Koya-San
Photos in the Koya-San album. Koya-San (Mount Koya) is the centre of Shingon (Esoteric) Buddhism. It was founded by Kukai, now called Kobo Daishi, who became a Buddhist at 20 and traveled to China in 804 AD to study.
After he became the head disciple and his master died, Koba Daishi returned to Japan and threw a sanko (a three-pronged tool used in rituals) into the air to help decide where to settle. It vanished. Later, while he was wandering through Japan, he met a hunter with two dogs, one black and one white, who told him that he owned the mountain range now called Koya-San and that he’d seen something glittering in a certain pine tree there. Koba Daishi investigated and, sure enough, found his sanko in the branches of the three, which had three pine needles as if in imitation of tool. He started his settlement there; you can see the fourth generation of the tree growing in Danjo Garan, the sacred temple complex of Shingon Buddhism.
Getting to Koya-San isn’t difficult from Namba, although I had to change trains in Hashimoto (no change on the way back). The trip takes an hour and a half to two hours, depending on which train you catch. Once you arrive at the last station, you take a cable car to the top and then a bus into Koya. The World Heritage ticket is the best deal for overnighters, with a discounted round-trip ticket, a two-day bus pass, and a few discounts at the major sights and souvenir shops.
Koya-San is high enough to remain cool and, usually, cloudy year ‘round, so bring an extra layer or two, depending on the month. I left my duffel in a Namba station coin locker and tossed a change of clothes in my backpack; since it was in the mid- to upper-80s in Osaka, I only brought a hoodie and a scarf for warmth, which was a little lightweight, given the cold rainfall the next morning. Nightfall hit upper 40s, and the temple is open to the air in several places, but I found my traditional-style room and futon warm enough. As is the case with camping, of course, getting up for that midnight stroll down the hall to use the communal bathroom took some willpower. At last, the Japanese affection for heated toilet seats made sense.
The Buddhist temple where I stayed was Rengeo-in, which you can find referenced in a number of English-language travelogues about the area; it’s closest to the cable car station and many of the monks there speak English, so I suspect it’s the shukubo in which the Koya-San tourist agency prefers to place foreign visitors. Rengeo-in’s current head priest, who inherited his job from his father, spent some time studying Zen Buddhism as well as Shingon Buddhism, leading to the lovely raked Zen stone garden in the front of the temple. One of his two sons will inherit his position; at the moment, one works at a newspaper and the other at a ministry of trade.
Rengeo-in asks for the usual etiquette; leave your shoes (and umbrellas, if they’re wet) in compartments by the door and change into slippers for the temple’s wooden walkways and stairs, but shed your slippers for socks anywhere there’s a tatami mat floor covering. The monks posted a funny hand-drawn sign warning visitors not to roll their suitcases across the tatami mats — the expression on the sketched monk’s face was one of utter, mind-blowing horror as he watches the offending event! All of the slippers provided by Japanese hotels have been too large for me, and in this case they were particularly perilous on the temple’s steep stairs. After nearly killing myself several times when one slid off my foot, I took to pulling them off and carrying them upstairs each time I had to ascend.
The bedrooms surprised me by being larger than the room I’d had at our first ryokan (traditional Japanese hotel) in Tokyo. As you’d expect, they were covered in tatami mats and had sliding shoji-screen doors, a low table and legless chairs, hot water in a thermal pitcher, and the usual tea-and-sweet set, and a yukata and washcloth. As you might not expect, they also came equipped with TV, flashlight, and camp-fuel-style heater. The staff spreads out your futon for you while you’re at dinner. The futon mattresses (shikibuton) were, as had been the case in Tokyo, very thin and without the thicker futon pad I’d encountered at our ryokan in Takayama. The pillow was one of those hard, high, bean-filled makura I’ve encountered in both traditional and Western-style hotels here. Flat futons I’m fine with — they’re no worse than camping — but those awkward bean-filled pillows make my neck ache; I prefer to sleep without any pillow at all.
The temple offers three kinds of communal but sex-segregated bathrooms/washing areas — the lavoratories, a four-sink area for simple washing, and the Japanese-style bathroom, where between 6:30-10:30 p.m. one can use the communal shower area to clean off before entering the large, heated bathing pool. Perfect on a chilly mountain night! I got all warm and toasty and then headed back for that tea and sweet and some quiet reading time in my room. Of course, my morning ablutions at the sinks felt rather spartan by contrast, but since I was rushing through them early in the morning on my way to kneel for 40 minutes during a rather chilly Buddhist ceremony, “spartan” seemed only fitting.
The overnight temple stay includes participation in ajikan, Shingon meditation, for 40 minutes at 5:30 p.m. before dinner at 6:30 p.m., and participation in otsutome, a Buddhist service involving scripture, at 6 a.m. the next morning before breakfast at 7 a.m. The ceremonies took place in one of those small, dark, lavishly decorated rooms I’d been staring at for over two weeks as I visited temples; at last, a chance to sit inside and listen! Shingon Buddhism, unlike Zen Buddhism, is all about sights and sounds and smells, hearkening me back to early Christianity. Peasants listening to the Latin Mass would have understood about as much as I did listening to the Buddhist sutras; I just knelt enjoying the chanting and contemplating all the symbols before me. I was again grateful for years of martial arts training and relative flexibility; the other guests (four Americans, two Belgians) found it impossible to stay sitting cross-legged for the meditation and in seiza position (kneeling, back straight, legs together, toes crossed behind you) for the ceremony. I still need to work on my meditation skills, though; the mind didn’t quiet down much. Still, between the Zen meditation lesson and this one, I feel like I’ve been given a strong kick-start, if only I can continue on my own.
In the otsutome ceremony, at one point we each were asked to go forward, kneel, and formally offer a little powdered incense sprinkled over a burner, which was a bit intimidating. I reassured myself that (a) Buddhism tends to accept human error, and (b) the priests were used to Westerners not quite knowing what they’re doing, so they weren’t going to be judgmental. Again, I couldn’t help but compare to Christianity; in Roman Catholicism, non-Roman Catholics wouldn’t be invited to fumble through a mass, although I know some other Christian denominations are more open to visitors.
After each ceremony, the presiding priest turned to us while the others left, invited us to uncross our legs and relax, and gave us a short lesson in English about Shingon Buddhist beliefs and Koya-San’s history.
Dinner and breakfast were traditional shojin vegetarian cuisine, served by the young monks-in-training and, as usual, presented in a beautiful manner. It has no meat, fish, onions or garlic and features tempura, taro, miso soup, the usual pickled veggies, and two specialities — Koya’s freeze-dried tofu and goma tofu, which is cooked with sesame seeds and is considered a delicacy. I can’t say I have the palate to appreciate all the varieties of tofu; I’m just thankful if it’s solid enough to pick up easily with chopsticks!
We Westerners had a small, enclosed tatami-matted room to ourselves; we were left alone over dinner, although over breakfast the next morning the 90-year-old mother of the current high priest — wife of the now-deceased former high priest — came in to talk to us. She’d studied English literature back before WWII broke out and gave us the wry history of being (a) one of the only college-educated women in Koya-San and (b) being criticized for learning the “enemy tongue” during WWII, and then suddenly becoming an important asset after the war, when the U.S. military investigated Koya-San for (nonexistent) weapons caches. I know from having read other reviews of Rengeo-in that she’s given this speech many times before, but she came across as a smart, charming woman, and I can only hope that I look as young and am as actively engaged with the world as she is when I reach my nineties. She thanked living on Koya-San for her good health, though, so that might post a challenge.
Koya had a handful of other Western visitors, but the vast majority of tourists were Japanese, many of them wearing the white smocks and straw hats of pilgrims. After a little walking around with nothing but a map and brochure, I decided to get an English-language audio guide from the tourist office, a step I strongly recommend to others — it cost 500 yen (about $5) and you can keep it overnight, returning to one of three offices by noon the next day. One hundred and three audio entries describe the town of Koya; various spots in Kongobuji, the head temple of Shingon Buddhism; various buildings in Danjo Garan, the Shingon Buddhist temple complex; and a number of sites within Okunoin, the graveyard where Kobo Daishi sits in “eternal meditation.” It also briefly describes other sites, like the Tokugawa Masolea, the great gate of Daimon, and the women’s lodge, Nyonindo. Many of the entries provide back history and explanations of rituals, which I found useful, since I only have a passing knowledge of Buddhist philosphy in general and very little knowledge of Buddhist ritual activities in particular.
The whole Koya-San area is gorgeous, especially in the rain — green and lush and cool — but of course, taphophile that I am, I fell in love with Okunoin, which I rank with Venice’s San Michele island as one of the Most Beautiful Graveyards in the World. The huge Otani masoleum in Kyoto was impressive, but it was new and treeless, a sort of Forest Lawn of masolea; Okunoin, in the other hand, sits in a vast, dark forest and contains a literally uncountable number of tombs that are many hundreds of years old. (Counts range from 200,000 to 500,000, but nobody knows for sure). It’s the largest graveyard and holiest spot in Japan. I’m sure I took at least 100 photos, until even I was starting to feel overwhelmed and decided that there was no way I could possibly appreciate that many photos of grave markers….
Trying to do Koya-San in one day would be pushing it; however, it’s a small town, so an overnight stay would be enough for most — arrive around noon on one day and leave around noon on the other. The only major attraction I didn’t bother with was the Reihokan, a museum of Buddhist paintings and works; I wasn’t interested enough to pay the admission fee. I did pay the (discounted) admission to the Kongobuji Temple to see the colorful paintings on the sliding doors and the fabulous Banryutei rock garden, which is the largest in Japan; and I paid the small and on-faith fee to enter the Konpondaito Pagoda in the Garan complex to see the big Dainichi Nyorai (“Universal/Cosmic Buddha”) statue and his four protector Buddhas, as well as the mandala formed by the paintings on the 16 thick columns inside.
Souvenir shoppers will find relatively little to purchase — lots of Buddhist paraphernalia, of course, and a number of sweets and foodstuffs (freeze-dried tofu, anyone?), but little else in the way of Japanese crafts or art. In addition, food choices outside the temples aren’t too interesting. I ended up eating a bland curry for lunch, mostly because I craved something warm and filling after walking around a cemetery in the cold rain all morning! Back in Namba I had bland Chinese for dinner, after failing to find a Mos Burger. (Am I fated to leave Japan without crossing “Mos Burger” off my List?!) I’ve noticed that although Japanese food can be flavorsome, it is never spicy, setting aside an occasional sinus-clearing zap of wasabi. The lack of chili peppers would drive me crazy if I lived here; I love spicy Indian, Chinese, Mexican and Cajun food!
At any rate, visiting Koya-San was a very enjoyable way to wrap up my trip to Japan. Today, Wednesday, is my last full day here; tomorrow I start the journey back to the States.
drupagliassotti @ June 8, 2010