Glimpses of Familiar Japan - Day 9, Kiyomizu Temple and Southern Higashiyama

Not everything always goes well on a vacation or a tour of any kind.   Even in Japan, we had hiccups now and again for all of our fortunes.  Our ninth day is a perfect example, but it ended with small treasures that make up for the problems.

This is a shopping street on the way up, very touristy feeling.

Couryard of Kiyomizu

Pausing to look at the shops and stalls on the way.

Temple gate at Kiyomizu

It is an impressive approach to the temple proper.

Votive ema on the temple walls.

Day nine was very tough for me because it was something of a letdown in a location I had desperately wanted to see my entire life.    We rode the train to Kiyomizu Temple with plans to walk from there along the hills and down to the Heian Shrine.  Kiyomizu was the first stop.   If you don’t know the name, you will likely recognize its porch set against the backdrop of Kyoto beneath it on the hill.

This was perhaps the one time where our timing was completely off.  There were crowds upon crowds of people when we arrived, and the way to Kiyomizu was mobbed because it was a shopping street.   Arriving there, we found even more people, because it’s a very popular temple.  We could scarcely move to breathe on the famous veranda. 

Standing there, though, we had a lovely view down below and out to the city beyond.  The whole of the structure supposedly doesn’t have a single nail in it, and it's very impressive to see.  But this was perhaps the one location that felt entirely like a tourist trap above being a temple.  

A "Love" stone at Kiyomizu.  Supposedly if you walk from one to another you will find true love.  The area was very kitschy.  It seemed so out of place compared to the more peaceful settings we’d been to the previous day. 

Kiyomizu is also known as a temple of sacred waters.  Here people line up to wash their hands and drink from the sacred waterfall.  It is a place for students to wish for good grades.  As you can see there are a few kids in yellow hats on the left.  This is standard "field trip" attire.

Despite the crowds, Kiyomizu is a remarkable setting.

There is a fantastic view of Kyoto.

It's amazing to think this structure is so many centuries old and one of the greatest symbols of Kyoto.

Even our friendly kitsune have a place here.

Higashiyama was a nice reprieve because the crowds vanished, and we were left in a narrow pedestrian street surrounded on either side by wooden shops and houses. There were tea houses, incense shops, pottery stores and art depots.  The people here were warm and friendly, and there was a sense of ancient nuisance about it.  This was the Kyoto I always imagined, and not the telephone forested streets everywhere else. 

The approach to Higashiyama.  Note the lack of people.

It is a warren of narrow streets and unique shops and homes.

This is what I imagined Kyoto to truly be.

I imagine the owners live upstairs.

It is easy to want to get lost here.

No idea, but they were being sold at a shop.  I thought they were cute.

We passed several shrines but did not go in as it required to pay in order to enter.  One had a huge statue of a Kannon, and we figured we could see it well from the outside without going in.

We skipped this temple.  You had to pay to see the Kannon statue up close.  Strange, you can see it just fine for free outside.

The highlight of this part of the day came at Shorenin Temple.   At first I was disappointed because the temple itself was under massive reconstruction and we couldn't see the actual structure.  Touring inside, we passed by massive statues of Buddha and Kannon, all made of gold, and emerged into a large hall.  There, we found that there was a Buddhist ceremony going on.  

We took off our shoes and sat down on the tatami mat floor to watch, along with many others who entered before and after.  Observing the priests, we listened to them chant softly as they approached their altar with some kind of offering.  Another priest kept slowly banging on a great ornate fish-shaped bell beside him.   It was the only religious ceremony we witnessed, but it left a profound impact.  We left feeling re-energized and ready to wind down to the Heian Shrine. 

Heian Shrine courtyard

The main entrance is built in a uniquely Korean style.

Built after the war as a part of reconstruction, the Heian Shrine is in the style of ancient palaces that once stood in Kyoto when it was the capital of Imperial Japan.  It’s a distinctly Korean influenced building with high sweeping teal roofs and great wings that spread to either side.  In front is a courtyard with dragon and tiger fountains respectively on either side.  We were here to see the garden that lay beyond and it did not disappoint. 

Where's the talking caterpillar?

Entering the gardens of the Heian Shrine is something akin to walking into Wonderland as Alice might.  Everywhere there are signs that say “This way, this way.”   I don’t know if this is a joke or serious, but we just kept to the left.  It was an unusual thing to be certain.   The garden is gorgeous to behold, winding around trees that probably blossom in the spring.

These are called the dragon stones.  We took some courage and crossed them. 

FEED MEEEE!

There’s a huge lake that runs in the center with a tea house on one side and a magnificent wooden bridge straddling it.  At one point we passed a little area with stepping stones in the middle of the water.  These are known as the dragon stones, though we don’t know why, but they were fun to jump across while fish stared at us wondering what we were doing.  Speaking of fish, magnificent carp come up to you all over this gate with their big gaping mouths seeking food.  They obviously are well fed and know the tourists when they see them. 

A tea house.

We took a short break on the bridge and sat to gaze out at the whole of the garden.  It’s not hard to imagine yourself as a courtier gazing at the floating leaves, hear the trickling water and forgetting that you are not ten yards away from a busy section of the city.  

This scene at the temple was just spectacular.

Higashiyama and Heian Shrine were the highlight of day 9.  We could have sat and listened to the priests chant for hours and been content.  I suppose the quiet moments were the ones we cherished the most in our busy schedule, and we certainly didn’t have too many.  Looking back I would go to each of these places again, though perhaps Kiyomizu would have been better if we’d seen it much earlier in the day.

1000 Pageviews and Thoughts

This is a special moment for me!  Small as my following may be, and humble as my beginnings, I have reached a 1000 pageviews of this blog!  This might not seem a tremendous number, but for me, it is!   I wish to thank everyone who has looked at my blog and given it some thought and opportunity.  It is my hope the site will continue to grow with time and I can reach the numbers of some of my new friends, fellow authors, illustrators and creative partners.  Today I thought I would branch from my usual repertoire about my book or my journey to Japan to talk a bit of nostalgia.  Whether this is well received well, I will see!

My beginnings as a writer were very humble.  I remember having a creative inkling from my earliest days.  I would take my little figures (action, playmobil, legos etc) and creating stories from things I read or even watched on tv.  Today I suppose these would be fanfics, but at the time they were my own little world, kind of like what Pixar does in their stories with "Toy Story."  A kid playing with his toys, a world apart from what most people know.  Certainly I am not likening myself to them, but everyone knows that story and can relate in some way.   I certainly had many of the toys.

I was also fond of certain television, and I had the pleasure of growing up in a golden age of very thought provoking, interesting stories in cartoons, no less.   This was a golden age, when I think children were not treated with the "Dora the Explorer" mentality.  Some of the conversations and dramas played out in cartoons of this time were very dark with deep and fascinatingly evil antagonists, but at the same time they had a heroes journey in their protagonists.

There were movies too, I loved "Back to the Future" and "Indiana Jones."  "Star Wars" was a staple, along with many Disney features.  It was a golden time for all of these before prequels, remasters and terrible sequels.  There was the original "Lion King" which was essentially Hamlet.   Yet for all this I didn't really start writing until the sixth grade and read the book, Dinotopia by James Gurney.

This was a turning point for me, for it combined two of my great loves, dinosaurs and fantastic settings. Gurney is a master storyteller.  The book itself is a "journal" but with beautifully picturesque artwork detailing this world where dinosaurs still live.   The paintings are immensely expressive and evoke a steampunk atmosphere that I very much wanted to visit.   I mean, what kid didn't want to go see dinosaurs?

Dinotopia wasn't just a book, it was an experience.  It is meticulously cataloged, to the point it could very well be Jules Verne, and it takes a lot of inspiration from that.   The machines, creatures, even the writing style is very Vernesque.  It's wonderfully atmospheric, and the fact that there were talking dinosaurs, or dinosaurs of any kind was just icing on the cake.  This is a MUST read for any child, and I hawk the fact it inspired me whenever I talk to kids in class at my workplace.

I remember the writing assessment I had after I read the book where I was to propose a letter to the author. I wrote a detailed letter, asking many questions and talking about my favorite parts of the book. At my Mom or Dad's prompting (I forget which, sorry Mom or Dad)  I actually mailed the letter to Mr. Gurney. Much was my surprise when I got a letter back, not just any letter.  This was on Mr. Gurney's signature typeface.  It was about two pages or so, back to front with a golden letterhead.  Mr. Gurney took the time to not only answer my questions but provide insight, and his young son (who was seven at the time) also wrote in the margins and on the back.

It was a uniquely personal letter, and I hope to scan a copy and put it up here soon someday.  I never forgot that moment because I wanted to be a writer from there on.   I wrote Mr. Gurney one more time, but lost correspondence after that.   I am glad to see he has continued his work and not only written more about Dinotopia but made a blog about his work which can be found here.

I don't know if I can measure up to his creative genius.  I certainly am no artist like he is, but that simple act of kindness started me on a long journey.  It is an act I have yet to receive from an agent or a publisher of any kind and one I think more should try to attempt.  After all, we are all writers, creators and geniuses in our own way.  It only takes a moment of inspiration to set the pen to paper and begin.

Glimpses of Familiar Japan - Day 8, Fushimi Inari Shrine

In Japan, there are legends of creatures who can take the shape of anything from a beautiful woman to a simple, cracked clay pot. The Japanese Fox' is one such creature according to the mythology.  The foxes use their gifts as either tool to test man, or trick to lead him astray, always guileful and mercurial beings in their dealings with humans.  Most commonly they are associated with Inari, patron god/goddess of the rice harvest and of worldly fortune.  As a result, good kitsune are revered as his/her messengers, almost to the point of godhood themselves at times.  

As the writer, Lafcadio Hearn put it, "Vast is the literature of the subject of foxes - ghostly foxes.  Some of it is as old as the eleventh century.  In the ancient romances, and the modern cheap novel, in historical traditions and in popular fairy-tales, foxes perform wonderful parts.  There are very beautiful, very sad, and very terrible stories about foxes.  There are legends of foxes discussed by great scholoars, and legends of foxes known to every child in Japan."  -Lafcadio Hearn, Glimpses of Unfamiliar Japan.

It was this premise, these stories and histories that inspired my book, which in turn inspired me to finally take the leap and travel to Japan.  Among all the sights, sounds and places I wanted to visit, one ranked above many of the others I've mentioned so far, or have yet to mention.   This place is Fushimi Inari Taisha, chief shrine of Inari and the home of kitsune.  Fushimi Inari is known for two things, the foxes and thousands upon thousands of torii gates which line the pathways across an entire mountainside that makes up the shrine.  

 If you’ve seen "Memoires of a Geisha", you've seen the endless torii of Fushimi Shrine.  I hadn’t, but the instant I saw them, I was intrigued.  A forest of the man-made structures supposedly lined the entire mountain with little shops, smaller shrines and warrens of paths here and there.  Everywhere one looks there are statues and shrines dedicated to kitsune. 

Approaching from the station, you pass through a small neighborhood of wooden buildings and modern convenience stores.  As always with shrines, they eventually emerge from beneath a torii gate and pass from the modern into the more ancient.  The path that leads up to the huge main gate is wide with cobblestones, and the first thing to greet you here is a bronze fox, frozen in mid leap with a hunk of golden grain in its jaws and a fiery jewel on his tail.  It seems to smile at you as you approach, its tail caught in the air almost beckoning you approach.  

From there it’s a walk up to the Romon Gate, a spectacular structure of brilliant orange and white protected by two stern bronze foxes on pedestals before it.  It was these two that first inspired my book.  They seem to stare down at all who pass, their bodies paused on haunches with a key or jewel in their jaws respectively.  Just looking at them, you feel you are being watched, or that perhaps they could leap to life at any moment.

Beyond them is the main portion of the shrine itself, leading up to a mountainside that the whole of the temple encompasses.  I bought a fortune here and paused for reflection at the main offering hall.  I’d lobbed coins here and there at shrines we’d passed, but this time I took my time for proper reverence.  I prayed for our journey, for my creative endeavors and for myself and my family.   Hearing the clanking of coins, the jingling of bells, and the shuffle of people, it wasn’t hard to imagine whatever spirits lingered in the quiet hall were still watching me.  I imagine they wondered what the heck I was doing there.

Romon Gate

Walking up the hill, you find more foxes, and then inadvertently if you are local or guest, from afar or near you stop dead still.   

A line of torii appears in front of you and stretches up the mountain past the line of sight.   It is a veritable forest of orange, like a tunnel, weaving in and out of a primeval forest.   It is such an extraordinary sight because there are tens of thousands of these gates up the mountain, each emblazoned with kanji denoting the donating person or company and the year of the donation.  You can walk for hours along the torii lined paths, and quickly lose your way entirely with no sense of rhyme or reason until you inevitably stumble on a little shop or wider space used for a shrine. 

Colorful tassels and votive ema

One of many ornate lanterns that light the way at night.

Main shrine area

Torii path

One of many smaller shrines.

Fushimi is a veritable city within a city.

More foxes guarding a gate.

They peer from shadows all around.

From small to large from simple...

to ornate...

My parents and I loved this place.  We spent a good few hours exploring the paths and tiny shrines that line the mountain.   If I may say one thing about Fushimi, though, that is to its detriment, if it has tens of thousands of torii and an entire mountainside of pathways.  Everywhere we looked were quiet places removed from everywhere else, seemingly removed from the mortal world.  Foxes stood fearsome and proud on their pedestals with sharp teeth borne to ward off evil spirits.    

There are also smaller torii which are the “ema” (prayer placards) at the shrine.  These people drape one on top of another in a chaotic mish-mash of preposterous perpetuity.   The whole of the mountain is deeply shaded by the forest, so here and there what light we had came from shafts or small candles lit in the shadows of shrines.  It continued and created the unearthly feel of the whole place. 

Fearsome guarding a single candle.  No wind yet the thing flickered as we approached ... eerie.

Top of the mountain

We stopped at a tiny shop/shrine which sold dozens of these torii ema of various size, and here we made the third big purchase of the trip, but perhaps the third most important to me.  The gentleman working was very kind and extremely helpful.  We picked out a little shrine and he put my name, the date and some kanji to stand for longevity.  The way he worked was extraordinary, such careful calligraphy on a small surface.  At the very end, he clapped two small stones together over it to make a spark, though the purpose of this I didn’t understand.  With votive in hand, we went down the hill and emerged at a spot I knew from google images.

What I took to calling "The Laughing Fox"

It’s a small shrine nestled against a mountain. Like everywhere in Kyoto, water flows here in great torrents, and it crashes down among the shrines and candlelit hollows guarded by fox statues.   Near this place is a fountain in the shape of a fox with mouth open.  A sprig of bamboo is placed in the fox's mouth, and the way it trickles down almost sounded like laughter to me.  It was a very unique experience, and perhaps encapsulated our whole feeling of the place.  

Even the Tanuki (shapeshifting badgers) can be found here

Paused among the gates

It was a short walk through quiet neighborhoods where cats rested on places like tombstones against the hill.  I would not be surprised if these were graves of some kind.  We saw no ghostly foxes, unfortunately, unless they had taken these feline forms.  Still, I could almost sense a presence about the whole place.    We were sad to leave and could have spent all day there, but our legs were tired from the long flights and endless paths.

The only bad part of our journey here was we had the worst meal of our trip near the shrine.  Food is scarce at Fushimi, and bathrooms, well, we won’t go into that.   It did have good ice cream in a shop on the way back to the hotel. 

That evening, I was in good spirits and not so tired, so I decided to explore.  I did a slow walk through the city, taking side streets upon side streets while trying to keep the hotel in view.  This was easier said than done.  The walkways and streets in Kyoto are a warren of narrow passages, and buildings mesh one on top of the other.  I discovered smaller shrines, quiet neighborhoods and schools where children stared at me amid their play.  

There were antique shops with prints and objects that looked so ancient that I had to stop and stare, but know I’d never afford them. I also found that there was a whole underground mall right underneath the hotel on a strip of space right below the Kyoto City Hall.  It had shops, restaurants and curiosities of all kinds.  I’d never seen so much in a space beneath a street, and I quickly came back with my parents and we had dinner there.   

It is a surreal experience dining underground knowing you have streets and buildings right on top of you.  We ordered two full helpings of spaghetti each to sate our appetites and then retired to the hotel to rest for the following day.

On the whole, Fushimi was a spiritual and very religious experience as much as it was a sightseeing one.  It was the first of many highlights of Kyoto, and it would not be the last time I visited there.  The foxes would wait for my return.