As mentioned yesterday, there was rain, which rather reduced sightseeing opportunities. In any case, in the morning Hiroko took me along to Haruka's school to deliver a forgotten textbook. In fact, the school is currently closed due to a swine flu outbreak, but a few students still gather in order to study there (because university entrance exams in Japan are scary). That was the first (and probably the last) time I entered a girls' school. Apart from the currently-abandoned corridors, my impressions were twofold: "wow, it really is just like all those anime schools", "except why is everything pink?" Seriously, OK, it's a girls' school and part of a women's university (and why are there such things in this day and age? No, never mind, separate social issue), but having a faded pink building and a pink interior seems like overdoing it to me.
In any case, after failing to find Haruka, Hiroko took me to a shrine up the hill - the Shin-Hiyoshi Shrine, quite pretty, old, and favoured by students from the adjacent educational facilities (which cover the full spectrum of education) when praying for exam success. It is also apparently where Haruka used to practice Japanese archery, at a range at the back. (incidentally, learned today that she can also play the trumpet, or could in middle school, and can play the piano by ear to some extent; do all Japanese students have this wide a range of skills?)
Shin-Hiyoshi shrine grounds. The platform in the middle usually holds a mikoshi or portable shrine.
I'm sure the cages around these deities serve some valuable protective function, but unfortunately they also make one think of a zoo.
Thereafter, we went to Toufukuji temple, of structural relevance to this post because it was created to challenge Nara's Toudaiji and Koufukuji temples (whose names it combines, and which I will write about later). In the rain, the temple had fewer tourists than usual, but was nevertheless exceedingly pretty and surrounded by Japanese maple trees. Had I come a little later, the whole place would have been radiant with autumn foliage.
The halls of Toufukuji. Of note is the main hall, with an enormous image of a dragon on the ceiling. Sadly, it can only be seen via a small wooden grille. The hall also has excellent echo, which Hiroko tested.
Toufukiji is also notable for its various bridges and the excellent views therefrom.
A view across the ample temple grounds.
A zen garden. Good to stare across and relax, but ultimately not offering any more insight into enlightenment than a gaudy and complex mandala would.
Another sekitei. Sometimes, the rocks have known symbolic meaning. Sometimes they don't.
Toufukuji has a vast supply of moss, which in this instance has been exploited to create a pretty mosaic. Not walkable on, though.
Of the three zen gardens in the abbot's quarters, the first is the Garden of Vanity and completely blank. The second is this, which represents a dragon rising out of the sea into the heavens. You can sort of see it if you try.
This one, with red stones that look great in the rain, represents the story of an abbot who, as far as I can tell, was rescued and nurtured by wolves as a child (the tour guide's explanation was a little hard to follow). Each rock symbolises something concrete, like the mountain setting or one of the animals. By the way, the various types of stone in this garden were specially imported from far and wide.
At any rate, Toufukuji was a nice place to wander around with the eternally upbeat Hiroko, even if I wasn't quite in the mood for it. Afterwards, we made our way back in a path aimed at getting me to the net cafe when Hiroko went home. On the way, we stopped off for soba (buckwheat noodles). I finally had the much-heard about Oyako-donburi, made of egg, chicken and rice, as well as soba tea which had an unexpectedly nostalgic taste (buckwheat being a Russian as well as a Japanese ingredient). We also saw, by chance, some real maiko (geishas-in-training) while wandering along Ponto-cho, an old entertainment district/alley (incidentally, the place I had tried and failed to find after the Manga Museum). They were very elegant.
The giant spiders of Toufukuji say hi, by the way.
Which brings us smoothly to today. Today I went to Nara at last, on the twin strengths of it being a sunny, cloudless day, and me being in a good enough mood not to ruin it. Though conversely, getting up early to do so, and only sleeping a little on the train, left me rather sleepy at the start and end of the day.
Across the road, a Japanese cemetery. I've wanted to highlight the differences in shape and style for a while, and I figure at this range it's minimally disrespectful to anyone who cares.
Spending your time photographing cemeteries is what happens when your guidebook somehow decides that the Japan Rail train station you're using is unworthy even of displaying on its map. That said, I learned today that I'm using an outdated edition - blame my local travel shop. Anyway, I eventually found my way to its favoured waypoints and the suggested walking tour.
First, though, a note about deer. They. Are. Everywhere. Deer are regarded as sacred messengers of the gods in Shinto, so may do as they please (incidentally, the sacred message appears to be "feed the deer"). They wander the park, totally unafraid of humans and not beyond pestering them for snacks. Shika senbei, or deer crackers, are ubiquitously available for sale, too. Valuable tip: when feeding the deer brown crackers, avoid wearing a shirt with a brown pattern on it. Turns out they do not discriminate.
Nara deer, size S. For reference, the cracker next to it is about the size of a digestive biscuit.
Nara deer, size M.
Nara deer, size L. It's horn-shedding seazon, so marvellous specimens like this were rare.
My first destination, in accordance with the general route of the walking tour, was Koufukuji. A great and expansive temple in its heyday, fires have reduced its original buildings to only a few. This, by the way, is a common story: between fires, earthquakes and WWII bombing, very few historical buildings in Japan are their original selves - conversely, the Japanese have refined the art of the faithful reproduction to startling levels.
The more impressive of the two Koufukuji pagodas.
Koufukuji main hall, strikingly bereft of deer.
I was underwhelmed by Koufukuji, but it did have a very neat museum - minimal on the English explanations, but with some statues of monks with exceptionally expressive faces, as well as a huge golden statue of Kannon (with requisite 1000 arms). Having browsed it, I moved on to Isuien, a particularly beautiful and blissfully tourist-free garden (I think the few tourists there were busy having tea at the nearby teahouse). Isuien was not only a nice, peaceful place for a walk, it also featured some stunning wildlife, including swarms of huge waterskimmers and a lot of dragonflies which came out blurry in photos. However, my best shots are before you for perusal.
A tiny lizard with a very long tail. It scampered onto a nearby stone as I entered, then scuttled into a ready-to-flee position when it saw me. But it didn't actually flee, for which I am grateful since it gave me this more dynamic pose.
Half of photographing this magnificent creature was the luck of encountering it, and half was the patience of waiting until the moment it finally unfolded its wings. I've met people like that, too.
The garden, or at least an attractive part thereof. The area around the pond teems with miniature life-forms.
An old water-mill, with no discernable practical purpose but definitely a contribution to the scenery.
This Isuien teahouse was is a replica of one built according to exacting specifications by a great tea master. Every single rock on the ground is also part of the schematic.
From Isuien I moved on to the star attraction - Toudaiji, renowned for sheer scale. The approach to its main gate was lined with stalls selling deer crackers, and correspondingly with opportunistic deer.
A herd of deer homes in on cracker-carrying tourists. They may look gentle, and by and large they are, but suddenly getting swarmed by them, with a hungry look in their eyes, can be a little scary.
Toudaiji's main gate is huge. Et tu, Nara...
But I will forgive it because of its two exquisitely crafted Nyo Guardian statues, seemingly ready to strike down any threat to the peace of the temple (as long as it's not a deer).
The Daibutsu Hall, the biggest wooden building in the world. Believe it or not, it's a two-thirds size replica of the destroyed original.
Front view. Anticipating the wishes of the public, the temple authorities have banned group photos.
In spite of a group photo ban, though, the hall is pretty much unique in my experience in allowing free photography inside, which is just as well since it contains some huge and remarkably well-built statues. Filled with tourists and tour guides, of course, but I guess that's natural. Use of tourism as a natural resource is in full flow here, with the most notable form being the ability to write your name, the date and a wish on a slate to be used in renovating the temple roof - thus making it part of the temple in perpetuity. Sort of cool for those who seek permanence, given that ordinary emas must presumably be taken down sooner or later (or they'd overflow). But if this really assures "eternal happiness" as the poster claims, then what worth does that assign to an ordinary, fleeting prayer (which the Japanese usually accompany with minimal-value coins, justifying this with claims that a higher-price blessing will take longer to manifest)?
The Hall's Daibutsu, or great Buddha image. The pedestal he sits on is apparently decorated with a complex mandala depicting the cosmology of all of reality, but since you can't see it I wonder why they bothered with an explanatory notice. I find this sort of unselfconscious arrogance wonderful, like the Muslim weavers who deliberately introduce a single imperfection into their carpets so as not to offend Allah by attempting perfection - with the implication that if they didn't do so, perfection would be in their grasp.
One of the Hall's four lesser but still imposing statues. Actually, the stone ones were better, but didn't come out in the photos.
Having had my fill of epic grandeur, I moved outside, where miscellaneous Interesting Things lined the way to Toudaiji's subtemples, Nigandou and Sangandou. It was the former I aimed for, since it was said to have an amazing view of Nara. It did, and I rather liked its relaxed, authentic atmosphere.
Outside, a replica of Emperor Asoka's pillar at Sarnath. Asoka (pronounced Ashoka, but this keyboard won't do the special "s") was one of history's greatest emperors (in my opinion), because he not only converted to Buddhism but actually behaved and ruled the way a Buddhist is supposed to. He erected pillars like this, and scribed his edicts on them, which special officials could then use to instruct the populace in Buddhist ethics.
Nigandou, unassuming to look at, but with a very nice atmosphere. Note the upper veranda.
View over Nara from said veranda. Way better in person than in photo.
This Engrish break brought to you by the shopkeeper cats of Nara.
One way to ensure cleanness of public toilets. A middle-aged Japanese man standing nearby saw me take this photo and just muttered "gaijin" ("foreigner").
It's not that I've seen much discrimination of this sort in Japan, but when it does come out, it can surprise you. The katakana underneath confirm it's not a misspelling.
Again with the admirable honesty. To make it worse, the cafe's name was visible on dozens of little flags lining the street.
Note the cutlery shop sign on the outside and the fine selection of real katanas on the inside. Did I mention I love Japan? (also, this shot was Hell itself to line up)
Having enjoyed the above, and taken countless further pictures of deer, I moved on to Kasuga Taisha, the tutelary shrine of the Fujiwara family, who held scary levels of dominance over Japan in the Heian period, and to an extent beyond. It is notable for regular rebuilding which has preserved some truly ancient Japanese architecture. That said, ancient Japanese architecture turns out to look rather dull, and I suspect is of limited interest to non-specialists.
This building, which you will note is lifted completely off the ground, holds sacred treasures, and generally cannot be entered except by members of the imperial family and certain priests.
A total of 3000 lanterns line the Kasuga Taisha area, including approaches such as this one. Other Kasuga shrines ("taisha" meaning something like "head shrine") have established the same number in homage.
A smaller shrine near Kasuga Taisha is made exclusively for lovers. These heart-shaped ema all contain hopes and prayers for lasting love. Equal parts sweet and tacky. I guess I just don't like the notion of explicitly predicating your happiness on another person's choices. But this probably isn't the occasion for expounding my beliefs on romance.
One last thing to note is that, even though I was in a good mood for Nara, I was distracted by something completely different. You see, on my way there I was struck by a wave of inspiration for the novel I'm writing ("That House"). I suddenly knew both exactly how to write the chapter I'd started, and what to do with a character I hadn't before managed to grasp the essence of (for current readers, Natasha; a little more on that in the next post). And, well, when the story starts telling itself, you have to write. It's like a law. So, having had the story running through my head all through my travels around Nara, I spent the last hour or so relaxing on a bench in Nara Park, scribbling furiously in my travel notebook while surrounded by endless deer. I finished the chapter, and came up with enough material for another one, which makes me very happy since "That House" has been at a virtual standstill since I finished the first third a few months ago.
I actually have enough material for another post, but will cover my trip to Osaka separately, partly to avoid having to change all the references to "today" to "yesterday" but mostly because it's late, I have to get up early tomorrow to go to Ise, and sleep deprivation is starting to become an issue.
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