Japan’s reputation as the home of high-technology and cradle of countless consumer trends is well deserved, but its modernity rests on and co-exists with its remarkably well preserved culture and history.
Tokyo can look and feel like any of the world’s big cities: in major shopping areas the streets lined with branches of Starbucks and Gap and various other glossy emporia of globalisation can make you feel quite disorientated. But step back into some of the city’s more traditional neighbourhoods and you’ll find reminders of a more enduring past.
Fire and water
In the northern part of the city, Asakusa is home to the Senso-ji temple which has stood here since the 17th century. The Buddhist temple also has Shinto shrines on its grounds and the result is an incredible mix of sounds and smells. Vast black and crimson paper lanterns hang in the entrance gate, flanked by the terrifying temple guardians whose giant sandals – each the size of a small boat — are on display.
Fortune kooky
The courtyard is wreathed in incense and pilgrims waft it over themselves as a purifying ritual, before washing their hands and rinsing their mouths out at the water fountain in preparation for making a prayer.
To one side stands a wall of tiny wooden drawers, before them a metal cylinder filled with corresponding numbered sticks. The cylinder is shaken to release a stick, and a fortune paper is then taken from the drawer with the matching number.
I get a good one: “the cloudy sky will get more clear and the moon will appear”. I read it and then try to copy other pilgrims, who I’ve seen tying their fortunes to a rack. My Japanese friend is horrified and quickly explains that only bad fortunes should be left behind in this manner — I should most definitely take my good fortune with me.
Armed with this blessing I head west to Japan’s ancient imperial capital, Kyoto.
Famed for its maiko and geisha (or more accurately “geiko” in Kyoto dialect) districts of Gion and Pontocho, the city’s real splendour is in its breathtaking array of temples and gardens.
Visiting the aunts
Trying to avoid a McHotel filled with hordes of American tourists, I’ve booked into the Three Sisters Inn, a traditional ryokan (guesthouse) which is not only affordable but has the added advantage of English speaking hosts. Some of the high-end ryokan charge more than Y40 000 (about R2 800) a night and many ryokan will only accept foreigners if accompanied by a Japanese person.
The Three Sisters is perfectly situated in historic East Kyoto, home to some of the city’s most spectacular temples from the world heritage site Kiyomizu-dera to the Heian-jingu shrine.
The inn has been run by the Yamada sisters since 1957, which hardly seems possible since they barely look a day over 50. Staying at the inn is like visiting some elderly aunts — they fuss and scold and are utterly charming but quite firm about their rules, such as the front door being locked at 11pm. Rooms have tatami mat floors and thin but very comfortable futon mattresses covered in beautiful white linen and a quilt. Shoes are left at the front door and special bathroom slippers are worn in the communal showers and toilets.
The sisters quite literally take me in hand and tell me the best way to see anything in Kyoto is to walk, before nudging me gently up the road to the Kurodani temple from where I’m to find the Philosophers’ Path and on to the Ginkaku-ji (Silver Pavilion).
The walk takes me through street after street of traditional Kyoto-style houses — tiny and self-contained, with sliding wooden lattice doors, pots frothing with colourful flowers and windows hung with rolling bamboo blinds.
Meditation and moonlight
I lose myself in the cemetery at Kurodani, climbing its terraces where the long dead have an astounding view of the wooded hills and listen to the clack-clack of scores of bamboo prayer sticks in the wind. Legs like jelly, I climb back down and head off for the Silver Pavilion. The main building is closed for restoration but that hardly matters as the garden is the real attraction: from sculpted silver sand designed to reflect moonlight, to mossy rocks, manicured hedges and waterfalls tinkling into coin-strewn ponds.
The next morning I head off across the city on the number 93 bus, to the Myoshin-ji temple complex. I get off at the right stop but despite the detailed map, manage to get lost (not being able to read the street signs doesn’t help). I stop a man and ask for help and, as we have no language in common for complicated directions, he walks me several blocks to the gates of the temple. (I’m not sure where the Japanese got their reputation for aloofness, but I consistently found them to be more good-humoured and helpful than people in any European city.)
I make my way to the Shunko-in (Temple of the Spring Ray) where I am to have a lesson in Zen meditation (zazen) from the vice-abbot Reverend Takafumi Kawakami. He explains the basics principles of zazen, gives some pointers on how to sit comfortably — your hips should be higher than your knees — and promises not to use the discipline stick (traditionally used to wake up monks who nod off during meditation). I opt to keep my eyes open and look out at the 400-year-old garden.
After the meditation Reverend Kawakami gives a brief tour of the temple, including its many artefacts that relate to the “hidden” Christians after the religion was banned in the late 16th century. The temple houses the Jesuit bell of Nanban-ji Church, which was abandoned in 1587 when Christianity was outlawed. The bell was brought to Shunko-in where it has been protected ever since — Kawakami’s grandfather was abbot of the temple during World War II and buried it to prevent the military government from melting it down for armaments.
The philosophy of Shunko-in is to welcome guests, as captured in the Chinese idiom kissako, meaning “please enjoy a cup of tea”. In this spirit Kawakami serves green tea and deliciously malted biscuits to guests before sending them on their way, a little calmer and a little saner than when they arrived.
A thousand cranes
Travelling back to the south-east side of Kyoto the understated simplicity of Shunko-in gives way to the opulent gorgeousness of the Fushimi Inari Shrine — dedicated to the Shinto god of rice, sake and prosperity — with more than 10 000 vermilion torii gates that line the path up to the top of the mountain.
The sanctuary at the foot of the shrine is tended by priests in high black hats and big shiny black shoes. Devotees hang layer upon layer of ema (wooden boards representing wishes) and swathes of senbazuru — strings of a thousand origami cranes — believed to earn the maker a wish.
At regular intervals along the mountain path there are clearings with smaller shrines where pilgrims come to pray. As these are Shinto shrines, worshippers must first clap their hands loudly to wake the deity and then tug on coloured cloth streamers to ring a bell, before lighting candles and making their prayers. Small offerings are left at the foot of some of the torii — a twist of paper containing some beans, rice and two tiny candles.
Praise to the vegetable
This relationship between bounteous nature and human spirituality is expressed everywhere in Kyoto. Shops lining the swanky retail area of Shijo-dori nestle alongside candle-filled shrines in tiny courtyards.
The traditional Kyoto delicacy is pickled vegetables and shop after shop is filled with radishes, carrots and aubergines prepared in innumerable ways. I buy a bottle of sake in a beautifully decorated bottle. This is in turn meticulously wrapped (somewhat of a Japanese art form) in decorative paper that reads: “Talk to the earth, praise to the vegetable.”
How can you not love a town like this?
Getting there
There are no direct flights from South Africa to Japan, so catch a connecting flight in Hong Kong. Cathay Pacific flies daily from Johannesburg to Hong Kong and then on to Tokyo, but prices fluctuate daily so check fares on their website.
The Three Sisters Inn offers single rooms from about R680 a night. They have no email but can be contacted by telephone on +81 75 761 6336.
For more info go to www.shunkoin.com.