TsukuBlog

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.

More than 400 years ago, during Japan’s so-called Warring States Period (Sengoku Jidai), a wooden fortress known as Hanamuro-Jo, stood a few hundred meters northeast of what is now the Hanamuro Intersection (kosaten), not far from Tsukuba Center. No one is certain exactly how many years this fortification stood, as there are no extant records bearing this information, however, there is documentation of Hanamuro-Jo still having still existed in 1569, as battles raged for control of this region. Even if it did actually survive the fighting of those years, it still would not have lasted long into the Edo Period (1600-1867), during which a unified Japan was consolidated under the Tokugawa Family. This is because the One Domain-One Castle Law (Ikkoku Ichijo Rei , 一国一城令) of 1615, permitted only one fortification to survive in each HAN (domain). The castle selected to be given a lease on life in this area was the Turtle Castle (Kijo , 亀城 ) of the Tsuchiya Clan, in Tsuchiura (Tsukuba was NOT as many believe, part of the Mito Domain), while any other fortifications that still existed had to be completely dismantled.

No matter when or how Hanamuro-Jo met its fate, one thing is for sure — it has disappeared with hardly a trace. The hill upon which it once stood is covered by woods, with only a corroded, barely legible, old sign left to remind the rare person to wander by of what was once there.

A bit to the West however, past the traffic light near the Hanamasa Grocery Store, lies a grassy knoll, where memories of Hanamuro Castle are kept alive. On top of this little green island of a mound sits a small shrine which houses a large unengraved, stone slab, along with many smaller stones and pebbles. Offerings of sake, rice-cakes ,etc., and numerous strands of SENBA TSURU (one thousand cranes) can always be found placed in front of or inside the wooden structure, as worshipers come to beseech and give thanks to the MIGAWARI AMIDA (the Scapegoat Amida), who has resided on this little hill since the days of Hanamuro-Jo.

Amida is the Buddha of Infinite Light, who rules the Pure Land, and is one of the most popular figures in Japanese Buddhism, and the central figure of the JODO and JODO SHIN Sects. His name is invoked by believers who seek his aid, or wish to enter his Western Paradise.

Migawari (身替り) can be directly translated as a surrogate, or taking the place of or standing in for another. I have translated this as SCAPEGOAT, since the devotees of this deity which resides near the ruins of Hanamuro Castle, believe that their pain, injuries, or other forms of suffering are transferred away from them and taken on by the stone on the hill, just as the sins of the ancient Israelites were cast away into a goat.

There are many stories extolling the powers of the stone. The most dramatic I have heard were years ago from old Mr. Ohtsu, a descendant of the family which kept the Hanamuro Castle as Vassals of Lord Oda. He recounted how he had accidentally fallen into a fire he had going (the same fires which still foul our Tsukuba air) and miraculously emerged completely unscathed. He later noticed that the stone slab had turned completely black. In disbelief, he went to call his family and neighbors. Everyone was amazed. The newspapers were called and some ran the story.

Mr. Ohtsu’s wife tells of a similar experience. She knocked over a kerosene stove. To her great relief, no fire broke out. Chills went down her spine when she later found that the stone had once again turned black. Her husband actually took some pictures of the blackened stone and you can see what looks clearly like a hand print in them . A few hours later, they say, the black faded away.

The Migawari Amida is also renowned throughout the prefecture for helping get rid of ODEKI, which are tumors or pusy fistules. These days it is also believed to be efficacious for traffic safety. Devotees take a pebble from the shrine and keep it for one year before returning it.

There is an interesting legend related to the origin of this allegedly MIRACLE WORKING STONE. In the days when Hanamuro-Jo still stood, one the Lords of the Castle, Ohstu Nagato no Kami, was burning up with a high fever. His vassals were in a panic, and prayed fervently for the intersession of the Gods and Buddhas. Delirious, the Lord had a dream. A voice called to him. “I am the God which protects your family. I will take on all that ails you. Tomorrow, go to the well where the horses are washed on the drilling ground”. When he revealed his dream to his retainers the next day, they rushed to the well.
When they peered down into it, they saw something glittering brightly below. They pulled out the stone, and enshrined it on the hill.

Behind the shrine is an old tree, a descendant of a tree which stood by the shrine before the Tokugawa Period. This tree is considered an Important Natural Heritage by Ibaraki Prefecture.

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.

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

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).

Free Charity Gospel Concert at Nova Hall

On June 30 at 6:30 pm gather at Nova Hall for an unforgettable Gospel Concert featuring a combined choir of over 200 members made up over 21 groups from across the Kanto/Tohoku regions, as well as more than a dozen musicians and top-level soloists from California. Entrance is free but any donations made will be given to the PAL Foundation, supporting sick and needy families in the Philippines.　For information (Japanese only） see www.tsukubagrace.org or contact Paul Sadler at info[AT]tsukubagrace.org.

Two-hour Gospel Workshops Offered in Tsukuba, Tsuchiura and Ushiku

Gospel artists, Ray Sydney and Gregory Hooper will be offering a series of workshops starting June 16 (3 pm – 5 pm) at Ushiku’s Midorino Chapel; Saturday June 23 (10 am – 12 pm) at Ninomiya Community Center; June 23 (2-4 pm) Tsuchiura Kijo Plaza; and Wednesday June 27 (10 am – 12 pm) at Azuma’s ARS Hall. The cost of the workshops is 1500 yen and for an additional fee, participants can perform the two songs learned in the workshop in the Nova Hall concert as part of a special workshop choir. For information (Japanese only） see www.tsukubagrace.org or contact Paul Sadler at info[AT]tsukubagrace.org.

It was the 27th, and July is an odd numbered month (the 7th), so I knew where I could find Mrs. Okamino. I built up the determination to step out of my house and into the throbbing heat. With notebook and pen in hand and a squint on my face, I slowly walked around the corner and headed towards the Sakura City Office. About a hundred meters later, I came to an old wooden structure covered with an out-of-place red tin roof. When I saw that the doors and shutters were open and the cushions were airing out in the sun I felt reassured. And, just like clockwork, there she was, broom in hand, vigorously sweeping the grounds of this old neighborhood meeting hall where women regularly gather gather to pray for health, fertility, and easy delivery.

Tsukuba has been changing rapidly with plenty of new buildings and a large influx of out-of-towners. Stiil, with all the dramatic changes, the city can be seen as being a collection of villages which retain their own identities. The community spirit can most easily be recognized by outside observers in the village Matsuri (festivals). If you look more carefully, however, you will find other signs of what life was like before this area was turned into The Science City.

One interesting feature of the village (shuraku or buraku) is the meeting hall (shukaijo). Now many of these have been rebuilt as what look like prefabricated sheds. However, you can still find several meeting halls that are used for KO (講）which are traditional wooden structures which could be mistaken for a small shrine or temple. Ko are prayer or study meetings which became popular in this region in the Edo Period (1600-1868). There are a confusing variety of ko, and I have described the most popular one, The Ko of the 19th (ju ku ya ko,十九夜講) in an Alien Times article.

Mrs. Okamino was concentrating deeply on her sweeping and did not notice my approach. I almost felt bad that I was going to disturb her, but I was determined to talk to her about that night’s Fudo-Ko and to get some pictures of the inside of the Fudo Hall, especially of the fearsome statue of Fudo-Myoo,whom the women respectfully refer to as Fudo-Sama,which I had only ever had a peek at  through the grating of at the front of the hall. 

For many generations, a Fudo-Ko (women’s prayer meeting in front of the image of Fudo Myoo) has been held at this worship hall in Higashioka. It had always been held once a month, on the 27th, but now with it getting harder and harder to get the neighborhood women together (only eight regularly gather now), the frequency has been reduced to one meeting every other month.

The women take turns being toban, the person in charge of preparing food and tea, and they get together at about 8 pm, chanting the Dainichi Kyo Sutra which they all know by heart. This is done before an impressive wooden image of Fudo Myoo (不働明王), one of the 5 Deva Kings to have been introduced to Japan in the 9th century by the great Buddhist priest Kukai in the 9th century. For some reason, Fudo, the Unmoveable One, became the most popular of these frightening figures, and a cult of Fudo spread throughout the islands, with special success in the Kanto Area, where he was worshiped by both warriors and peasants alike.The most famous place known for its worship of Fudo is Narita-San Temple(Shinsho-Ji),one of the most visited in all of Japan This popularity is interesting because in India and China it is RARE to find an image of Fudo alone (one that is not part of the group of all five myoo). I have not yey been able to determine just why this particular figure was so attractive for the Japanese.

The Fudo image at the Higashioka worship hall is impressive indeed with his sword and rope and halo of flames. What a contrast to the serene Niorin Kannon image worshipped at the Ju ku ya ko(19th night Ko). This difference in countenance,however, does not indicate a difference in objective, as the Fudo Myoo uses his fiercely determined expression to bring people to an understanding of Buddhism. He is believed to bring good health and easy delivery,prevent disaster and even bring monetary success.

Certainly, sitting in the old hall, smelling of ancient tatami mats, with Fudo glaring down as the rhythmic chanting pounds in their ears, could not help but make worshipers reflect on their ways and consider taking the correct, middle path .

Of the dozen or so Ko regularly practiced in this area before WW2, only about 4 are still actively being kept alive. Just acroos the Hanamuro River in Saiki, there is another very interesting Fudo Hall which I will discuss in a future posting.

There is no listing of these events online or in any printed form. The best way to get information about a Ko near you is to speak to the older people in your neighborhood. They will be very glad to hear that you are interested.

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!

We received a request to post the following information.

Jeff Nelson Worship Concert at Tsuchiura Megumi Church
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Doors open: 5:30 pm
Concert begins: 6:00 pm

489-1 Kami Takatsu, Tsuchiura-shi, Ibaraki-ken 300-0811, Japan
Tel: 029-822-2244
http://church-tmc.jp/

A bit about Jeff Nelson:
In 1987, Jeff recorded his first album in Nashville and learned a lot about the recording process from his producer and friend, Bryan Lenox. Back in Houston, Jeff started to arrange music tracks for other artists and help them record their projects. Now, Jeff has a recording studio in his home in Franklin, TN, and he continues to help artists record their songs and develop their talents.

A former director, professor and head of “Information Technology” of the Federal Institute of Physics and Technology (Physikalisch-Technische Bundesanstalt Braunschweig, ‘PTB’), Germany are currently in Japan, giving talks on “science and faith.”

When:
June 7, Saturday from 13:00 to 15:00

Venue:
Tsukuba International Congress Center (Epochal Tsukuba)
Conference Room 202B

Language:
English (will be simultaneously interpreted into Japanese)

Contacts:
General inquiries in English, German or in Japanese, contact:
Juergen Boeck - juergenboeck[at]gmx.net

About his lecture in Tsukuba, contact:
Wayne Meyer 029-857-7155 or 090-9833-9920
Tomotaka Makino at Tsukuba Christian Church 029-851-7747 or 029-851-3722

If you want to learn more about Prof. Dr. Werner Gitt, or if you can’t make it to the Tsukuba lecture and are interested in attending his other lecture(s), please visit Prof.Dr.Werner Gitt Japan Lectures Blog (Japanese and English):
http://profgittpub.cocolog-nifty.com/blog/

When I spotted the small vermillion torii (gate) up ahead by the side of the mountain road,  I tried to catch a glimpse of the shrine or sacred stone behind it as the car I was in rolled by. Curiously, there seemed to be nothing.  I was more surprised when we soon drove by another little torii which seemed to lead to nowhere as well. We then passed another.

Toriis are the symbol of Japan’s native religion, now referred to as Shinto. They are the easily recognizable entranceways to shrines, gates which are always open, leading into or demarkating the presence of sacred space. Sometimes small torii are placed in front of objects considered sacred: an ancient tree, a mysterious mountain, an unusual stone.

What were these toriis doing by the roadside if they did not indicate the presence of a shrine or sacred object? This question led us to stopping the car and getting out for a closer look. Writing on the back of the unusually thin gate told us that what we had found were GOMI YOKE TORII, or garbage preventing torii, set up by the owner of the roadside forest to discourage littering! These most familiar signs of the sacred, along with  Jizo statues(popular Buddhist images), are becoming more and more frequently used to discourage littering and public urination.

Though most Japanese you talk to will probably deny that they are religious, in actuallity most seem to still have respect for (or more likely fear of !)  the Gods and Buddhas. When rolling down the car window to chuck out an empy can or wrapper , the sight of a torii or jizo would almost surely make the typical Japanese hold on to their trash. Few would want to risk the wrath of retribution (in Japanese, BACHI GA ATARU) and for most Japanese it is just plain common sense not to pollute  a shrine or a temple. On the internet I have found several discussions of why toriis and Jizo are used  (effectively) in this way. The usual responses are: “Are you a Japanese? If you are Japanese you surely understand why people wouldn’t litter around a torii!”

It is also possible to buy stencil sheets for painting small torii gates on walls or the sides of buildings. These are usually effective in keeping these structures urine free.

Check out this ad for GOMI YOKE TORII.

I have made lots of calls to determine who exactly pays for and sets up these litter-stoppers. I have found out that it is case by case. Private landowners, local and prefectural governments and NPOs are all ordering them. In Tsukuba, The Gomi No Kai (garbage society)  pays for and sets up Jizos with the aim of preventing littering (if you check, the sponsor’s name is usually indicated  on the back).  At one location where the Gomi No Kai had set up a jizo I found that though the area near the Jizo was certainly clean, the situation was very different JUST ACROSS THE STREET. It seems that we need a few MORE toriis and Jizos!

Stone monuments glorifying post-Meiji Restoration (1868) Japan’s war dead were a central feature of Japanese living spaces, having been prominently displayed for maximum exposure, whether in the Capital or in the smallest hamlets. This was a part of the government’s desire to instill in the People a sense of religious reverence for those who died fighting for the emperor.

After WWII, however, the Occupation Authorities, in an effort to swing Japan into a new non-militaristic direction (except of course, if it meant fighting communists!), had these monuments destroyed or moved out of plain sight (for the less provocative memorial slabs). 

While exploring the backroads of Tsukuba, you will find that each BURAKU or traditional village has its own cenotaphs, large stone slabs with the names of local war dead engraved on them, hidden away in the shadows. Sometimes they are out in the open, but then, they are usually well off the beaten track.

I have recently written about General Maresuke Nogi, who led the Japanese army to victory in the Russo-Japanese War of 1905. This great triumph came at a heavy price: up to 80,000 Japanese dead (not to mention tens of thousands of Russian casualties). The General, who lost his only 2 sons in the war, was ordered not to kill himself in repentance, as he wanted to, since he had been carrying out the will of the emperor.

One way that Nogi tried to atone for the immense loss of life he had helped bring about was the erecting of monuments across the country (and abroad as well) at which the spirits of those fallen could be consoled.

Near the Sakura City Office, in Higashi-Oka, is a shrine-like structure which is a Fudo Worship Hall. About 20 meters south of this building, hidden from view by the shadows cast by surrounding trees, there is another, much smaller, shrine-like structure, which is usually locked. I had often tried to peek through the cracks, but it was always too dark to make out what was being sheltered inside.

One day, as I walked past, I saw the door to the structure open. An elderly woman was sweeping nearby. It turned out that she was the mother-in-law of my acquaintance Mrs Okamino (who was in charge of the Fudo-Ko Ceremony I have written about). 

I finally found out what was inside. A small shrine housing the spirit of Lt. Colonel Okamino, the old woman’s grandfather! He was among the dead of 1905. She then pointed out, further into the shadows, a large stone monument to the local men who fell in the Russo-Japanese War.

When it was announced that the Meiji Emperor had fallen ill on July 20th 1912, all Japan was thrown into a state of deep concern and restraint. By that I mean that all festivities were called off, out of respect for the Emperor’s condition. Many refrained from any entertainment or pleasures. Some even abstained from taking alcohol or meat. When the sovereign died on July 29th, this somber mood turned into one of disbelief, deep grief and even hysteria (the house of the doctor treating His Majesty was attacked).

Bloodied Cloth

It took more than a month for the actual funeral to get underway (because of the elaborate preparations and also to give foreign dignitaries time to arrive). The grave itself was not to be in Tokyo but in Fushimi, Kyoto. As temple bells tolled throughout the country to mark the start of the funeral procession which would take the Emperor’s remains out of the capital, General Maresuke Nogi, one of the great figures of the Meiji Period, and his wife Shizuko, committed ritual suicide. First, the General assisted his wife in stabbing her neck, and he then proceeded to cut open his belly with three slashes. 

This dramatic display of loyalty, deeply impressed the nation (and the world) at that time. The incident has been used in scenes of several of Japan’s greatest novels (including A River With No Bridge, recently reviewed in Tsukublog). The Nogi’s simple wooden residence was left as a memorial to the couple, and eventually their spirits were enshrined as Kami. A shrine, Nogi Jinja, was subsequently constructed just downhill of the old house.

Yes. In Japan, MERE MORTALS can be enshrined and turned into Gods. Over the centuries, most of those deified were great national heroes, though some were feared enemies whose spirits had to be appeased and placated (like our local rebel leader Taira no Masakado, enshrined at Kanda Myojin). Of course, General Nogi and his wife are to be classified in the former category. The General had played a major role in Japan’s rise from hermit kingdom to regional superpower with his greatest claim to fame being the capture of Port Arthur in the Russo-Japanese war. This led to international superstardom. When Nogi toured European countries in 1911, he was given spirited welcomes wherever he went. I have heard that in Turkey as well as Romania, the crowds went wild.

Though General Nogi’s SEPPUKU (ritual suicide) is often seen as the ultimate act of JUNSHI (loyalty) in that he followed his master to the grave, when we look at his story in more detail, we can see the General in a different, and I think more interesting light.

General Nogi’s military successes, and in fact his career in general, were marred by severe dark spots. Early on, in the battles between the new Imperial forces and the old Shogunate (1877), Nogi lost his regimental flag, a great disgrace which always hung over him. And even his moment of greatest triumph, the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-5 is greatly marred by the fact that Japan lost 60,000 troops just to take Port-Arthur. The Nogi’s two sons (their only children) were among the dead. This astounding loss of life was a great weight on Nogi’s conscience and apparently he dreaded returning to Japan to all the pomp and celebration waiting for him.

After having gone through the motions of the victory parade, the General presented himself to the Emperor and proceeded to break down crying. He asked for permission to commit ritual suicide. The Emperor refused with these famous words. CHIN GA IKITERU UCHI WA SHINU KOTO WA NARANU ZO. In other words, YOU HAVE NO PERMISSION TO DIE WHILE I’M STILL ALIVE.

Since the General had lost his children, the Emperor decided to give him a whole slew of surrogate kids by making him director of the GAKUSHUIN school for the children of the Imperial family and nobility. Nogi spent the next five years instilling the samurai virtues of patience, perseverance and modesty into his wards. The future Showa Emperor (Hirohito) was among those in his care.

When the Meiji Emperor died, Nogi went ahead and did what he had long felt he had to do: atone for all the death and devastion he had caused, and take responsibility for the serious mistakes he had made in the past.

The Nogi Shrine and the old Nogi Residence are located just past the new Tokyo Mid-Town Complex, a few minutes’ walk from Roppongi Station. The ever-encroaching brand name luxury and decadence must surely have the General wincing in his grave. The Shrine can be visited any day, and if you go, you are likely to see a traditional wedding. The shrine office sells small gourds, the type in which the General used to keep his Sake stash in (they also sell his favorite sake, from Tochigi, which is where he had long been stationed).

Of interest is also a dogwood tree planted by none other than Gen. Douglas MacArthur, who was apparently an admirer of Nogi. Some actually believe that American bombers purposely spared the shrine (could this be true?), under orders from the very top.

Every year on September 12 and 13th (the anniversary of the couple’s suicide), the old house is opened to the public. I went again this year (on the 12th) and wandered about, looking at all the clothes and accessories laid out on display and trying to conjure up images of the old couple as they prepared for their end. The house itself is a spartan, wooden structure based on French military barracks Nogi had seen while in Europe. Across from the house are the brick stables where the white horse, presented to the General by his Russian counterpart,Stessel, after his victory at Port Arthur, was housed.

A steady stream of visitors was cheerfully greeted by the staff. Most of them lingered longest in front of the room where the couple died, which is marked off with bits of sacred paper. Among the medals and uniforms laid out are a bit of cloth, bloodied from the ritual suicide.

Looking at the old clocks and telephones put me in a contemplative mood. But the bath and various toilets really brought images of the old couple back before my eyes.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not a glorifier of SEPPUKU or ANYTHING military, for that matter. I do however, think that a visit to the old Nogi residence and shrine is important food for  thought regarding both Japan’s past and its present. I also have to say that the General DOES set a good example. I think that ALL people of power, who benefit from sending soldiers off to kill and be killed, or likewise profit from death and destruction, should follow the Nogis’ lead and disembowel themselves.  That would be quite appropriate, don’t you think?

After 5pm the sun’s cruel and deadening grip began to ease up, and Tsukuba’s old neighborhoods started to come to life. By day, most adults had sought out the comforts of some air-conditioned refuge, while those with no such luxury sufficed with a shady place and a fan to laze away the day watching High School Baseball or the Olympics. It was even hard to spot any kids outside enjoying summer vacation. It seems that, they too, much prefer to be indoors with their beloved video games which have overwhelmingly supplanted hunting for insects and playing in the fields as the number one summer fun.

The evening of August 13th is always filled with excitement in these traditional enclaves. It is the first day of Bon, the three day period in which the souls of departed ancestors return to their hometowns to be with their descendants. Children and grandchildren have arrived. Preparations have been made. The house cleaned, the Buddhist altar (butsudan) set up with the proper decorations and offerings (these can conveniently be purchased at the special O-Bon corners in the supermarkets) and special lanterns and votive strips of paper placed at the front gate or entranceway to the house.

On this evening, the spirits of ancestors will come home, and their living descendants go to the cemetery to greet them and guide them home. This evening I saw Tsukuba’s small graveyards teeming with color and activity as families brought flowers, water and incense, as well as a lantern with which to guide the spirits back to their homes. Many neighborhoods can be seen with streets fully lined with such lanterns so no spirits will lose their way. Homes in which someone has recently passed away usually put out a much larger lantern suspended high on a pole since this will be the first time that that particular soul makes the journey back. These families celebrating a first Bon, might even light a traditional Bon Greeting Fire (迎え火, mukaebi), which have have been almost completely replaced by lanterns, for guiding and welcoming returning ancestral spirits.

When the families arrive home, the spirits are symbolically purified with water and salt, and greeted with 長い道を御苦労さまでした (nagai michi o gokuro sama deshita), you must be tired after your long journey! Then tea is drunk and incense burned.

In Ibaraki, especially around Lake Kasumigaura, there are many villages which continue to keep alive a very interesting custom, which is especially fun for the kids. The spirits of ancestors don’t have to walk from the graveyard. They are transported IN STYLE, on the backs of large dragons or snakes of straw, carried by the village children from the cemetery to EACH HOUSE IN THE VILLAGE where the appropriate ancestors are dropped off with much merriment.

Fortunately, there are also a few neighborhoods in Tsukuba which still keep the same custom, called Bon Tsuna (盆綱), or Tsuna Bon (綱盆). I joined two separate such events (in different parts of Tsukuba) this evening, and I would like to tell you about them.

Before the war, Bon Tsuna had been practiced in numerous hamlets in what is now Tsukuba City. It is now found in only a handful. Today I went around with the the straw dragon of Kami-Sasagi, near Tsukuba Hospital and the Space Center, and also that of Kurihara, farther north, near Tsukuba’s heliport.

In both of these magnificent hamlets, the children make the straw dragons on the morning of the 13th, with the help of some adults. At the end of the day, this year’s dragons are burned. In Sasagi, the dragon was more elaborately made, and well… more dragon-like, while its Kurihara counterpart seemed to be a thick pole made of straw.

The kids of Kurihara, however, certainly, showed lots of enthusiasm and stamina. They carried the heavy pole to more than 30 houses. They ran up to each house with a cry: “The spirits have arrived!” Then they proceeded to toss the dragon into the air about ten times before going on to the next house. In Sasaki, the same went on without the tossing and chanting.

Besides these straw dragons, both in Tsukuba and in some other area of Japan it is customary to decorate the Buddhist altar with a horse and an ox, made from a cucumber and an eggplant, respectively. These are also meant to represent rides for the spirits, and they are often cast off onto rivers or into the sea at the end of the festival. These decorations are fun for kids and utilize IN SEASON vegetables. A friend of mine in his 80s, Yoshida-san, told me something that I had never heard or read anywhere before. He said that the cucumber horse was meant for the arriving spirits, because horses are fast, the ox is for the departure, because it is slower, allowing for some last lingering moments with mortal loved-ones.

Making horses and oxen

Historically, the summer months were a time in which the inhabitants of the Japanese isles were susceptible to sickness and epidemics. The month-long rainy season often led to flooding, which was then followed by almost two months of intense heat and humidity. Perfect conditions for the incubation and spread of deadly bacteria. In modern times, government sponsorship of vaccination programs, and the very successful propagation of the rules of hygiene among the general public have pretty much put an end to the health hazards of summer. The early Japanese state had no recourse to modern medicine. It did, however, introduce a nation-wide government sponsored program with the aim of protecting the health of the populace living under its domain. In the Nara Period (710-794), the Japanese Court proclaimed that each year, two official purification rites be held for the physical and spiritual welfare of its subjects. One was to be held in June （夏越の祓、nagoshi no harae) and the other in December (年越の祓toshikoshi no harae).

The summer rites often, but not always, featured the use of a large ring, made of reeds or straw, through which those seeking purification would walk. The belief in the purifying powers of these vertical rings derives from a story in Japanese mythology in which the God Susanoo no Mikoto advises a poor man who has  helped him, to weave a ring of reeds and wear it around his waist to protect himself from an imminent epidemic. The man survived, and the ring’s reputation born. The passing-through-the-ring ceremony is usually called CHINOWA KUGURI (茅の輪くぐり), but in Ibaraki you will hear WAKUGURI more often.

You have a chance to witness or undergo this ancient rite this coming Saturday, June 29th at the Kaba-San Shrine (加波山神社, kabasan Jinja), just past Mt. Tsukuba, near Makabe. Things will get underway at 11:00 with a traditional sword drawing ritual (as you might know, swords have great powers of exorcism and purification in Japan). The  sword cuts through the air with a haunting WHOOSH, scaring off any lingering evil. The procession through the ring is then  led by the priest and a conch blower (the sound of this large shell is also known for its exorcistic powers!) and 2 men holding lion masks. After passing through the ring three times, the priest begins a purification ritual (o-harai),which takes about 30 minutes and culminates in the dispensing of sacred sake(omiki)to all the participants. Later  papers with the names and ages of worshippers written on them  are released into a stream near the summit of Mt. Kaba.

There are actually 3 shrines called kaba-San Jinja at present. The first one you come to after turning off the main road also has a ring set up,but there is no special ceremony(this shrine should also be visited if you make the trip to Mt Kaba.The Shrine I am discussing in the present article is a little further up the road,just next to the small Tobbaco Shrine.It CANT be missed as it is big, red and gaudy. In fact I cant recall having seen such a shrine in Japan. The decorative motifs are much more reminiscent of Singapore, a mix of Indian and Chinese. The ring itself also suggests that this custom might have Pacific island origins.

Mt. Kaba itself is well worth a visit anytime, for its nature, shrines and for its historical significance. You might not associate Ibaraki with political radicalism, but in fact, this region has long been associated with violent HOT-HEADS going all the way back to the rebel Taira no Masakado, the man who ruled this very area for 2 years as a virtually independent domain before being captured and beheaded in the late 10th century. Almost a thousand years later, in 1884, revolutionary activists inspired by the assassination of the Russian Tsar conceived a plan to strike at Japanese politicians and business leaders with home-made bombs. Their plan to set off bombs at a meeting in Utsunomiya in Tochigi was discovered and the plotters headed for the hills. In this case they fled to Mt Kaba. Battles ensued with a number of casualties on both sides.

If you have no time for chinowa kuguri this weekend, you will have a second chance, right here in Tsukuba, at the end of next month. See my Alien Times article: The Ancient Rite Of Chinowa-Kuguri at Tsukuba’s Hie Shrine.

If you are travelling around Japan this summer and visit some shrines, it is very likely that you will see these rings of straw set up on the path leading to the main hall. Now you will know what they are, and what they are for. Remember, the ring gives six whole months of protection, so why not go through it?

Here is a message from Elvira Suto, the organizer of the Tsukuba Catholic Church Bazaar.

On behalf of the members of the Tsukuba Catholic Church (TCC), I would like to invite you all to come to our annual bazaar at the TCC (near Hanamasa in Matsushiro) on October 19, 2008, from 10:00 to 13:00.

A variety of articles including bags, shoes, household items, handicrafts, books, plants, small-sized electrical appliances and many more will be sold at very low prices. You will also enjoy dishes and delicacies from participating countries: Japan, Indonesia, Korea, Sri Lanka and the Philippines. The proceeds of this year’s bazaar will go to (1) a Seminary in the Philippines, (2) Davao (Philippines) School and Rehabilitation Center for the Visually Impaired, (3) Myanmar’s cyclone and China’s earthquake victims.

If you have articles that you do not need anymore or are no longer using but are still in good shape and functional, you may want to consider donating them to our bazaar. Due to the limited space in our church, however, we can not accept large/medium sized furniture, large-sized electrical appliances such as desktop PC, refrigerator, washing machine and TV as well as ski and golf goods, wet suits and others. Also, we are not selling used clothing this year. You can bring your donations directly to the TCC or you can contact me (090-6544-4140; 029-874-4765 suto@sam.hi.ho.ne.jp) for pick up arrangements. Donations will be accepted until Friday, October 17.

Thank you very much in advance for your generous donations.

Sincerely yours,
Elvira G. Suto
TCC Bazaar Committee