Kimono experience

Costume from the Kabuki dance, Wisteria Maiden

A friend asked me to help out at a kimono experience that was expected to attract a lot of foreigners.  There were several events in Nihonbashi, the center of Tokyo, that coincided with the IMF meeting in Tokyo.  The event I went to had two parts: an exhibition of Kabuki costumes and a kimono-wearing experience.  

The costume exhibition was combined with two lectures (in Japanese) about costumes.  There was no attempt to provide English translations, but for the exhibit, there were English handouts of the character and play associated with each costume, as well as a bit about the materials and style of the costume.  An expert from a major Kabuki production company came to give a lecture (which required a paid ticket) which I did not attend.  However, after the formal part of the lecture, the expert went to the exhibition room and made some remarks about the costumes.  Perhaps the most impressive comment was that one of the costumes would cost 'nan-zen man' in yen to recreate.  'Nan-zen man' translates to 'hundreds of thousands of dollars!'  This costume had huge hand-embroidered decorations on top of a heavy brocade robe.  Part of the problem is that there are not many artisans who still know these techniques.  This robe, plus the wig and sash to complete the costume, could weigh nearly 100 pounds.  There were three heavily embroidered robes that were worn by main characters.  There were also three kimonos worn by the 'maids' that had dramatic dyed patterns of phoenix feathers in bright, neon-like colors.  But the experts said these were 'plain' in comparison to the embroidered kimonos.

Kimonos and sashes

The kimono experience was run by Sasajima Sensei, a teacher of kimono wearing.  (Maybe you didn't know there were teachers of kimono wearing.)  For no charge, visitors could select a kimono and sash and other accessories.  Then, a flock of able assistants would flutter around, helping in the process of layering of robes, tying of various cords and sashes, and adjusting every fold to perfection.  For women, there were the trailing sleeves usually worn by younger women as the flashiest fashion, as well as the shorter-sleeve version worn by others.  These were in beautiful brocades, hand-dyed, some were hand painted, some woven with gold thread, with patterns ranging from flowers and seasonal themes to abstract patterns.  For men, the only choice was the black kimono worn with hakama trousers for a formal occasion like a wedding.  I am pretty sure these were all genuine silk, so the prices for these outfits would certainly be in the 1000s of dollars, many of them more than 10,000.  Once all the fussing was over, the visitors could stroll around the lobby and have photos taken in front of a gold screen and red umbrella.  One visitor wore her kimono to an IMF meeting, and some were able to enjoy rickshaw rides (another part of the series of events) showing off their finery.

There were no cross-dressing requests, but some of the physical types presented a bit of a challenge.  A tall black woman--a body type similar to, say, Michele Obama--asked if pregnant women could do this (the obi sash is often pulled very tight for the most fashionable look).  Sasajima Sensei took on the challenge, with assurances that she could adjust everything to avoid obstetrical problems.  The visitor chose a light aquatic sky blue that presented a beautiful contrast with her ebony color.  Another challenge was a young girl who was about six or eight years old.  An adult kimono was tailored by a quick basting--no cutting-- that turned out very well.  

The event was available for three days.  The first day, there were only a few takers.  Then, word began to spread, and the numbers picked up.  On Saturday, the last day, the kimono ladies were rushing practically all day.  There were only three men who tried it, but probably 30 or 40 women.  It was a great opportunity to enjoy the high-quality artisanal experience that would normally require a considerable charge (for example, renting a kimono for a wedding or something). 

(Yamada-san admires a Kabuki costume while displaying her own fancy obi bow)

Eating as a spiritual practice

Buddhist breakfast

'Itadakimasu'--the standard thing to say before eating in Japan.  What a phrase, what complex layers of meaning.  Itadaku is a humble verb meaning 'partake.'  Japanese has ways of speaking that reflect the humility of the speaker.  It seems remarkably consonant with one of the Six Verses for Training the Mind from the Tibetan Buddhist tradition: 'In any group, I will consider myself to be the lowest in rank.'  A fairly tough concept for most Americans (including me) to get their heads around.  The verb form itadakimasu is formal, suggesting respect for the food and those who prepared it.  So itadakimasu 'I humbly partake, with respect' is kind of like grace, but no god is involved--makes things so easy!  Probably 100% of school kids in Japan learn to say this at lunch.  No worries about religion in the lunchroom, who goes to what temple or church, or who believes or doesn't.  Just humility and respect.  

I went to a ceremony at the temple Sensoji this morning, starting at 7:00 AM, that involved about 30 minutes of chanting (the sutra of Avalokitesvara, = chapter 25 of the Lotus Sutra) in the main hall of the temple.  Then we moved to the Shoin, a traditional chamber in the garden of the former monastery Denboin.  There we did 'sai jiki,' which is a Buddhist way of eating.  The spiritual side is the point, much more than the nutritional side.  The food was about as simple as can be, okayu, which is rice cooked with extra water so that it is almost souplike.  Nothing is added, so the taste is just bland white rice.  By the way, this is a traditional breakfast in many parts of Asia, usually available at a hotel breakfast, for example.  Strongly salted side dishes are eaten with the gruel. Today's meal was typical--yellow takuan pickled radish, kelp boiled in sweet soy sauce, and gobo (a root vegetable) also cooked in a very salty way. But first, there was a ceremony, which I was struggling to read in Japanese.  First there was the invocation of the law, the Buddha and the sangha.  Then, we formed the meditation hand gesture to read affirmations of our respect for the food and  our hope for all sentient beings who hunger, both in the physical sense as well as the spiritual, both in this world and in worlds beyond this one.  A small plate was passed around, and each person added one bite of rice to the plate, as a symbolic offering.  This took five or ten minutes, and then finally we said 'Itadakimasu!'  Everyone ate silently, and finished rather quickly--for me, soupy rice takes a while to eat with chopsticks.  Then, tea kettles were passed around, and everyone filled the empty rice bowl with tea(or was it hot water?).  With one's last slice of radish, the inside of the bowl was wiped clean, and the tea was drunk, leaving the dishes clean.  Many monastics eat all their meals this way.  Next, there was a short sermon.  Afterwards, we took a spin around the garden.  

It is easy to apply an esoteric (mikkyo) Buddhist interpretation to this--actions of body, speech and mind are called mysteries, I think because of the effects they have.  This is karma.  Often, the link between cause and effect can be less than obvious--I don't suppose any homeless people actually had their hunger assuaged by our efforts.  But the idea is that the intention is what counts.  So we chanted and meditated for our minds.  We spoke our prayers and took action in the form of offering food and also eating in a humble and respectful way.  

The setting was probably a bit too luxurious.  The nineteenth-century building was lavishly detailed, decorated with beautiful hanging scrolls, and the entire side of the building facing the garden was completely open.  The group is a kind of club at the temple, and I was able to participate through an introduction by a friend.  

Here is the famous view of the Shoin with the pagoda of Sensoji in the background:

Thanks for reading!  (I think you can see a higher resolution if you click on the photo)

Sounds of Goma

No videos allowed inside the hall, of course, so at Takahata Fudo, I took a short video just outside the entrance--live sound.

The sound is also broadcast around the temple grounds, so I took a video of the pagoda with the sound of the ceremony through loudspeakers.

Goma--Buddhist fire ceremony

Goma ceremony invokes power of Fudo Myo-o

Smells and bells

I have been interested in vajrayana (mikkyo, esoteric Buddhism) for a while.  Tibetan Buddhism is in this category.  The diaspora caused by conditions in Tibet has helped Tibetan Buddhism to spread around the world--it is now one of the better-known Buddhist traditions, I would say.  

In Japan, this tradition is represented by Shingon Buddhism.  Not quite the same as Tibetan, but some similarities.  A Japanese monk named Kukai (posthumously named Kobo Daishi, the Great Propagator of the Law) found an esoteric sutra in his independent studies.  Wanting to learn more about it, he managed to be appointed to a government legation to China, where he met a master of esoteric Buddhism.  He quickly learned the entire canon from his Chinese master, Huigo, and returned to Japan.  Shingon was actively supported by the government (believing that some 'magic' might help the country resist invasions and disasters.  He was granted the mountain now known as Koyasan to establish a monastery--the mountain is still a center of Shingon Buddhism today.

The Goma fire ceremony is one esoteric ceremony that is relatively easy to see.  It is dedicated to Fudo Myo-o, whose name means Unmoving Brilliant King.  Any temple that has an image of Fudo probably has or had a connection to mikkyo at one time--many of the major sects of Japanese Buddhism have been influenced by Shingon.   I have been trying to pay a bit more attention to Fudo these days, so I went to observe a couple of fire ceremonies.

This is a ritual implement for vajrayana ceremonies, although this is a very large one, probably not intended for actual use.  Visitors can touch this one for good luck.

The rather unassuming Hall of Fudo Myo-o at the temple known as Takahata Fudoson

One famous temple for this is Takahata Fudoson (-son means object of worship, usually a statue or painting).  The official name is Takahatasan (the 'mountain name' of the temple, formed with the name of the place plus 'san' meaning mountain) Kongoji ( -ji means temple, Kongo is a central idiom of mikkyo that has connotations of adamantine, unbreakable power).  The impression of power is evident in images of Fudo as well as in the ceremony.  The temple was founded more than 1000 years ago.  The Fudo-do or Hall of Fudo is several hundred years old.  They conduct the Goma ceremony there several times every day.  The Fudo-do is not large, but its ceiling and interior walls are dark with smoke.  Clearly the only lighting in the original design was candles; now there are a couple of floodlights illuminating the central space, but their brightness cannot completely overcome the gloom.  

A railing separates the inner sanctum, with a typical square altar and large image of Fudo Myo-o and his attendants.  A small bell signals the entry of the priests, with the officiant sitting directly in front of the altar.  The officiant carries out several ritual duties including flinging very small drops of water about with a wand.  The priests begin to chant, and soon the officiant lights the fire, made of stacked pieces of wood, anointed with various oils and spices.  As the flames mount, the voices become stronger and the large bass drum is sounded.  This large sound invokes the invincible power of Fudo.  The priests chant some sutras and then for an extended period, the mantra of Fudo.  Several lay people join in chanting the mantra.  Then, as the chanting and drumming continue, a priest invites the lay people to approach the altar of Fudo, which is done in an orderly single file.  The ceremony continues, with various tablets being exposed to the purifying flames, sometimes getting a bit singed.  As the lay people return to their places in the outer area, the fire is beginning to die down.  After the last bits of the fire are seen to, the officiant bows to the group of lay people and the line of priests withdraws, again to the sound of a small bell.

Let's get wet!

Communal bathing in Japan

For most people in Japan, a quick shower is often just not good enough.  Gotta have a long, hot soak in a deep tub up to the neck.  This is pretty much the rule in Japan, where people have been enthusiastic bathers for many centuries.  In the early days, only the elite could actually afford bathing facilities, so public baths became well established.  Early on, the system was: wash thoroughly outside the tub, then enter the communal tub for soaking, warming and relaxing. 

I like getting clean as much as anyone else, but the idea of soaking with strangers doesn't appeal to most Americans.  When I first came to Japan, so many years ago, I rented a tiny room with no bath, so I had to make a daily trip to the local sento--public bath.  The first night I arrived, I was so tired, I just went right to bed.  The next day, I was ready to get clean, but going to the sento for the first time was pretty daunting.  A French guy living across the hall offered to go and show me the ropes.  

The first task is to choose the right entrance, for men or women.  Usually, these are notated with kanji--and I was completely at a loss.  However, Daniel showed me which one was the men's.  Before entering, you remove your shoes and put them in a shoe locker.  The building was a traditional one, with a high coffered ceiling.  This space was divided by a wall that was well over head height, although it did not go all the way to the ceiling.  There was an elevated desk, kind of like a pulpit, near the doorways, where one person could keep an eye on both the women's and men's areas.  This is also where you pay the entrance fee.  I was surprised to find a woman on duty there.  In the locker area, there was a block of lockers about chest height, so I was able to hide behind them while I took off my clothes.  Large sliding glass doors led into the bath area.  

As baths go, it was very nice.  The soaking tub was very large, the width of the room, with a contoured front.  Sentos are known for large murals on the back wall, above the soaking tub--this one had a view of Mt. Fuji, a very common subject for bath houses.  And, this establishment had large rocks/boulders worked into the tub, so you could lean against a warm rock to relax.  

But first, get clean.  There were rows of shower heads, but at waist height, intended to be used while sitting.  There were tiny stools and buckets.  Soap and shampoo were the bather's responsibility, although such supplies, as well as razors, pumice stones, washcloths and towels were on sale.  The shower rows also had mirrors, so you could shave sitting down under the shower.  So, I got all clean and headed for the tub.  

There is one bathing custom Daniel didn't tell me about.  Most Japanese people take a small towel, about the size of a US dish towel, into the bathing area.  It is used for washing, and then strategically deployed to the most crucial area(s) for modesty when moving around.  I didn't have such a towel with me, but I figured it was like the locker room in high school.  Only wusses worried about such things!  Okay, ready for the hot bath!

But it was really, really hot!  I noticed there was a thermometer on the wall that said 42 degrees C.  (Fahrenheiters, do the calculation!)  Anyway, hot enough to induce a strong blush to the skin.  So, I was sitting on the thick edge of the tub, legs in the hot water, facing the thermometer and looking up at the mural of Mt. Fuji.  I noticed a sliding door next to the thermometer, and I noticed it was sliding open.  There was the woman from the entrance desk!!  She pretended to be checking the temperature, but she took a certain amount of time directing her gaze to the thermometer, giving her plenty of time to check me out!  Well, a lot of Japanese are curious about such things, it's true.  I probably did not live up to her stereotype of westerners...sigh.  But I had my first experience of relaxed Japanese attitudes toward nudity--sometimes there is some mixing of the sexes, in varying degrees.  More about that later!

The photo shows a traditional style bath house--you may be able to see the craftsmanship in the construction.  This is called Akebono no Yu in the Asakusa area.  A cold drink from the machine is very refreshing after a hot dip.  This place is also notable for the extensive planting--is it wistaria?

Also, check here for photos of a typical bath house interior, complete with Mt Fuji on the back wall--in tile instead of paint.  You can also see the sit-down shower heads, each with its own mirror.  

http://onsensoaker.blogspot.jp/2011/06/jakotsuyu-asakusa-downtown-tokyo.html

This blog has good info on hot springs and sentos, even some about overseas destinations!  

Let's get wet! part 2

Bathing as leisure

Japanese onsen (hot springs) are becoming well known outside of Japan.  There are lots of hot springs, because the Japanese archipelago is situated in an area of high volcanic activity.  It is said that you can find a source of hot spring water just about anywhere, if you drill deep enough.  In the old days, it is said that people would follow wounded animals, who were able to find natural hot springs which could help heal their injuries.  Later, more hot spring resorts were opened up as drilling technology developed, and resorts began to attract leisure travellers.  

My first hot spring experience was deep in the woods.  I had not been in Japan too long, but one of my new friends suggested going on a trip.  He was not too specific about where we were going.  I had an international driver's license (these are only good for one year, so I had not been in Japan very long at that point), so my friend said, 'We can go to my brother's place in Tochigi prefecture, and borrow his car to go on a trip!'  In the US, a driver's license is considered a birthright, almost, but in Japan, they are considerably more difficult to get (usually they require maybe 30 hours (?) of class and a big fee for the test as well, and almost no one passes the first time).  So I agreed to this plan.  The car was fairly heavy, with no power steering, stick shift, and I was not used to driving on the left, so it was a bit difficult.  Then, we headed into the mountains and started driving upriver in a narrow valley.  The road was curvy and narrow.  Meeting a car coming in the opposite directions usually required some maneuvering.  No guard rails, and I think I remember rolling down the window to look our and make sure I wouldn't drop a wheel over the edge.  Anyway, some hours passed in this way, with no help on the driving (other than navigating).  At a clearing in the woods, there was a parking lot.  My friend said 'We have to park here and walk about two hours in the woods.'  I still didn't really know where we were headed, but there was no turning back.  The walk was very peaceful, in a forest dominated by maple trees that were reaching the peak of autumnal redness.  Finally, we arrived at a very simple wooden inn in the woods.  The rooms were Japanese style, with tatami mats, and they were fairly dark because the electricity generators would not be turned on until sunset.  Also, no TV, no telephone.  The only entertainment was a 'go' board in the room.  But behind the building, in the maple forest, was a hot bath with steam curling among the branches.  After my tiring drive and walk, this seemed like heaven.  That night, it began to snow, so we enjoyed the hot bath in a snowfall.  The next day, the forest had changed from red to white.  This inn was called Kaniyu, part of the Oku-Kinugawa resort area.  I later found out that in some cases, they will offer guests a lift to the parking area--there is a road for bringing in supplies, etc., but no parking lot.  The meals were very simple, and for an extra fee, fresh tempura made with local mushrooms was available.  Also, there was no heat, but a kerosene space heater could be rented.   The outdoor bath was gender-mixed, but there were no other guests in the place that day.  There were also gender-segregated baths inside.  

Since that time, the area has been more completely developed.  The Kaniyu inn is now a four-story concrete building, with more extensive outdoor soaking facilities.  I haven't been there for many years, but apparently many guests still make the long walk through the woods as part of the experience.  

I was reminded of this experience when I found this haiku by Masaoka Shiki:　  

山の湯や裸の上に天の川　'At a hot spring in the mountains, above the naked bathers, the Milky Way' (translation by me!) 

 I remember the steam rising into the night sky, and how it would seem to blend right into the Milky Way (although it was not clear enough to see it that night).  I like the shift of scale from the hot bath under your chin, up to the glowing galactic expanse. 

The photo at the top shows a public hot spring (no inn) in Nagano prefecture.

Revisiting high school Beethoven

Ah! The mistakes of youth!

I have recently gone back to work on a Beethoven piano sonata that I first studied in high school.  It is no. 19, op. 49 no. 1 in g minor.  I dug out the old score that I used at that time, published by G. Schirmer, edited by Hans von Bülow and Sigmund Lebert.  The price marked is sixty cents.  (Another factoid related to those ancient days: my book of a selection of ten Haydn piano sonatas does not have any catalogue numbers.  Apparently the Hoboken catalogue finally included numbers for the piano sonatas in 1971--although the question remains: why would a catalogue of Haydn's music be based in New Jersey?)

Anyway, this is one of the 'easy sonatas' (leichte sonaten), so it was quite appropriate for my technique level at that time.  However, I didn't have the kind of technique concept for playing piano music of this period.  That was not to come for several decades. But as an adult piano student, I was able to repair some of those deficiencies in my early studies.  I finally studied all of the the two-art and three-part Inventions of Bach, and started plowing into the Well-Tempered Clavier, and some sonatas by Mozart and Haydn.  My piano teachers in Japan emphasized the ways to differentiate among baroque, classical and romantic playing techniques and styles.  Applying these to the Beethoven sonata made it much more interesting and satisfying.  Here is a clue--I never paid much attention to slurs, phrasing indications and the like.  These make a big difference!  I suppose that just reading the notes was a big enough task--not enough RAM space to deal with all the extraneous markings!  When it comes to baroque keyboard music, there are lots of ways to play it on the piano--Glenn Gould certainly pushed the envelope on that.  But when it comes to the classical repertoire, things are a lot more strict.  I am glad I am finally 'getting it!'

In googling, I discovered a sound file of a lecture on this piece by Andras Schiff.  It is a good reference, especially for those looking for more Beethoven basics.

The picture shows a Bluthner piano I found in the old Sogakudo concert hall at the Tokyo University of Fine Arts and Music.  I had never heard of this brand, but it was a favorite of Rachmaninov and lots of other famous musicians. Originated in Leipzig, famous for aliquot strings and cylindrical sound board. 

Flying to the Crescent City

From Music City to the Big Easy

I was surprised by how easily all the Japanese people in our group breezed through airport security. Also, we got very good service on Southwest--when they saw we were all checking in together, they opened another station just for us. We were met in Nawlins by a driver from Tulane University, who was very friendly and ended up lending me his wife's cell phone. Along the way, he pointed out rings on the pillars supporting an overhead highway--water marks left by hurricane Katrina. Other than that, there was really no sign of that great disaster.

We couldn't find any reasonably priced places where we could all stay--thus a cell phone was quite handy, since we had three different locations. The Japanese consul was very helpful in that regard--I stayed in a condo owned by a Japanese expat. It was a great location, on St. Charles, just across the street from the Garden District. I enjoyed riding the St. Charles streetcar line downtown.

As soon as we got to town, we heard that the New Orleans Museum of Art had arranged a TV gig as a promotion for the Japan Festival at the museum. We were supposed to play on an early-morning show, with our bit starting at 5:30 AM!! Well, I was so worried about not waking up that I didn't get much sleep. However, I put on my kimono and waited in front of my building for the communications director of the museum to pick me up at 4:45--she arrived in a Miata convertible. First time I ever rode in a convertible wearing my kimono. The gig went surprisingly well--I played the shamisen, managing to get it tuned up in very short order. The TV show--Good Morning New Orleans--put our segment on line, but I have since lost track of it.

Our first live gig was at Tulane University, in the Rogers Memorial Chapel, not a very big space, but it turned out to be a good size for the crowd, and the space is more square than rectangular, so it had a nice intimate feeling. The high humidity of NOLA was great for my tsuzumi, and the crowd was pleased.

Part of our group was staying on the other side of the French Quarter, so we made the famous Cafe du Monde our meeting place--even if you get lost, everyone knows how to get there. I went by taxi the first time, but then I took the streetcar the next time, which involved a bit of walking to get to Jackson Square. But the atmosphere was great. We had a nice dinner of local food somewhere in the FQ. But I never had a chance to actually order one of the Cafe du Monde's famous beignets. The day we returned to Japan, somebody had brought a leftover one to the airport, so I got to taste one, although not exactly at the peak of freshness.

Our other gig was the Japan Festival at the museum. I took a taxi over there, and was greeted by a taiko group playing in front of the classically-styled museum building (it is in the middle of a nice big park). We were shown to the board of directors room to use as our dressing room. Nice view of the park, and nice works of art for our exclusive enjoyment. The Festival had lots of things to do--a bonsai corner, tea ceremony corner, flower arranging, origami. I talked to some guys from the NO Zen temple--perfect name!

They were conducting meditation sessions in a room at the museum. The temple was related to the lineage of Harada and I told them I had seen the famous statue of Sawaki Kodo (same lineage) at the temple Sengakuji in Tokyo. Anyway, the museum gig was in a small auditorium, with no backstage space--but it was okay, since we were using the directors' room! This was one of our best and also best-received performances. Just getting it down pat as we came to the end of the tour.

I really enjoyed the atmosphere of NOLA--when we finished our dinner in the French Quarter, we stepped outside to find an impromptu music group. I saw similar groups throughout the area, all without any electricity! YAY! We also went to a really touristy restaurant and walked around Bourbon Street a bit--I was concerned about the group of five Japanese women, one in kimono, in a boisterous crowd of people carrying drinks around. But it was okay. We made our way to Preservation Hall. There was not too much time left in the set, but we went in anyway, and it was great.

The day before we left was a free day. Part of our group decided to do a boat cruise with lunch. I heard about an ethnic festival in Gretna, across the river, accessible by a free ferry. That sounded worth it, and it turned out the people on the lunch cruise were kinda disappointed by the banal scenery. The free ferry was nice, but right after getting off the boat, you had to pay $15 to enter the festival. Well, it was still cheaper than the lunch cruise. They had oysters--but I am not a fan. I went for a brat on a stick with a microbrew, followed by the famous fried green tomatoes and a crawdad fritter. There was a static display of the last locomotive manufactured in Louisiana, right behind the Gretna city hall. There was also a big sign for a bail bondsman, so I figure the city hall must also be the jail and courthouse.

The next day, our flight back to Japan turned out to be the flight from hell! Thank you Continental Airlines--you failed on both trans-Pacific flights! The return flight was even more egregious--flew for two hours, decided to turn back because of non-functional toilets. Fuel tanks had to be dumped in order to land. The next plane took a couple more hours of waiting, and it was still not completely ready. They gave us very 'generous' compensation--a ticket for a free adult beverage OR 10% off on a duty free purchase of more than $75. Guess what--no alcohol on the plane! Somehow I was not in the mood for a duty free purchase that day. Well, at least we made it back, maybe about six hours late.

The restaurant pic shows my preference for candid shots instead of the 'Hai! Poozu!' type favored by the Japanese. So, my apologies to Wada-san for catching her in the middle of taking a bite!

Some people think the haloed figure in front of Preservation Hall is Amida--but I know that is definitely not true!

US Performance Tour Nashville pt 2

We stayed at the Skerrit-Bennet Center in Nashville. It was formerly a university, in fact the first in the country to admit African-American women as students. I am not sure whether the university moved or closed, but anyway, the campus is now a good place for travelers on a budget. The entire campus is done in a fairly economical version of neo-gothic. The guest rooms are the dormitory rooms--a bit dingy, and most of them share a bath with one other room, causing lots of problems when the opposite party forgets to unlock the bathroom door. But certainly cheap, and free wi-fi in the central (used to be the library) building. It is adjacent to Vanderbilt U., and there are some restaurants (including the sushi place) and a CVS drug store that was also very convenient. There is also an old wooden building that was the first Methodist meeting house west of the Appalachians, the Strother Meeting House. The building has been moved around and used for various non-churchly purposes; now it is retired from active duty, and preserved as part of the campus.

In addition to Celebrate Nashville, we also performed at a few colleges/universities: Columbia College, Western Kentucky and Belmont. We got great support from Mrs. Grimes, a Japanese-born long-time resident of the area. She did a drop-in dance performance at Columbia, where she has been a Japanese language teacher. We had to use big vans to carry the ten of us to Columbia and Western Kentucky. However, Belmont is in town, not far from Skerrit-Bennet, so the vice-consul (I think that is what she is, but not sure) made two trips using her own car to take us over there. The last pic shows her with her Japanese-speaking staff member, Jennifer, and Ms. Grimes, as well as the dancers and musicians.

US Performance Tour

My drum teacher asked me to join in a tour to perform in two US cities, Nashville (Tenn.) and New Orleans (La.). Our first gig was the 'Celebrate Nashville' festival on an outdoor stage at Centennial Park, near the famous Parthenon. However, getting there proved to be quite a challenge. Continental Airlines took four hours to fix a toilet problem before the plane could leave Tokyo. We arrived late in Houston, and could not get on any connecting flights to Nashville, so we had to spend the night in Houston. Fortunately, we found one agent who was able to get us on a flight early enough to make our gig. Still, it was touch-and-go. It was our roughest performance, but the atmosphere was far from formal, so it didn't matter too much. The stage had a rather exuberant hand-painted backdrop. The other acts on the program included a lot of zydeco, bluegrass and the like. After our performance, lots of photographers showed up to photograph our fantastic dancers in the park's lush greenery.

For many Japanese, American food is a bit of a problem--too rich, too greasy, too much. Fortunately, my teacher and I were introduced to a great, inexpensive sushi place in Nashville. Later, we were able to tour around a bit to see some of the music scene. We went to a fairly small and simple place called the Station Inn--it was cozy and much more my style compared to some more famous places that seemed over the top to me.

New Year Celebration I

(I have posted three entries in reverse order, hoping it will be easy to read them starting with no. I. If you see no. III first, please read them in reverse order.)

I had some very satisfying experiences during this holiday season. On New Year's eve, I went to the temple Enyuji for the 108 bell strikes. It is pretty common for temples to ring their bells 108 times on the last night of the year (it is called Joya no Kane in Japanese), but they have various ways of carrying it out. At Enyuji, they hand out 108 tickets to the first 108 individuals or groups (up to four people with one ticket). I put on my kimono (Oshima tsumugi) and hakama and headed over to the temple a bit before 10:00 PM, since the tickets would be handed out starting at 10:30. I splurged on a taxi to get there (walking would be nearly 30 minutes) and when I got there, the line was already pretty long. Of course, there was no way to tell how many groups--there were lots of families there, with kids running around and so on. But after waiting 20 minutes or so the line started moving quickly and I got my ticket.

It was fairly chilly--in the low 40s or high 30s F. So, I put lots of heat packs (those sand-filled things that heat up through slow oxidation) on my legs and back. I wore very thick underwear--top and bottom--giving a very filled-out look to my kimono. I also wore a thick woolen coat, called 'manto' a word borrowed from French. Because it doesn't have sleeves, it works well with a kimono. In place of sleeves, there is a kind of cape-thing over the shoulders. It buttons up snugly to the neck, and the material is like melton, so it is pretty warm. But it is easy to get cold just standing around. The bell ringing was supposed to start at 11:30 so I had some more time to kill. I just walked around the temple grounds and took lots of pictures. The temple buildings were still closed, and they are not heated anyway. Finally, the priest, Oka-san, came out and did the first ring. He remained standing in the bell tower the whole time, and he was just wearing his normal priest outfit with no overcoat of any kind. Maybe he was using heat packs too. There were at least three assistants for the bell ringing--probably lay volunteers. One guy took the ticket, and he was also available to take a picture for those who brought cameras. Another guy did miscellaneous work like checking the bell after each ring. Another assistant was holding the back of the log-like ringer, adding power and control for those that needed it. I took a few pix of people ringing, and then I got in line. When it was my turn, one of the assistants held my coat and another one took my picture. The standard way to ring the bell is to pull the ringer back once lightly, then back a bit more strongly on the second swing. On the third swing, pull back hard and BONNGGG! Every person then received a gift from the temple. This year and last year, the gift was a set of large, colorful chopsticks for cooking or serving. I have gotten chopsticks from other temples at New Year's, so maybe there is some tradition about this.

After my ring, I heard the 12:00 bells pealing from a nearby Catholic church. They just did one riff right at midnight. The temple bell gonged about once every minute or two, so it took probably an hour and a half or two hours. I didn't stick around long after I finished, but I decided to walk home. I went past the Catholic (Salesian, actually) church, which was having midnight mass that night. Also, that church is famous as the location of the wedding of Seiko Matsuda, a very famous pop singer.

About halfway home, I passed through Himonya Park, which has a big pond in the middle. I remembered that there is a shrine of the goddess Benzaiten (often shortened to Benten) on an island in the middle of the pond. Her shrines are often on islands (or hills). She is the goddess of performing arts--she is often portrayed playing the biwa. I crossed the arched bridge to the tiny island, then tossed a coin in the box, rattled the shaker/bell, clapped and bowed. Then, someone gave me an ofuda, a small sacred board. It had the name of the shrine, nothing that it was a branch of the famous Itsukushima shrine in Hiroshima. Someone had prepared cups of amazake, a sweet hot drink made from sake lees. A few people were standing around a small fire in a can. As I sipped my warming drink, I could still hear the bell of Enyuji.

New Year Celebration II

On January 1, I was invited to a small party starting at 3:00. Most people in Japan don't mind starting their drinking early in the day, if it is a special occasion. I went to the Asakusa area early, so see if I could also pray at the famous temple of Kannon, Sensoji. Last year, I waited in line about two hours, shuffling slowly down the wide path to the temple. I didn't have that much time, so I tried an alternative. First of all, it was very hard to get around, because it was so crowded. The main streets were blocked to cars--very nice. However, for the main path to the temple, the police blocked off the cross streets and just allowed people to cross at intervals, like a traffic signal. This was to prevent people from jumping the line. But it resulted in some delays and crowding. I couldn't believe that in the midst of all these people, most of whom were visiting the temple, some Christian group had set up big loudspeakers with audio of stuff from the Bible and like that. I saw the same group in front of Shibuya station earlier. I thought it was fine there, especially around Christmas, maybe they could attract some interest. But I felt a bit annoyed that they were adding a dissonant note to the scene at a large and famous Buddhist temple. Anyway. Whatever.

My tactic was to skirt around the far side of the temple, aiming for an area to the left of the main hall. This area was recently rebuilt, with some new temples, and some very old ones restored. The Yogodo has maybe eight Buddhas, with each one corresponding to one (or two) of the years of the Chinese zodiac. I was born in the year of the tiger, so my Buddha is Bodhisattva Koukuuzou. On my way to the Yogodo, I went through a street of down-home pubs, most with open fronts, making it fun to look inside. Many people were already celebrating with sake. Some shops had a barrel of sake right on the street, selling individual cups to passersby. I resisted. I also passed through some retro shopping streets, and two old-fashioned theaters where a kind of traditional vaudeville is performed. I could hear the amplified music playing inside the famous Mokubakan theater. There is also a small retro amusement park in the area, which added screams of roller coaster riders to the sonic environment. When I got to the Yogodo, I was able to walk right in and offer a candle to Koukuuzou. Then, I retraced my steps to get to my friend's place. He is not a sake drinker, so we had beer, wine and awamori. His wife had home-made traditional New Year food, including mochi with soy sauce and nori. We spent nearly seven hours eating and drinking, also watching some videos. I got home a bit before midnight.

New Year Celebration III

On January 3, I went to the Koyasan Tokyo Betsuin, the Tokyo branch temple of Koyasan Shingon esoteric Buddhism. They have had ceremonies at 10:00 AM and 2:00 PM for the past three days. So I dropped into the 2:00 ceremony today, to see the goma ceremony, when a fire is built in a special altar to invoke the power of Fudo Myo O, the unmoveable god of light, also known as Acala. The temple has a hard floor with chairs and a tatami area closer to the altar. As I was sitting in a chair waiting, a priest came out and invited everyone to move up to the tatami area. I thought maybe I could see better from there, so I moved.

Before the start of the ceremony, a very loud bell was rung as a signal. Then, a procession of four priest moved into the temple, with the first priest ringing a hand-held bell. Three of the priests were wearing the usual Shingon-style kesa, but one was wearing a brown robe that looked similar to robes that southeast Asian monks wear. The chief priest sat at a square altar right in front of the statue of Kukai Kobo Daishi. There was another square altar just behind that. The extra altar had a kind of canopy over it, and this is where the fire was built. I don't know if the canopy was a ritual necessity or maybe a way to control the smoke. Another priest hit a large drum and the fourth priest rang the large bell. Actually, several bells of various sizes were rung during the ceremony. After some invocational prayers, one priest took a microphone to encourage everyone to join in reciting the Heart Sutra. We recited it three times--I didn't know it was ever recited more than once. As the flames grew higher, one of the priests invited us to make incense offerings, noting that we might want to think of any special wishes or prayers while making the offering. Then, we started reciting the mantra of Fudo Myo O. That went on for a while, with the pace gradually speeding up until it was pretty frenzied, accompanied by the large drum. Then there was another mantra, one I couldn't identify, and another one that sounded like the mantra of Shakyamuni, but different from the one I know. All through this, the priests were passing ritual tablets through the flames and also adding more materials to the fire. Then, we were invited to join in the Gohogo, the invocation of Kobo Daishi. The ceremony ended after a few more prayers, and then the priests recessed, again led with a hand bell. Finally, they brought out the tablets that had been passed through the flames to present them to believers who had made special offerings.

There were three or four large casks of sake off to one side, with ladles and paper cups. I was hoping...but for some reason, they didn't offer me any! I don't know who got to drink that. But it certainly was a satisfying ceremony. I will see if I get my wish!