Mysterious (and Creepy) Roadside Markers Explained
When wandering the backroads of Tsukuba you might encounter a set of what appear to be SIGNS OF WARNING or NO ENTRY. Three primitive stick figures drawn on wooden boards and mounted on sticks, usually posted on each side of the opening to a small road or path. I have never seen these goose-bump-eliciting road-markers anywhere else in Japan, and have STILL NOT been able to find any references to them in Japanese or foreign language sources. Most Japanese I have asked have told me that they had NO IDEA what these were, and several times Japanese friends joining me for a stroll have said "LETS GET OUT OF HERE QUICKLY! THOSE SIGNS GIVE ME THE CREEPS" after coming upon them on a secluded road.
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.
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A Fine day For Fire-Walking at Mt Kabasan (加波山) !
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.
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A Look from Behind: The Yakushi-Ji Treasures In Ueno
Putting oneself through physical and/or mental hardship as a way of achieving spiritual growth has long been connected with Buddhism in Japan. That was why, when I arrived at the National Museum in Ueno on a sweltering spring morning, I did not find it inappropriate to have to wait outside in the sun for 90 minutes to get into the current exhibition -- The Treasures of Yakushi-Ji Temple. Of course, upon first catching site of the impossibly long line, a winding python made up of thousands of senior citizens, I thought about heading for less crowded quarters. But I had had my heart strongly set on seeing this exhibition before it closed on June 8th, and anyway, I had certainly been made to wait even longer, at this very museum , many times before. It had almost always been worth it.
I imagined that most of the Buddhist art enthusiasts patiently waiting in line with me had already been to Nara and visited Yakushiji. I also came to the realization that if I had gotten on the shinkansen it would not take very much longer to reach the temple itself than it would to finally reach the entrance of the museum (though it would have been a BIT more expensive).
What the large crowds had been gathering for, every day for weeks already, was a look from behind. A look at the back-sides of 3 great Buddhist images whose backs are usually covered by ornate, body length, gilded halos or aureoles (光背, kohai). For this exhibition, these figures, most famously the bronze Bodhisatvas Nikko and Gakko, were separated from their back-stand halos allowing their elegantly molded posteriors to be gazed upon by anyone with a ticket and tough enough to endure the lines.
In addition to this rare chance to peek BEHIND the scenes, the exhibition featured treasures which have never been displayed all at once.These are usually kept in Yakushi-Ji`s treasure house and are
exhibited as individual pieces or sets at various times around the year.
Centuries of being imbued with the samurai virtues of patience and perseverence has clearly had a huge impact.Not a complaint could be heard from the sun-exposed crowd.Each visitor seemed to be in a heat induced daze by the time they reached the air-conditioned exhibition hall .
Then things really got difficult. All the pent up energy and bridled excitement seemed to burst forth in my elderly fellow museum-goers and it took strength and cunning to jockey myself into a position in which I could see any of the works on display.
This might sound like a nightmare, or a Buddhist version of hell, but in fact it was fascinating and highly rewarding in many ways. For me observing the visitors and overhearing their comments was what probably sticks in my mind most. Since this was an exhibition of Buddhist works, and not just ART, it seemed to me that most of the visitors were trying their best to have a spiritual experience. Their GAZE was special, like that reserved for cherry blossom viewing or funerals. A typical exclamation that I heard among the crowds viewing the 3 meter tall bronze Boddhisatvas was: They really DO make me feel calm. (yappari miru to iyashi ni naru).
In terms of the works on display themselves, I was more impressed (in terms of beauty) by the three small figures (39cm) of the Hachiman Triad. I prefered them because they are carved from wood, and I have always felt that the Japanese sculptors often showed great genius when working in that medium. When such skillfully carved wooden pieces are aged more than a thousand years, the effect is mysterious and mesmerizing.
It is also of interest to note how Shinto Gods were early adopted into Buddhism, with Hachiman (the deified emperor Ojin) having early on become a protector of the new, imported faith.These figures are some of the earliest,if not THE earliest examples of Shinto sculpture(before Buddhism took hold the Gods had not been
represented as graven images). I can go ON and ON about each piece I saw. By why should you waste your time reading when you still have a few more days to see and experience for yourself.Or check the exhibition web-site.
I left the museum and its bookstore with heavy feet and even heavier bag, and a light head and even lighter wallet.However, I really did feel serene(exhaustion?) sitting on TX reviewing what I had just seen in the excellent catalogue of the show.
Don't let the lines deter you(bring some good books along). I guess that in the west we also have the notion of growth through hardship: you know NO PAIN, NO GAIN.
The exhibition will be on until June 8 at the National Museum in Ueno.
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Amabiki Kannon
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
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Annual Memorial Service (Ireisai) For Animals Sacrificed At Medical School
The tremendous advances made in the medical sciences over the past few centuries have been simply astounding. Much of this progress can be attributed to the efforts of diligent, talented, and sometimes just-plain-lucky researchers who set about looking for solutions to medical questions by applying the scientific method -- which depends heavily on observing the results of controlled experiments to prove hypotheses.
Animals, in their forced role as experimental subjects, have played a crucial part in this March Forward, as many important medical studies from the times of Pasteur and Pavlov to the present day, have been made with the use of test animals. Every year at least tens of millions of vertebrates (and so many more invertebrates) are used around the world in tests which end with these creatures being SACRIFICED.
At Tsukuba University Medical School, as well as at other research institutes in Japan, the role that animals play in scientific progress, and the suffering often involved in their making a CONTRIBUTION to humanity (and sometimes to their fellow animals as well) does not go unrecognized or unacknowledged (for whatever that is worth) .
Once a year, usually in the first week of November (when the climate is most comfortable), an announcement is made throughout the medical school complex, that a special memorial service (ireisai, 慰霊祭) will be held at the IREIHI (慰霊碑), a memorial tablet which is tucked away in the shadows of the small woods, just east of the hospital's power plant. The IREIHI itself was made 20 years ago by a student of the university and the inscription on it reads "JIKEN DOBUTSU IREIHI", or "monument for consoling the spirits of experimental animals".
On the day the ceremony is announced, hundreds of doctors, researchers, administrators, office staff and representatives of the companies which supply the animals attend, many bringing flowers, or foods which the animals might like. Since Tsukuba University is a government institution which must abide by rules separating church and state, incense, which would usually be offered on such an occasion, is not used, because of its overtly religious (Buddhist) connotations. Usually, a distinguished researcher or administrator makes a short speech about the number of animals sacrificed and the need to reduce this number and alleviate suffering. Those assembled then close their eyes for a moment of silence. I am told that many of those who attend this ceremony feel a sense of satisfaction or solace in having shown their respect and gratitude to the sacrificed lab animals.
Some laboratories in Tsukuba affiliated with private companies hold more elaborate and overtly religious IREISAI. For several reasons, I, myself, do not like the idea of using animals for experiments (when it is not absolutely necessary to do so). But since millions of creatures ARE being used (and abused) in the name of science, I think it is a good thing to give them a little (even if it's only on one day) RESPECT.
Thanks to Dr. Sugiyama, director of Tsukuba University's Center for Experimental Animals for giving me his time and for showing me his dedication to providing the best conditions possible for the animals under his care. Still I get the willies every time I pass his building. If anyone would like to attend the ceremony please let me know and I will inform you about it (on the day it is held).
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