Ryushin's Recollection of Day 2-3
Pt. II
So, I mentioned that [the previous post] was the end of the first day. In truth, two days had gone by. We left San Francisco on the 29th, and crossed the Date Line into the 30th. We arose to face the proud image of the 31st. I greeted the morning in my traditional way, meditating for an hour. Jogen joined me when he awoke.
As Rob and Michael arose we decided to go on a brief tour of Myoshin-ji before breakfast. Myoshin-ji is called a temple, though it contains about fifteen other temples in its walls. Picture it like Thanksgiving dinner with your centerpiece turkey surrounded by mashed potatoes, cranberry bread, corn, and so on. Each side dish would be the equivalent of another temple, most are family-run. The big turkey would be the enormous lecture hall, Hondo (chanting hall), and Zendo all rolled into one in the center of the table/complex. What about the apple pie that tops it all off when you thought you couldn’t handle anymore? That would be realizing that you are really in Japan.
Anyway, originally there would be several temples where monks trained under different masters while existing under the general title of Myoshin-ji. Now, interest in Buddhism is declining in Japan. As a result, many temples are empty--run by families, or run by a minimal staff--leading to their state of disrepair. As we walked around in the morning, I could imagine two hundred years ago, seeing monks going to and fro about the grounds.
The importance of monasteries can still be seen in the grandeur of Myoshin-ji’s main buildings. The lecture hall, Hondo, and Zendo are located in the center of the complex. These buildings were created in 1342. They have probably burned down a few times in the last 600 + years. However, since they have been rebuilt exactly the Japanese refer to the buildings as being the same. This is one of the MANY differences between the Western and the Eastern mind.
The buildings are four to five stories high with traditional tiled roof and Chinese-style curved corners. The chanting hall is the most famous building in Myoshin-ji. It is often called the “Dragon Hall” because there is an enormous painting of a dragon on the ceiling by Kano Tanyu. Tanyu was a famous painter of dragons. The abbot of Myoshin-ji went to him and asked him to paint a dragon on the ceiling of their chanting hall. The only stipulation was that it had to be a painting of a dragon from life. Tanyu told the abbot that he had never seen a living dragon, and the zen master told him he there were many at Myoshin-ji. When the artist arrived and told the master that he couldn’t see a single dragon the master responded, “You can’t see them? What a pity.”
So, Tanyu took up sincere training with this zen master for two years. One day he told the master, “I have finally seen a dragon!” The master said, “Good, but can you tell me what its roar sounds like?” His bubble burst, Tanyu returned to his meditation. For another year Tanyu practiced diligently. In the end he painted the masterpiece that is the dragon of Myoshin-ji.
We headed back to the hotel and got there in time for breakfast. Breakfast was served on a long, low table. Often people will sit seiza (kneeling on their heels) for a whole meal. Luckily, this restaurant offered a way to cheat. There was a large hole underneath the table where one could comfortably place their feet and be sitting as if they were in a chair. Breakfast consisted of tofu, Miso soup, Rice Gruel, seaweed, a mushy version of seaweed, a piece of fish, napa cabbage, and tea. It was a fairly large meal, but as it was our first Japanese meal we were hungry for the flavors. I should mention that the Japanese do not consider seafood to be outside of the vegetarian diet. In fact, depending on who you ask, the Japanese consider very little to be outside of the vegetarian diet. In fact, there are very few Japanese vegetarians.
After we ate, we had a greeting from Chozen, Hogen, Kaz, and Jihiken. We went over the plans for the day, and gave important information about cell phone numbers. We finished our meal and gathered our belongings for the day. Hogen and another pilgrim (Onshin) were off to Kyoto station to get our rail passes validated, so Hogen enlisted me as the carrier of his robes. I was listed as Hogen’s attendant for the trip, but that means very little, as Hogen rarely asks for help. It also felt appropriate to carry around the robes before getting permission to put on robes.
We walked as a rambling pack of pilgrims down to the train station. In Japan, it is rare to see someone who is not Japanese. I imagine the 35 of us were quite a sight. Add to that the sight of westerners with bald heads and samue (Zen Buddhist clothes).
Chozen stopped the group and said, “One of the qualities of Jizo is to enter realms of suffering.” That said, she led us through a Pachinko parlor. Pachinko is a Japanese pastime that is a combination of a slot machine and pinball. It’s amazingly loud game, and often the rooms have flashing lights and are quite shiny. So, if we looked odd on the street, I can only guess that people were quite confused to see a stream of westerners wandering through this casino-like setting.
We took the local train to an area in northwest Kyoto known as Saga Arashiyama. We began walking to Adashino Nembutsu-ji. Kyoto has grown over the centuries that it has been a city. People living on the edges of the city used to bury their family members' remains in the nearby forest. As the city expanded, city builders came upon these burial markers and had to figure out a way to build around them. The response was to gather them together at several temples. In August there is a festival called Obon where people return to their home towns in order to honor their departed family members. During that time they light hundreds of candles at this temple to honor the 8,000 people who are remembered there.
As we were on our way to Adashino it began raining. Jikan and I were towards the front, and we took the stoic Zen approach and sallied forth. The rain grew harder. And the rain grew harder still. We passed by a store with some translucent thin plastic umbrellas for 300 yen (about three dollars), and we gave in to the idea of keeping dry.
Umbrellas in hand, we stepped into the street. Then the wind picked up. We retreated to a covered porch and watched as soaked pilgrims slowly came around the corner. Some had bought similar umbrellas in a variety of brilliant colors.
Together we marched on to Adashino Nembutsu-ji. Seeing the rows of stone, each with a carving of Buddha on the front, was moving. There was a section for children's markers, with a Jizo statue as the central figure. We gathered around the statue and recited the Jizo Mantra. Slowly people left for the next temple.
Located further up the way was the Otagi Nembutsu-ji. This temple is home to 1,200 “Jizos.” Jizo is very popular in Japan, but often a mistaken figure. If it’s cute and Buddhist, it’s often labeled “Jizo” when inconography specialists would wag their finger in disapproval.
Anyway, this temple also home to two Nio statues. When beings heard the Buddha's teaching and decided to become Buddhist or protectors of Buddhism, the Buddha always had a job for them to do. If they had a wife and kids, they were lay Buddhists. If they were free of--or able to--relinquish their job and family they would become monks or nuns. If they were deities they would become protectors of the teachings.
SO, the Nio were fierce deities who became protectors of temples. They stand at the gates of a temple to keep out those who would cause harm to the temple. They usually stand about one and a half to twice life size. They are usually red with big eyes and scowls. They have muscles and veins leaping from their body. Not the kind of being you’d want to have a scuffle with.
At any rate, the temple which these Nio protect was in a state of disrepair, and the priest was going to have to sell the Nio statues to a movie company in order to keep the temple. Then the priest had an idea to get over a thousand pieces of stone (about three feet hight by two feet wide and deep). He offered to have people come and carve a statue in exchange for paying a price to the temple. Now there are these 1,200 “Jizo” statues. They say that if you look you can find one that is in your own image. Believe it or not: someone found me.
By this time, we were late to lunch. The videographers got a taxi down the mountain, and the rest of us waited for the bus. When the bus came it was full (as it was still raining lightly), so only a few made it on. Chozen said she would walk back. Seeing our leader, who was 1-3 decades older than most pilgrims, we hopped to and followed her back.
The next stop was at Rinsen- ji. This temple is run by Tom Yuho Krischner, a long-time friend of Chozen and Hogen. He served us a bento (box) lunch and green tea. As we ate, he told us the story of Zen coming to Japan. He also told about Muso Soseki, the founder of his temple. He recounted more than I will here. The essence is that Tom lives in a 700 year old temple, which only looks about 200 years old…mostly.
After the show-and-tell we had a jukai ceremony. Jukai is when someone takes the Buddhist precepts, gets a new name, and receives a rakusu (zen bib) and lineage chart. The rakusu is a handmade by the person who receives it and is worn as a reminder of the vows one takes. The new name also serves as a reminder of their vows.
We gathered in a room with tatami (thick bamboo mats) and paper screens for doors. The paper was peeling from age, and covered with simple drawings of monks, most likely based on Zen stories. In the background were a chorus of cicadas ("semi," in Japanese). It was an amazing setting for the ceremony.
We did bows, chanted the Heart sutra (a fundamental Buddhist text) in Japanese, and each person was invited to take or retake the vows with Harald Schoecklman (one of our German pilgrims). Harald received his rakusu and the dharma name Yugen, which means “Courage through the mystery.”
After the ceremony, we were free to explore as we chose. Jikan, Jogen, and I headed off to look at Japanese trinkets. Alas, most of the stores were closed or closing. We did stop into a few shops before they closed, though. Outside of most stores they have umbrella racks. Often we would forget to put our umbrellas in the rack, and the rest of the time we forgot to take them out. Jogen ended up losing his umbrella this way.
We decided to go sightseeing instead. So we crossed over the river and walked along this small pathway which ran alongside the water. Occasionally bikes would stream past us. A few times, little Japanese cars came along. The road is really small, so we had to step over to the very edge to let them pass. People got a great kick out of seeing Jikan and me dressed up in our samue. I don’t think they see many nuns around (people often mistook her for Japanese), and even fewer westerners.
We headed back to the hotel after our long day, umbrellas in hand. We stopped at the Daily Yamazaki for a small dinner. Daily Yamazaki is a Japanese 7-11 where you can get Japanese fast food. Some of the yummy things include: sushi rolls with fermented soy beans, soba (buckwheat) noodles, inari (marinated tofu with rice stuffed inside), and a variety of interesting drinks including Pocari Sweat, Amino Supply, and others. Most of the food involved tofu and rice, or seaweed and rice (as far as non-meat/seafood went).
I should point out that people in Japan don’t eat while standing, and they NEVER eat while walking. People will stare in astonishment if they see you doing such a thing. The only exception is that you can stand and eat ice cream. We tried our best to fit in.
Back at the hotel we enjoyed our dinner. I enjoyed a soothing bath (a half hour was my maximum tolerance for soaking). We all meditated for a bit, and then went to bed.
Thus ended the third day.
Love,
Ryushin
So, I mentioned that [the previous post] was the end of the first day. In truth, two days had gone by. We left San Francisco on the 29th, and crossed the Date Line into the 30th. We arose to face the proud image of the 31st. I greeted the morning in my traditional way, meditating for an hour. Jogen joined me when he awoke.
As Rob and Michael arose we decided to go on a brief tour of Myoshin-ji before breakfast. Myoshin-ji is called a temple, though it contains about fifteen other temples in its walls. Picture it like Thanksgiving dinner with your centerpiece turkey surrounded by mashed potatoes, cranberry bread, corn, and so on. Each side dish would be the equivalent of another temple, most are family-run. The big turkey would be the enormous lecture hall, Hondo (chanting hall), and Zendo all rolled into one in the center of the table/complex. What about the apple pie that tops it all off when you thought you couldn’t handle anymore? That would be realizing that you are really in Japan.
Anyway, originally there would be several temples where monks trained under different masters while existing under the general title of Myoshin-ji. Now, interest in Buddhism is declining in Japan. As a result, many temples are empty--run by families, or run by a minimal staff--leading to their state of disrepair. As we walked around in the morning, I could imagine two hundred years ago, seeing monks going to and fro about the grounds.
The importance of monasteries can still be seen in the grandeur of Myoshin-ji’s main buildings. The lecture hall, Hondo, and Zendo are located in the center of the complex. These buildings were created in 1342. They have probably burned down a few times in the last 600 + years. However, since they have been rebuilt exactly the Japanese refer to the buildings as being the same. This is one of the MANY differences between the Western and the Eastern mind.
The buildings are four to five stories high with traditional tiled roof and Chinese-style curved corners. The chanting hall is the most famous building in Myoshin-ji. It is often called the “Dragon Hall” because there is an enormous painting of a dragon on the ceiling by Kano Tanyu. Tanyu was a famous painter of dragons. The abbot of Myoshin-ji went to him and asked him to paint a dragon on the ceiling of their chanting hall. The only stipulation was that it had to be a painting of a dragon from life. Tanyu told the abbot that he had never seen a living dragon, and the zen master told him he there were many at Myoshin-ji. When the artist arrived and told the master that he couldn’t see a single dragon the master responded, “You can’t see them? What a pity.”
So, Tanyu took up sincere training with this zen master for two years. One day he told the master, “I have finally seen a dragon!” The master said, “Good, but can you tell me what its roar sounds like?” His bubble burst, Tanyu returned to his meditation. For another year Tanyu practiced diligently. In the end he painted the masterpiece that is the dragon of Myoshin-ji.
We headed back to the hotel and got there in time for breakfast. Breakfast was served on a long, low table. Often people will sit seiza (kneeling on their heels) for a whole meal. Luckily, this restaurant offered a way to cheat. There was a large hole underneath the table where one could comfortably place their feet and be sitting as if they were in a chair. Breakfast consisted of tofu, Miso soup, Rice Gruel, seaweed, a mushy version of seaweed, a piece of fish, napa cabbage, and tea. It was a fairly large meal, but as it was our first Japanese meal we were hungry for the flavors. I should mention that the Japanese do not consider seafood to be outside of the vegetarian diet. In fact, depending on who you ask, the Japanese consider very little to be outside of the vegetarian diet. In fact, there are very few Japanese vegetarians.
After we ate, we had a greeting from Chozen, Hogen, Kaz, and Jihiken. We went over the plans for the day, and gave important information about cell phone numbers. We finished our meal and gathered our belongings for the day. Hogen and another pilgrim (Onshin) were off to Kyoto station to get our rail passes validated, so Hogen enlisted me as the carrier of his robes. I was listed as Hogen’s attendant for the trip, but that means very little, as Hogen rarely asks for help. It also felt appropriate to carry around the robes before getting permission to put on robes.
We walked as a rambling pack of pilgrims down to the train station. In Japan, it is rare to see someone who is not Japanese. I imagine the 35 of us were quite a sight. Add to that the sight of westerners with bald heads and samue (Zen Buddhist clothes).
Chozen stopped the group and said, “One of the qualities of Jizo is to enter realms of suffering.” That said, she led us through a Pachinko parlor. Pachinko is a Japanese pastime that is a combination of a slot machine and pinball. It’s amazingly loud game, and often the rooms have flashing lights and are quite shiny. So, if we looked odd on the street, I can only guess that people were quite confused to see a stream of westerners wandering through this casino-like setting.
We took the local train to an area in northwest Kyoto known as Saga Arashiyama. We began walking to Adashino Nembutsu-ji. Kyoto has grown over the centuries that it has been a city. People living on the edges of the city used to bury their family members' remains in the nearby forest. As the city expanded, city builders came upon these burial markers and had to figure out a way to build around them. The response was to gather them together at several temples. In August there is a festival called Obon where people return to their home towns in order to honor their departed family members. During that time they light hundreds of candles at this temple to honor the 8,000 people who are remembered there.
As we were on our way to Adashino it began raining. Jikan and I were towards the front, and we took the stoic Zen approach and sallied forth. The rain grew harder. And the rain grew harder still. We passed by a store with some translucent thin plastic umbrellas for 300 yen (about three dollars), and we gave in to the idea of keeping dry.
Umbrellas in hand, we stepped into the street. Then the wind picked up. We retreated to a covered porch and watched as soaked pilgrims slowly came around the corner. Some had bought similar umbrellas in a variety of brilliant colors.
Together we marched on to Adashino Nembutsu-ji. Seeing the rows of stone, each with a carving of Buddha on the front, was moving. There was a section for children's markers, with a Jizo statue as the central figure. We gathered around the statue and recited the Jizo Mantra. Slowly people left for the next temple.
Located further up the way was the Otagi Nembutsu-ji. This temple is home to 1,200 “Jizos.” Jizo is very popular in Japan, but often a mistaken figure. If it’s cute and Buddhist, it’s often labeled “Jizo” when inconography specialists would wag their finger in disapproval.
Anyway, this temple also home to two Nio statues. When beings heard the Buddha's teaching and decided to become Buddhist or protectors of Buddhism, the Buddha always had a job for them to do. If they had a wife and kids, they were lay Buddhists. If they were free of--or able to--relinquish their job and family they would become monks or nuns. If they were deities they would become protectors of the teachings.
SO, the Nio were fierce deities who became protectors of temples. They stand at the gates of a temple to keep out those who would cause harm to the temple. They usually stand about one and a half to twice life size. They are usually red with big eyes and scowls. They have muscles and veins leaping from their body. Not the kind of being you’d want to have a scuffle with.
At any rate, the temple which these Nio protect was in a state of disrepair, and the priest was going to have to sell the Nio statues to a movie company in order to keep the temple. Then the priest had an idea to get over a thousand pieces of stone (about three feet hight by two feet wide and deep). He offered to have people come and carve a statue in exchange for paying a price to the temple. Now there are these 1,200 “Jizo” statues. They say that if you look you can find one that is in your own image. Believe it or not: someone found me.
By this time, we were late to lunch. The videographers got a taxi down the mountain, and the rest of us waited for the bus. When the bus came it was full (as it was still raining lightly), so only a few made it on. Chozen said she would walk back. Seeing our leader, who was 1-3 decades older than most pilgrims, we hopped to and followed her back.
The next stop was at Rinsen- ji. This temple is run by Tom Yuho Krischner, a long-time friend of Chozen and Hogen. He served us a bento (box) lunch and green tea. As we ate, he told us the story of Zen coming to Japan. He also told about Muso Soseki, the founder of his temple. He recounted more than I will here. The essence is that Tom lives in a 700 year old temple, which only looks about 200 years old…mostly.
After the show-and-tell we had a jukai ceremony. Jukai is when someone takes the Buddhist precepts, gets a new name, and receives a rakusu (zen bib) and lineage chart. The rakusu is a handmade by the person who receives it and is worn as a reminder of the vows one takes. The new name also serves as a reminder of their vows.
We gathered in a room with tatami (thick bamboo mats) and paper screens for doors. The paper was peeling from age, and covered with simple drawings of monks, most likely based on Zen stories. In the background were a chorus of cicadas ("semi," in Japanese). It was an amazing setting for the ceremony.
We did bows, chanted the Heart sutra (a fundamental Buddhist text) in Japanese, and each person was invited to take or retake the vows with Harald Schoecklman (one of our German pilgrims). Harald received his rakusu and the dharma name Yugen, which means “Courage through the mystery.”
After the ceremony, we were free to explore as we chose. Jikan, Jogen, and I headed off to look at Japanese trinkets. Alas, most of the stores were closed or closing. We did stop into a few shops before they closed, though. Outside of most stores they have umbrella racks. Often we would forget to put our umbrellas in the rack, and the rest of the time we forgot to take them out. Jogen ended up losing his umbrella this way.
We decided to go sightseeing instead. So we crossed over the river and walked along this small pathway which ran alongside the water. Occasionally bikes would stream past us. A few times, little Japanese cars came along. The road is really small, so we had to step over to the very edge to let them pass. People got a great kick out of seeing Jikan and me dressed up in our samue. I don’t think they see many nuns around (people often mistook her for Japanese), and even fewer westerners.
We headed back to the hotel after our long day, umbrellas in hand. We stopped at the Daily Yamazaki for a small dinner. Daily Yamazaki is a Japanese 7-11 where you can get Japanese fast food. Some of the yummy things include: sushi rolls with fermented soy beans, soba (buckwheat) noodles, inari (marinated tofu with rice stuffed inside), and a variety of interesting drinks including Pocari Sweat, Amino Supply, and others. Most of the food involved tofu and rice, or seaweed and rice (as far as non-meat/seafood went).
I should point out that people in Japan don’t eat while standing, and they NEVER eat while walking. People will stare in astonishment if they see you doing such a thing. The only exception is that you can stand and eat ice cream. We tried our best to fit in.
Back at the hotel we enjoyed our dinner. I enjoyed a soothing bath (a half hour was my maximum tolerance for soaking). We all meditated for a bit, and then went to bed.
Thus ended the third day.
Love,
Ryushin
posted at 1:44 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home