The birthday of The Emperor Meiji, direct descendant of the sun goddess Ameratsu and political powerhouse of the way-back-when. The only person who knew this factoid? My coordinator. The holiday's just called "Culture Day", and much like Presidents' Day in the states nobody really knows what the significance is other than polysci majors and history buffs. In remembrance of said Emperor (and in thanks for another day off of school), a few friends from my Japanese class and I went to Nara to see the sights.
Real quickly, before we get into that, I went to a "live house" on Wednesday night. It's the Japanese version of an Open Mic night- got to see a few of my native friends rock out. On the way, I snapped this picture of Ritto Station at sunset.
Impressed the heck out of me- some sunsets are just plain pretty. That aside- a "Live House" differs from an Open Mic Night in two ways. One, everyone knows each other tangentially. All of the social circles intersect, so everyone in the room is someone's friend of a friend. The other is that while an open mic night is impromptu, a live house is planned- the bands that want to play let the housemaster know they're interested, the housemaster drafts a schedule, and the schedule is stuck to like glue. As such, the night is "themed"- the schedule mixes up the musical styles so that (like with all Japanese endeavors) a very specific blend of tastes results. If your band has the same musical setup as another band, the two of you play at opposite ends of the schedule- as such, everybody gets to shine. What, then, is so interesting about going to a live house?
The banter. The live house marks the first time I have ever, in my life, been called "Gaijin-San." That's right- "Dirty Foreigner" with an honorific "Mr." tacked onto the end. Mr. Dirty Foreigner enjoyed the heck out of that.
So let's talk Nara. Nara has three sights that everyone agrees one must see before they die. The first, and most ubiquitous, are the deer. I thought, previous to visiting Nara, that they were an exaggerated quantity- that perhaps they were merely in the shrine, behind fences and whatnot. I was wrong- these guys roam the streets with impudence, a voracious appetite, and as far as I can tell a definite sense of entitlement. They know they're holy deer. They exploit this fact.
They hang out in the park.
They hang out with the foreigners.
They walk among their people like little vacuum cleaners, sucking up treats and handouts. They're so ubiquitous that people don't pay them any mind- these large, possibly dangerous animals are allowed to frolic with children.
So, of course, I bought some sembe (rice crackers, 100 yen for a set of ten) to feed them. Everyone in my crew did. Within moments, we were surrounded by hungry deer who had no intention of waiting for us to parcel out the sembe- they wanted the goods NOW. One tried to eat my leather jacket, only to find that it's made out of a cousin of theirs- he backed off, as every animal instinctively hates cannibalism.
I hope.
Now, the thing about these deer is that when I say they're everywhere, I really mean they're everywhere. While we were walking to Nara Sight #2, we passed a souvenir shop whose doors were open to let in the cool autumn air. A deer wandered up, decided it liked what they were selling, and walked right in to have a look around. The shopkeep has evidently faced this problem before- she just laughed, and let the deer wander in and out among the various brightly-colored cartoon characters and three-foot long dangerously sharp metal swords.
Yeah. A souvenir shop. Should one desire a Nara blade, it'll run one about $60 USD. Like me, you probably thought swords were illegal in Japan. Like me, you were wrong.
The previously mentioned Sight #2 is the Great Buddha of Nara- the largest metal Buddha in Japan. He's huge. Even his temple guardians are super-sized- these guys usually measure in at nine feet tall at the biggest.
This is the other one- these two statues flank the entrance to the outer courtyard of the temple.
Once inside the outer courtyard, there's a short walk to the inner gate. Between the giant fearsome guardian statues and the inner gate to the temple, there is...
A souvenir shop. This stall sells (from left to right) Japanese-flag headbands, towels emblazoned with popular Japanese cartoon characters, stuffed multicolor deer, and Anpanman toys. Note to the western world: Anpanman is another everpresent Japanese icon- think Hello Kitty- that really doesn't have HK's international appeal. Anpanman is a superhero- a "justice hero", or so the logo tells me- who is in fact a walking, talking bread advertisement. Anpan is a bread roll with a chunk of red bean paste in the middle. Yum.
If you make it past that particular treat without being rebuffed (endure!), you're granted a view something like this:
This is the largest wooden structure in the world. Period. The sign said so, and I believe everything the signs tell me. Neither signs nor TV can ever lie.
Inside this largest wooden structure in the world is a REALLY BIG BUDDHA. There are bigger, no doubt- the Great Buddha of Leshan comes to mind (it's carved in the face of a cliff overlooking a river, and as such is big enough that 100 people can stand on one of it's feet) but this Buddha ain't screwin' around in the hugeness department.
It's verifiably gigantic. It's also flanked by two smaller statues which those of you who paid attention in Eastern Religion class will recognize as the Goddess Kannon (yup, both of 'em- that's Buddhism for ya!) and the rest of you will recognize as "ridiculously big". They are in turn flanked by more statues of the Fearsome Generals we saw outside.
These pictures do not do the Great Buddha Statue justice, as it is so big there's really no way to cram reference into the frame. For some idea of the scope (and an interesting cultural note), there's a pillar behind the Buddha with a one-foot by two-foot rectangular hole cut through it. This hole is the size of one of the Buddha's nostrils. Children (and any foreigner crazy enough to try it) who squeeze through this hole are said to be guaranteed a long and peaceful life.I am a bit too big to wedge myself up the Buddha's nose- and that's not for lack of trying, I might add. My American shoulders are a bit too oversized for the task.
After the Great Buddha, we decided to hit up both sides of the Japanese Religion textbook and go visit a Shinto shrine- the shrine in Nara is fairly famous as a stopping point for the festival of "Shichigosan". Shichigosan is a festival in Japan for seven (shichi) year old, five (go) year old, and three (san) year old children, in which they are dressed in traditional clothing (kimono and what appear to be little samurai outfits) and marched down to the local Shinto shrine to be blessed. The blessing is ALWAYS for two things- to thank the gods that the child has lived this long and to wish for health and height. Both health and height have about equal importance- it's a package deal.
So we saw the kids, all dressed up, and it was in fact one of the cutest things I've ever seen. A little five-year-old boy, in full samurai regalia, walked by me and it was INCREDIBLY HARD not to bow to him. Incredibly.
The shrine itself can best be described as "Fairytale" in character. The forests around here are crazy enough as it is- the trees never grow straight, the vines erupt from the ground and flail about, and there's no grass- just moss- but the addition of shrines and bridges make it a really amazing view.
Speaking of amazing:
click on the picture for a full-size version.That's some quality hyperbole, there. I had to take a picture. This is a vending machine halfway up the fairytale trail in the previous pictures. Out of place? Maybe. Hilarious? Definitely.
After the shrine and the icecream, we went for a stroll in the shopping district. There are two things of note in the shopping district. One is Shika-no-Fun. Shika means deer. Fun means droppings. This "Shika-No-Fun" is a popular chocolate candy made in Nara- I'm not kidding- that looks exactly like it's namesake. They're chocolate covered mochi (rice cake) filled with chocolate creme. It's delicious enough that the name is only a momentary deterrent.
The other item of note is the mochi itself. They still make mochi the traditional way- mochi is mashed rice cooked until it's a sticky cakelike consistency- and in order to do that, you need three guys holding five-foot-long hammers standing around a big bowl of rice and water. They rhythmically beat the mochi into submission, and then switch out so that one guy continues to mash the rice with powerful strikes of his hammer while another guy folds the mochi onto itself with his bare hands. I thought for sure someone was going to lose an arm.
After that, we returned to Nara station and hopped back on the train to head home. Here are two of my partners in crime posing in Kyoto Station:
Today, at school, I got to visit the Portroom. Japan has a truancy problem, like every other country with compulsory schooling, but their "school refusers" stay home for different reasons. Since you can generally act however you want at school, it's no big pain to attend- the bad kids always do- but kids with mild learning disabilities (in this case, autism and Asperger's Syndrome) are often singled out by their peers and bullied. As such, they don't come to school. My current school has a solution- the Portroom. Port as in "safe", this room is an alternate homeroom for kids who wouldn't come to school under other circumstances. We teach private lessons here- it's quite possible that these special-needs kids get a better education than anybody else in the school. It's important to note that these Portroom kids aren't special-ed kids- we've got three classes of more obviously severely impaired kids of four children each, but their peers leave those kids alone, as they qualify for their own class and as such aren't an aberration in the in-group- no bullying happens there. It's the kids that would have otherwise fallen through the cracks that go to the Portroom. So I gave my little introduction, and they caught almost everything I said. As mentioned, they're smart cookies, and they're definitely benefitting from the tiny class size and no-pressure approach.
After school, the group that went to Birmingham returned to Ritto City Hall to an assembly of parents and teachers waiting to welcome them home. I was, of course, among them. The welcome ceremony- like every ceremony- is a well-scripted event. We stood on the steps as the bus pulled in, holding "Welcome Home" banners and applauding enthusiastically. The female teachers continued to hold the banners while the male teachers helped the students with their luggage and escorted them to a chunk of sidewalk, where all the kids dutifully sat down and waited. Then, the speeches began- first, a speech from a representative of the board of Education, welcoming them back. Then, a speech from one of the teachers who went to America, explaining to us (the assembled) the purpose of the goodwill mission and expressing that it was a success- mentioning a few of the things the students did, like visiting the Henry Ford museum and taking part in a Halloween "culture festival"- the translation is inexact. Then the superintendent came up, and gave a speech approving of the trip and declaring it productive, and welcoming the students and teachers back to the city of Ritto. Then, a student representative got up and made a speech about the trip that was essentially identical to the teacher representative's speech. After all of these speeches, the last one was by a member of the Board who thanked everyone for coming to welcome the students, thanked the students for their hard work, and ended the ceremony with a round of applause and bowing. Throughout the ceremony, we bowed to each of the speakers at the beginning and end, varying the depth and frequency of bow for the rank of the speaker in question.
Confused yet?
Yeah. Me too.
At the end, I got a chance to chat with a few of the students, who excitedly showed me pictures (of my dad, no less!) and souvenirs. A teacher was especially impressed with his souvenir: a U of M tie that plays "Hail to the Victors" when you press a hidden button. Listening to your coworker explain in excited Japanese the concept of college football rivalries to your other amazed coworkers is cool, but watching a group of students literally break down in tears of joy when they describe the things they did and how happy they are to have gone is even cooler. I'm definitely going to have to pull these kids aside when I see them at work on Monday- they doubtelssly have some great stories to tell.
Provided, of course, I can manage to understand what they're saying.
Pax
1 comment:
Personally I happen to like red bean paste in buns. I think it tastes good. Sounds like those deer are out of control. The temple was deffinatly very cool. Is the everyday food good?
Lauren
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