Monday, June 27, 2011

The Ancient Capital, Kyoto (2nd Visit)

(This one's another long one.  Just a heads up)

It's been several weeks since my first visit to Kyoto, and I've been raring to go back ever since.  Finally, this last Saturday was my opportunity.  We didn't go to as many places as last time, but it was still a blast.

Our first stop was a bridge called Togetsu-kyo (渡月橋), which roughly means "Moon-spanning Bridge" or "Bridge that Reaches the Moon." It's supposedly very old, and the view of the mountain Arashiyama (嵐山, literally "Storm Mountain") in the fall is said to be very pretty.  I thought the summer view was exquisite as well.


The river running beneath it is so tranquil.  I can picture a cloudless night, with the bridge passing over the full moon reflected in the slow-moving water.


After this we took a stroll through a nearby bamboo forest.  It felt like I was walking through Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon.  It was awesome!


See? It's meee! 


On the other side of the grove was a small neighborhood of purposely provincial houses.  They had been built and maintained so as to keep the feel of ancient Kyoto town life (with appropriate modern conveniences, of course; these people aren't the Japanese equivalent of the Amish).



This shrine is an Enmusubi shrine, like the one I visited last time I went to Kyoto.  This one is mentioned specifically in the Tale of Genji.

We seemed to be winding around in a large circle, because not too long after the shrine we arrived back on the main street where we had parked.  We took a break to get snowcones (I got melon flavor; yum!) and then went shopping in some amazing stores.  Most of the places we went to had incredibly unique, handmade crafts made from bamboo, specially woven cloth, etc.  Most of it was beyond my meager budget, but I did pick up a noren (the cloth cover put in front of store fronts) and a new pair of summer jinbei (Japanese pajamas).

After lunch at Big Boy, where we ate delicious hamburgs (not hamburgers; hamburgs, or hambaagu, are a Japanese invention, taking the patty from a hamburger, mixing bread and other ingredients into it, and serving it up as its own dish).  I'm so happy my wife knows how to make so much of this delicious food; I don't have to be without it in America! :)

Now, given that Kyoto is the ancient capital and is often synonymous with tradition and the old ways of life, I figured that our next destination would be yet another example of the deep and rich history of Japan.  And in a way, I was right.  However, the depiction of this era of Japan was not only a commentary on Japan's general history, but also on Japanese cinema during the 20th century.

The place we went to is called Toei Kyoto Studio Park, which is essentially Universal Studios for old samurai period pieces, called jidaigeki 時代劇.  Preserved here are the set pieces for many famous historical dramas in Japan, which range from the Warring States Period in the 16th century to the tumultuous end of the Shogunate and return of Imperial power in the Meiji Restoration of 1868.


The park itself is designed to look and feel like you're walking in an old Japanese town.  The first thing you see is a busy city street, full of shops (though they now only sell souvenirs and memorabilia).


Even the roads were dusty, like a typical town would be of that time.  Of course, if you're feeling particularly lordly and wouldn't deign to sully your feet on the dirt, you might consider getting yourself a rickshaw.

Come here, slave! Pick up this photo-op and cart me hence!

If you're rather stay concealed, then perhaps a palanquin?


They had samurai, ninja, and geisha literally roaming the streets as you walked through the different sets.


They were surprisingly friendly folk, and were aching people to take pictures with them.


Some samurai were less friendly than others, though....

Gagch! Killed by a policeman samurai? Ugh, slain by the sword of Justice...

Some of them would even get into brawls right on the street.  Here's a video of an encounter between two rogue samurai and a member of the Shinsengumi, a special police group of under the command of the Shogunate during the years leading up to the Meiji Restoration.  His light blue coat is a dead giveaway that he's the guy with the chops for chopping.



After the demonstration the performers asked for volunteers to come up and help defeat the evil samurai.  Despite my earnest hand waving and shouting, I lost the spot to another intern in a game of rock-paper-scissors.  I still regret not challenging her to best two out of three.

 Struggle....

Cut!

Victory!

Needing a break from the sun (it's far too hot for June), we went to an indoor venue to watch a "making of" show, where a "director" helped two witless "actors" to enact a samurai/ninja battle.  They were speaking really fast and I really didn't catch much of what they were saying, but the slapstick styling of the whole thing was pretty easy to pick up on.  We watched as the samurai chased after the ninja and challenged him to battle, only to have the tables turned on him at the end.  It was quite entertaining!


We continued on, looking at different sets.  Brother and Sister Sugimoto (who were our guides for the day) were reminiscing about all these old shows they used to watch as we went past various sets.  There was a photo booth were you could dress up as a character from these old shows and get your picture taken, but it was rather expensive so I couldn't get one.  I would have made a killer Miyamoto Musashi.

One set in particular caught their interest, a fire station from a show called Me-gumi め組, which is about old firefighters in Tokyo.  They had a big stick that they'd hoist on a nearby roof to draw attention to the fire. 


As far as drawing attention is concerned, though, I think my pasty whiteness does a good job of that already.

After that was another show, a Ninja Show!

Ninjas are just as glorified in Japan as they are in the States.

Again, the language was a bit beyond my comprehension level, but the gist of this glorified action show was readily apparent.  I only caught small portions on camera, but here they are.



After that we headed home, tired and very satisfied.  Well, almost satisfied.  I should have tried harder to be in that samurai show....

I would come back to Kyoto in a heartbeat.  I'd come back to this park in a heartbeat too.  Man, it was a BLAST!  I want to watch a bunch of samurai shows now.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

奈良 Nara, City of Antiquity

This weekend was finally the weekend for the other historic city that I had been itching to see: Nara!  The capital before Kyoto, Nara's history goes back over 13 centuries.  I knew that I'd be treated to some incredible scenes and I'd learn a lot, but I ended up learning even more than I had supposed.

Our first stop was Nara Park, which is inhabited by deer.  Lots of deer.  Lots of polite deer, too; they knew how to bow and ask for food, which was supplied by vendors all over the park.


However, the sign reads "The deer of Nara Park are wild animals.  They can occasionally attack people, so please be careful."  It then shows deer biting an old woman's purse and knocking her down, and kicking and headbutting little girls.  But, I mean, look at 'em!  They're so cute!  


Aww, a li'l baby deer!

They gobbled up the packets of shika sembei (deer biscuits) like nobody's business, and still hung around asking for more.  One of them was gracious enough to take a picture with us.

I hereby name you Squishy.  And you shall be mine.  And you shall be my Squishy.

Here's a short montage of happy deer for your enjoyment.



We then made our way to Todai-ji, a Buddhist temple that is the largest wooden structure in the world.  As we passed the main gate we met Ah and Un again (we first saw them guarding the gates to Kiyomizu-dera in Kyoto).  This time, though, they were about ten times as big and menacing.

The righteous get to hang with Ah over here...
...and the wicked get pulverized by Un here.

We then crossed the threshold and approached the mammoth temple.  It was gigantic!  And it had to be, as it was the home of the daibutsu, or Big Buddha, a 50-foot statue made of bronze (largest bronze Buddha statue in the world), situated in the center of the temple.

Here's the temple on approach.  you can see the wee li'l people walking up to the massive gates.

See? It's HUGE!

We came up to the front gate and burned an incense stick offering.  The mammoth Buddha takes up pretty much the whole scene at the door.

The picture doesn't do it justice.  This thing is gargantuan.

As we wound our way around the immense structure, we came to a particular support pillar that's nickamed "Buddha's Nostril," as it has a hole in the base that is approximately the size of the nostril of the Daibutsu.  Legend has it that those who pass through it will gain enlightenment in the next life, or sometimes good luck, etc.  It was a really tight squeeze, but a little bit of wriggling ensured me all the luck I'll ever need.

Look at me! I'm a winner!

As we were walking out of the main hall, we were accosted by another gaggle of junior high schoolers who needed to talk with pasty white foreigners for homework.  We obliged, naturally, and got a picture of them too.


Due to the intermittent rain (nope, rainy season's not over yet), we didn't get to see much of other temples, though we took a photo at Kofuku-ji, another famous temple.

Taylor looks confused...

Now, up until this point I had seen stuff that I had heard about before, and thus was super stoked when I actually got to experience it (and my expectations were met quite satisfactorily).  The afternoon, though, took us away from the popular tourist locales and into the narrow side streets of this primal capital.  We were taken back in time to experience firsthand the making of calligraphy tools, specifically the ink and the brush.  The first stop was a small house where a man who makes traditional Japanese calligraphy ink lives.  We went inside and he explained all about making ink.

For example, there are two methods of making ink; the Chinese method involves using the soot from burning red pine wood, whereas the Japanese method (developed in Nara) included harvesting the soot from burning sesame oil.  A lid is put over the material as it burns, and the soot collects on the bottom of the lid.  This soot is combined with a type of glue, which really is animal gelatin.  The last ingredient is some sort of perfume added to give the mixture a pleasing aroma.

When heated together, the proto-ink almost resembles silly putty.  It is then rolled into a cylinder shape and placed inside wooden presses made from pear tree wood.  This imprints the name, design, and seal of the maker on the ink while shaping the roll into a block shape.  Once shaped properly, the ink is wrapped and placed in a box and allowed to cure for anywhere from 3 to 4 and a half months.  Once finished, the block of ink is hardened and about 30% smaller than it was when first formed.  It also emits a pleasant aroma.

Here's a video of the process.  It's in Japanese, but I think it's worth a watch.


For our demonstration, the ink maker had prepared some proto-ink in advance so we could make our own personalized grip-shaped ink blocks.  First we squeezed the ink tightly,


Then when we released it, we had a perfect imprint of our grip.

Tadaa!

This is a very rare piece of ink.  Not only is it perfectly personalized, but there is nowhere else in Japan or the world where you can make this particular ink; it is a exclusive product to Nara, as is all of the Japanese ink production.  There are 12 extant ink makers in Japan who make the ink the traditional Japanese way, and all of them operate out of Nara.  They supply Japan with 95% of all of their calligraphy ink.

As for brush making, we headed over to a teeny tiny stall in another part of town where an older lady had prepared for us some brushes that we would be allowed to put the finishing touches on.  

This is serious business, y'all.

The process of brush making is actually rather lengthy, starting with the type of hair to be used for the brushes.  They typically take hair from the belly of horses, squirrels, weasels, tanuki (not the mythical figure, the Japanese racoon/badger), etc.  then the hair is trimmed, bundled, and burnt on the edges to bind them together.  They are then placed in a bamboo shaft.  The last step deals with stiffening the hairs (calligraphy brushes differ from most paint brushes in that regard; they are purposefully stiffened to retain their pointed shape).  We saturated the brush with some sort of paste, combed out straggler hairs, then squeezed the living daylights out of the brush to remove the extra paste.

The final squeeze was done by wrapping a string around the hairs and twisting the brush to squeeze out the last drops.

The brush needs to sit in the open air for a few days to finish drying, but after that I'll have a true blue calligraphy brush I prepared myself.  It's the perfect compliment to the personalized ink I just made.

By this time in the afternoon, all the temples had closed, so we headed back home, stopping at a Chinese restaurant on the way.  The desert called an'nin-doufu was like the nectar of the gods.


I cannot believe how lucky I have been to experience Nara the way I did.  It was more than I had ever dreamed.  *sigh*

I love Japan. :)

Thursday, June 16, 2011

大洲市 My wife's hometown, Ozu (Part 3)

(Don't forget days 1 and 2 if you haven't read them)

Mary and I checked out of the hotel around 9 (although due to a miscommunication we weren't picked up until nearly 10) and headed back to the homestead to get ready for the day's fun, which was to go to Matsuyama Castle (although Ozu has a castle as well, Matsuyama's castle has more historical significance and was older than the local one).  As we pulled into Matsuyama, uncle Koichi pulled into a delicious ramen shop, where I ordered miso ramen.

Can someone say, "delicious?"

We then drove over to where we would head up to the castle and handed over the car to a parking garage from the FUTURE!!!

Talk a bout a space saver.

We also took the time to take some funny pictures.

Apparently we're the main characters from a famous novel from Matsuyama called Botchan.

Look!  We're married!

In order to get to the castle we had to take a chair lift of sorts, as the castle proper is up on top of a mountain, but once we had arrived, we were afforded a gorgeous view of Matsuyama city and some islands of the Inland Sea, seto-naikai 瀬戸内海. 

The Inland Sea is the setting for a famous Japanese historical story, the Tale of Heike.

We're wearing our new duds we bought the other day.  Mine's a Kikkoman Soy Sauce shirt.

We proceeded to the castle proper, which unlike Osaka Castle was not renovated to be strictly a museum (though there were some exhibits inside).  It was rebuilt after a fire in 1856, but it hasn't really been renovated since (save for putting in electricity, etc), so it had a much older feel than Osaka Castle.

Here! Enjoy the photo dump!



The armor of the guy who built the castle.

An inner courtyard of the castle as seen from a two-story bailey.

We made a little friend too! Chirp!

Once we had seen the entire castle, we slowly made our way back to the car garage and began our trip back home.  I snapped a picture of an old trolley car that is still in use in Matsuyama.


Oh! And I got a sweet souvenir, as well!

That's right, a katanumbrella!  Rain ninjas don't stand a chance against me now!

We bought takeout dinner and went to a bookstore (so I could finish getting all the books I need for classes). After we got home, Mary and I took one last walk around her town.  Before long, it was time to leave.  I said goodbye to my newly-met family and hopped on the bus again.  The bus had scarcely departed before I started longing to return.  I love Ozu. I love my wife.  I love her family.  I look forward to my return, someday.