鞍馬の火祭り

As I descended into the (normally sleepy) little hamlet called Kurama, I found that all of that calm, solitary atmosphere gave way to the excitement of preparing for a matsuri. The entire town seemed to be abuzz getting ready for the Kurama-no-hi Matsuri (the Kurama fire festival)--every citizen seemed to be somehow involved, while I walked around town photographing them.

firetruck no. 1

In addition to every citizen in the town, every fireman and policeman from the Kyoto forces had ascended the mountain to aid in the festivities. I stand by my initial belief that had anything horribly wrong happened down the mountain in Kyoto that night, there would have been no one in town to help out, because they were crowded into this little town.

大きいたいまつ

Why all the fuss over a festival? Well, it's one of the best in Japan. For the past 1600 years, this festival has invariably occurred, come rain or shine, on the evening of October 22nd in the streets of Kurama. The festival is a religious ceremony that guides the spirits of deities by torchlight between the spirit realm and the human world, AND doubles as a rite of passage for the people of the town during many different stages of their life.

たいまつを作る間に

The pine torches, or taimatsu, vary in size from the one-handed variety that a toddler might carry to giants that take 4 large men to support.

family bonfire

From a baby's first October 22nd, they carry a torch (held in the arms of their parents), and then as they grow, they wear beautiful kimono, nearly buckling under the weight of the clothing and the torch. Youthful men are the bearers of the two mikoshi (portable shrines) that are carried up the mountain at the climax of the festival. And the grown men are in charge of the largest taimatsu, while the women and elderly either accompany their families walking the torches around town or attend to the family bonfire outside their home.

貴重品

Families also display religious relics outside of their homes (the staff above), and a taiko drum if they have one (depicted below). The drum is then beaten throughout the ceremony as the town chants, "sai-rei sai-ryou," ("good festival, the best festival,") in rhythmic cacophony.

たいこ

Watching the bonfires and torches be made and put into place was a special treat, so I was happy that I had all day after lunch there. A bonfire started with a simple metal basket (like this one)...

火事の器

...and was constructed by whomever in the house was available at that particular moment. It always started with layer of kindling and dead pine needles, then a layer of pine firewood, followed by a layer of cedar firewood, then topped off with live branches.

おじさん

Assembled taimatsu would be displayed in front of the family home for passerbys to admire, and would sit there basking in the sun, waiting to be lit.

ご家族のたいまつ

This festival is also famous for being deemed among the "top three festivals for eccentrics" in Japan. Who deemed it so or what authority they have, I know not. But as a native of a town that has an Oyster Festival, an All-Species Parade, and a Kinetic Sculpture Race, I think I have the authority to agree with the statement nonetheless.

天狗

Not only do bare-bummed men (wearing the traditional fudoshi undergarment only) carrying 15-foot tall flaming torches make for a laughable sight, but there was also many a Japanese goblin in attendance. These "Tengu" goblins--remnants of Kurama's ancient folklore mythology-- came either in the crow-headed variety or the red-skinned Pinocchio variety, as shown above, and some people's costumes were pretty convincing.

たいまつの木

As the sun started to tuck itself in behind the mountain, I met up with Ishani, who came to Kurama to see the festival with me. We walked around a little bit more before settling in a place to start watching the procession, only to be shooed away from sideline after sideline, until FINALLY somebody let us know that we would have to walk throughout the entire festival, and that's why the police kept ushering everybody away from anyplace they happened to be standing.

安全

Overall, with the Kurama firefighting club, the entire Kyoto police force and fire station crews, and water bins at every house to douse out any unexpected fires, I think they had a town Smokey would be proud of. But that didn't mean it was the safest place ever. I had the misfortune of watching person after person fall down into a hole at the side of the street that was filled with river water (it was a drainage area of some sort) when the sun had gone down and they could no longer see well. Even after a Japanese man got exceeding irked at a police officer who refused to stand watch over that area, I was disappointed in the unenthusiastic solution of putting a traffic cone next to it. But it turned out the traffic cone didn't do any good either. I watched about 6 people fall in, and any one of those times, someone could've easily broken a bone. Sometimes I really hate the tendency in America to sue for every little thing, but it made me upset that nobody seemed willing or able to prevent accidents like that from happening.

kindling

But that was the only bad thing that happened all day, and all of those people were alright, if soaked. Other than those mishaps, from the time the sun went down to the time we left (before the matsuri had ended because we had to get back home before school the following morning) was pure magic.

fire hamlet

Watching the town slowly light up with fire and seeing the citizens walk all over their territory, carrying fire and chanting all the way--it was truly an exceptional Japanese experience. And then I came to a different kind of peaceful solitude from what I had experienced that afternoon on my hike.

”さいれいさいりょう”

ふんどし

たいまつの子供

While it was the first time since coming to Japan that I could see stars above my head (I live in light-pollution waste-land), the fires were more mesmerizing, and the fire of my love for Japan burned even brighter still.

火

貴船から鞍馬まで

The following blog post is about the wonderful, adventure-filled day I had three weeks ago on October 22nd. This is the first of two installments about that day, so stay tuned for the second, but for now, I'll be talking about my hiking adventure.

the frightening side of japanese wilderness

From the time that the CET program in Japan sent me my Lonely Planet Japan guidebook, I had been wanting to go to Kurama, a tiny town tucked away in the mountains near Kyoto. It's certainly a feasible day trip from where I live, as it takes only about 2 hours total with all travel time included to get from my apartment to Kurama itself. But anyway, I had been particularly interested in going there since the middle of the summer when I read about it, and had specifically planned to ascend this mountain on October 22nd, the day of the Kurama-no-hi Matsuri (see next blog entry), one of the most renowned festivals in Japan.

量感のレストラン

All of my research had led me to believe that the hike from Kibune (a neighboring town on the other side of the same mountain) to Kurama would be the most amazing way to go about actually getting to Kurama. This way would allow me to explore nature and see the various Buddhist temples scattered on the mountain (because the people of Kurama founded their own sect of Buddhism centuries ago). And amazing it was!

外のいす

I set off with Ishani (one of my American roommates) in the morning, both of us commiserating about the butterflies in our stomachs. Ishani was going to the Jidai Matsuri in Kyoto, which happens annually on October 22nd, as well. And although this wasn't by any means my first time exploring on my own, it was my first time going anywhere outside of Osaka on my own. And it was the first for Ishani as well, so we were a little bit anxious about what the day had in store. We went our separate ways near Gion in Kyoto, when Ishani walked to the Imperial Palace and I transfered to another train to ascend the mountain.

猟官の中

Because there is no station that goes all the way to Kibune, I got off the train at Kibuneguchi, and walked uphill 20 minutes to get to the town. I felt my adventure truly commencing as the fresh, mountain air hit me, I put my one foot in front of the other, and started trekking. I immediately had one of my absolute favorite things happen to me, as I ran into four women (who must have been in their 60s) hiking up the way to Kibune as well. I got to talking with them about their lives and what they thought I should see while in Japan, etc. I really love meeting random strangers here and striking up meaningful conversations with them, and it was so enjoyable to climb up to the town with them, but when we got to Kibune, we parted ways, as this group of friends was continuing still further up the mountain to stay in a Ryokan together that night. They did, however, point me in the direction of the main attractions (there were very few, but it was truly beautiful) in town.

貴船神社の通り

Kibune is a ridiculously small Ryokan (Japanese traditional inn) town. The little village has only one street, as does Kurama, but all there was in Kibune were various Ryokan, and the Kibune Jinja (Shinto shrine, not Buddhist). The pictures at the beginning of this blog entry are of the various Ryokan where visitors stay and dine above a beautiful river, taking in the sounds of the rushing water below as they eat. And the picture directly above and directly below are of the shrine.

貴船神社

You may remember this set of stairs from the picture in my last entry of the old man helping his wife up to the shrine. And I can understand why that couple came, because to date this was probably my most-loved Shinto shrine. It was absolutely beautiful, and I really enjoyed taking in the sun and fresh air in such a heart-warming place.

snag

The nature was definitely highlight number one of the day (hence the hike blog, followed by the matsuri blog, as the matsuri was highlight number two). And as I walked around (well, really up and back down) the town, I found myself mainly looking at the trees.

sunny pods

While trees of course make me a tad bit nostalgic about home, I was also having such a fun time exploring on my own that I wouldn't have traded that feeling for the world, and thus didn't find myself homesick.

real brooms

Just a quick anecdote about this picture above. In Japan, I see REAL brooms everywhere I go! I think it's so exciting to see brooms actually made from wood rather than the plastic, ungrounded brooms we have stateside. I didn't realize that people actually still used this kind of broom before Japan, but it actually makes me more than a little disappointed that we don't use them, too. So much more sustainable, not to mention better for Kiki and Hermione, I'm certain.

This particular broom was standing outside of the "toll" booth for the hike, where you paid 100 yen, roughly a $1.50 with my ridiculous exchange rate, for a map of the hiking trail, coupons for the local attractions in Kibune and Kurama, and access to the trail and the temples they housed.

up, up, and away

And then I started up. And up. And up. The hike itself was roughly an hour uphill to climb the mountain, then less than 20 minutes down the other side. Though I have to admit that I was taking my merry time, because guess what? I met and socialized with yet more Japanese people on the way!

While I found myself inspired by the 60-or-some-odd women I had met on the way to Kibune, I had no way of knowing what was yet in store. Little did I know that I would soon be CLIMBING a mountain with more than a dozen 70 some-odd year-old women, a group of childhood friends who continued to meet up at least a few times a year and take long walks together.

back to my roots

In about 20-minutes of uphill stair climbing, followed by 40 minutes of walking the trail portion uphill over hundreds of roots, I never once heard them complain about achy knees or backs. Needless to say, it was inspiring to walk alongside such wise and healthful women. We talked quite a bit about their lives, and they asked me about all sorts of cultural differences. There is really no way I can put into words how delighted I was to meet them. I'm now sorry to say that I have no pictures of the group, because when I asked they said that when you get their age, you don't really want pictures of yourself taken. I thought to myself that when you're that age and still healthy and lively enough to go climb a mountain with your childhood friends, you should pretty much want to show the world! But I guess writing about it is one way of sharing their inspiration!

view from the top

Nevertheless, it just so happened that there was plenty to photograph. This picture above was just past the apex of the mountain on the way down, as the rooftops of the main temple became visible from above.

bell

Soon, we found ourselves face to face with the giant bell, primarily rung on New Years' day when every temple in Japan rings their bell all day and night to beckon visitors to their first temple visit of the new year. But one of the youthful old ladies rang the bell, and we listened to it sound throughout the valley.

can you hear it?

We then all proceeded to eat lunch together down at the main grounds of Kurama-dera, which was one of the most remarkable Buddhist temples I've seen. It was an excellent place to rest my feet for a while and take in the view while munching on my pre-packed bento box and chatting with a group of old ladies.

きれいな木

As we wandered down the mountain, we went through the various portions of the main temple grounds, and wound our way down steep stairs and trails. And then I said my goodbyes and sincere thank you (accompanied by the deepest bow I've ever given--to show my respect) to my group of kindred hiking women. I took a few extra minutes exploring the temple, and then made my own way further down the mountain towards Kurama town.

鞍馬寺

*note the broom!!!

大杉

I finished up my hike by looking at this giant cedar, and then looking back the way I came. This 800-year old, 53 meter-tall giant is an ambassador of another time. While I find the old hiking women extremely inspiring, I find trees like this one awe-inspiring. And they stand tall, shining light on your own accomplishments. I'm so happy to have climbed that mountain, but have I been standing and growing and developing for 800 hundred years? No. Do I even have hope to? No. And that doesn't by any stretch of the imagination that my accomplishments are small (though some would say they are), but little by little I'm growing as a person. I step outside of my comfort zone every day here, and I stretch myself to grow upwards and out. The sky's the limit. But anyway, my hike came to a close with my reflection on my personal growth through the first half of this semester. And with all of the amazing sights I saw, and all the excellent examples I have to follow when it comes to growing into my own skin, I couldn't be more happy to be here experiencing it all.

the path from whence i came

色々な人々

This blog entry is about the people of Japan. It is an entry of few words, because the pictures mainly speak for themselves. But I will give you some context to go along with the photos. These are all pictures I have taken of people, sometimes, but not always, with their consent. I call it my "stalker" blog, and I've been accumulating these pictures since day one, but they are some of my absolute favorites from Japan. I feel that they capture so much about the society. A picture really is worth a thousand words.

三人乗り

This is a mother and her children bicycling. As I've told you, I bicycle pretty much everywhere, but so does most of Japan. Bicycles are everywhere, helmets are not. The only helmets I have seen have been on serious cyclists with other fancy cycling gear, but never on the general population, which includes children. Sometimes I am appalled, for instance when Amber told me she saw a young boy sitting in a seat like one of these fall out and hit his head on the concrete. The mother in that case pulled the boy up by his ear and scolded him for not sitting properly rather than checking his injuries. But it is just one of those things that one simply has to accept about the culture here, that helmet laws have never existed, and as such, the culture is not at all in the habit of wearing them.

父親と息子

 This was a beautiful moment when I stumbled upon a father teaching his son to ride a bicycle for the first time. This photo was captured at the moment when he first was able to keep his balance and ride down the stretch of gravel.

水

 A cute toddler playing with the water of a public fountain.

おばあさんとかさ

An older woman sitting and taking in the sounds of nature in a park on a drizzly day.

魚と男の人

 Fishes at the aquarium approaching a disabled man in a wheelchair. The man smiled and laughed and made the world brighter with his happiness.

女の子

 A young girl looking inquisitively at clownfish.

はしで食べます

A little girl eating precariously with her chopsticks. She hasn't yet mastered the art, but she'll get there.

警察

 A police man on duty outside on a rainy night in Kobe's Chinatown.

練習

A Chinatown dragon dancer, practicing before putting on his dragon head.

ピンク

 Your typical, young Japanese woman, decked out in the latest fashions, carrying purse, umbrella, shopping bags, and cellphone complete with jingling charms.

急いで

A young Japanese restaurant worker rushing around Chinatown at closing time.

てつだてあげる

 An old man helping his wife up the stairs to Kibune temple.

昼寝

 This picture above is one of my favorites. It was taken at Kurama Temple (stay tuned for that blog entry tomorrow), where I sat and ate lunch after a long hike. These women were having quite a lively conversation next to me as I ate, but simultaneously nodded off in the sun after several minutes.

ボース

 Even stylish city-slickers love taking in the sights of nature in Japan. See above (young hipster) and below ("salary man" or white-collar worker after a long day's work).

サラリーマン

Children playing with bubbles in the street before twilight.

あそびましょう

Young elementary school children in uniform on their way home from school. All students wear uniforms through the end of high school in Japan, and you can tell the ages based on the type of uniform. These boys are not only dressed in the elementary school clothing, but are wearing the traditional randoseru, a type of elementary school backpack. Girls traditionally wear red ones, while boys have black. They are stiff, leather backpacks that were brought over from the Netherlands around two centuries ago.

勉強しましょう

Old men seem to often fish as a hobby. Around any and every body of water, you can find old men sitting and waiting for fish to catch their bait. They're also really friendly and most of the time perfectly willing to strike up a conversation with a passing foreigner (namely, me) anytime.

つりしましょう

These people are amazing. I still find myself thoroughly amazed sometimes that I am here, actually witnessing these people going about their daily lives. And while these pictures definitely capture a lot of what it means to be a Japanese person, the camera can't fully contain the magic that it is for me to be here in Japan living alongside these people everyday. It's such a blessing, and I'm still happily soaking up every minute of it!