This morning Keith and I got up for the Otsutome (Buddhist service) at 6.30am. Unsurprisingly the children did not wake up.
The service took place in the temple and was well attended by tourists. 3 monks led the service, with one obviously in charge. For nearly 30 minutes they chanted continuously with one covering the breaths of the other and joining back in as soon as they had breathed. I was very impressed with their breath control which told of much practice They used gongs and cymbals as well. At one point, the congregation were invited to come forward to pray for their ancestors.
At the back of the temple on the left, a younger monk held a book up and mouthed the words to the chants for the entire ceremony. His arms must have ached by the end.
We learnt last night that many of the monks are temple children. This means their dad is a married monk and they are expected (if they want to) to leave home to train and then return to take over the duties of their father in the temple he runs. I am not sure their definition of a monk gels completely with ours – these monks drink beer, can get married and generally seem to have a pretty relaxed time!
After the service, we went to another small temple for a fire ceremony. This is where the small and thin pieces of wood that people write their prayers on get burnt ceremonially. This occasion was rammed because the building was so much smaller.
As the burning and drum banging continued (I am glad that I only had one beer last night), the building filled with smoke from the top down and our clothes and hair absorbed all the woody smoke smell.
I loved the way they built the fire: supports across the top of the bowl with struts across that. Then they piled a massive number of prayer sticks on top and added oil and sprinkles to the conflagration. The ideal job for a pyromaniac! I was jealous of the burning job but not the drum banging job. He chanted and banged solidly for 30 minutes. It is a good job that it is cooler up here. It looked exhausting.
At the end of the ceremony, the congregation were invited to stand up and waft the smoke at themselves. Keith’s entire head was engulfed by the layer of smoke covering the ceiling so we didn’t bother wafting extra.
The monk in charge said thanks for coming and various other stuff in Japanese at the end of each ceremony. This took about 2-3 minutes, then he asked everyone to stand up in English. It was comical for some reason, as if all the Japanese he had spoken could be translated into three English words.
Our room was within 6 feet of the back of the fire ceremony temple and yet our precious moppets had managed to sleep through the whole thing! We roused them ever so gently (by throwing open the outside doors and taking photos of them in their pits) and got them up for breakfast. There was some confusion about where we should be…. when I sent to check I was told to wait in our room, but when the monk came to fetch us 40 minutes later, he asked why we weren’t in breakfast. Anyway it was cold so it didn’t really matter and mostly inedible to the children. Keith and I are now up to eating anything (vegetarian) anyway.
Our plan for the day was not complex. We wanted to go back to the cemetery we walked around last night in the day and watch the 10.30am meal offering for Koba Daishi. We set off after doing a bit of washing ( I did get a bit of help with how to use the machine but it was very straightforward) and getting Mila’s book inscribed, and then wandered into the graveyard.
This might sound a bit macabre, but it doesn’t have the feeling of a graveyard like we are used to. That might be because I can’t read any of the inscriptions of eulogies, but it feels very calming and peaceful. Oh and there are about 400,000 souls laid at rest there!
It was a little bit busy, but not as bad as I had expected. We think that most people only stay here for one night and as they have to check out at 10am, a lot of them had already gone.
We got to watch the food offering and stayed for the beginning of the service, but then we went to look at the building where they keep the spare lanterns. Your are absolutely NOT allowed to take photos. My husband is not good at following rules… as you all know. Thus the photos. [EDIT Keith: I can’t read Japanese warnings not to take photos, even the symbols of cameras with a red cross through – these are obviously Japanese script of some kind, note to self – must learn Japanese writing…]
It is an amazing place when you consider that the smallest lantern costs 100,000 Yen (about £700), a lot of money has been paid by believers to have their ancestors prayed for. It is also absolutely beautiful. Each lamp has the message etched onto the metal and the light inside (thank God it is electric so little risk of fire) shines through it making the most beautiful patterns. Of course, to the Japanese it is just writing, but to me it is beautiful. I can still only read about 10 Hiragana letters, so I am quite a way off being able to work out what any of them say.
When Keith had taken a thousand photos and the kids had skipped about and washed many statues (you can ask them why!) we hopped on a bus to the other end of town. This is the historical area, although the town has apparently had no less than 5 lightening strikes and burnt down almost entirely.
Now, if I was a religious person and the place I lived and worked kept burning down in what can only be considered an act of God, I might decide to move. Apparently that has not occurred to any of the people living here as they keep rebuilding. It must just be me.
We then visited the main temple of Esoteric Buddhism: Kongobuji , which has the biggest rock garden (raked gravel) in Japan and gives out sweet rice cakes and green tea. Mila got another stamp in her collectors book and Danny raced around, making the most of the cooler weather that means he can run about like a luatic as he normally does.
There is a character on signs and posters everywhere in Koyasan and his name is written in Hiragana. I decided to use my new found skills (and Google) to work out what he was called. I managed 4 out of 6 characters and then had to stop a Japanese couple to ask about the last one. It turned out that my bloody chart had more than one page and I was nowhere near as far through the learning process as I had hoped. Anyway, I did end up with the characters name:
Ko u ya ku n.
After I had recovered from using so much of my brain power, we had our free snack and saw Nobu doing a tour. He recognised us and said hello which made Danny very happy.
We also went to Danjo Garan which houses a number of temples and old buildings. There was one (with only a Japanese explanation, so I have no idea what it was) that had a kind of rotating belt around it with handles. The children, and some other small people, got behind the handles and pushed it around. All the Japanese adults smiled approvingly so it must have been the correct thing to do. We may never know why. Mila suggested it was a coffee grinder?! Another temple had coins balanced on their edges and the children pestered me to help them balance one. Again, no idea why!!
After an insubstantial breakfast (even for those of us who actually ate it!), we were all hungry, so Keith broke the habit of a lifetime and let us go into the first restaurant that we saw to feast on katsu curry and pork escalope. We all wanted meat! It was yummy and filled the children’s tummies with recognisable food. The gentleman who took our money at the end of the meal spoke excellent, if old fashioned English.
While we were waiting for our food, Mila decided to rest her chin on Keith’s hand as she had run out of energy. Then she randomly started singing “amazing face….” to the tune of the hymn. We literally have no idea what she is going to do next.
My favourite outfit of the day was a man in a t-shirt with a zebra motif paired with stripy trousers. I don’t even think it was deliberate. Classy nonetheless.
It is at least 10 degrees cooler in the mountains and it has been so nice to walk around and not be constantly planning where we can buy more liquid and how we can get into air conditioning… which is a good thing as the temple doesn’t have any.
Apparently, I am not the only one looking forward to getting back to their own bed. Today we saw an entire family asleep on a bench outside the FamilyMart. The little boy was spreadeagled on his dad’s chest and the mum was collapsed sideways on the suitcase. I am guessing they had a bad night.
We bought some water and mid afternoon snacks and then made our way back to the temple lodging for a rest. We had planned to get the bus, but the timings were such that it was easier to walk and we ended up with a quick, free look in a local art gallery where they gave us a present.
Mila managed to drop her chewing gum on the floor while panicking about a gigantic ant that was scurrying around on her leg, but otherwise the afternoon was quite relaxed. Only normal levels of bickering were experienced.
I took myself off to the meditation again but didn’t manage to get into the zone as successfully today. I will have to practice when I get home, even if I can never get my legs into that position.
Tea was mostly edible again although uninspiring. I don’t like cold tempura and the nasty goma-dofu (very smooth sesame seed tofu) is not going to make it onto my favourite food list. [EDIT Keith: It’s like congealed cat sick]
It was an entertaining meal, as on the other side of the paper screen was a coach load (I am not exaggerating as I saw the coach!) of Italians. They were very noisy and made very odd noises as they ate. The monks brought their beers in long handled milk carriers and there were plenty of trips.
The poached and peeled figs were my favourite and I got two as Mila didn’t like hers. We are still all having problems with the texture of some things. And why they feel it necessary to dip pears in salt water, I will never understand. Every time the poor children think they are going to get some fruit, they have messed with it in some critical way: pickling or salting it. Just no need.
Keith and I went back to the cemetery at dusk to try and catch a glimpse of the elusive squirrels. It was very quiet and it was a pleasant walk to the end and back. We didn’t see a squirrel fly, but we did hear the noisiest cicadas so far (apparently they only live for one day as they use up so much energy making all that racket).
On the way back it was mostly dark and we heard the squirrels chattering and saw one moving about in the trees high above our heads. I was satisfied with that as a sighting so I finally let Keith head back to the temple.
Our last day of sightseeing is done. Now we just have to travel over 500km back to Tokyo tomorrow to catch our flight home.