46,000 Visits at One Shot! Asakusa Kannon’s Hozuki-Ichi
For many Japanese, it goes without saying that worshipping at a Buddhist temple on any given day brings one merit. Some days, however, are special. In fact, according to tradition, tomorrow, July 10, is VERY SPECIAL INDEED, as dropping in at the Asakusa Kannon will be equivalent to 46,000 regular day visits! This sounds-too-good-to-be-true offer gets even better. From early in the morning to about midnight, hundreds of small stalls will be set up selling hozuki and wind chimes, two classic symbols of July in Japan. Hozuki are delicate, almost translucent, orange pods, which are reminiscent of half-deflated origami balloons. They have traditionally been used as decorations, toys and laxatives! The hozuki market is held in Asakusa because sometime in the 18th century a certain samurai's attendant is said to have dreamed of the plant's curative powers which were later confirmed by the amazed local residents. The market has been held ever since, for more than 200 years.
Many older women I have spoken to in Tsukuba can remember painstakingly removing the seeds from the delicate pods as children to make toy noise makers which were blown into -- something kids today probably don't have the patience or desire to do!
The beautiful hozuki plants, the excitement in the air, and the cool tingling of countless wind-chimes makes for a perfect summer excursion -- and you can get yourself PLENTY of merit to boot!
Alas, tomorrow is a weekday. But for those who can't make it to Asakusa's Sensoji, a final look can be had at the beautiful hozuki arrangement in the lobby of the Okura Hotel at Tsukuba Center. The lobby flowers are changed every Thursday at the Okura, so you had better get there early. I've been going EVERY DAY!
In contrast to the always tasteful floral inventions which can be encountered at the hotel, the managers of the Tsukuba Center Complex have put up a tacky display of poster-sized photos, cheaply framed, of VIPs who have visited the center over the past 20 years. You might imagine that these would be shots of great scientists or scholars, as many have been through Tsukuba over the years. The organizers of this particular display, however, have selected only pictures of royalty: the Showa Emperor, the current Emperor and his wife as Crown Prince and Princess, the Kings of Belgium and Sweden, the Princess of Thailand, Margaret Thatcher, etc.
Seems a bit out of touch with what Tsukuba is supposed to be about, but these unartfully hung posters can't help help but make one stop a moment, have a look at each one and wonder where all the time goes.
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A late-night encounter with O-Demari (大手毬) – Japanese Snowballs!
O-demari ( Japanese snowballs) in Tsukuba (May 2011)
They`ve changed the bus routes! As of April 1st 2011, the Tsuku Bus- the city`s subsidized transport service, no longer stops in front of my house- though it still does pass by as it follows its route ( as if to mock me)!
Now if I want to get around town by bus I have to walk over to the old Sakura City Office. The fastest way for me to get there is to take a short-cut through one of Tsukuba`s most beautiful undeveloped areas- the wilds between the Sakura Junior High School and the former city office, which is a rich ( though unmarked) archaeoligical site ( a government office stood there more than 1,000 years ago) that is now something of a small, very unofficial, nature preserve- replete with all sorts of small animals and birds, and of course plenty of interesting vegetation.
One night last week, I decided to take the bus back home, and I got out at the lonely Former City-Office stop at about 10 PM. It certainly IS a creepy place to get dropped off at that hour, but still, instead of walking around the LONG WAY, taking the street-lit and paved sidewalks, I headed on, without flashlight, into the wilds- with the crazed frog choruses from nearby rice fields as background music!
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized that the moon, though not full, would provide adequate illumination for me to navigate the dirt paths.
Very soon along my way, I noticed the silhouettes of two large Ural Owls ( FUKURO) perched on a tree. They were unnerved by my presence, and silently took off into flight, displaying the outlines of their broad wingspans in the moonlit sky. MAGICAL!
Transfixed, I stopped in my tracks to admire them, though in less than an instant they had vanished from sight.
Straining my eyes in the dark to see the birds, I noticed something unusual up ahead- large and glowing ghostly white. A chill ran down my spine.
I approached slowly, and realized that it was no spectre I had come across, but a tree- more than two meters tall and fully bedecked with surprisingly large, round, white flowers. From the size and shape of the blossoms I realized it was an O-Demari tree (Viburnum plicatum var. plicatum f. plicatum), whose flowers in English have come to be called ( quite appropriately) JAPANESE SNOWBALLS!
I stood transfixed for a few moments beneath the tree which glowed in the weak moonlight and seemed to come to life with each breeze- before continuing on my way home.
A closer look
The next morning, I knew that I just HAD TO take the bus into town, so that on my way to the stop I could get a look at the tree in the daylight.
And it WAS as spectacular as it had been the previous night. And though not as mysterious as it had been in the moonlight, I still missed my bus.
The O- demari, also known as the TEMARI BANA（手鞠花 ) in Japanese, is a member of the Honeysuckle Family, and is in fact a cultivar developed over the centuries by Japanese horticulturalists, of a native species called the YABU DEMARI (ヤブデマリ,V. plicatum var.tomentosum).
The flowers of the O-demari bloom in May, giving us what look like snowballs just when the weather is finally warming up ( they look so tempting that you want to pull one off and throw it at someone!)
It is interesting that if I show a close-up photo of these flowers to botanically-savy Japanese they all immediately assume that what they are looking at is HYDRANGEA. In fact, the O-demari DO look uncannilly like those much more famous ( and commonly found) blossoms.
Another confusing point, is that there is another decorative plant in Japan called the KODEMARI, which is usually assumed to be a relative of the snowballs. There are two reasons for this. One is that they look quite similar, especially from afar. More importantly, however, are the names of these plants, which can be taken to mean LARGE DEMARI ( O-demari), and SMALL DEMARI ( kodemari).They are in fact, not even of the same family.
Snowball petals on the ground
Anyway, my mysterious encounter with the O-demari was so impressive, that I think I will have to try to get to a tree nursery and buy one for my garden. I hope to enjoy its SNOWBALLS in future Mays- especially on moonlit nights!
Check here for some pictures of KODEMARI ( more commonly seen than, and completely UNRELATED to O-DEMARI):
http://www.hana300.com/kodema1.html
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A Gathering Of Blues
Japan's month long rainy season (tsuyu, 梅雨) usually ends in mid-July, and that means there are precious few days left to savor its SPECIAL BEAUTY. Many Japanese consider Ajisai (紫陽花, or hydrangea) to be the quintessential flower of this season, as they look just right when wet, and enshrouded in mist. And though these flowers can be found almost anywhere you turn your head in Tsukuba, thousands of Tsukubans make long trips (or should I say pilgrimages?) to famous ajisai temples, especially in Kamakura. Nearer to home there are 2 other nationally renowned hydrangea-viewing meccas, the Amabiki Kannon near Makabe, and the Taiho Hachiman Shrine in Shimotsuma. Both highly recommended at ANYTIME. All the more so in this season.
The flower has a long history in these islands and many scholars actually assert that it is indigenous to Japan and in fact introduced to China from here. After centuries of breeding, numerous varieties have been developed and new colors, pinks and whites, brought out. By taking a look at the etymology of the Japanese name AJISAI, we can see that in earlier times the flowers were mainly blue, as the sounds used to make up the name originally meant a GATHERING OF BLUES (aji-from atsu (集まる) or gather , and ai (藍), indigo blue.
Hydrangea have another Japanese name, however, nanahenge (七変化), or seven transformations, which derives from the flower's unique characteristic. The colors of the petals change according to the chemical make-up of the soil! This feature has given the flower rich symbolic meaning in Japanese art and poetry -- especially to represent a fickle and changing heart. It is because of this characteristic too, that hydrangea were shunned by the warrior class in the feudal period, because for them, changing colors, or by extension loyalties, was anathema .
For Westerners, however, hydrangea can be seen as a symbol of silent devotion, as its scientific name, otaksa, appears to refer to Otaki-San, a woman from Nagasaki's pleasure quarter, who was the mistress of the German naturalist P.F. von Siebold, who went on to introduce ajisai to Europe .
One more point. These flowers are to be looked at and NOT EATEN. Recently, there was a nationally reported case of food poisoning which occurred down the road from my house in Tsukuba at the curious and pricey Italian restaurant Toeimon Sakae. The chef, in keeping with the season-conscious aesthetics of Japanese cooking(despite this being an Italian eatery), garnished a dish with the very IN SEASON leaves of hydrangea. These were subsequently consumed by the unsuspecting diners.
This resulted in what must have been an unforgettable scene, right out of Monty Python. You see, the leaves of ajisai have always been used to induce vomiting, especially when poisons were consumed. Imagine then, the eight customers wretching uncontrollably, spewing out their expensive dinners onto the antique furniture and tatami mats (this restaurant is in a magnificent thatched roof farm house!).Surprisingly,the penalty for this chef`s oversight was a mere one-day suspension of business.
while you're out there enjoying the last few AJISAI DAYS remember: LOOK BUT DON'T TASTE.
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A Glimpse (and Whiff) of Things to Come
Plum Blossoms In Tsukuba - Feb. 4, 2009
Even in Japan's mild-wintered Kanto region, in most years, on February 4th, radio and television weathercasters can do nothing but complain about the inappropriately cold weather. This year, however, on that day, afternoon temperatures actually reached a toasty 14 degrees centigrade, an unusual case of the weather properly befitting the occasion, Risshun (立春), the first day of spring. And, as an extra treat, many of Tsukuba's plum blossoms (ume no hana), Japan's symbolic harbingers of spring, burst into bloom (perfectly on cue) on the very same day! These earliest blooming of Japan's popular flowering trees are also its most fragrant, and yesterday's warm breezes might have carried their thick, sweet, syrupy smell to your nose.
The traditional Japanese calendar is divided into 24 equal sections called SEKKI (節気), which creates an idealized, perfectly balanced four-seasoned year. The first day of spring is determined as the exact middle point between the winter solstice (冬至, toji) and the vernal equinox (春分の日、shunbun no hi), which usually has RISSHUN fall on February 4th. Subsequently, we have the first day of summer (Rikka, 立夏) on May 5th this year, that being the day equidistant from the spring equinox and the summer solstice (geshi, 夏至）. The other two seasonal turning points, the first day of autumn (risshuu, 立秋) and the first day of winter (rittou, 立冬), are determined in the same manner, creating four seasons, each ninety days long.
Plum blossoms In Tsukuba's Botanical Garden - Feb. 4, 2009
When Japan still followed its old calendar, Risshun, the first day of spring, was also the first day of the new year, the day on which all Japanese would grow one year older together. That is why on the evening of the previous day (February 3rd, this year), it is the tradition to eat the same number of soy beans as your age (sometimes plus one!), in what is called the SETSUBUN festival. Another name for the evening before RISSHUN was TOSHI NO YORU (歳の夜), which could be translated as the BIRTHDAY EVENING.
Of course, the Japanese seasonal divisions are not usually in accordance with meteoroloigical realities, as the coldest days of the year usually hit during the weeks AFTER the first day of spring, and in many parts of Japan the snow remains deep. There is even a famous expression and lyric to a well-known song which goes "HARU WA NA NOMI" (春は名のみ), which means "spring in name only". Despite the cold of early spring, for the Japanese it was the OCCASIONAL warm breeze, the stirring of certain plants and animals and the blooming of the plum blossoms (especially on snow covered branches), that is to say the little CHANGES and HINTS which gave hope and expectation of things to come that were what early spring was recognized as and appreciated for.
The blossoms of the plum tree (ume no ki), which has been bred into such numerous varieties since being brought to Japan more than 1000 years ago by returnees of missions to various Chinese dynastic courts, rival those of Japan's national flower, the cherry blossoms (sakura no hana) in terms of endearment in the hearts of the Japanese people. In fact, in the early Showa Period, there was a heated debate over which of the two WOULD become the national flower. The plum's strong points were not only that it was beautiful and highly fragrant and the first major blossom of the new year and thus symbol of spring's coming, praised so often by Japan's greatest classical poets. It was also a unique feature of the DAILY JAPANESE DIET in the form of UME BOSHI, or salted plums, as well as a popular ingredient for liquor and juice. It was probably the fact that plum blossoms were already the national flower of China (which they still are in Taiwan), and had been introduced to Japan from there that the UME lost out. Of course, there is also the matter of the more delicate cherry blossoms being more representative of the quintessential Japanese notion, MUJO, the fleeting nature of all things.
Despite having been brought in from abroad, the first western scientists to encounter the plum trees, including Philip Von Sebold, mistook them as being native to Japan. This could also be because, though a popular motive of Chinese art, there is no special tradition of viewing their flowers nor is there the custom of regularly eating their fruit.
For the Japanese, there is another interesting significance to the plum blossom: its connection to the passing of entrance examinations! The other day, just as I was mentioning plum blossoms to a friend of mine who has been driven to distraction by her son's upcoming exams, someone's cellphone rang. It was hers. A considerate friend had sent her a photo of a plum tree in bloom as a way of saying, "I hope your son is gonna pass!"
How did the ume no hana come to have such a connection to studies and the passing of tests? Well, the answer is simple: the plum tree was a favorite of SUGAWARA NO MICHIZANE, the great Heian Period poet, scholar and calligrapher who was unjustly expelled from the capital, died in exile, and was later enshrined as the GOD TENJIN, the patron god of scholars, poets, calligraphers and students. According to legend, when Michizane was leaving the capital on the road to exile in distant Dazaifu, Kyushu, it was only his plum tree that Michizane bade farewell with this, the most famous of all his poems.
KOCHI FUKABA NIOI OKOSE YO UME NO HANA
ARUJI NASHI TOTE HARU NA WASURESO
(If the East wind blows this way, send your fragrance to me, o plum blossoms,
even though I am no longer there).
Legend then says that the tree came flying all the way to Kyushu to give the forlorn aristocrat solace to the end of his days (which was not very far off).
Plum Blossoms In Tsukuba's Woods
There are almost always plum trees, sometimes hundreds, at shrines dedicated to Michizane, or TENJIN, as he is called in deified form. In this season, millions of supplicants visit these shrines to pray for exam success, and appropriately the plum blossoms are opening, filling the sacred precincts with the fragrance of HOPE.
Luckily for those of us who live in Ibaraki, Mito, our prefectural capital is the home to one of the most famous places for enjoying plum blossoms, KAIRAKUEN. The ume festival there will begin toward the end of this month.
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A Trip to Ibaraki Nature Museum
You know you've found a great museum when your 30-something year old friend finds an exhibit and practically screams your name from across the room and shouts, "Come here!!" I had heard about Ibaraki Nature Museum from Alien Times and I sometimes noticed posters or banners advertising their exhibits, but I didn't really have a good sense of what it was all about.
The Ibaraki Nature Museum is all about science and nature. It has permanent exhibits that cover various topics (see below) such as dinosaurs, the senses, and geology. Rather than making you read boring panels about the exhibits, however, this museum lets you interact with almost everything you see. There is an exhibit that lets you pet a real (but stuffed) fox, one that lets you see the world through the eyes of a fish, a grasshopper, or a cat, and one that shows you a skull and lets you guess what animal it came from. One of my favourites showed a bat, a grasshopper, a dog, and a dolphin and then let you play a sound. When you increased or decreased the frequency, the animal would move if it could hear it and stop moving when it stopped hearing it. Dogs could hear a huge range beyond what humans could here, but bats couldn't really hear in our range, but had an impressive range above what we could hear. There are lots of buttons to press, videos to watch, and things to touch. It is even possible to take photos throughout the museum, since the exhibits are generally replicas rather than the real thing.
Also, they have good support for people who don't speak Japanese. There are pamphlets in several languages and an audio guide system that lets you listen to explanations based on where you are. The system uses a receiver rather than a cassette, so you don't have to listen to the explanations in order. The audio guide system was available in Japanese and English (and possibly one other language, but I forgot to check).
I went to the museum on a rainy Saturday afternoon, so I didn't get a chance to explore the outdoor part of the museum. As you can see from the list below, the outdoor exhibits cover a wide variety of topics and might even require their own trip.
I strongly and highly recommend a trip to this museum. It is a bit difficult to get there without a car, but it is worth the hassle. If you enjoy thinking about science, and especially if you want to expose your children to scientific concepts, this is a must-see place in Ibaraki.
See the full article on the Alien Times site.
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