Nara and The Great Buddha

Tokyo has been the capital of Japan for 150 years and before that, Kyoto was the capital for over 1000 years. But the first capital was Nara, a small city south of Kyoto. Although it was the capital for only 75 years, the "Nara Period" in the 8th century was an important period. Buddhism, imported from Korea and China, rose to dominance. Chinese characters were adopted for the writing of the Japanese language, and many other Chinese customs were adopted, including the grid pattern of the streets of Nara.

Buddhism thrived and there was a flurry of temple-building. Many of these temples survive because they were built of wood. Earthquakes are a frequent occurrence in Japan and wood construction survives better than stone or masonry. Wood is flexible, and when properly assembles, bends rather than breaks when earthquakes strike. (The city walls and stone temples built by the Greeks in Asia Minor were grand and impressive, but many a city was devastated by earthquakes in antiquity, some so badly damaged that they had to be abandoned.)

But even the best construction seldom survives war. By being the capital for only 75 years, Nara escaped the periods of civil war that devastated Kyoto. And, it was not bombed by the Allies during World War II. So today, Nara can claim to have the oldest building in the world and the world's largest wooden building.

Daibutsu-den Hall, Nara. Note the relative size of the people in the photo.

The Buddhist priests of Nara were nothing if not bold. The largest building was built because they needed to house the largest bronze Buddha in the world. This is the Daibutsu, the Great Buddha. It is 49 feet high and made from 500 tons of bronze and almost 300 pounds of gold. It was made in 751.

 It is truly impressive. Just to give some perspective, the eyes are about 3 feet wide.

The statue has had some trauma over the years, being damaged by earthquakes and fire. Parts of it have been re-cast, but that doesn't lessen the impact of the statue.

There is a halo of smaller buddhas surrounding the statue; the ones higher on the wall are slightly larger than the ones lower. This permits all of them to appear of a similar size when viewed from below.

In addition to the Great Buddha there are two bodhisattva, enlightened beings who want to help other beings attain enlightenment. (Each are about 20 feet high.) People pray to one of them, the Kokuzo Bosatsu, to improve their memory, technical skills and artistic talents. According to the Japan Times, if you recite the Kokuzo mantra one million times, you will be able to "memorize all the thousands of Shingon Buddhist texts. It’s no wonder children in Japan sometimes pray to Kokuzo for academic success and to improve their memories."

Kokuzo Bosatsu

Finally, there are two giant guardians of the Buddha. They are two of the four Heavenly Kings who watch over each of the four cardinal directions. This one, Komoku-ten, is a fierce warrior whose weapons are a scroll and a pen. Perhaps the pen is mightier than the sword.

Komoku-ten

For more pictures of this temple, see Daibutsu, the Great Buddha.

Japanese-style Accommodations (Ryokan and Minshuku)

Japanese love to travel. There's a tradition of travel within Japan that goes back centuries. During one period, the Shogun required the nobility to live in Tokyo every other year. This meant that entire courts traveled to and from Tokyo on a regular basis. An entire industry of travel accommodations developed to support all of this travel, and the tradition has survived in many different forms.

One form of accommodation is the ryokan. For the modern traveler this means high-service, Japanese-style accommodations. Staying at a ryokan is a non-stop ordeal of eating exquisite food, lounging in hot baths, napping in warm beds, and then getting up and doing it all again. We aren't that tough; that kind of luxury was more than we could handle, but we did stay in Japanese-style rooms in a home, more properly called a minshuku.

In Kyoto

Japanese rooms are simple. The photo above shows the entire room. On the left the blue sheet covers a mattress, futon and blankets for sleeping. They are stored away every day.

Futon laid out for sleeping.

There's a low table in the center, about 12 inches off the floor and two chairs where the seat is on the floor. You sit in the chair with your feet stretched out in front of you. (That's certainly not comfortable for everyone.)

Separated from the main room by a sliding door is a sort-of balcony, with pillows where we could sit. The balcony has windows with curtains. The sliding door is made of light-weight wood and paper; it separates space, but doesn't keep heat in or provide sound-proofing. 

Every room has a special place called a tokonoma, a sacred alcove. This one has a flower and a stone in front of a small screen. It's the focal point of the room. I don't know why, in this case, there's a painting of sumo wrestlers on the left.

And that's it. There are no closets and just a couple of small shelves. Sparse, by western standards. On the other hand, we had to ask, "Why did we bring all this stuff?"

This is all very traditional. We found this photograph of an old room that looks nearly identical to the room we stayed in:

The shelves and storage space on the left are identical, as is the raised alcove on the right.

We stayed in this room for five nights and found it very comfortable. It got cold at night (53 degrees) but we slept under very warm blankets and turned on a space heater in the morning, so we were fine.

The house is owned by an American-Japanese couple who rented out two rooms to guests. (That's the definition of a minshuku.) They cooked western breakfasts (toast, eggs, cereal) and we ate in the dining room with the other guests.

Their kitchen looked very western to my eye; I don't know how typical this is.

The bath is shared, with a separate room for a western-style toilet and another room for tub and shower. I'm still not used to a shower without a shower curtain; the entire room has a tendency to get wet, but that's expected.

The entire bath is tiled. The shower drain is in the floor in front of the bathtub.

Etiquette

When entering a Japanese home, you immediately take off your shoes in the genkan (the foyer) and step up into the entrance.

You put on sandals, which are provided for guests. Unfortunately, my American-sized feet are larger than Japanese-sized sandals, so I mostly went around in stocking feet.

My feet just don't fit.

When you go into the toilet, you take off your sandals and put on sandals that are for the toilet only. Leaving your sandals outside is the way you show that the toilet is occupied.

Both places we stayed had western-style toilets with one modification. When you flush the toilet, water comes out of a spigot into a basin that drains into the toilet tank, filling it up for the next flush. You can use it to wash your hands. The water going into a toilet tank is perfectly clean. It becomes "grey water" which is perfectly fine for flushing the toilet. It's a clever way to conserve water, but I can't ever see it catching on in this country.

Water spigot and basin on top of the toilet tank for washing hands.

There's also a separate sink outside the toilet for washing hands.

One place we stayed had an outside balcony, and wooden slippers were provided just for use on the balcony. (Sadly, they were also too small.)

Keeping warm

Japan can get cold in the winter, but houses don't always have heat. We stayed for two nights in the mountains near Mt. Fuji and it got cold. But Mt. Fuji is a volcano, and there are hot springs all over the place. Walking down the streets at night we could see steam rising from the storm drains. Our ryokan had natural-spring hot baths in the basement. But when they built the place, they didn't bother to heat the rooms! Eventually, they mounted electric heaters on the walls, which we could use...for $1 per hour!

Pay machine at the bottom, remote control for the heat at top.

We had a lovely time in both of the places we stayed. The second place (in Hakone) had had at least one illustrious guest:

Albert Schweitzer

It was run by a mother and daughter; the mother was almost completely deaf and knew almost as much English as we knew Japanese. But they were the sweetest people and we enjoyed them.

Ann and the mother, our host.

These same photos are also available at Japanese Ryokan and Minshuku.

Quirky Japan

Here is a collection of fun photos. Enjoy!

Fushimi-Inari Taisha Shrine, Kyoto

In the hills east of Kyoto is the main shrine to the Shinto god Inari, patron saint of rice, foxes, fertility, tea, saki, swordsmiths and merchants. But more importantly, Inari (a genderless spirit, a kami) is the patron of modern business in Japan. For success in business, turn to Inari. And the Japanese do that in droves: there are an estimated 32,000 Inari shrines in Japan (according to Wikipedia.)

We arrived at this shrine late in the day; officially it closed at dusk and I was worried we wouldn't be able to see much. But only the worship hall of the main shrine (the haiden in the photo above) closed at dusk; the grounds remained open long after dark. Besides the main shrine there were hundreds and hundreds of smaller shrines that could be visited.

There were statues of foxes all over the place. In western mythology (at least in the United States) the fox is "wily" and is known for getting into chicken coops. But in Shintoism, the fox is the messenger of the god Inari and it holds a key in its mouth. It's the key to the rice granary.

After looking at the main shrine we approached the start of a path through the woods.

The path was lined with torii, the traditional Shinto gates. I thought this was interesting because the torii were so close together as well as being brightly colored. I had to wait a while until most people were out of the picture. Then I turned the corner:

I loved this view. Several other people waited with me to get this photo. Then we began to walk through the torii and found that there were more torii:

 ...and more torii:

I couldn't believe how many there were. There were literally thousands.

Then, turning around...

...we saw that they were all labeled. Turns out that all the torii were donated by businesses and individuals. The inscriptions record the donor and the date of the donation. According to Wikipedia each torii costs $4,000-10,000. They line paths that climb the mountain for several kilometers.

At several places along the path there were clusters of shrines.

At all shrines and temples you can buy something as a prayer gift, typically a candle, paper with a prayer on it, or a shingle of wood where you can write your own prayer. The Fushimi-Inari shrine has its own twist on the idea:

Buy your own torii and present it as a gift to the shrine of your choice.

The Fushimi-Inari shrine is an impressive complex, and walking it at dusk was a special experience. The thousands and thousands of torii makes it a unique place.

For more photos see the Fushimi-Inari photo gallery.

Architecture in Tokyo

I like buildings. I like interesting modern buildings. Most modern buildings are boring. They look like bricks with windows. But some architects think differently. They go to a lot of work to design a building with something extra. And it's that "extra" that I appreciate.

Tokyo is a modern city, and it has more than its share of interesting buildings. I went in search of those buildings.

Nakagin Capsule Tower, 1972, by Kisho Kurokawa.

Kurakawa designed an apartment building that would be entirely modular. Each capsule (or room) is 7.5 x 12 x 7 feet and it is attached to a steel framework by exactly four bolts. The capsules could be easily replaced. If you wanted a new capsule, it would be manufactured off-site and then installed in the tower. For what it's worth, this never happened, and all of the original capsules are still in place.

Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, 1991, Kenzo Tange

Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building

According to Wikipedia, this 48-story building was designed to look like a computer chip but also to be reminiscent of a Gothic cathedral. For what it's worth, I think it looks more like a cathedral than a computer chip because of the twin spires. The best part of this building, though is the free observation deck on the 45th floor. It has great views of the city, especially at night.
And, it's the subject of my favorite photo of Tokyo.

Tokyo International Forum, 1996, Rafael Vinoly

The Glass Hall of the Tokyo International Forum is exactly that: all Glass. It's 190 feet high and 738 feet long and has glass walkways crossing the interior. It's really cool to walk through the center of this huge space.

The building is supported by two concrete pillars and held together by a steel lattice. 

Fuji Building, 1996, Kenzo Tange

This is one of the most recognized buildings in Tokyo, with the 100-foot diameter sphere inside the building. It contains a restaurant(!) and an observation deck. I was only able to see this from the train, but it looked interesting.

Maison Hermes, 2001, Renzo Piano

Piano was inspired by Japanese lanterns when he designed the Japanese headquarters of Hermès, a French luxury goods company. Doesn't look like much during the day, especially from the front. But it's encased in glass block, and at night (I understand that) it glows like a lantern.

The building is split into two halves and in the small plaza between is some Art. I think it's pretty cool, though I'm not sure what it is that's climbing the building.

For more pictures of this building see the photo gallery.

 Tokyo Tower, 1958, Tachu Naito

The Tokyo Tower was an important symbol of Tokyo's recovery after World War II. It was built in 1958 as a support structure for television antennae and it includes an observation deck. Unfortunately, to Western eyes, it looks like a rip-off of the Eiffel Tower. The orange-and-white color scheme is, well, distinctive. But there's a reason. The color is "international orange" used for air safety purposes. It's the same color as another famous structure, the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco.

Tokyo Tower and Zojo-ji Temple

Kyoto Tower, 1964, Makoto Tanahashi

I think the Kyoto Tower is a more pleasing structure than the Tokyo Tower, though I may be biased because I only saw it at night, when it presents a striking image. It was built for the 1964 Tokyo Olympic Games and its modern steel construction contrasts sharply with the old, mostly wooden structures of Kyoto. If nothing else, it's well-lit at night.

Observation deck, Kyoto Tower

For more interesting architecture see the Architecture Photo Gallery. Also, the Tokyo at Night gallery includes buildings lit at night.

The Re-birth Experience

Don't read this if you ever intend to visit Kyoto.

At the Kiyomizu-Dera Temple in Kyoto our guidebook suggested going through a particular entryway next to the main shrine; it wouldn't say more. I will.

Kiyomizu-Dera Temple

We were asked to take off our shoes and place them in sturdy plastic bags. We were instructed to hold the plastic bag in our right hands and grab a handrail with our left. At the appropriate time, we were to make a wish or say a prayer. We would know when.

We started down a flight a stairs where there was no light. At the bottom we passed through a curtain and the light from above was cut off. It was pitch dark. The wooden handrail changed to a rope with large wooden beads that led us further into the dark. We took very tiny steps, inching our way along, not knowing what to expect. With our right hands holding the bags with our shoes, we couldn't use our right hands to feel ahead of ourselves. We had to trust the beaded rope. We turned one corner, then another, then another. The beaded rope continued to lead us on.

Suddenly there was a dim light ahead and we came upon a smooth round stone, perhaps two feet in diameter. On in was inscribed a Sanskrit character, presumably a blessing or good-luck charm. Each of us let go of the beaded rope and put our left hands on the stone, which began to turn. We slowly walked around it clockwise and silently said our prayers. We could see only the stone and its character and our hands. After one turn we reached out for the beaded rope to resume our journey of discovery. After another turn or two we began to see light ahead. A curtain and a flight of stairs led us to the outside world.

Not surprisingly, all of this had meaning. From a description provided by the temple: "Zuigu-Bosatsu is symbolized by a Sanskrit character (hara), which is known as a motherly Buddha, who would grant any wishes you have if they are sincere enough to come true. The basement of the Hall is regarded as the womb of Zuigu-Bosatsu. That is why it is completely dark inside and there is supposed to be no space for your attachment. You are supposed to walk through the basement following the Buddhist beads [the beaded rope]. When the Zuigu-Stone appears in front of you, you will make a wish and turn the Stone with your true prayer. After you are out through the womb, you will purify yourself and feel the rebirth with the virtue of Zuigu-Bosatsu."

Pretty cool, eh?

The Tokyo Subway

We've heard lots of stories about the Tokyo Subway system. What is it?

It's Big

There are 13 subway lines serving 285 stations covering 204 kilometers (125 miles) with a daily ridership of 9.3 million people. By comparison, Boston has 4 subway lines serving 51 stations covering 61 kilometers (38 miles) with a daily ridership of 1.3 million people. (Note that neither numbers include buses, commuter rail or light rail.

It's Complicated

Here's the subway map:

Need I say more?

What's most interesting is that four of the subway lines are owned by one company and nine are owned by another company. They operate on separate rails though they share some subway stations. They do not accept transfers from the other company so a "simple" transfer from one line to the other might involve buying a new ticket.
Imagine the MBTA in Boston. Imagine the Green Line owned by one company and the Red, Orange and Blue by another company. They share Park Street Station but have completely separate ticketing and turnstiles. Oh, and the MBTA commuter rail is another company, as is the Silver Line and the Mattapan trolley. And don't get me started on buses!

The Stations are Big

Station map showing 19 exits (I think)

A typical station has more than a dozen exits. These are not just exits on the four corners of an intersection; some exits may be two blocks away (500 meters or a third of a mile.) Some underground arcades connecting nearby stations are even longer.

At rush hour this would be packed with people

Many stations serve four different subway lines; one serves five.

We made one transfer (inside one station) with a suitcase: we walked 800 feet, went up or down four flights of stairs totaling 60 steps. That seems pretty typical and certainly not long.

Multiple levels; be sure and take the right set of stairs!

An escalator that goes up, then level, then up again

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Multiple Stations cause Multiple Headaches

One big station is called Shinjuku. But there are also nearby stations named Shinjuku-nishiguchi, Shinjuku-sanchome, Shinjuku-gyoeinmae, Nishi-shinjuku, Nishi-shinjuku-gochome and Seibu-shinjuku. It's possible that all of these are connected underground
. Don't quote me: we got very, very lost in this network of stations.

It's Crowded

Over 9 million people ride the subway every day. The trains are crowded, especially at rush hour. Some trains have 10 cars and the trains come very frequently (every couple of minutes) so they can move a lot of people.

Because it's so crowded, they have a "Women Only" car during rush hour

And Yet, It's Manageable

If you know how to ride the MBTA in Boston, you can ride the Tokyo Subway. You'll walk a lot, make a mistake here or there and walk some more, but you will get where you're going. They make it easy for you. There are signs in English and the stops are numbered. You can easily figure out that if you're in station M10 and you're going to M13 you have three stops to go on the train that's going towards higher numbers.

People are Orderly

The subway cars stop at exactly the same place every time. Some stations have safety gates in front of the doors. There are markers on the floor showing where to stand while you wait for the train so that you don't block people exiting the train. When the train comes, everyone waits for passengers to leave the train before getting on. If there are too many people to fit on the train, people wait on the platform for the next train.

Lined up, waiting for the gates to open...

...letting people off...

...then getting on board...

...and finally the doors and gates close.

People are Quiet and Considerate

Mobile phones are banned, of course. People will talk, but not often and not loudly. And everyone is asked to be considerate of others:

The subway cars have displays showing the current station, the next station, and other helpful information, in English and in Japanese.

Finally, for all the crowds, it's remarkably quiet during rush hour:

These pictures can also be seen at: http://www.keepandshare.com/photo/487364/tokyo-subway.