japanese soldiers were indoctrinated to believe that if they died in battle they would live on forever at Yasukuni. Many of the last letters of soldiers and especially Kamikaze pilots to their parents end with a “Lets meet at Yasukuni!”

You might ask what the problem would be for people to visit such a shrine, as most countries have similar ceremonies commemorating their war dead. Well, the problem (especially for Japan’s Asian neighbors) is that among the millions enshrined are numerous convicted war criminals. Thus visits to the shrine by Japanese politicians arouse great anger in China and Korea (and among many Japanese). This foreign criticism then arouses the anger of Japan’s Right-Wingers (u-yoku, 右翼), who feel that Japan has bowed to hypocritical foreign pressure and has had to conceal its true self. This cycle of accusations has made Yasukuni Shrine the center point of the struggle over how the history of WWII should be perceived. It has subsequently become a symbol and rallying point for Japan’s numerous and very vocal right-wing groups.

These days there is little talk of The War in Japan, and in fact most foreign residents are surprised and disappointed to find that there is almost no political discussion of ANY SORT in this country. Topics which lead to an expression of one’s true feelings or opinions (except for which foods you like or dislike) or any controversial subjects are usually avoided. For that reason many foreigners living in Japan LONG FOR the excitement of a good debate, and of hearing some heartfelt political opinions, even those that might be SERIOUSLY DISAGREED WITH.

Spending an August 15th at Yasukuni Shrine (as I usually do) provides a sufficient dose of opinions and political stimulation to last for a long, long while. Also, for those interested in Ibaraki, there is also strong relevance, as the xenophobic Emperor worship which had Japan in its grip for decades, and now lives on in numerous fringe groups, was originally promoted by the Mito Clan (Mito is now Ibaraki’s capital) whose sponsorship of Mito Studies (Mito-Gaku,水戸学) provided the intellectual framework which eventually led to the Meiji Restoration and a whole slew of extreme slogans (the most famous being SONNO JO-I (尊王攘夷, Revere the Emperor, Expel the Barbarians!)).

Let me tell you what my day was like.

I took TX to Kita-Senju, changed to the Hibiya Line and then changed again at Kayabacho to the Tozai Line and got out at Kudanshita, which is the nearest station to the shrine. Heading to exit no. 1, I first came face to face with the reality of the day and the occasion. A group of young riot police (kidotai) in full battle-gear. I headed up the escalator and onto street level which was very hot, both temperature-wise and emotionally. The street up Kudanzaka, towards the shrine was crowded and excited. There were many activists who had set up booths on the side walk. They were handing out leaflets and asking for signatures for various petitions. It was like being at the Student Union Building of an American or European university, except for where at those institutions students tend to push liberal or left-wing causes, these activists were all decidedly leaning to the right or far right.

Mostly, this was not expressed in a personal way, and I, a foreigner, was given pamphlets (even one demanding that political rights not be granted to foreign residents in Japan!), asked for my signature (which I politely refused) and was patiently and passionately told about each particular cause (after I showed interest). One Watanabe-san provided me with painstaking details about what he was gathering signatures for. He told me how, at the end of the Battle of Okinawa, hundreds of villagers on a small island had committed suicide. After the war, survivors claimed that they were ordered to do so by the Japanese military commanders on the island, and they demanded compensation. The court ruled in favor of the islanders. Mr. Watanabe, 63 years later, was standing in the hellish heat all day long trying to get signatures to CLEAR THE NAMES OF THE OFFICERS IN CHARGE! Other groups were calling for the independence from China of various regions including Taiwan and Tibet.

Of course the police presence was enormous and you could not help but feel sorry for the young guys who were all padded and helmeted in the heat. The road which goes up the slope parallel to the shrine was lined with the loud-speaker trucks (gaisensha) of the various right-wing groups who had gathered for the occasion. As I entered the main worshipper’s path to the shrine I also started to see the Yasukuni COS-PLAY people, those who don Imperial Army costumes and paraphernalia. They sit in the shade on the side of the path, sometimes singing old war songs (gunka) to the accompaniment of a harmonica. Also, uniformed u-yoku sit in groups drinking, singing, posing and posturing, before or after having prayed before the shrine.

It is important to remember, however, that among all the tens of thousands who came to the shrine on that day, 99% were typical looking Japanese people, of all ages, who came to quietly, and as quickly as possible, pay their respects to the fallen dead. There are many elderly people who probably lost dear ones in the war. These people even come in groups, by the busload. The extremists and other fringe-elements who end up being featured in the media are a tiny but VERY NOTICEABLE minority.

As I passed through the main gate of the shrine, the line to reach the Main Hall began and those who came to worship had to stand in line for a LONG TIME, fully exposed to the sun. Nobody was complaining, but I couldn’t help but wonder why they couldn’t put up some sort of canopy for some shade.

Though tourists and journalists like to photograph the costumed, posturing right-wing cranks who line-up in front of the shrine (with the general public), the real powerful and shadowy u-yoku groups, in their very expensive suits and haircuts (or shaved heads) can be seen through the wooden grill to the right of the main hall. Within the confines of the shrine itself they are given food and are taken into the inner sanctuaries for purification and blessing before they join in singing KIMIGAYO, Japan’s national anthem. These characters seemed much more ominous to me than the riff-raff u-yoku hanging out in the front.

This inner-hall ceremony is open to anyone, including foreigners, who want to pay the fee. The most celebrated visitor this year was Tokyo’s outspoken governor Shintaro Ishihara who was greeted with cheers and flag waving. I asked bystanders by if Prime Minister Fukuda would be coming to the shrine and they disgustedly told me that he wouldn’t be coming.

As usual, I stopped to look at the monuments to the various animals who died in Japan’s various war efforts. The dog, the horse, and the pigeon. There were offerings for the animals — dog food, carrots, water, rice balls — but much fewer than previous years.

Also drawing the attention of many Japanese visitors was the monument to Radhabinod Pal, the only dissenting judge at the Tokyo War Crimes Trial.

At 2:30, about a kilometer from the shrine’s Main Hall, a demonstration by groups who oppose the Emperor system and militarism was scheduled to be held. The right-wingers who just earlier had been hanging out in the shade, were now ready to rumble. When the police blocked off the road so that their loud-speaker trucks could not pass, pandemonium broke loose. I had imagined that nearby the shrine the u-yoku would not use the blaring speakers and especially not use foul language while so many worshippers were nearby. But logical thinking is a not a strong-point of these guys. All the loudspeakers went at it at once. I HAVE NEVER HEARD SUCH A DIN (it was like 50 rock concerts at once!). Though I have always felt there was some cooperation between the police and u-yoku, I was surprised by the barrage of insults hurled at the police and riot squad, for all of Tokyo to hear. I was even more surprised to hear how many bystanders, mostly suit-wearing salary-men shouted support to the right-wingers.

As I walked over toward the demonstration there were many more Caucasian foreigners who had come to gawk and take pictures. The right-wing groups were blocked off by phalanxes of riot police, but that did not stop them from using their loudspeakers. Any overexcited u-yoku who wanted to show his dedication to the Emperor by beating up an anti-war activist was held back or tackled by the police.

The real trouble happened after the demonstration, as the left-wingers (sa-yoku) started to leave. As they got further away from the allotted demonstration site, there was less protection and some thugs were waiting to beat them up. Interestingly, none of the elderly or female protesters were attacked. The u-yoku would pick out the able-bodied men and proceed to gang up on them.

The leftists were no softies, and actually held their ground. The police of course intervened, and finally showed their bias shouting at the protesters to just go the hell home.

After spending so many hours in the heat without sitting down, I was physically exhausted and the real battling I had seen had me shaken. On the train back home I certainly had a lot to think about and had some thoughts about what I had experienced. This entry is getting much longer than I planned it to be however, so I will leave them for another time. What do you think? Please let me know.

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

See: Article on Amabiki Kannon in Alien Times

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One of my colleagues at work is responsible for collecting newspaper articles about certain topics and distributing them to the rest of the staff every day. Rather than just sending the articles along, she always includes some information about what is special about the day. I just love getting her emails and then asking my other colleagues about the meaning. It’s a great conversation starter.

Today, her email informed me that it is the day of the “February 26 Incident”. Apparently, there was an attempted coup d’etat in Japan on this day in 1936, which caused martial law to be instated (and not revoked until July 18 of that year). A number of officials were killed, including the Finance Minister. It was a tricky situation because the military did not want to fight against the insurgents (who were also members of the military).

At least, that is what Wikipedia tells me about the event. A little history tidbit for your reading pleasure today.

Today is the nineteenth anniversary of the opening of the Seikan Tunnel (青函トンネル) in 1988. This tunnel connects Aomori and Hokkaido and is the longest railway tunnel in the world (53.85 km with a 23.3 km portion under the seabed). The Channel Tunnel (50.5 km long with 39 km under the seabed) is the longest undersea tunnel.

Read more about the Seikan Tunnel and the Channel Tunnel on Wikipedia.

There is a show in Japan called something like “We Appraise Everything” (なんでも鑑定団, nandemo kanteidan) which is very similar to the “Antiques Roadshow”. The show (the Japanese one) is coming to Tsukuba on Sunday, June 24. It will be held at Shimin Hall Yatabe (in the south-western part of Tsukuba). If you have something that you want to have appraised, you will have to apply by April 23. If you want to be in the audience when they tape it, apply by May 23.

For more information, and to download the application forms, see the City Hall website.

Japanese festivals which take place in the spring or autumn are usually agriculture related. The festivals of the summer months, which take place after the rice planting has been completed and the rainy season gives way to intense heat and humidity, in particular those called Gion or Tenno Matsuri, were originally implemented in order to prevent disease and epidemics.

I have pointed out in previous articles that the chinowa kuguri (straw ring) ceremonies usually held in late June were established throughout the realm by the Japanese Court at Nara in order to help steel the populace for the health hazards of summer. In these ceremonies, to this day, anyone who wishes to can pass through a large ring made of straw or reeds which is believed to provide the necessary protection. I have also explained that the origin of this custom can be found in the story of how the mischievous God Susanoo no Mikoto advised the poor, though generous, Somin Shorai to fashion such a ring and wear it round his waist in order to be protected from an imminent epidemic.

July is the season of the Gion and Tenno Festivals (祇園祭) which now take place all over Japan and at MANY locations in Ibaraki, and Susanoo no Mikoto plays a major role. These epidemic-preventing festivals are mostly held at shrines which are now called Yasaka-Jinja, though they were all formerly called Gion-Sha (until 1868, when the Meiji government decided to separate Buddhist elements from what they deemed to be Shinto shrines). The God enshrined at these shrines is — you guessed it — the Sun Goddess Amaterasu’s brother Susanoo no Mikoto, the deity most closely connected with disease and its prevention. In Japan he is a manifestation of the Buddhist figure Gozu-Tenno (牛頭天王) or Gavagriva (in Sanskrit), who was the guardian deity of the Gion-Shoja (祇園精舎）, the Jeta Grove Monastery built for the Buddha himself in India.

These Gion Matsuris first began in Kyoto in the year 869 in order to stop an epidemic. Evidently, the court and the populace believed that the rituals were effective because the festival has been going on, with a few exceptions, for every year since.

The popularity of this festival and the belief in Gion, or Gozu Tenno (the Buddhist related manifestations of Susanoo no Mikoto), as protector from disease, spread first to Hakata (Fukuoka) and eventually throughout the archipelago. It seems as if almost every town in Ibaraki has a Gion or Tenno Festival organized by parishioners of the numerous Yasaka Shrines (八坂神社) found in the prefecture. Many of them are well worth checking out.

On Wednesday July 9th, Ichinoya Shrine, near Tsukuba University, held its Tenno Festival, which is nicknamed the Garlic Festival because of its special application of garlic to the task of disease prevention. Until about 30 years ago this was a huge event in the Tsukuba area and all schools were closed. It was not uncommon for Ibarakians to take off from work on the festival day, the 7th day of the 7th month on the lunar calendar. The main attractions were the stalls set up to sell special garlic amulets to be hung outside the entrances of homes. It used to be said that no Tenno (Gion) Festival could be held in Ibaraki, before the Ichinoya Tenno.

Now the Garlic Festival is a mere shadow of what it used to be, but the garlic stalls are still there, as well as some other types of stalls that one rarely finds anymore in Japan: medicine sellers hawking dried vipers and turtles along with other traditional elixirs.

Of course, there is also the shrine itself, protected by the largest zelkova (keyaki) trees in the prefecture, which is worthy of special note in this area. Said to have been founded in 689, Fujiwara Hidesato, the warrior sent by the court to quell the Masakado Uprising which had turned this part of Japan into a breakaway state, made an offering of his bow and arrows.The shrine was also given generous support by the Oda Clan which ruled this area for centuries.

If you hear fireworks early in the morning, it probably means that a Gion festival will be taking place on that day somewhere near you. Go find the nearest Yasaka Jinja.

If you want to check out or join in on a Gion Matsuri, I would especially recommend the festivals in Ryugasaki (with acrobatics!), Shimodate (taking the portable shrines into the river), Toride, Mitsukaido and Makabe.

It goes without saying that if you can make it you should go to Kyoto on the 17th of the month for the “Mother-of-All Gion Matsuri”, with its bizarre, tapestry-laden, disease-sucking floats called Hoko （鉾).

For MUCH more information about Gion Festivals in Tsukuba, Ibaraki and beyond, have a look at A. Takahashi’s amazingly comprehensive website.

Have a healthy summer!

You might have noticed the colorful Tanabata (七夕) decorations, young bamboo stalks with slender branches adorned with colorful strips of paper, set up at supermarkets, community centers, city-offices, schools and kindergartens around town. If you look carefully, you will also notice a box filled with blank sheets of colored paper (tanzaku), and some pens or pencils which have been placed somewhere nearby. These are there so that anyone so inclined can write down their wish (or poem) and then tie it onto the tree. These days, it is mostly little kids who enjoy doing this, but you will still see plenty of hopeful teenagers and adults writing their prayers for family health, success in exams, protection from earthquakes, finding romance, etc. Since language is no problem in the Land of Wishes, you should pick up a colored sheet yourself and feel free to write in your native tongue.

As with most other Japanese traditions, the history of Tanabata is complex, and tracing its roots can be confusing. The way it has been celebrated has also transformed DRAMATICALLY over the centuries. Matters are made even worse when you find out that different cities celebrate the festival on different dates, a month apart.

Simply put, the 7th day of the 7th month on the lunar calendar is the day the the stars Vega and Altair are closest in the night sky, and the ancient Chinese developed a romantic story based on this celestial event. Separated for a year by the heavenly river (the Milky Way) two lovers, a cowherd and a weaver-girl get a chance to meet for only one night before being separated until the same time next year. It was on this night that the women weavers and other craftswomen of the ancient Chinese court made supplications to the two stars in the hope of improving their skills. It seems logical enough that wishing on two stars would be more efficacious than wishing on one.

In 8th century Japan, everything Chinese was the rage among the aristocracy, so naturally this star festival was adopted at the Japanese court in Nara. Members of the leisured class made offerings of colorful foods and enjoyed viewing the stars to the accompaniment of koto music. On the other hand, the reading of the characters 七夕 as tanabata, came from an indigenous story about a weaver girl Tanabatatsume (棚機津女), who sat by the riverside weaving beautiful fabrics for the gods. The Tanabata Festival today is a product of the coming together of these these two currents.

The custom of writing wishes or poems on colored paper originated in China. The paper colors used today are still those favored in ancient China: blue, yellow, white, black and red. However, the other traditional paper decoration designs on the bamboo trees aa well as the famous Tanabata decorations of Sendai are based on the story of Tanabatatsume.

Another completely different aspect of the Tanabata celebration in Japan was that it marked the beginning of preparations for the O-Bon Festival and on that day it was customary to wash hair, religious implements, animals etc. in anticipation of the return of ancestral spirits.

It also became customary in Japan for boys and girls to pray for better skill in calligraphy and poetry.Many older Tsukabans,as children,would wake up early Tanabata morn and gather the dew from the tar leaves in the garden. This water would be used to make ink for that days calligraghy on the tanzaku. The day after the festival, the tanzaku (strips of paper) were cast off into rivers or the sea. These customs  remain almost only as fond memories in the minds of older generation.

In the Edo Period (1600-1868) Tanabata decorations experienced a GOLDEN AGE with townspeople trying to outdo each other in putting out the more outstanding decorations. This tradition lives on at the famous Tanabata festival in Sendai, where merchants line the shopping district with spectacular decorations.

A strange turning point in the history of Tanabata was surely the adoption of the western calendar by the Meiji Government after 1868. The seventh month is August according to the lunar calendar, but is July in the new calendar. These days the 7th day of the 7th month is NOT the time when Vega and Altair meet. This occurs in August. And more to this, the beginning of July is still the rainy season and stars can rarely be seen at all! Sounds ridiculous, but it is true. The festival is celebrated a month too early.

The great Sendai Festival, however sticks with the correct timing, as do the festivals in Yamaguchi City and Oita. For major NEW CALENDAR events (I mean in July) head for the Shonan Hiratsuka Tanabata Festival in Kanagawa.

There are many historical details which I have left out and you are probably glad for that. Just remember that if you spy a colorfully decorated tree, remember the story of the lovers. Maybe you will be inspired to jot down a poem, or a special wish.

Yahoo! Japan is featuring old Tokyo maps online (Japanese):
http://map.yahoo.co.jp/kochizu/maptop

You can switch between maps of Tokyo from the Edo era (about 180 years ago), the Meiji era (about 120 years ago), the present, and satellite photos.

If you can read Japanese, it is amazing to discover what many famous places today were in the past. And you can understand that many mansions of daimyos (feudal lords) which were located in the center of Edo city were abolished at the end of the Samurai age and their lands were redeveloped into fundamental public facilities for a modern capital city such as government office buildings, military bases, universities, hospitals, business districts, parks and so on. It is one of the reasons why Japan could reform itself to a modern nation so quickly.

If you would like to know why there were so many daimyos’ mansions in Edo city, see this wiki article.

FYI, the lot for the Tokyo campus of the University of Tsukuba, the former Tokyo Higher Normal School, was a mansion belonging to MATSUDAIRA Yorinobu who was president of a government bureaucrat training institution, and a descendant of TOKUGAWA Mitsukuni’s younger brother. Tokugawa is also known as Mito Komon.

Enjoy some time travel!

The vegetation is closing in all around you, while the shrill droning of cicadas and other insects pounds in your head. The heat-waves radiating off the ground and buildings make it seem as if the air itself were a living, throbbing organism. August is when nature in Japan is most pulsatingly alive. It is also the time when special consideration is given to the Dead. Since ancient times (records date from the 6th century) the 13th day of the 7th lunar month (our August) has been a time to light fires(lanterns these days) for the O-Bon Festival (the origin of the expression bonfire?). These were used to guide and welcome back the spirits of departed ancestors who are believed to return to their native homes for three days. These visiting souls are consoled with sutra chanting, offered food, drink and incense, and entertained by the community with Bon-Odori dancing (which is never TOO interesting so as to make sure that no spirits would want to overstay their welcome!). On the evening of the 16th, a fire is lit again as a send off, often accompanied by offerings which are cast onto a river or into the sea. It is interesting that though the dates of most Japanese traditional events have been changed due to the introduction of the Western calendar (see my article: Lunar or Solar?), most Japanese outside of Tokyo still keep the O-Bon celebration in August, now the 8th month (this could possibly be because farmers would have been too busy in July).

In addition to the festival for the Returning Spirits of the Dead (O-Bon), there are three more days in August connected with remembrance, all of them related to the war that ended sixty three summers ago.  Each national or cultural group with its own  identity utilizes whatever tools it has at its disposal to embed its own particular view of history into its members. In Japan, the powers that be have naturally used this country’s comprehensive education system, the mass media, and public holidays and monuments to effectively shape the way most people remember the war and think about themselves and others.  What has become stressed in Japan is that THIS country and its citizens suffered UNIQUELY during the war.   August 6th and 9th are reserved for ceremonies commemorating the horrors of the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki (respectively). August 15th, which by strange coincidence is also the peak day of O-Bon, is the day which marks the end of the war (another reason to have O-Bon in August) and is most famously commemorated at Yasukuni Shrine, where throngs of visitors come to pay their respects to all soldiers who died in service of the emperor.

For at least half a century, after WWII, people who grew up in the English speaking(and many other countries of the) world  would instantly think of Pearl Harbor and kamikaze pilots if JAPAN were mentioned in a word association game. That is because some countries (especially the US) use the story of their successful fight against tyranny in Japan as a way of building an effective national identity. Americans are taught of the treacherous sneak attack on sleeping Americans in Hawaii (wait, didn’t  George Washington use sneak tactics to defeat the British) and the fanatically determined foe who had no regard for human life (kamikaze pilots) which justified the dropping of the atomic bombs, which also saved countless US lives (wait, wouldn’t that mean that Vietnam,fiercely attacked without provocation, would have been perfectly justified in nuking the US, and anyway how can the incineration of 100,000 civilians and the fatal irradiation of that many more ever be JUSTIFIED). 

Like many, I grew up hearing and reading about the war. For Americans, the story of the heroic struggle against dictatorship and the eventual bringing of democracy to Japan(through its total destruction) was a point of national pride and an important part of the national consciousness. For me it is not surprising that George W. Bush,whose father fought in the Pacific,would want to carry out a similar GOOD FIGHT(in his opinion) in the Middle East, as he was raised in a generation even more full of the MYTH of the BENEVOLENT, democracy bringing effects of American military force.

 Growing up in the 70`s,before ever imagining that I would one day live in Japan, I learned of all the great battles major figures and intrigues of the war.

 Arriving in Japan to study at university  first exposed me to the fact that different countries or groups talk about the same story in very different ways.  While I knew all the major battles and many details of what the Japanese often call The Pacific War, people my age seemed to know almost  nothing at all. And since the topic hardly ever arose (except with my 85 year old friend Toshiko who lost her husband in the war), I too started to forget about it, or certainly not dwell on it.

For that reason it took me a few years to realize that Tsuchiura City and Ami Town near Arakawa-Oki Station played a major role in Japan’s Imperial history. While what is now Tsukuba City was mostly forested and very sparsely populated (because of a lack of water resources) Tsuchiura and Ami thrived as Kasumigaura was used for training the Imperial Navy’s pilots. With  huge bases (which still exist in a much diminished form having been broken up for industrial use) and thousands of soldiers, sailors, pilots and technicians. Business boomed.

Admiral Yamamoto Isoroku, the reluctant planner of the Pearl Harbor attack lived in Ami at what is now part of Ibaraki University (I found out about this because I was teaching there). The pilots who  participated in the monumentally successful attack trained on Lake Kasumigaura. Tsuchiura`s Sakura Machi entertainment areas’ restaurants were used to celebrate. For a while,Thing were real good.

Unfortunately for the Japanese armed forces the US soldiers turned out to be the REAL fanatical fighters. Remember, Japan`s great triumph and entrance into the BIG BOYS club of Imperialism was its defeat of Imperial Russia at Port Arthur in the Russo-Japanese War of 1905. After suffering early, stinging defeats, the Czar decided that it just wasn’t worth fighting anymore and to let the Japanese have what they wanted. I guess the Japanese commanders thought the same would happen with the US after heavy early losses. They could never that imagine boys from Kansas, Ohio, Vermont, etc., would leave their comfortable lives and come out to the jungles of the South Pacific and fight to the death.

By 1945, Japan was in a desperate situation. Losing battles everywhere, and more importantly, running out of equipment and resources.Japanese cities was completely exposed to American bombers who used weapons intended to cause the most possible destruction and death.  In October 1945, the Special Attack Units(tokkotai) were put into action. These were the Kamikaze pilots, boys trained for a few months and then put on a plane loaded with explosives and enough gasoline to get to their targets.

These programs were first initiated in Ami on the shores of Lake Kasumigaura at a school called YOKAREN(予科練）. There is still weapons school on the site which belongs to the Japanese Self Defense Forces and on its grounds is a museum commemorating the boys who died flying missions,especially suicide attacks.

Anyone who is interested can visit the YOKAREN memorial museum. It is free of charge and open everyday until 4:30. The soldiers at the gate (women, each time I’ve been there), are friendly and security is easy-going. Only one person in your group has to write his or her name (no id check).  The weapon school campus is sprawling and not a soul can be seen, making it a very peaceful place. You walk to the museum from the gate and pass by some old pre-war buildings and a large display of armoured vehicles which lines the path.

Inside the memorial museum are the photos, belongings and last wills and testaments of more than 1000 boys, mostly between 15 and 20 years of age, who gave their young lives trying to stop an attack on their country and protect what they were taught they had to: the Emperor.It seems most were country boys,probably from poor families,many of them local.

No matter what you think about the Special Attack Forces, you will probably have to FORCE back the tears when reading the letters these boys wrote to their parents.These show a surprising variety of content.

As there is no English here, if you cannot read Japanese well, you should bring along someone to translate.

Most Japanese people　in Tsukuba do not know about this museum, and naturally most foreign residents don’t either. Most people DO know that Ami is the site of Japan`s first ToysRus outlet(times sure have changed ). To get to the YOKAREN, drive past the big toy store and the army base until you get to the lake. Look for the entrance to the RIKUJO JI EITAI BUKI GAKKO（陸上自衛隊武器学校)

During this season of remembrance, if you have the time, maybe you should head to the shores of Lake Kasumigaura,  think about the past, war, and WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT. There are numerous places in Ibaraki which have had great national impact, but this flight school played a role on the stage of world history and left its mark on our language and culture. it is about a 20 minute drive from Tsukuba Station.

http://www.town.ami.ibaraki.jp/kankou/yokaren/yokaren.htm

By the way, the Hotel Edo-Ya near Mt Tsukuba Shrine used to host the last parties for the Kamikaze Pilots.

They still hold an annual reunion for those who survived.

When looking into the origins of various elements of Japanese culture, one often finds dual or multiple roots. Even beginning students of Japanese language must deal with these many faces when they first learn that there are two or more ways of reading kanji characters. There are even two ways of counting, the more purely Japanese way- hitotsu, futatsu, mitsu… and then the one based on the Chinese, ichi, ni, san.

It is especially interesting to keep this in mind when discussing Japan’s calendar of traditional annual events.This month’s standout special day is Children’s Day (子供の日, kodomo no hi) which has come to involve a fantastic array of festive decorations and foods. Most notably, there are the carp streamers (鯉のぼり), which can be seen proudly flapping in the wind (in this part of Japan, we are lucky to be able to see especially large and elaborate ones) or displayed at shops and shrines. Inside people’s homes, or at restaurants and hotels we can see the armor or warrior dolls (Go-gatsu ningyo) which have been put on display.

Now less commonly you can see iris (菖蒲, shobu) stems on sale for use in the bath and even more rarely in this part of Japan (though I saw it yesterday), placed on roofs, along with some mugwort (蓬,yomogi). At wagashiya (Japanese sweet shops) and convenience stores, kashiwamochi and chimaki
are on sale, as the special sweets of the season.

What does all this have to do with Children’s Day?

First let me say something about Japanese festive days in general. Certain days were recognized by the ancient Chinese as being pivotal seasonal markers. These came to be known as sekku (節句)
when adopted by the Japanese. To mark the seasonal changes, each sekku involved eating certain foods and displaying certain decorations. In those times the significance of these was usually one of keeping away bad luck or ritual protection.

The major sekku which are still widely celebrated in Japan are:

January 7: Nanakusa (seven herbs) no Sekku
March 3: Momo (peach) no Sekku
May 5: Tango no Sekku, or Shobu (iris) no Sekku
July 7: Tanabata
September 9: Kiku (chrysanthemum) no Sekku

It now being May, this month’s festive day is of course, Tango no Sekku, which is now known as the national holiday, Children’s Day. However, since this day has been recognized as being special in ancient times, there have been many meanings connected to it which have changed over the generations.

If you ask a Japanese friend about the significance of Chidren’s Day, they will explain that it is a day to celebrate boys and for families with boys to pray for their healthy growth and success. This goes in tandem with March’s Momo no Sekku which is a celebration of girls. They will also explain that carp streamers symbolize strength and perseverance.

The story of Tango no Sekku, however, is much more complicated than this and its history and the origin of its customs are now unfamiliar even to most Japanese. In ancient Japan (and still today), this is the season for planting rice. To pray for abundant crops and fertility in general and remove impurities from the village young women (早乙女, saotome) would spend a day isolated in a special women’s huts called onna no ie (女の家). This hut would be covered with irises and mugwort, which in ancient China were believed to have purifying powers (because of their strong smells).

In the Nara Period (710-794), the Japanese would decorate themselves with garlands of iris and later in the Heian Period it was common (and still is) to decorate homes with these protective plants. At this time tall poles would also be set up by rice fields to welcome the God of Fertility.

Later when Japan came under military rule, the Japanese word for iris, shobu, came to held significant for its homonym, 尚武, shobu, which means reverence for martial arts. Thus, the iris remained a mainstay of Tango no Sekku throughout the generations and many Japanese still use it in their baths on this day for driving away evil and fortifying the body. It was during the years of military rule that Tango no Sekku came to be associated with boys. One possible explanation for this can be that it had originally been a day to isolate women, and that left the boys to be celebrated!

Kashiwamochi is a pounded rice cake wrapped in the leaf of a Japanese oak. Eating this sweet in this season is an original Japanese custom and signifies the connection between generations, as these trees don’t lose their leaves until fresh leaves appear!

Eating chimaki, a conically shaped paste wrapped tightly in leaves, is a custom which originates in China. May 5th in China, is the memorial day of the great scholar Kutsugen (屈原), who was famed for his loyalty. On the 5th day of the 5th month, men would throw offerings into rivers (he drowned in one)
in his honor. At one point, many men at different locations dreamed that it would be better to wrap these offerings in purifying leaves. This became standard practice, and is now common today in Japan.

Raising carp streamers probably is a continuation of the native practice of setting up poles near the rice fields to welcome the rice god. Since Tango no Sekku came to be a day of celebrating boys, Japanese in the Edo Period (1600-1868) adopted the carp as a symbol of success. This is because of the ancient Chinese story of the carp struggling upriver and transforming into a dragon.

This custom spread throughout Japan and can especially be enjoyed in Ibaraki where farmers often display fantastic and very expensive koi nobori sets to celebrate their male offspring. For those who live in smaller abodes there are appropriately-sized streamers and even tiny origami or cloth carp.

Finally, there are the dolls and armour which are displayed. Grandparents often spend thousands of dollars on a display for their grandsons, though if you want some dolls for yourself you can get the
same exact dolls for a song at second hand shops (since many Japanese would not buy or are even afraid of used dolls!). These dolls became popular in the late Edo Period as emulating the Samurai class was all the rage for the merchants and then farmers. These dolls and armour are displayed to pray for boys success and health and can be found in a myriad of forms.

After the war, since the day had been associated with warriors, the name was changed to the more egalitarian Chidren’s Day, though girls and boys are still actually celebrated separately.

There are many other, more obscure decorations for this season, but I have written too much already, so go search them out for yourselves.

Happy Children’s Day!

Man’s largest television set was unveiled in the Japanese city of Tsukuba and measured 24.3m by 45.7m [ 80ft by 150ft ]. It was used in the 1985 Japanese International Exposition and displayed a series of specially created films containing varied artistic and cultural creations.

Read the full article: 10 amazing facts you might not know about television

Is that television still the reigning champion for the largest TV set?

If you are looking for articles about Tsukuba that have appeared in newspapers in the past few years, look no further than Tsukuba Public Library. Library volunteers have created an archive of Tsukuba-related posts taken from five national papers and three local papers dating back to August 1994. If you are working on a history project about Tsukuba, this archive will be a treasure trove of information. (Of course, all of the articles are in Japanese, but perhaps a kind Japanese friend could help you find what you are looking for if you cannot read them yourself.) Ask at the reference desk for details.

Did you feel the freezing cold wind last night? I think that was a good example of Tsukuba Oroshi (筑波颪), a cold, dry wind that blows in from the north/northwest.

There is disagreement about the meaning of “Tsukuba Oroshi”. Some people think that the name comes from the fact that the wind blows down (吹き下ろしてくる = fuki oroshite kuru) from the top of Mt. Tsukuba. The kanji for “oroshi” consists of the character for “down” (下) sitting on top of the character for “wind” (風). This seems to lend weight to this argument. However, others suggest that oroshi simply means a kind of local wind pattern.

From the bit of research that I did (mainly poking around a few websites), it seems that the word oroshi does usually mean a wind that blows from the top of a mountain, but that the mountain has to be between 1000m and 1500m for this phenomenon to occur. Mt. Fuji, therefore, at over 3000m in height, is too tall to cause an oroshi. Furthermore, Mt. Tsukuba, at 876m, is too short.

So, Tsukuba Oroshi, it seems, is just a local wind pattern that happened to be named after the largest mountain in the area. This is also the case for Haruna Oroshi, which is a wind pattern that was named after Mt. Haruna in Gunma Prefecture.

Regardless of the details of the naming of this wind, Tsukuba’s winters are made extra cold by the existence of Tsukuba Oroshi, so remember to dress warmly, and be sure to have some wind-proof clothes on hand, especially if your main form of transportation involves a bicycle or your own feet.

By the way, it has been said that local farmers planted forests consisting mainly of keyaki (zelcova) trees on their property to protect their homes from the Tsukuba Oroshi. The keyaki tree is now the official tree of Tsukuba. (But the question remains, is Tsukuba Oroshi the official wind of Tsukuba?)

More info (in Japanese):
http://www.sonpo.or.jp/protection/disaster/typhoon/0013.html
http://www.uchihashi.jp/masaya/wind/rokko_oroshi.htm

Tsukuba City Hall has published a 144-page document with various statistics related to the city. The document is only available in Japanese, but it is a treasure trove of information about the city.

For example, there is a diagram on page 15 (of the pdf file, page 5 of the paper document) that outlines the history of merges that created the city. I knew that Tsukuba was created out of Toyosato Town, Oho Town, Sakura Village, Yatabe Town, Tsukuba Town, and Kukizaki Town, but I did not know that Toyosato was originally Kamigo Town, which itself was originally Kamigo Village.

Page 25 (page 15 of the paper document) lists statistics on the weather from 1998 to 2007, including annual average temperatures, annual high and low temperatures, annual average humidity, annual average wind speed, annual precipitation, and hours of sunlight. It also lists the monthly amounts of the above variables for 2007.

Page 26 (16), says that the area of Tsukuba is 284 km2 with a population of 206,661 (as of October 1, 2007). The population density is 727.5 people per square kilometer. The average household had 2.5 people. There were 5.7 births per day and 3.5 deaths per day. 37.2 people moved into the city per day, and 30.3 people moved out of the city per day. 3.6 couples got married per day and 1.0 couples got divorced per day. As of October 1, 2007, there were 7154 foreigners living in the city, representing 127 countries.

Page 27 (17):
4388 books borrowed from the library per day
1452 people used community centers per day
1.5 cars per household
19 ambulances sent out per day
0.3 fires per day
4.1 traffic accidents per day
207.5 tonnes of garbage produced per day
177,910 yen of municipal tax paid per person
108.3 city hall staff members per person in Tsukuba (1878 staff members in total)

Page 28 (18) has a chart that puts Tsukuba in perspective in Ibaraki.
4th in Ibaraki for size, but 1st for residential land
2nd in Ibaraki for population
14th for population density
7th for youth population
2nd for working-age population
43rd for senior age population
6th for births
51st for deaths
4th for incomes (3.7 million per person)
21st for number of hospitals per person
3rd for number of medical clinics per person
1st for number of doctors per person
10th for number of nurses per person
4th for number of traffic accidents per person
4th for number of traffic fatalities per person

Page 31 (19): Population
More men than women
Drop in population every March, influx every April
More people in the city in the daytime than the night
Page 48 (36) has a breakdown of the foreign population

Page 51 (38): Industry

Page 72 (57): Land

Page 79 (60): Residential

Page 85 (63): Parks

Page 89 (65): Water and Sewage

Page 93 (67): Security
1489 traffic accidents in 2007, 15 fatalities, 1955 injuries, 6505 instances of damage to property

Page 99 (71): Environment and Sanitation

Page 105 (74): Consumption

Page 108 (76): Welfare and Social Services

Page 116 (81): Education

Page 122 (85): Elections

Page 126 (86): Finance

Page 134 (91): City Hall Employees

Tsukuba City Hall recently upgraded its Japanese website and has made it a bit easier to navigate. They have also added some new pages about the history of the Tsukuba area. One of the new pages gives some possible explanations for the name “Tsukuba”.

According to the Hitachi no Kuni Fudoki (常陸国風土記, a kind of almanac for the Hitachi area — present day Ibaraki) which was written in the Nara Period (710 to 794 AD), Tsukuba (筑波) was originally called “Ki no Kuni” (紀の国). The first administrator of the Tsukuba area, an emissary from the Yamato court, was called Tsukuhako no Mikoto (ツクハコの命). During the reign of Emperor Sujin (崇神天皇, third or fourth century), Tsukuhako no Mikoto decided to change the name of Ki no Kuni to “Tsukuha no Kuni” so that his name could be remembered by future generations. Over the years, Tsukuha became Tsukuba.

Another story, this one from a book written by a Mt. Tsukuba monk in the Edo era (1603 to 1868 AD), says that during the reign of Emperor Jimmu (神武天皇, legendary Emperor of Japan, 660-585 BC), the Eastern Sea swelled and threaten to inundate the country. However, Mt. Tsukuba was very tall and it stopped the wave (波), therefore protecting the parts to the west of the mountain from flooding. From this, the name Tsukuba (築波, meaning built-up wave) was given to the mountain.

Finally, the word “chiku” (筑, also pronounced “tsuku”) refers to an instrument that is similar to the koto. Amaterasu (天照大神), the sun goddess born of Izanagi and Izanami, was playing the chiku to comfort her parents. Doing this cause a wave (波) from the Kashima Sea to reach (着く, pronounced “tsuku”) the peak of Mt. Tsukuba, so the mountain was then called Tsukuba (着波, or reach-wave). Another explanation was that the sound of the chiku (筑) brought the wave (波), so the mountain was named Tsukuba (筑波).

(This information comes from a book called “Tsukuba no Mukashi Banashi” which is published by Tsukuba Shorin and available to be purchased through Ibaraki Zusho. If you are interested in purchasing the book, please see the Tsukuba Mukashi Banashi page on the City Hall website.)

There are many possible explanations and we may never know for sure why this area was given the name Tsukuba, but these historical accounts make for interesting reading (and good history lessons).

If you want to practice your Japanese while reading about Tsukuba, click on “♪音声で聞く” (written in red at the top of the page) on the City Hall page to hear someone read the explanation in Japanese.