Not far from Tokyo is the old port city of Yokohama where we spent our last night in Japan. Despite its many attractions heavily influenced by foreigners, many of whom have now made their home here, we settled for a walk along its waterfront park and a long, restful night. Our thoughts were now on what lay before us in the Soviet Union where we were now heading. We would not experience a consumer society again for a long time, and the islands of Japan probably epitomise consumerism more than anywhere else.
Curiously we were interrogated by a zealous policeman on our last day, like we were on the day of our arrival. He took so long that I feared we would miss our ship.
Thursday, July 17, 1980
Wednesday, July 16, 1980
A thousand experiences in Tokyo
Tokyo is expensive but no more expensive than Sydney, and as tourists we were never charged any more than the locals, though we could have been easily exploited. At all times, we were given every assistance to help us understand exactly what we were buying and how much it would cost us. Different customs, such as methods of bathing and prohibitions like not wearing footwear inside houses and some restaurants, were explained to us beforehand to prevent any embarrassment. More familiar utensils would be discreetly offered if we were having any difficulty eating with chopsticks. I wondered if the same consideration is shown to Japanese tourists in Sydney or anywhere else in Australia.
On our own again, we determined to see as much of Tokyo as possible though it would take many weeks to see all the major attractions in this vast city. By now we were becoming blase to the sight of temples and shrines and our adventures on the way to see them were becoming more significant. This was the case when we went to visit the Meiji shrine which was rebuilt by the war ravaged people of the city at the end of the Second World War. Near to the shrine we saw some of the oddly shaped cement and tiled buildings from Japan's hosting of the Olympic Games with rooves tapering towards the sky, now fallen into decay and drabness, having long ago fulfilled the purpose for which they were built. In the public park, adjacent to gardens surrounding the Meiji shrine, are the lovers, the drunks, the homeless and hopeless and others who for one reason or another seek privacy and anonymity in this heavily wooded and thickly shrubbed area.
That night we decided to treat ourselves to a restaurant in the neon wonderland of the Ginza. We settled on a Shabu Shabu restaurant mainly because the proprietor, seeing us vacillating outside his establishment, emerged to show us his English written menu. You cook the food yourself in boiling water which is used later to make soup. Needless to say the food was delicious and the service excellent. Unobtrusive but ever watchful eyes made sure we were comfortable. Although growing up in Asia, Elizabeth never mastered the basics. She was given a pair of trainer chopsticks bound together by elastic and forewarned about which bowls we drank from, dipped our food in, or whatever.
Time was running out for our stay in Tokyo and in Japan itself and with it came a greater pressure to see as much as possible. The trouble with seeing too much too quickly is that the sights start to run into one another and their impact lessens. So it was with the Imperial Palace's East Garden beside the stone walled moat of the Palace; Uno Park with Japan's largest zoo and the most miserable animals I have seen but with a great collection of cormorants and other birds on an enclosed lake; the old Asakusa Kannon Temple said to date from the seventh century with a narrow passage leading up to it between gaily decorated souvenir shops; and the Shinjuka area famous as a shopping and entertainment district; all fitted into one days touring.
We said our final farewells to the good hearted Katsuyasu over lunch, his head bobbing side to side as he ran to greet us (a difficult feat to achieve when I experimented later). He would dearly love to travel but is limited by the demands of Japanese employers who expect long-term loyalty and discourage people from changing jobs by scaling holidays and pay to the time a worker has remained with the company. Only a very brave (or foolish) man leaves his job to travel for any length of time even if he can raise the money.
We said goodbye to Tokyo by taking our only paid, organised tour, including the glittering cabaret show of the Mikado where some of Tokyo's two hundred thousand bar hostesses entertain businessmen on seemingly unlimited expense accounts, and a display of Geisha dancing in the last officially area of prostitution (such approval being withdrawn in the fifties though the area now abounds in massage parlours).
On our own again, we determined to see as much of Tokyo as possible though it would take many weeks to see all the major attractions in this vast city. By now we were becoming blase to the sight of temples and shrines and our adventures on the way to see them were becoming more significant. This was the case when we went to visit the Meiji shrine which was rebuilt by the war ravaged people of the city at the end of the Second World War. Near to the shrine we saw some of the oddly shaped cement and tiled buildings from Japan's hosting of the Olympic Games with rooves tapering towards the sky, now fallen into decay and drabness, having long ago fulfilled the purpose for which they were built. In the public park, adjacent to gardens surrounding the Meiji shrine, are the lovers, the drunks, the homeless and hopeless and others who for one reason or another seek privacy and anonymity in this heavily wooded and thickly shrubbed area.
That night we decided to treat ourselves to a restaurant in the neon wonderland of the Ginza. We settled on a Shabu Shabu restaurant mainly because the proprietor, seeing us vacillating outside his establishment, emerged to show us his English written menu. You cook the food yourself in boiling water which is used later to make soup. Needless to say the food was delicious and the service excellent. Unobtrusive but ever watchful eyes made sure we were comfortable. Although growing up in Asia, Elizabeth never mastered the basics. She was given a pair of trainer chopsticks bound together by elastic and forewarned about which bowls we drank from, dipped our food in, or whatever.
Time was running out for our stay in Tokyo and in Japan itself and with it came a greater pressure to see as much as possible. The trouble with seeing too much too quickly is that the sights start to run into one another and their impact lessens. So it was with the Imperial Palace's East Garden beside the stone walled moat of the Palace; Uno Park with Japan's largest zoo and the most miserable animals I have seen but with a great collection of cormorants and other birds on an enclosed lake; the old Asakusa Kannon Temple said to date from the seventh century with a narrow passage leading up to it between gaily decorated souvenir shops; and the Shinjuka area famous as a shopping and entertainment district; all fitted into one days touring.
We said our final farewells to the good hearted Katsuyasu over lunch, his head bobbing side to side as he ran to greet us (a difficult feat to achieve when I experimented later). He would dearly love to travel but is limited by the demands of Japanese employers who expect long-term loyalty and discourage people from changing jobs by scaling holidays and pay to the time a worker has remained with the company. Only a very brave (or foolish) man leaves his job to travel for any length of time even if he can raise the money.
We said goodbye to Tokyo by taking our only paid, organised tour, including the glittering cabaret show of the Mikado where some of Tokyo's two hundred thousand bar hostesses entertain businessmen on seemingly unlimited expense accounts, and a display of Geisha dancing in the last officially area of prostitution (such approval being withdrawn in the fifties though the area now abounds in massage parlours).
Monday, June 9, 1980
Nikko
We could not have asked for a better guide. Katsuyasu pointed out major landmarks, driving off the highway to take the old Nikko track, the narrow road passing through caverns of Japanese cedars.
After a long period of bloody civil war, the warrior leader Tokugawa Ieyasu established himself as shogun in 1603. Not surprisingly he was attracted to this peaceful place set amongst steep mountains and lush wooded greenery. Ieyasu ordered the erection of a mausoleum of the Toshagu Shrine at Mount Nikko where his ashes were to be deposited. For the next two hundred and fifty years the Tokugawa family ruled Japan and built similar shrines around this original that were dedicated to their rule. Toshagu (temple of the sun god of the east) became the focus of a cult dedicated to Ieyasu and shrines to him were duplicated throughout Japan.
The shrines at Nikko are different from those at Kyoto. The Nikko shrines are dedicated to warrior rulers. Wind and thunder are personified in fearsome statues and wall sculptures, a practice in building decoration adopted from China whose cultural influence was particularly strong during this era.
Too many wonders and too little time to take them in. For example, the so-called "all day gate" at the Toshagu Shrine where you could spend a whole day "reading" the stories depicted on it and the wooden house with skillful spacing of the timbers which expand and contract depending on the weather giving it a system of air-conditioning.
After lunch we drove further up the mountains along a treacherous winding road to a sheer cliff face where we rode an elevator, built into the mountain, down to the bottom of Kegan Falls where a little monument reminded us of the present ghosts of the many suicides who have leapt into its waters.
After a drive along Lake Chuzenji and a visit to another waterfall we sadly began the long drive back to Tokyo arriving at our hotel. We were worn out but well pleased with our adventures with Katsuyasu.
After a long period of bloody civil war, the warrior leader Tokugawa Ieyasu established himself as shogun in 1603. Not surprisingly he was attracted to this peaceful place set amongst steep mountains and lush wooded greenery. Ieyasu ordered the erection of a mausoleum of the Toshagu Shrine at Mount Nikko where his ashes were to be deposited. For the next two hundred and fifty years the Tokugawa family ruled Japan and built similar shrines around this original that were dedicated to their rule. Toshagu (temple of the sun god of the east) became the focus of a cult dedicated to Ieyasu and shrines to him were duplicated throughout Japan.
The shrines at Nikko are different from those at Kyoto. The Nikko shrines are dedicated to warrior rulers. Wind and thunder are personified in fearsome statues and wall sculptures, a practice in building decoration adopted from China whose cultural influence was particularly strong during this era.
Too many wonders and too little time to take them in. For example, the so-called "all day gate" at the Toshagu Shrine where you could spend a whole day "reading" the stories depicted on it and the wooden house with skillful spacing of the timbers which expand and contract depending on the weather giving it a system of air-conditioning.
After lunch we drove further up the mountains along a treacherous winding road to a sheer cliff face where we rode an elevator, built into the mountain, down to the bottom of Kegan Falls where a little monument reminded us of the present ghosts of the many suicides who have leapt into its waters.
After a drive along Lake Chuzenji and a visit to another waterfall we sadly began the long drive back to Tokyo arriving at our hotel. We were worn out but well pleased with our adventures with Katsuyasu.
Meeting Katsuyasu's family and friends
To be closer to the centre of the city we booked accommodation at the Tokyo Station Hotel for when we returned from Nikko. Checking out of the "Okubo House" we got into conversation with Hiroshi, a young Japanese man who claimed that he had rejected the conformity expected of him in Japan but was unable to find a life elsewhere. Being an orphan it was perhaps easier for him to make the break, but now he was an alien in his own country in which he saw little of worth, and he was equally rejected by his countrymen who found his attitude incomprehensible.
Hiroshi had just returned from spending seven years working and studying in the United States but he was no longer able to extend his stay in that country. He was in the process of applying to emigrate to a number of western countries but, in the meantime, resolved that he would have to live and work in Tokyo. Happy to be with people he felt most in common, he spent the day with us and we allowed him to talk longingly of his life in America.
Late in the afternoon we left Hiroshi and took the train to the outer suburbs where we had agreed to meet Katsuyasu. He had previously arranged that we should spend the night at his home so as to get an early start to Nikko the next day. As this was the night of his annual school reunion it was agreed that we should also go to that although he stressed that naturally he would have to spend most of his time with his friends and we would be left to ourselves.
Katsuyasu led us to a small pub and sat with us at the bar ordering food that he thought westerners would like. Eventually a number of his friends emerged from the entrance of a smoke filled room and entreated us to join them. We were met by a merry group seated on the floor around two large tables, the sexes being segregated to each table. They were all around twenty-two years of age and most looked like they were at the beginnings of successful careers. Typically the females were immaculately dressed and groomed to accentuate their beauty to the utmost. In contrast to the demureness of these women, the men lounged around their table, laughing and talking loudly. As seems a common addiction among Japanese men, many smoked heavily throughout the dinner.
Despite his previous warning and our protestations, Katsuyasu continued to shower us with attention through the night, introducing his friends and translating our communications with them. This was partly attributable to our being a social success with his friends, apart from one nationalist who drank too much and wanted to express his anger over Japan's surrender in the Second World War.
As the night wore on the rituals of such gatherings were carried out, for example, singing of the school song in which we were expected to pretend to join in and a speech by each of the males on what he had been doing recently. With encouragement from the males the sexes eventually intemingled, which alleviated Lib's discomfort in sitting at an all male table. We were encouraged to try many varied delicacies but Katsuyasu advised that on this occasion it was acceptable to refuse these offers whereas normally we would be obliged to accept graciously.
Late in the night we said our farewells. The more committed would carouse til the morning.
We eventually reached Katsuyasu's parents' home, a small two storied house sandwiched between similar buildings along a narrow lane, around one o'clock in the morning. To our embarrassment his mother had waited up with supper laid out for us. Hearing our arrival, his father also rose to greet us and a more intimate party ensued until Katsuyasu's father suggested that we should go to bed.
A hot bath had already been prepared. By now we were familiar with the process of thoroughly cleaning our body first and so avoiding embarrassment. However, western ideas of ladies first did lead to misunderstanding with Katsuyasu bringing fresh towells into the batroom assuming I'd be the one scrubbing down. He backed out the door quicker than Lib could cover up.
Breakfast was another feast. Katsuyasu's mother served strawberries crushed in milk, salad, seaweed and rice and many other less describable dishes. With advice to Katsuyasu from his father to take care of his car we were on our way to Nikko by mid-morning. The delightfulness of this family will stay with us for a long time. They accepted us warmly although we were the first Europeans they had invited into their home. Their only concern was that their home might be too modest for what we were accustomed.
Hiroshi had just returned from spending seven years working and studying in the United States but he was no longer able to extend his stay in that country. He was in the process of applying to emigrate to a number of western countries but, in the meantime, resolved that he would have to live and work in Tokyo. Happy to be with people he felt most in common, he spent the day with us and we allowed him to talk longingly of his life in America.
Late in the afternoon we left Hiroshi and took the train to the outer suburbs where we had agreed to meet Katsuyasu. He had previously arranged that we should spend the night at his home so as to get an early start to Nikko the next day. As this was the night of his annual school reunion it was agreed that we should also go to that although he stressed that naturally he would have to spend most of his time with his friends and we would be left to ourselves.
Katsuyasu led us to a small pub and sat with us at the bar ordering food that he thought westerners would like. Eventually a number of his friends emerged from the entrance of a smoke filled room and entreated us to join them. We were met by a merry group seated on the floor around two large tables, the sexes being segregated to each table. They were all around twenty-two years of age and most looked like they were at the beginnings of successful careers. Typically the females were immaculately dressed and groomed to accentuate their beauty to the utmost. In contrast to the demureness of these women, the men lounged around their table, laughing and talking loudly. As seems a common addiction among Japanese men, many smoked heavily throughout the dinner.
Despite his previous warning and our protestations, Katsuyasu continued to shower us with attention through the night, introducing his friends and translating our communications with them. This was partly attributable to our being a social success with his friends, apart from one nationalist who drank too much and wanted to express his anger over Japan's surrender in the Second World War.
As the night wore on the rituals of such gatherings were carried out, for example, singing of the school song in which we were expected to pretend to join in and a speech by each of the males on what he had been doing recently. With encouragement from the males the sexes eventually intemingled, which alleviated Lib's discomfort in sitting at an all male table. We were encouraged to try many varied delicacies but Katsuyasu advised that on this occasion it was acceptable to refuse these offers whereas normally we would be obliged to accept graciously.
Late in the night we said our farewells. The more committed would carouse til the morning.
We eventually reached Katsuyasu's parents' home, a small two storied house sandwiched between similar buildings along a narrow lane, around one o'clock in the morning. To our embarrassment his mother had waited up with supper laid out for us. Hearing our arrival, his father also rose to greet us and a more intimate party ensued until Katsuyasu's father suggested that we should go to bed.
A hot bath had already been prepared. By now we were familiar with the process of thoroughly cleaning our body first and so avoiding embarrassment. However, western ideas of ladies first did lead to misunderstanding with Katsuyasu bringing fresh towells into the batroom assuming I'd be the one scrubbing down. He backed out the door quicker than Lib could cover up.
Breakfast was another feast. Katsuyasu's mother served strawberries crushed in milk, salad, seaweed and rice and many other less describable dishes. With advice to Katsuyasu from his father to take care of his car we were on our way to Nikko by mid-morning. The delightfulness of this family will stay with us for a long time. They accepted us warmly although we were the first Europeans they had invited into their home. Their only concern was that their home might be too modest for what we were accustomed.
Saturday, June 7, 1980
Tokyo and meeting Katsuyasu
After a lot of prevaricating we succumbed to the glamour of travelling to Tokyo on the famous Shinkansen (or bullet train) despite its uncharacteristically high cost to what we had been used to in Japan. On a journey that would normally take all day on conventional transport, we were in Tokyo in a couple of hours. The scenery along the way was not to be missed with its patchwork of paddy fields, the beautiful Hamana Lagoon, and, of course, Mount Fuji, which was uncharacteristically clear.
Without much difficulty, we obtained accommodation at a cheap Japanese-style guest house, called the "Okuba House", mainly patronised by working men from the country. Mrs Uno's house had partly prepared us for such accommodation, except that this was now patronsied by Japanese and the bathing facilities were Japanese style. With heart in my mouth, I had to line up in the hallway with other naked men to proceed into a large bathroom where we squatted down on little stools side by side and meticulously washed every part of our bodies. Only when this was done was it permissable to soak in the bath at the end of the room. The bath was meant for relaxation and not for cleansing. Self consciously I passed through the ritual of scrubbing myself with the small towel that was provided for both washing and drying, and moved along the stools to the bath. I prayed that I would not commit the unpardonable sin of leaving any sign of my presence in the bath, the water of which would not be changed until the following day. I was so pleased to leave that crowded bathroom. Being the only woman in the guest house, Libby had a bathroom and bath completely to herself, and thought the system was marvellous. With such obstacles overcome, we were able to turn our attention to Tokyo.
Not enough superlatives can do justice to Tokyo. It was big, bustling, exciting and, unfortunately, expensive and polluted. Right in the centre of the city is the imposing Imperial Palace surrounded by an expanse of gardens where we spent many hours.
Tokugawa Ieyasu, the first of his family to rule Japan in the last era of Shogunate power, had built, by the labour of three thousand men supplied by his feudal subordinates, the colossal castle at Edo (Tokyo) where he set up his capital. The inner stone ramparts of this fortress were occupied by the Emperor when he moved to Tokyo in 1868. Within these walls, and the surrounding moat, he had built his Imperial Palace. He would never have guessed that a couple of Australian tourists would one day be coming by underground train to view his mighty work, or would he? Tokugawa Ieyasu was very progressive.
The city train system, both under and above ground, with its many aids for the English speaking tourist, made movement about the city relatively easy. With all this if you should still get lost there was always the ever present Good Samaritan. In this context we had our first meeting with a young man, Katsuyasu, who was to become our good friend. Rushing to complete an errand for work he took time to help us with directions and then disappeared from our lives, or so we thought.
Of the many countries we planned to visit on our travels, the most discouraging of the official representatives in Australia were the British. We were taught in childhood to believe Britain was the old home country. To settle concerns about entry we spent a tiring day tracking down the British Embassy and, after a thorough interrogation of our financial status, we were granted an "Entry Certificate". Exhausted we returned to the "Okuba House" for an early night only to be disturbed by our landlord who indicated that we had a visitor. Hastily pulling on the kimino gown provided by the guest house I went downstairs to be confronted by none other than the good Katsuyasu.
Katsuyasu, an address we rarely used because of the illusiveness of its pronunciation, had tracked us down from our chance dropping the name of our lodgings. To disguise what seemed a characteristic shyness of Japanese in initiating contact simply for friendship's sake, he claimed that he wanted to talk to us so as to improve his ability to converse with Australians who he came into contact with in his job at a travel agency. This request seemed plausible as Katsuyasu, like many Japanese, had a good understanding of English but his pronunciation made him sometimes unintelligible, particularly to us Australians with our own peculiar form of spoken English. As familiarity grew over a cup of coffee, Katsuyasu gave up his pretense of wanting us to correct his pronunciation. He offered to take us on a sightseeing trip to Nikko on Sunday when he would not be working.
Without much difficulty, we obtained accommodation at a cheap Japanese-style guest house, called the "Okuba House", mainly patronised by working men from the country. Mrs Uno's house had partly prepared us for such accommodation, except that this was now patronsied by Japanese and the bathing facilities were Japanese style. With heart in my mouth, I had to line up in the hallway with other naked men to proceed into a large bathroom where we squatted down on little stools side by side and meticulously washed every part of our bodies. Only when this was done was it permissable to soak in the bath at the end of the room. The bath was meant for relaxation and not for cleansing. Self consciously I passed through the ritual of scrubbing myself with the small towel that was provided for both washing and drying, and moved along the stools to the bath. I prayed that I would not commit the unpardonable sin of leaving any sign of my presence in the bath, the water of which would not be changed until the following day. I was so pleased to leave that crowded bathroom. Being the only woman in the guest house, Libby had a bathroom and bath completely to herself, and thought the system was marvellous. With such obstacles overcome, we were able to turn our attention to Tokyo.
Not enough superlatives can do justice to Tokyo. It was big, bustling, exciting and, unfortunately, expensive and polluted. Right in the centre of the city is the imposing Imperial Palace surrounded by an expanse of gardens where we spent many hours.
Tokugawa Ieyasu, the first of his family to rule Japan in the last era of Shogunate power, had built, by the labour of three thousand men supplied by his feudal subordinates, the colossal castle at Edo (Tokyo) where he set up his capital. The inner stone ramparts of this fortress were occupied by the Emperor when he moved to Tokyo in 1868. Within these walls, and the surrounding moat, he had built his Imperial Palace. He would never have guessed that a couple of Australian tourists would one day be coming by underground train to view his mighty work, or would he? Tokugawa Ieyasu was very progressive.
The city train system, both under and above ground, with its many aids for the English speaking tourist, made movement about the city relatively easy. With all this if you should still get lost there was always the ever present Good Samaritan. In this context we had our first meeting with a young man, Katsuyasu, who was to become our good friend. Rushing to complete an errand for work he took time to help us with directions and then disappeared from our lives, or so we thought.
Of the many countries we planned to visit on our travels, the most discouraging of the official representatives in Australia were the British. We were taught in childhood to believe Britain was the old home country. To settle concerns about entry we spent a tiring day tracking down the British Embassy and, after a thorough interrogation of our financial status, we were granted an "Entry Certificate". Exhausted we returned to the "Okuba House" for an early night only to be disturbed by our landlord who indicated that we had a visitor. Hastily pulling on the kimino gown provided by the guest house I went downstairs to be confronted by none other than the good Katsuyasu.
Katsuyasu, an address we rarely used because of the illusiveness of its pronunciation, had tracked us down from our chance dropping the name of our lodgings. To disguise what seemed a characteristic shyness of Japanese in initiating contact simply for friendship's sake, he claimed that he wanted to talk to us so as to improve his ability to converse with Australians who he came into contact with in his job at a travel agency. This request seemed plausible as Katsuyasu, like many Japanese, had a good understanding of English but his pronunciation made him sometimes unintelligible, particularly to us Australians with our own peculiar form of spoken English. As familiarity grew over a cup of coffee, Katsuyasu gave up his pretense of wanting us to correct his pronunciation. He offered to take us on a sightseeing trip to Nikko on Sunday when he would not be working.
Monday, June 2, 1980
Farewell Mrs Uno
Our landlady avoided suffering the many intrusions into her home by pretending that they did not exist. Around her you had the feeling that you were mysteriously invisible, that is unless you had the misfortune to break one of her many contradictory house rules. Then she would suddenly become animated and let forth with a stream of reprimands, most of which were thankfully unintelligible.
However, on the morning of our leaving she metamorphised into a kindly, mother figure. Her only request was that we should recommend her lodgings to any other travellers we should meet. She even agreed to have her photograph taken in front of her establishment. With much straightening of clothes and futile attempts at pushing her straggling grey hair into place, she considered herself ready to be immortalised on film. We were then farewelled in the manner of ones she had taken to her heart. Sadly the film was exposed and consequently destroyed by Soviet security when we crossed the border from the Ukraine into Poland.
However, on the morning of our leaving she metamorphised into a kindly, mother figure. Her only request was that we should recommend her lodgings to any other travellers we should meet. She even agreed to have her photograph taken in front of her establishment. With much straightening of clothes and futile attempts at pushing her straggling grey hair into place, she considered herself ready to be immortalised on film. We were then farewelled in the manner of ones she had taken to her heart. Sadly the film was exposed and consequently destroyed by Soviet security when we crossed the border from the Ukraine into Poland.
Friday, May 30, 1980
Nara
For a day trip to Nara we teamed up with a young Canadian, Mark. He volunteered to do the travel research, but despite his extreme confidence in his ability to be the guide, we arrived an hour late and a little disgruntled.
During the eighth century, the first permanent capital for the Imperial court was at Nara. The old rectangular designed city, based on the Chinese model, was allowed to decay after the capital was moved away.
The temples, palaces and castles of Japan are mostly made of wood and thus difficult to preserve. Many have been totally rebuilt. As Nara had been neglected for centuries, it is now only a shadow of its former grandeur. However, the the temples and shrines that remain bear witness to the strength of the Buddhist sects that thrived there. These are enhanced by being situated in a large park with roaming deer who have been immortalised in statue.
At the Kasuga Shrine with the many stone lanterns leading up to it, I gave way to temptation and bought a prediction of my future fortune, which was based on my having been born in the year of the bull. This was supplied by a "holy maiden", whose interpretation of my fortune was not too promising. To counteract this, she convinced me to buy a lucky charm whose tingling bells would bring me good luck by calling on Budha each time they were rung. Unfortunately the charm is now bringing good fortune to a quick fingered Bolshevik in Leningrad.
At the Todaiji Temple, we stood in awe at the Great Buddha, the biggest bronze Buddha in the world. The statue took fourteen years to complete, is fifty-three feet high and sits on a base sixty-eight feet in diameter. It is enclosed in a wooden, temple pavilion also said to be the biggest in the world.
At Nara, I saw my only pagoda in Japan, unlike China where they were everywhere. This was a wooden replacement for an earlier golden model.
After hours of sightseeing and disrupting many school parties we headed back to the arms of Mrs Uno. On the subject of the tremendous popularity of Europeans to young school children, we found it fatal to give in to their demands for autographs. We saw a small, middle-aged European woman give into these demands inside the Todaiji Temple. I moved forward to warn her but she sealed her fate by squatting down to write better. 'For God's sake keep above them!' But it was too late and she disappeared under a sea of children waving their autograph books at where she had stood ony a moment before.
During the eighth century, the first permanent capital for the Imperial court was at Nara. The old rectangular designed city, based on the Chinese model, was allowed to decay after the capital was moved away.
The temples, palaces and castles of Japan are mostly made of wood and thus difficult to preserve. Many have been totally rebuilt. As Nara had been neglected for centuries, it is now only a shadow of its former grandeur. However, the the temples and shrines that remain bear witness to the strength of the Buddhist sects that thrived there. These are enhanced by being situated in a large park with roaming deer who have been immortalised in statue.
At the Kasuga Shrine with the many stone lanterns leading up to it, I gave way to temptation and bought a prediction of my future fortune, which was based on my having been born in the year of the bull. This was supplied by a "holy maiden", whose interpretation of my fortune was not too promising. To counteract this, she convinced me to buy a lucky charm whose tingling bells would bring me good luck by calling on Budha each time they were rung. Unfortunately the charm is now bringing good fortune to a quick fingered Bolshevik in Leningrad.
At the Todaiji Temple, we stood in awe at the Great Buddha, the biggest bronze Buddha in the world. The statue took fourteen years to complete, is fifty-three feet high and sits on a base sixty-eight feet in diameter. It is enclosed in a wooden, temple pavilion also said to be the biggest in the world.
At Nara, I saw my only pagoda in Japan, unlike China where they were everywhere. This was a wooden replacement for an earlier golden model.
After hours of sightseeing and disrupting many school parties we headed back to the arms of Mrs Uno. On the subject of the tremendous popularity of Europeans to young school children, we found it fatal to give in to their demands for autographs. We saw a small, middle-aged European woman give into these demands inside the Todaiji Temple. I moved forward to warn her but she sealed her fate by squatting down to write better. 'For God's sake keep above them!' But it was too late and she disappeared under a sea of children waving their autograph books at where she had stood ony a moment before.
Thursday, May 29, 1980
Kyoto and Mrs Uno
Arriving in Osaka at five in the afternoon we started directly for our hotel so as to be settled in before dinner. Unfortunately we had to do this from the Umeda railway station. Umeda is really an underground maze of arcades linking three subway stations, two private railway stations and a government run inter-city railway station. We became hopelessly lost. The people were not as helpful as we were used to in Japan, apparently suffering the indifference of residents of most big cities. We were despairing of rescue, but then a Good Samaritan did come forward in the form of an English speaking young woman who, despite getting lost herself a number of times, eventually led us to the right street exit for our hotel.
The Umeda underground arcades are truly breathtaking. One area has been designed like the inside of a large cathedral, complete with recorded hymn music. This temple to commercialism was surprising congruent with its surroundings of attractive food and speciality shops competing to attract the attention of the thousands of passer-bys.
We became lost again the next day when we tried to catch the train to Kyoto. We were again rescued. Our guide explained that he was repaying similar assistance he had once received when lost in the Paris Metro.
The trip to Kyoto was memorable for our being crowded in with a carriage of school children. Being part of a large group, they lost their usual shyness. The children's inquisitiveness ranged from staring and giggling to demanding autographs and attempting a conversation, mainly a screamed 'Hello!'. The more adventurous were egged on by their less courageous schoolmates.
Farewelling our youthful admirers at Kyoto station, we had little difficulty in finding the government run tourist information office, the only one outside of Tokyo. From here we were directed to the accommodation of the redoubtable Mrs Uno who must have some of the cheapest rates in Japan, charging the equivalent of $A4 per person per night. Mrs Uno was so rugged up that she must have forgotten that winter ended long ago. She was little, old and bent-over, but she ran her establishment with an iron hand, which was probably a good thing because she was popular with some desperate travellers who relied on their wits to stay alive. We were advised by some of these on how to get a travelling stake by selling blood in Taipei, where to sell goods bought duty free, how to use the black market to best advantage, and where to go to get accommodation for next to nothing or payment in kind with doubtful legality.
This deceptively small looking establishment had numerous rooms hidden in the most unlikely of places around a tiny, cluttered, central courtyard. Some of the rooms had to be reached by climbing a ladder to what at first sight appeared to be the roof.
We had a small room to ourselves. The only furnishing was a small table that we would remove at night to lay our futon on the matted floor.
Mrs Uno provided a lot of facilities, including a washing machine and clothes dryer and well used kitchen, although they all required money to be made useable. These facilities were all off the central courtyard, as were the toilets and shower. To reach them from our room we had to put on slippers that were removed once a wooden floor was reached. As in most Japanese homes, shoes were removed at the entrance.
Further increasing the appearance of clutter, Mrs Uno had signs in English stating the house rules plastered all over her establishment. Many of these notices had contradictory instructions having been devised at different times and to different whims of the lady of the house. She was centrally located in old Kyoto.
At the beginning of the ninth century, the Imperial residence was transferred from Nara to a new capital called Heian-kyo (capital of peace and tranquility). The Emperor did this to escape the political intrigue of Budhist priests and their allies who had surrounded him. However, as soon as the symmetrical streets and elaborate palaces were laid out, the priests also decided to move to the new capital. Peace and tranquility was disrupted and the name of the new city was changed to Kyoto (western capital). Kyoto is now famous as an old Imperial city and as the centre of much of Japan's religious life. Many famous temples and shrines were built on prime sites secured by powerful religious leaders all those years ago.
Often of the temples reflect the association between Emperor and religion. Under the native religious tradition of Japan, kown as Shinto, the Emperor was considered a deity, as well as high priest. When Buddhism was imported from China it incorporated much of the Shinto religion, including the religious leadership of the Emperor. One temple is actually a replica of the old Imperial palace.
The temples have been exploited to the full as tourist attractions, and it was hard to experience them as places of worship, although they are still used for that purpose. For me, the most spiritually alive of the temples we visited was Chion-in, the head temple of the Jodo sect, one of the many Buddhist sects that have developed in Japan.
Jodo was founded in the twelfth century with the claim that the main stream of Buddhism had become too detached from the common people. A simple form of of worship was devised, namely that by the mere repetition of Buddha's name, "Namu Amida Butsu", the land of Perfect Bliss could be attained. Priests and devotees still can be seen practicing this now old, but in their time revolutionary, form of worship.
Chion-in Temple was a large and imposing building set amidst smaller temples and a large park.
To me, a foreigner to Japanese religious architecture, the major temples and shrines follwed a similar design. The buildings are set high so that you must first climb a lot of stairs. Before setting foot on the verandah, which encircle the temples, you must have removed your shoes. Inside the temple there is an open area for worshippers to kneel, and then a barricade behind which the priests perform their duties surrounded by many religious ornaments. Even further into the building is a large screen behind which sits the statue of Buddha. Most of the temples and shrines had a large bell, which worshippers could ring, as well as clapping their hands, to invoke Buddha, and a shop where they could buy a reading of their fortune or buy a lucky charm, for example, to become pregnant. In the grounds there is usually a drinking fountain, the waters of which are considered holy.
Rain again set in and we transferred our touring of old Kyoto to a few of Kyoto's many undercover shopping arcades, as well as attending Sunday mass, and reflecting on the people we encountered.
After the Second World War, Japan developed many close associations with the English speaking world, particularly the United States. A great amount of time and money has been spent on teaching English, especially to the young. However, despite a high level of comprehension of written English among students from Japanese schools, pronunciation has been very poor. Consequently there was a great demand for English speaking teachers from abroad who could easily, without any teaching qualifications or experience, obtain casual work with minimal immigration restrictions. A band of drifters, who have forsaken middle class lives in homelands like Americal and Australia to live perilous existences in the East, are drawn to Japan to benefit from the above conditions. Quite a number of them stayed at Mrs Uno's. Some settled down to working in Japan, but many more were discontented, finding a settled work life as unbearable here as it had been in their land of origin.
With the end of the rain we resumed serious sight-seeing. By walking in any direction in old Kyoto, we would see some shrine to one of the many versions of Buddha, usually with fresh flowers placed before an open alter. Some of these structures were surrounded by beautiful gardens planned to a traditional pattern. Many of the Japanese tourists and devotees went through the various rituals to invoke Buddha's good fortune. They purchased a slip of paper from the priests foretelling their future, and if this paper foretold bad fortune they could tie it to a tree where the predicted bad fortune would be blown away. Trees adorned with this white paper added another dimension to the lanscape.
We visited the old Imperial Palace, which was still used for royal functions, and the Nijo Castle, once the Kyoto residence of the power wielding Shogun and his many concubines. These imposing buildings were convered in layers upon layer of bark until the roof was a couple of feet thick, which was then replaced every thirty years. From the twelfth century political power in Japan had been in the hands of the ruling Shogunate, nominally appointed by the Emperor who was still, at least in theory, the divine ruler, and feudal lords. Not until 1868 did the Emperor regain political power and transfer his court from Kyoto to Tokyo in what is known as the Meiji (enlightened rule) Restoration.
Despite Kyoto's history and many grand monuments, it was also interesting to just sit by the bank of the canal that traverses the city and take in the sights of everyday life. We sat fascinated watching proud dog owners trying to control and train their unruly charges while obedient wives followed behind clutching newspaper and valiantly tried to prevent the product of the animals' natural functions from reaching the ground.
The Umeda underground arcades are truly breathtaking. One area has been designed like the inside of a large cathedral, complete with recorded hymn music. This temple to commercialism was surprising congruent with its surroundings of attractive food and speciality shops competing to attract the attention of the thousands of passer-bys.
We became lost again the next day when we tried to catch the train to Kyoto. We were again rescued. Our guide explained that he was repaying similar assistance he had once received when lost in the Paris Metro.
The trip to Kyoto was memorable for our being crowded in with a carriage of school children. Being part of a large group, they lost their usual shyness. The children's inquisitiveness ranged from staring and giggling to demanding autographs and attempting a conversation, mainly a screamed 'Hello!'. The more adventurous were egged on by their less courageous schoolmates.
Farewelling our youthful admirers at Kyoto station, we had little difficulty in finding the government run tourist information office, the only one outside of Tokyo. From here we were directed to the accommodation of the redoubtable Mrs Uno who must have some of the cheapest rates in Japan, charging the equivalent of $A4 per person per night. Mrs Uno was so rugged up that she must have forgotten that winter ended long ago. She was little, old and bent-over, but she ran her establishment with an iron hand, which was probably a good thing because she was popular with some desperate travellers who relied on their wits to stay alive. We were advised by some of these on how to get a travelling stake by selling blood in Taipei, where to sell goods bought duty free, how to use the black market to best advantage, and where to go to get accommodation for next to nothing or payment in kind with doubtful legality.
This deceptively small looking establishment had numerous rooms hidden in the most unlikely of places around a tiny, cluttered, central courtyard. Some of the rooms had to be reached by climbing a ladder to what at first sight appeared to be the roof.
We had a small room to ourselves. The only furnishing was a small table that we would remove at night to lay our futon on the matted floor.
Mrs Uno provided a lot of facilities, including a washing machine and clothes dryer and well used kitchen, although they all required money to be made useable. These facilities were all off the central courtyard, as were the toilets and shower. To reach them from our room we had to put on slippers that were removed once a wooden floor was reached. As in most Japanese homes, shoes were removed at the entrance.
Further increasing the appearance of clutter, Mrs Uno had signs in English stating the house rules plastered all over her establishment. Many of these notices had contradictory instructions having been devised at different times and to different whims of the lady of the house. She was centrally located in old Kyoto.
At the beginning of the ninth century, the Imperial residence was transferred from Nara to a new capital called Heian-kyo (capital of peace and tranquility). The Emperor did this to escape the political intrigue of Budhist priests and their allies who had surrounded him. However, as soon as the symmetrical streets and elaborate palaces were laid out, the priests also decided to move to the new capital. Peace and tranquility was disrupted and the name of the new city was changed to Kyoto (western capital). Kyoto is now famous as an old Imperial city and as the centre of much of Japan's religious life. Many famous temples and shrines were built on prime sites secured by powerful religious leaders all those years ago.
Often of the temples reflect the association between Emperor and religion. Under the native religious tradition of Japan, kown as Shinto, the Emperor was considered a deity, as well as high priest. When Buddhism was imported from China it incorporated much of the Shinto religion, including the religious leadership of the Emperor. One temple is actually a replica of the old Imperial palace.
The temples have been exploited to the full as tourist attractions, and it was hard to experience them as places of worship, although they are still used for that purpose. For me, the most spiritually alive of the temples we visited was Chion-in, the head temple of the Jodo sect, one of the many Buddhist sects that have developed in Japan.
Jodo was founded in the twelfth century with the claim that the main stream of Buddhism had become too detached from the common people. A simple form of of worship was devised, namely that by the mere repetition of Buddha's name, "Namu Amida Butsu", the land of Perfect Bliss could be attained. Priests and devotees still can be seen practicing this now old, but in their time revolutionary, form of worship.
Chion-in Temple was a large and imposing building set amidst smaller temples and a large park.
To me, a foreigner to Japanese religious architecture, the major temples and shrines follwed a similar design. The buildings are set high so that you must first climb a lot of stairs. Before setting foot on the verandah, which encircle the temples, you must have removed your shoes. Inside the temple there is an open area for worshippers to kneel, and then a barricade behind which the priests perform their duties surrounded by many religious ornaments. Even further into the building is a large screen behind which sits the statue of Buddha. Most of the temples and shrines had a large bell, which worshippers could ring, as well as clapping their hands, to invoke Buddha, and a shop where they could buy a reading of their fortune or buy a lucky charm, for example, to become pregnant. In the grounds there is usually a drinking fountain, the waters of which are considered holy.
Rain again set in and we transferred our touring of old Kyoto to a few of Kyoto's many undercover shopping arcades, as well as attending Sunday mass, and reflecting on the people we encountered.
After the Second World War, Japan developed many close associations with the English speaking world, particularly the United States. A great amount of time and money has been spent on teaching English, especially to the young. However, despite a high level of comprehension of written English among students from Japanese schools, pronunciation has been very poor. Consequently there was a great demand for English speaking teachers from abroad who could easily, without any teaching qualifications or experience, obtain casual work with minimal immigration restrictions. A band of drifters, who have forsaken middle class lives in homelands like Americal and Australia to live perilous existences in the East, are drawn to Japan to benefit from the above conditions. Quite a number of them stayed at Mrs Uno's. Some settled down to working in Japan, but many more were discontented, finding a settled work life as unbearable here as it had been in their land of origin.
With the end of the rain we resumed serious sight-seeing. By walking in any direction in old Kyoto, we would see some shrine to one of the many versions of Buddha, usually with fresh flowers placed before an open alter. Some of these structures were surrounded by beautiful gardens planned to a traditional pattern. Many of the Japanese tourists and devotees went through the various rituals to invoke Buddha's good fortune. They purchased a slip of paper from the priests foretelling their future, and if this paper foretold bad fortune they could tie it to a tree where the predicted bad fortune would be blown away. Trees adorned with this white paper added another dimension to the lanscape.
We visited the old Imperial Palace, which was still used for royal functions, and the Nijo Castle, once the Kyoto residence of the power wielding Shogun and his many concubines. These imposing buildings were convered in layers upon layer of bark until the roof was a couple of feet thick, which was then replaced every thirty years. From the twelfth century political power in Japan had been in the hands of the ruling Shogunate, nominally appointed by the Emperor who was still, at least in theory, the divine ruler, and feudal lords. Not until 1868 did the Emperor regain political power and transfer his court from Kyoto to Tokyo in what is known as the Meiji (enlightened rule) Restoration.
Despite Kyoto's history and many grand monuments, it was also interesting to just sit by the bank of the canal that traverses the city and take in the sights of everyday life. We sat fascinated watching proud dog owners trying to control and train their unruly charges while obedient wives followed behind clutching newspaper and valiantly tried to prevent the product of the animals' natural functions from reaching the ground.
Sunday, May 25, 1980
Shikoku Island
By the time we reached our hotel in Matsuyama drenching rain had set in. Apart from a few teasing bursts of sunshine, wet weather continued for the duration of our stay on Shikoku Island. To us it meant inconvenience but for the people of the island it meant flash floods and ruined crops. Despite the weather, we persisted in visiting Matsuyama's principal tourist attraction, a wooden castle set on the top of a hill right in the middle of the city.
By this time our belief in Japanese efficiency was begining to be exposed as a myth created by an Australian Toyota salesman. Gross miscalculation appeared too often. Automatic vending machines contained items that were too big to be dispensed, while others required a degree in computer science. I gained a lot of entertainment watching hapless victims trying to dispense cups of coffee requiring use of multiple machines and a myriad of buttons and knobs. Few succeeded. Our trip to Takamatsu was another example of endearing human frailty.
Arriving at Matsuyama train station we were met with chaos as the rail line had been cut by flash flooding and the authorities were puzzling over what to do with an increasing build-up of commuters. Eventually we were shephereded onto buses which took us to a small railway siding in a village called Hojo, about an hour's drive from Matsuyama. A perplexed station master was suddenly landed with hundreds of impatient travellers and no trains for them as his station had also been cut off by flooding. He rushed back and forth and made desperate shouted attempts to restore some sembalnce of order with the crowd. Eventually he somehow arranged more buses to take us further along the line where we were finally crowded onto a local train. Although we were way behind schedule, we were delighted at the unexpected bonus of bus rides along minor country roads too narrow to be used by such big vehicles, through sleepy little fishing villages with cramped terrace houses and narrow lanes, and along cliff sides that fell away to turbulent seas. Any fears of our being lost or left behind were always quelled by a good Samaritan who would suddenly appear to ensure that we boarded the right bus or train and then merge back into the crowd.
When we were finally seated comfortably on the train to Takamatsu we were approached by an unusual looking middle-aged man whose parentage turned out to be a mixture of German and Japanese. Staring at us from behind a bulbous, pock-marked nose that seemed to fill most of his face, and in barely intelligible English, he introduced himself as a German who was working temporarily as a science teacher in Japan. He also introduced his companion, an attractive, but simple, local girl, whom he was attempting to convince to marry him and live in Munich. She, on the other hand, between long bouts of giggling, protested strongly against the idea of leaving her family and her beloved island. Despite his poor comprehension of English, he was teaching his girlfriend the language and despite our protestations took on the added task of teaching us Japanese.
Arriving in Takamatsu much later than planned, and in pouring rain, we decided to tempt fate by not taking advantage of the good fortune said to befall those who visited the famous shrine for travellers as it was some distance from the city. Instead we tramped through mud to see the equally famous city gardens, which were close to our hotel.
The next morning a short train ride took us to Tokushama where we boarded the ferry for Osaka. We failed to see the mysterious rolling waves that our tour planner in Kagoshima advised us not to miss, but we were compensated with panoramic views of the coast of Honshu Island where densely populated narrow strips of coastline snuggled between the sea and steep mountains. Our ferry trip was further enhanced by having the choice of sitting on floor matting or proper seats, and as most of our other travellers chose the former we had plenty of room.
Our trip so far had been marred by poor weather, but we were consoled by the knowledge that we had travelled through an area rarely explored by foreigners. We had only seen one other person of European origin the whole time, and the children were so unaccustomed to people like us that they really did cry at our sight.
By this time our belief in Japanese efficiency was begining to be exposed as a myth created by an Australian Toyota salesman. Gross miscalculation appeared too often. Automatic vending machines contained items that were too big to be dispensed, while others required a degree in computer science. I gained a lot of entertainment watching hapless victims trying to dispense cups of coffee requiring use of multiple machines and a myriad of buttons and knobs. Few succeeded. Our trip to Takamatsu was another example of endearing human frailty.
Arriving at Matsuyama train station we were met with chaos as the rail line had been cut by flash flooding and the authorities were puzzling over what to do with an increasing build-up of commuters. Eventually we were shephereded onto buses which took us to a small railway siding in a village called Hojo, about an hour's drive from Matsuyama. A perplexed station master was suddenly landed with hundreds of impatient travellers and no trains for them as his station had also been cut off by flooding. He rushed back and forth and made desperate shouted attempts to restore some sembalnce of order with the crowd. Eventually he somehow arranged more buses to take us further along the line where we were finally crowded onto a local train. Although we were way behind schedule, we were delighted at the unexpected bonus of bus rides along minor country roads too narrow to be used by such big vehicles, through sleepy little fishing villages with cramped terrace houses and narrow lanes, and along cliff sides that fell away to turbulent seas. Any fears of our being lost or left behind were always quelled by a good Samaritan who would suddenly appear to ensure that we boarded the right bus or train and then merge back into the crowd.
When we were finally seated comfortably on the train to Takamatsu we were approached by an unusual looking middle-aged man whose parentage turned out to be a mixture of German and Japanese. Staring at us from behind a bulbous, pock-marked nose that seemed to fill most of his face, and in barely intelligible English, he introduced himself as a German who was working temporarily as a science teacher in Japan. He also introduced his companion, an attractive, but simple, local girl, whom he was attempting to convince to marry him and live in Munich. She, on the other hand, between long bouts of giggling, protested strongly against the idea of leaving her family and her beloved island. Despite his poor comprehension of English, he was teaching his girlfriend the language and despite our protestations took on the added task of teaching us Japanese.
Arriving in Takamatsu much later than planned, and in pouring rain, we decided to tempt fate by not taking advantage of the good fortune said to befall those who visited the famous shrine for travellers as it was some distance from the city. Instead we tramped through mud to see the equally famous city gardens, which were close to our hotel.
The next morning a short train ride took us to Tokushama where we boarded the ferry for Osaka. We failed to see the mysterious rolling waves that our tour planner in Kagoshima advised us not to miss, but we were compensated with panoramic views of the coast of Honshu Island where densely populated narrow strips of coastline snuggled between the sea and steep mountains. Our ferry trip was further enhanced by having the choice of sitting on floor matting or proper seats, and as most of our other travellers chose the former we had plenty of room.
Our trip so far had been marred by poor weather, but we were consoled by the knowledge that we had travelled through an area rarely explored by foreigners. We had only seen one other person of European origin the whole time, and the children were so unaccustomed to people like us that they really did cry at our sight.
Thursday, May 22, 1980
Travelling across Kyūshū
A stranger I met at a party in Australia claimed to have travelled widely in Japan and advised against travelling to Kyoto via the major cities. We settled on travelling via Shikoku island, which in Japanese terms is not densely populated or so altered by post-war modernisation. Matsuyama, the biggest city, has a population of only 378,000 people.
A travel agent was chosen at random and fortunately he had some knowledge of English. Over three hours he persevered in booking all our accommodation and transport to Osaka, and writing out our directions in the minutest detail. His fee was very small and he even apologised for that.
Although we found very few Japanese could speak English, there were frequently signs written in American slang. Advertisers picked up on an apparent fascination with the language. Also most public signs in the Japanese variaton of Chinese script were duplicated with their Romanji, or latin, equivalent. Thus we had little difficulty in finding and boarding the train to Beppu, first travelling east to the other side of the island and then north through thickly wooded and hilly national parks. The Beppu area is famous for its thermal activity with boiling mud pools and health spas.
A half hour bus ride took us to the outskirts of Beppu, and then we had an equally long climb up what must be the steepest hill in the region to a spacious old hotel with magnificent views of the township and harbour. The traditionally dressed floor manageress guided us to a large, lavishly equipped room. She pointed to a freshly made pot of tea and Japanese sweets waiting for us on a table by the window, which filled one wall. Donning the customary robe and slippers, we reflected that such accommodation in Australia would have been beyond our budget.
The next morning was notable for our tour of the hot springs, each given a name suggesting an association with hell, and for sighting a European, the first since we arrived in Japan.
Beppu catered for non-Japanese even less than Kagoshima. On our self-guided walking tour of the hot springs we had to keep a constant eye on a woman we'd seen buy the same type of ticket as us. Luckily she wore a distinctive yellow dress. I wonder what she thought whenever she turned and found two foreigners keeping a watchful eye on her.
In the afternoon we filled our time while waiting for the ferry by walking around down town Beppu. Lib squealed in delight at each new pastry shop and I complained as each new purchase added to the weight of our day bag.
After boarding the ferry for Shikoku Island, we were directed to the bowels of the ship where a large open space housed all the economy travelling passangers. Everyone hurried along narrow passageways crowded with discarded shoes to claim a space on the raised floor covered with matting.
Many of our fellow passangers had already obtained blankets and little square foam pillows from somewhere. They then stripped down to their peculiar underwear. For the men this was very similar to long-johns with copious binding around the stomach. By the time the ferry pulled out of Beppu most of them had already drifted off to sleep. This was despite the noise from young men already engaged in all night games of chance, the mechanics of which I was unable to fathom.
I was getting the impression that Japan would be a feminist's nightmare. The men, particularly the young, were often noisy and playfully engaged in boyish games while their womenfolk waited quietly on the sidelines.
Incessant messages played over the loudspeakers. The Japanese appeared to accept these as part of their lives in public, and even private, spaces. I wondered how they would feel if these anonymous voices were ever stilled.
At six feet tall, most construction seemed minature, and an annoying part of daily travel. I even had to bend my head at quite an uncomfortable angle to be able to enjoy the benefits of the ferry urinals. The toilets, as with all public transport, were of the eastern variety, that is they required the user to squat. This novelty became even enjoyable after lots of practice, but presented challenges on a rolling ship in turbulent waters or a rocking train moving at top speed.
A travel agent was chosen at random and fortunately he had some knowledge of English. Over three hours he persevered in booking all our accommodation and transport to Osaka, and writing out our directions in the minutest detail. His fee was very small and he even apologised for that.
Although we found very few Japanese could speak English, there were frequently signs written in American slang. Advertisers picked up on an apparent fascination with the language. Also most public signs in the Japanese variaton of Chinese script were duplicated with their Romanji, or latin, equivalent. Thus we had little difficulty in finding and boarding the train to Beppu, first travelling east to the other side of the island and then north through thickly wooded and hilly national parks. The Beppu area is famous for its thermal activity with boiling mud pools and health spas.
A half hour bus ride took us to the outskirts of Beppu, and then we had an equally long climb up what must be the steepest hill in the region to a spacious old hotel with magnificent views of the township and harbour. The traditionally dressed floor manageress guided us to a large, lavishly equipped room. She pointed to a freshly made pot of tea and Japanese sweets waiting for us on a table by the window, which filled one wall. Donning the customary robe and slippers, we reflected that such accommodation in Australia would have been beyond our budget.
The next morning was notable for our tour of the hot springs, each given a name suggesting an association with hell, and for sighting a European, the first since we arrived in Japan.
Beppu catered for non-Japanese even less than Kagoshima. On our self-guided walking tour of the hot springs we had to keep a constant eye on a woman we'd seen buy the same type of ticket as us. Luckily she wore a distinctive yellow dress. I wonder what she thought whenever she turned and found two foreigners keeping a watchful eye on her.
In the afternoon we filled our time while waiting for the ferry by walking around down town Beppu. Lib squealed in delight at each new pastry shop and I complained as each new purchase added to the weight of our day bag.
After boarding the ferry for Shikoku Island, we were directed to the bowels of the ship where a large open space housed all the economy travelling passangers. Everyone hurried along narrow passageways crowded with discarded shoes to claim a space on the raised floor covered with matting.
Many of our fellow passangers had already obtained blankets and little square foam pillows from somewhere. They then stripped down to their peculiar underwear. For the men this was very similar to long-johns with copious binding around the stomach. By the time the ferry pulled out of Beppu most of them had already drifted off to sleep. This was despite the noise from young men already engaged in all night games of chance, the mechanics of which I was unable to fathom.
I was getting the impression that Japan would be a feminist's nightmare. The men, particularly the young, were often noisy and playfully engaged in boyish games while their womenfolk waited quietly on the sidelines.
Incessant messages played over the loudspeakers. The Japanese appeared to accept these as part of their lives in public, and even private, spaces. I wondered how they would feel if these anonymous voices were ever stilled.
At six feet tall, most construction seemed minature, and an annoying part of daily travel. I even had to bend my head at quite an uncomfortable angle to be able to enjoy the benefits of the ferry urinals. The toilets, as with all public transport, were of the eastern variety, that is they required the user to squat. This novelty became even enjoyable after lots of practice, but presented challenges on a rolling ship in turbulent waters or a rocking train moving at top speed.
Tuesday, May 20, 1980
Kagoshima
Christianity was first established in Japan by St Francis Xavier. St Francis and fellow Jesuit priests first made landfall in Kagoshima in 1549 but, because of opposition from the local authorities, they quickly transferred their evangelising efforts to the north-west of Kyushu Island. By 1614, when Christianity was officially banned and ruthlessly suppressed, there were estimated to be over half a million converts in Japan, a proportion of the population greater than the percentage of Christians in Japan today. The 1614 ban was not lifted until 1873.
Despite the best of intentions, we arrived too late for mass at the little St Francis Xavier Church. This was built in 1949 partly from a donation by the Vatican to celebrate the 400 year anniversary of the landing of St Francis Xavier in Kagoshima, and the beginning of Christianity's tragic history in Japan.
We then decided to visit Sakurajama Island with its still active volcano towering over Kagoshima and spewing smoke that settles as fine dust. This soot finds its way into everything, making eyes sore and teeth gritty. On our way to the pier, we were delayed by a young woman just wanting to talk. This would be the first of many encounters with people wishing to practice their English on us. We were also introduced to another common part of our touring in Japan and that was the many people who came forward to offer help when we needed it. In this case, an old, crippled man helped us understand the intricacies of the ticket machine for boarding the ferry.
The ferry ride provides magnificent views of the volcanic island. We had the deck to ourselves as the other passangers were in the bowel of the vessel watching televison. Baseball and wrestling were the most popular watched programs.
From the ferry terminal we took a hair-raising bus ride along a narrow, climbing road carved into the craggy volcanic rock deposited from by past eruptions. The smoke grew thicker and the ground appeared to vibrate. Lib took my hand in an exaggerated show of reassurance until I read from our brochure on the island. Eruptions occurred approximately every twenty years and from my calculations another one was due any tick of the clock. Perhaps by way of compensation for the constant Russian roulette imposed on the island's inahabitants, Sakurajama is also famous for producing the largest radishes and smallest oranges in the world.
Lunch at the summit was made eventful by a large group of middle-aged men who, laughing at us or with us, were very persistent in having us join them in drinking copious quantities of sake. After much shaking of hands and hearty farewells more appropriate to friends of long standing, we escaped back to the plastic marvels of downtown Kagoshima where, despite it being Sunday and a bank holiday, all the shops and department staores were carrying on a vigourous trade.
Cars with loudspeakers prowled the streets blaring out commercials or political messages. Direct or door to door canvassing is not allowed. Even in our hotel room the noise intruded. Shops went to extraordinary lengths with their displays: bright, colourful and always so clean. Pinball parlours blared out popular songs next to delicious looking pastry shops. Young college men in black uniforms and boys wearing caps like those of the US Civil War wandered the streets. Everyone was immaculately dressed. Men wore the obligatory tie, even when being tourists, and women dressed like fashion plates, with the occasional one wearing the kimino.
Kagoshima is now a relatively out of the way provincial capital, but it was once the capital of the powerful Satsuma clan. In August, 1863 a British squadron bombarded Kagoshima because of the clan's refusal to pay reparations for some of its members killing an Englishman. This brought about a change in the clan's williingness to open itself to western influences, particularly industry and armaments. Thus strengthened they were able to support the Emperor in replacing the Tokugawa Shogunate's rule of Japan in 1868.
Despite the best of intentions, we arrived too late for mass at the little St Francis Xavier Church. This was built in 1949 partly from a donation by the Vatican to celebrate the 400 year anniversary of the landing of St Francis Xavier in Kagoshima, and the beginning of Christianity's tragic history in Japan.
We then decided to visit Sakurajama Island with its still active volcano towering over Kagoshima and spewing smoke that settles as fine dust. This soot finds its way into everything, making eyes sore and teeth gritty. On our way to the pier, we were delayed by a young woman just wanting to talk. This would be the first of many encounters with people wishing to practice their English on us. We were also introduced to another common part of our touring in Japan and that was the many people who came forward to offer help when we needed it. In this case, an old, crippled man helped us understand the intricacies of the ticket machine for boarding the ferry.
The ferry ride provides magnificent views of the volcanic island. We had the deck to ourselves as the other passangers were in the bowel of the vessel watching televison. Baseball and wrestling were the most popular watched programs.
From the ferry terminal we took a hair-raising bus ride along a narrow, climbing road carved into the craggy volcanic rock deposited from by past eruptions. The smoke grew thicker and the ground appeared to vibrate. Lib took my hand in an exaggerated show of reassurance until I read from our brochure on the island. Eruptions occurred approximately every twenty years and from my calculations another one was due any tick of the clock. Perhaps by way of compensation for the constant Russian roulette imposed on the island's inahabitants, Sakurajama is also famous for producing the largest radishes and smallest oranges in the world.
Lunch at the summit was made eventful by a large group of middle-aged men who, laughing at us or with us, were very persistent in having us join them in drinking copious quantities of sake. After much shaking of hands and hearty farewells more appropriate to friends of long standing, we escaped back to the plastic marvels of downtown Kagoshima where, despite it being Sunday and a bank holiday, all the shops and department staores were carrying on a vigourous trade.
Cars with loudspeakers prowled the streets blaring out commercials or political messages. Direct or door to door canvassing is not allowed. Even in our hotel room the noise intruded. Shops went to extraordinary lengths with their displays: bright, colourful and always so clean. Pinball parlours blared out popular songs next to delicious looking pastry shops. Young college men in black uniforms and boys wearing caps like those of the US Civil War wandered the streets. Everyone was immaculately dressed. Men wore the obligatory tie, even when being tourists, and women dressed like fashion plates, with the occasional one wearing the kimino.
Kagoshima is now a relatively out of the way provincial capital, but it was once the capital of the powerful Satsuma clan. In August, 1863 a British squadron bombarded Kagoshima because of the clan's refusal to pay reparations for some of its members killing an Englishman. This brought about a change in the clan's williingness to open itself to western influences, particularly industry and armaments. Thus strengthened they were able to support the Emperor in replacing the Tokugawa Shogunate's rule of Japan in 1868.
Sunday, May 18, 1980
Arriving in Japan
JAL jet from Hong Kong to Kagoshima. Virtually empty - only a few Japanese businessmen and us. Lots of attention from the hostesses. This should have been a warning. We were headed where unprepared foreigners did not go, especially late on a Saturday afternoon.
The airport is set deep in the countryside, equidistant from three major cities. Services are geared to the main users - Japanese travelling locally - hence no money changing facilities.
We located an Information and Tourist Officer. Through communication by gestures and a few mispronounced words of Japanese, we booked two nights accommodation at the Tokyo Inn in Kagoshima. The money then requested was well in excess of the prices quoted in our little guidebook to cheap Japanese accommodation, and beyond the $US50 a harrassed airlines clerk was willing to exchange for us.
Frustration (on the part of airline staff) and panic (us) resulted in louder attempts to communicate. This aroused the suspicions of a uniformed policeman, who demanded passports. He studied my papers for what seemed an eternity, repeatedly flicking pages back and forth. He then persisted in questioning me in Japanese and what I guessed he thought to be English with increasing annoyance at my failure to answer. I needed to placate him so I settled on anwering with a random 'yes' or 'no' whenever he appeared to pause for a reply. Whatever I agreed to or denied, he was satisfied and wandered off apparantly pleased with a successful interrogation.
After a few more hours of overcoming miscommunication through repeatedly saying the same things in languages that were incomprehensible to the other, we were led onto a bus to Kagoshima armed with maps on where to exchange money in that city and the whereabouts of our hotel.
The bus was a capitalist's delight. Seats collapsed into the passageway to cram in as many passangers as possible and adverstising slides flashed across a large screen that hid any view of the countryside. Poor Lib did not seem to notice any of this, nor did she respond to my comments on the societal implications. She said she had to concentrate on controlling her coughs and sniffles, a legacy of our side-trip to China, which she imagined was greeted with dismay by our super composed fellow travellers.
Though more like a cabin in a submarine, our hotel room was extremely comfortable. With spirits restored, we set out in search of food.
Obtaining dinner was relatively simple as most eating establishments had plastic displays of their main dishes in the window. Ordering merely involved pointing at what to me seemed very similar to the pretend vomit I had used as a child to play tricks on gullible adults. Despite Lib's previous protestations of weariness at having to carry her bags from the bus stop to our hotel, she surprised me with her interest in these displays. (Her bags were the same ones she had spent so much time in selecting back home because of their supposed ease of carriage.) With difficulty I convinced her to stop window shopping and settle on one eating establishment.
A fitting end to our first day in Japan was a short selection of night music transmitted to our room through hidden speakers. This was followed by announcements about all the things we should not do, such as smoke in bed, and things we should do, such as turn off the television and note the nearest fire escape. These announcements were both in Japanese and English, which we thought particularly considerate as we appeared to be the only non-Japanese in the hotel. This was followed by a little more night music to send us off to dreamland.
The airport is set deep in the countryside, equidistant from three major cities. Services are geared to the main users - Japanese travelling locally - hence no money changing facilities.
We located an Information and Tourist Officer. Through communication by gestures and a few mispronounced words of Japanese, we booked two nights accommodation at the Tokyo Inn in Kagoshima. The money then requested was well in excess of the prices quoted in our little guidebook to cheap Japanese accommodation, and beyond the $US50 a harrassed airlines clerk was willing to exchange for us.
Frustration (on the part of airline staff) and panic (us) resulted in louder attempts to communicate. This aroused the suspicions of a uniformed policeman, who demanded passports. He studied my papers for what seemed an eternity, repeatedly flicking pages back and forth. He then persisted in questioning me in Japanese and what I guessed he thought to be English with increasing annoyance at my failure to answer. I needed to placate him so I settled on anwering with a random 'yes' or 'no' whenever he appeared to pause for a reply. Whatever I agreed to or denied, he was satisfied and wandered off apparantly pleased with a successful interrogation.
After a few more hours of overcoming miscommunication through repeatedly saying the same things in languages that were incomprehensible to the other, we were led onto a bus to Kagoshima armed with maps on where to exchange money in that city and the whereabouts of our hotel.
The bus was a capitalist's delight. Seats collapsed into the passageway to cram in as many passangers as possible and adverstising slides flashed across a large screen that hid any view of the countryside. Poor Lib did not seem to notice any of this, nor did she respond to my comments on the societal implications. She said she had to concentrate on controlling her coughs and sniffles, a legacy of our side-trip to China, which she imagined was greeted with dismay by our super composed fellow travellers.
Though more like a cabin in a submarine, our hotel room was extremely comfortable. With spirits restored, we set out in search of food.
Obtaining dinner was relatively simple as most eating establishments had plastic displays of their main dishes in the window. Ordering merely involved pointing at what to me seemed very similar to the pretend vomit I had used as a child to play tricks on gullible adults. Despite Lib's previous protestations of weariness at having to carry her bags from the bus stop to our hotel, she surprised me with her interest in these displays. (Her bags were the same ones she had spent so much time in selecting back home because of their supposed ease of carriage.) With difficulty I convinced her to stop window shopping and settle on one eating establishment.
A fitting end to our first day in Japan was a short selection of night music transmitted to our room through hidden speakers. This was followed by announcements about all the things we should not do, such as smoke in bed, and things we should do, such as turn off the television and note the nearest fire escape. These announcements were both in Japanese and English, which we thought particularly considerate as we appeared to be the only non-Japanese in the hotel. This was followed by a little more night music to send us off to dreamland.
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