Souls at Peace

Saturday I was invited by Oyasan (honorable landlord) to come with her to (another, different) nearby shrine with her, her family, and children. The occasion of August 9th, or the memorial of the destruction of Nagasaki by Fat Man is usually recognized in some way by Nagasaki natives. It’s been my observation that Japan’s observance of these holidays both here and in Hiroshima is largely apolitical. Ceremonies morn the fallen, celebrate life, and strive for peace. They are critical of all nations that partake in nuclear arms, and serve as living reminders of what these weapons are capable of.

We walked across the street to the shrine, and then up the multitude of stairs. This shrine was much smaller, but similarly decorated with lanterns the whole way up and it also shared a hillside directly across from the one in my previous blog. The Kawasaki’s are a sweet as they come as far as land lords or just people in general are concerned. I left them a box of detergent wrapped in a bow as a welcoming gift for them and their family. Their response has been incredible! They made me dinner once, they go out of their way to make sure I know how to handle the trash, and their daughter makes me origami houses and pianos. For those of you taking notes on Japanese culture, it’s traditional when you move into a new apartment to give a small gift to your neighbors and landlord. In most cases it’s a hand-towel, but in mine it was detergent because I was afraid I’d choose the wrong color. Hello neighbor, have a hand-towel of death and misfortune! ;)

Quick aside, if you ever come to Japan, there are two things you must never be without when you are around and about in public… besides your passport which is for legal reasons. It’s a pack of tissues and a hand towel. The Japanese use the hand-towels to wipe the sweat from their faces and neck, which is nice and all, but more importantly, what if you need to use the bathroom? Public restrooms are frequently devoid of toilet paper, towels or hand driers, and sometimes even soap. Don’t get me wrong, I believe the Japanese to rival the French Canadians as one of the cleanest cultures on the planet, but you are expected to provide that for yourself. While heated toilet seats and washers at your personal house are great, Japanese public commodes are sometimes set in the ground (ladies, I haven’t snuck into a bathroom yet, so sadly no report here) and you are intended to squat over them. While I understand their concept of un-cleanliness to touch the same commode as other people, squatting is something I’m, um, still adjusting to.

I was delighted to find that at the top of the hill was the shrine, and who was attending the shrine, but my friend Midori-san (mama). She explained to me that her husband had a vein burst in his leg and had spent several days in the hospital. I was very sad to hear about this, but she assured me he would be ok. I put money in the box (Y100, a dollar) and assumed the Shinto tradition of clapping twice in front of the shrine and bowing. At least I think it’s Shinto…

The remainder of the evening was really quite pleasant. I helped yakitori (BBQ) the food, I chatted with Midori san, and watched all the events of the evening unfold. First, taiko, or Japanese drumming, was being performed as I rose up the steps, and everyone was taking turns giving it a try, even me. Everything music related feels like guitar hero now… thanks Jason. After that, I entered Japanese tourist mode and began taking pictures. I whipped out the camera and took photos of the girls wearing their yukatta, or light summer kimono. One thing of particular notice to me was a strange sand pit in the center of the yard behind the jinja (shrine). There was a paddle, a twig, and something else. Maybe there was a tree planting ceremony? Who knows… all I knew was that this place felt very peaceful.
Looking around, I saw families and children talking, telling stories, and the pleasant happy chatter that one would expect in maybe a public park. It reminded me in a small way of Piedmont. I purchased what I thought was water in the strangest shaped bottle. I asked one of the children ordering one if it was water, and he said it wasn’t, and then used some words I didn’t understand. I then attempted to suck water from the top and was having trouble making anything come out. I then saw another adult use words I didn’t understand in my direction, and sure that I had just committed some grave offense to the ancestors of this holy place by disrespecting the strange bottle of water, I asked for help. They made motions I assumed I was to mimic so I followed their lead and unwrapped the plastic top to my unusual container. Then, a small piece of plastic fell from the top of my bottle on the ground and Oyasan immediately began to chatter to another woman rapidly, while glancing out at me with one eye. Not only had my incompetence insulted the ancestors, but so had my disrespect for this plastic thing.

Apparently, that plastic thing was a bottle opener. Oyasan was trying to get me to use someone else’s who’s hadn’t dropped so I could use a clean one. The bottle contained a sweet, clear cider and to open it, you have to shove a plastic bottle opener into the top. Doing so will force a glass marble into the neck, allowing you access to the cider. Apparently (this is conjecture) the bead prevents liquid from escaping if dropped, cider from exploding in your face if shaken, and also prevents you from chugging it down in one gulp like a frat boy at a keg. I’m surprised it didn’t turn into a robot when I was done with it.

At this point a cluster of children was forming around the sand-pit and the guy who was drumming when I ascended the stairs, was collecting the children. Oyasan explained to me that they were about to perform Japanese Sumo, but for kids! It’s death by cuteness. The children lined up next to the nice old guy, paired off over straw laid out as temporary mats, and lined up in the sand to fight for fame and lots of candy. I watched, enthralled for over an hour. Even the girls got to do it. How fun is that?

After the sumo, there was a traditional Japanese dance led by Midori-san danced around the time of O-Bon. It’s worth noting that O-Bon is a Buddhist tradition, and this was a Shinto temple. The Japanese practice both, sometimes also adding Christian elements and see no real conflict with this. Japanese people don’t seem to have any conflict internally or externally with subscribing to multiple religions. A Japanese person might have their birth celebration held at a Shinto shrine, a Christian wedding, and a Buddhist funeral. Before going on, I should say that big chunks of the following are conjecture and opinion. Japanese society and high-politeness evolved from a high population density in urban centers. The island is highly isolated and thus homogenous. People aren’t nosy, are focused on being productive, and prefer not to make waves. In other words, the religions of Japan were never interested in becoming power structures designed to herd believers into a positive vs. negative afterlife experience. The small island created a highly communal society, especially surrounding the cultivation and sharing of resources, reflected even today in the Japanese working environment. Mostly, they just cared about getting along in crowded conditions with limited resources. No system is perfect, and Japan has some very real problems facing it, but as a result, Japan lacks the highly volatile religious battles and separations arising from religions becoming power-centers like in Europe and eventually the Americas. While Japanese societal expectations are extremely high and focus on blending in, there was never a religious backed “hate-culture” arising from the church based on revenue generating personal belief systems.

Now that I’ve waxed sociological, I should mention we polished off the evening with delicious yakitori, a fireworks display, and a raffle where everyone got a wrapped gift. I myself won a box of tissues. As I’ve discussed, one can never have enough tissues in Japan. Japan is a wealthy country, but the people who live in this area are simple, salt of the Earth kind of folks. I’m very happy to be here.

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