A Japanese Cemetery

Photo 1: pails and ladles used for carrying water to clean memorial markers at cemeteries

Photos 2 and 3: the sotoba, or tablets of the dead, placed beside some Japanese gravestones

Photo 4: a memorial with recently placed flowers, candle, and incense sticks

The Japanese typically cremate their dead, and the ashes of the deceased are inurned at Buddhist temples, not Shinto shrines. The total cost of plot and marker can easily run to more than 1 million yen, or 10 thousand dollars. And if one wants to ensure that the deceased receive regular memorial services for up to 100 years from contemporary and future generations of monks and acolytes, better prepare to fork over an additional million yen- death is an expensive (and lucrative) business here in Japan. Fortunately there is this consolation: only one marker per patrilineal family branch is required; all immediate members of a given family are "interred" in the same memorial. The Japanese delight in summertime chill-inducing ghost stories, so I took the following photos (with my inexpensive Japanese digital point-and-shoot) at dusk.

The Hokkaido Countryside

If you say to yourself as you look at these photos, "That doesn't look like Japan", you echo my own observations. As the shots of scenic as well as urban Hokkaido show, the prefecture is like no other in Japan. Hokkaido's uniqueness is one of the reasons I so like it. But Hokkaido, like the rest of the country, has its active volcanoes- one of them (with volcanic gas issuing from its flank), Showa Shin-zan, appears in the bottommost picture.

More Otaru Photos

The photos show street views of my favorite city in Japan, Otaru, Hokkaido. I've been to Nara, Kyoto, Kamakura, and Hakodate, all of them better known than Otaru as cities of cultural and historical importance, but in my view none ranks with the latter in the picturesque, an aesthetic value in short supply in most of urban Japan.

Miscellaneous Photos: Otaru, Hokkaido

Otaru, Hokkaido, is the most architecturally interesting city I have visited in Japan, not excluding Kyoto. Otaru's Historic District is extensive and contains dozens of buildings, preserved by local ordinance, dating from 1900-1930. Though some are abandoned and in disrepair, many are home to thriving commercial establishments. Sapporo stone is usually used for the exterior of these structures, while wood is employed for the frame.

Akuseki Island: A Sad Story from 1944

Photo 1: the Tsushimamaru

Photo 2: some of the passengers aboard the ill-fated Tsushimamaru

Photo 3: a young girl praying at a memorial for the victims

Photo 4: the Tsushimamaru, located in 1997

Photo 5: the Bowfin at a memorial park of the same name in Honolulu

It was 1944. The tide had turned for the Japanese, and it was increasingly clear that the question was not whether U.S. ground forces would land on Japanese soil, but rather when. Saipan had fallen to the Allies, and an invasion of Okinawa seemed inevitable. During the spring and early summer of that year civilians and military personnel alike worked feverishly to prepare the island's defenses. Their studies suspended, schoolchildren were assigned to work details constructing bunkers and barracks. The Japanese authorities were considering evacuating as many as 1,000,000 women and children from the island: 80% were to be relocated to the mainland, with the remaining 20% to be sent to Taiwan. For a number of reasons the plans never materialized, among them being the belief that Japan could repulse the invaders. However, in July of 1944, rumors began circulating that an evacuation of the schoolchildren would finally take place. The military presence on Okinawa was being increased, and the authorities did not want precious resources to be used to support a civilian population that, in the event of invasion, would be unable to provide armed assistance. Thus it was that on August 21, 1944, the Tsushimamaru, a 6,500 ton cargo ship commissioned for the evacuation, steamed out of the harbor of Naha, Okinawa. On board were 1, 788 passengers and crew. Their destination: Nagasaki. The 5 ship convoy of which the Tsushimamaru was part comprised military vessels as well, and the following day the group was spotted by the U.S. submarine Bowfin. Apparently the sub did not recognize the Tsushimamaru for what it was, though contemporary photos clearly show a ship without armaments of any kind. The passenger ship adopted evasive measures to elude the Bowfin, but to no avail. Between 10:00 and 10:30 pm, August, 1944, the Tsushimamaru was struck by a torpedo fired from the Bowfin. Of the 1,788 passengers on board, 1418, including 767 children, perished in waters some 10k from Akuseki Island, Kagoshima. Only 59 children survived the attack.

Good Eclipse Viewing from Bad Rock Island

Akuseki (Bad Rock) Island has seen its population of 77 more than triple in recent days as astronomy buffs from around the world seek the best location to view the July 22 solar eclipse, which from the vantage of the island will be total. If the weather cooperates, the eclipse will be visible from the island for 6 minutes and 25 seconds (nowhere longer), making Akuseki an ideal eclipse-watching spot . One has to be serious about eclipses, though, to make the journey to the island. It is an 11 hour ferry journey from the port of Kagoshima, on the island of Kyushu, and service is only twice weekly. There is accomodation for 66 guests at the island's 5 inns, meaning most visitors will have to stay in tents pitched for the celestial event, which falls during Japan's monsoon season. But a total solar eclipse will not be visible from Japan again this century, and indeed it has been 46 years since the previous. Japan's public broadcaster, NHK, sent a camera crew to film the welcome ceremonies for the first arrivals. There was a performance by all 9 students at the island's sole school (K-grade 9) beautifully singing the village song and introducing the visitors to the island and its customs.

Japanese Health Care

One of the things Japan (and 35 other nations, for that matter) does better than the U.S. is health care. I came down with pneumonia several years ago and had to visit the clinic of the family doctor, a kindly general practitioner, twice a day for ten days, an hour and a half each time, for an IV drip. On Sunday, the clinic's day of rest, the doctor himself opened the office and administered the IV. When fully recovered I was presented with a bill for the office visits. Including the prescription medicine I had received during treatment, the total came to less than the equivalent of $200. I pay roughly $100 dollars a month to insure myself, my wife, and my three children. Whenever one of my loved ones feels ill, s/he visits the doctor, and the bill never exceeds $15, prescription medicine included. My children were born in Japanese hospitals, and my wife, like most Japanese mothers, spent a week in the maternity ward- some women stay for as long as two weeks. Our out-of-pocket expense? Nothing. That's right, $0. We were reimbursed by the city for the entire cost. Socialized medicine allows Japanese corporations such as Toyota to be more profitable than their American competitors. Indeed, former Chrysler chairman Lee Iacocca once quipped that GM spent more on employee health care (because the U.S. has no national health scheme) than it did on steel. As an American expat, I hope that my country can learn something from Japan, my adopted home.

A Tale of Two Countries

Earlier this year the major Japanese investment house Nomura Securities announced disastrous quarterly results. As a result, the company said, none of its employees would receive a bonus, and further, those responsible for the massive losses would face significant salary cuts. Contrast the sense of corporate and personal responsibility shown by the Japanese with the shameless, criminal behavior of their American counterparts. Months ago Wall Street's so-called "Masters of the Universe" were awarding themselves and their cronies tens of millions in "performance" bonuses and spending lavishly on office redecoration even as their firms were hurtling towards insolvency and collectively receiving trillions of dollars in taxpayer money (in what should be called The Great American Swindle). At a time when U.S. unemployment is officially near the 10% mark and real joblessness is considerably higher, when lines at food kitchens and other charities have grown dramatically, when poor residents of cash-strapped states are seeing their medical and other benefits slashed, when children are going hungry, one of the biggest recipients of taxpayer money, AIG, a firm at the heart of the global financial meltdown, has the chutzpah to announce it is planning a round of bonus payments for its employees. What? Japan has much to teach those besotted with rugged individualism and drunk on social Darwinism about group responsibility, of the true meaning of society and community. Ironic, isn't it, that Japan, a nation of Buddhists and Shintoists, should have created a society much closer to that envisioned by Christ than the U.S., with its millions of Christians.

Zen Master Ryokan- The "Great Fool"

Taigu Ryokan (1758-1831) is one of Japan's best-loved mendicant Zen monks and poet-calligraphers. The topmost photo shows a memorial erected at his birthplace in Izumozaki, Niigata.

Most of his life was spent far from the madding crowd in Echigo Province, as Niigata Prefecture was known in his day, an area of fertile rice fields and rich fisheries some 350km from the capital, Edo, as Tokyo was then called.

According to Minakami Tsutomu, writing in 1984, "Wordly people call him different things: fool, wise man, idiot, man of the Way. He never flatters the rich and important, nor disdains the poor and humble. He isn't happy when he gets things or sad when he loses them. He just goes along, natural, relaxed, a man who has transcended the dust of the world." Maxims to live by, I think.

The daily Niigata Nippo newspaper publishes on its front page a poem by Ryokan every day. There are "In the Footsteps of Ryokan" tours offered by towns and villages through which he was wont to pass, begging for alms. The hut in which he spent the latter part of his life is preserved and annually receives thousands of visitors from all over Japan.

That the Japanese lavish so much attention on poets and writers is one of the things I love about the country.

A 1,200-year-old Spa Village

On a recent Saturday Don Speden (of 3speedtouringinjapan.blogspot.com) and I went to the spa village Deyu, whose name means literally "hot water coming out". We first paid a visit to Seikokan, a spa hotel that was established over 300 years ago (pictured at bottom) and met the gracious English speaking daughter and extended family of the current owner. Don and I then bathed for about 2$ at the nearby public bath, shown in the topmost photo ( an unprepossessing facility, I'll be the first to admit) . There were 13 of us men packed into a 40 degree Celsius (cool for Japan) bath the size of a middling jacuzzi. Most of our companions were retirees, and they did not exhibit any discomfort regarding our presence. I am aware that discrimination exists in Japan-indeed, no country is free of it- but some expats, most notably naturalized Japanese Arudo Debito, go out of their way to meet it. In any case, the second photo shows a fiendishly grinning monk, identity and purpose unknown, outside the main temple in Deyu Village.

"I Hate 'Big Brother'": The Daily Kanji

Police in Toyohashi City, Aichi Prefecture, say they have arrested a minor suspected of damaging police direct-dial emergency telephones and vending machines installed with anti-theft sensors. The 19-year-old has reportedly freely admitted to the crimes, which occurred near railway stations and bicycle parking areas in the city. Vending machines, whose Japanese name, 自動販売機 (jidouhanbaiki), literally means self (自;ji) moving (動;dou) vending (販売; hanbai) machine (機; ki), are ubiquitious in Japan and sell everything from beverages (soft drinks, canned coffee, energy drinks, as well as alcohol) to rice and cigarettes, and (or so I'm told), in major metropolitan areas, the foregoing as well as women's undergarments (New?, Pre-owned?) and stag beetles. The machines have become increasingly sophisticated, with new models equipped with cameras and sensors to prevent the purchase of booze and smokes by minors, as well as other crimes. According to police, the young man, a truck driver, says he objected to the devices, emblems of an Orwellian surveillance society. As for the kanji 動, which denotes movement, it is used in the compounds 動物　(doubutsu; moving thing, or animal) and 自動車　(jidousha; self-moving vehicle, or automobile). Finally, when the radical for person is placed first, the resulting character means "to work or labor": 働く (hataraku).

A Shrine to Inari, the Shinto Rice God

Inari is the Shinto rice god, and the fox is the god's familiar. Inari is one of the most popular gods in the Shinto pantheon, and Inari shrines number in the tens of thousands. Inari is believed capable of granting success in matters as diverse as business pursuits and school exams. The Irifune Inari Shrine, pictured above, is located in central Niigata City. Its annual summer festival will be held July 8-10 this year. If you're in the area, the shrine is worth a visit.

The Daily Kanji: 古

The character 古 means "old". Its most common Japanese reading, or kun-yomi, is ふるい ( furui) ; in kanji, with the grammatical ending, it is rendered 古い. The sentence 私の車は古い (My car is old) employs this reading. In compounds with other kanji the character usually adopts the Chinese reading, or on-yomi. The latter is "ko", or こ　in hiragana, and consequently the reading for the compounds of which it appears is most often "ko". Some common compounds pronounced "ko"are:

湖- lake
固- hard, firm
個- individual
故- old, reason

Knowing that the pronunciation of such compounds is "ko" will help you to search for their meaning in Japanese or romanized dictionaries.

When the character retains its Japanese reading in compounds, the "i" is dropped, as in 古里, "furusato" (hometown, historic village); 古紙　"furugami" (old paper); and one of my favorites, 古臭い "furukusa(i)", literally "old and smelly" but meaning "old-fashioned; hackneyed, trite".

Torii

The torii is the gate through which one passes to enter a Shinto shrine. The Chinese characters for torii are 鳥 (tori), which means "bird", and 居 (i), which means "to dwell"; together the characters form the compound 鳥居 (torii). It is thought that the gateway was originally a perch for sacred fowl that announced the coming of day, rousing the Shinto faithful from their slumbers to salute the sunrise. This outdated custom recalls the Japanese belief that the "race" is descended from the Sun Goddess, Amaterasu. A communication sent by a 7th century Japanese potentate to his Chinese counterpart was signed "From the Emperor of the Land of the Rising Sun to the Emperor of the Land of the Setting Sun". The photos were taken at Yahiko Shrine, the largest in Niigata Prefecture. In August of 1689 Basho spent a night in Yahiko during his Oku-no-Hosomichi walking tour of northern Japan.

The Six Jizo

The six statues above depict the Buddhist deity Jizo, the patron saint of travelers and the protector of the souls of children in the underworld. The Jizo at far left holds a Buddhist rosary; the next has its hands joined in prayer; the third and sixth Jizo appear to carry the Japanese pilgrim's staff, or tsue; the fourth has (apparently) in its left hand the mystic jewel, the Nio-i ho-jiu, with the power to grant all desires; and the fifth holds in its left hand the mystic jewel and supports in its right the mendicant priest's staff, the shakujo, with its six rings at the top. Cups of water are placed before the group, and a single cup sits in front of the multitude of miniature statues (representing the souls of children) in the open-sided granite "box", which is likely a representation of the netherworld.

Shachihoko

The shachihoko is a great stone fish, an idealized porpoise, with its nose in the ground and its tail in the air. - Lafcadio Hearn

Shachihoko are often seen atop the tiled ridgepoles of wealthy planters' farmhouses, those of shrines and temples, as well as on the roofs of feudal castles. These stylized half-fish, half-tiger creatures are believed to protect buildings from fire. The use of shachihoko in their dual functions of ornamentation and fire prevention increased during the sixteenth century reign of Daimyo Oda Nobunaga (1534-1582). At present the largest copper plated shachihoko in Japan is that atop Matsue Castle in Shimane Prefecture, shown in the photo immediately above.

The Gohei

Gohei are the sacred cuttings of folded white paper attached to the shimenawa. Note that the gohei alternate with the pendent tufts of straw. As with the shimenawa, I refer to the erudite Lafcadio Hearn for more on the subject: "The origin of the paper cuttings (gohei) ... is likewise to be found in the legend of the Sun-goddess; but the gohei also represent offerings of cloth anciently made to the gods according to a custom long obsolete."

The Shimenawa

The shimenawa is the twisted rope hung from the main gate, suspended above the holy font or the entrance to the main hall, or wrapped around sacred trees or other objects at Shinto shrines. It may be a thick, hempen plait, as in the lower photo, or a few strands of twine, as in the upper. Of the shimenawa Lafcadio Hearn has this to say:"(I)t represents the straw rope the deity Futo-tama-no-mikoto stretched behind the Sun-goddess Ama-terasu... after Ame-no.., the Heavenly-handstrength-god, had pulled her out" [of the ground]. Depending from the shimenawa are tufts of rope signifying the roots that clung to the mythical original, which was made of grass.

Roadside Shrines

Roadside shrines like the one pictured are common sights in rural Japan. The stylized sculpture provides little clue to the deity's identity, but, like many such, it is probably associated with agriculture or wayfaring. Fresh flowers were recently placed in vases to left and right of the image.

A Spring Cycling Trip

Japan's addiction to road-building has at least one benefit: no area, howsoever remote, is inaccessible to the cyclist. The above photos were taken in Niigata in late April on a 125 kilometer ramble through the mountains, which are 800-1200 meters high in this area. I had the road to myself, my own private road, for much of the day.