今治 Imaharu

– Imabari 今治

One Thursday, in December of 2009, as I was cycling my city bike – a one speed Bridgestone girls bike, standard issue - down a small residential street, meandering along the edge of a hill, to work, I chanced to glance down at a strange bundle of books placed by the side of the road, for recycling. Among the tidily wrapped lumps of magazines and paperbacks were seven or eight photo albums.




I stopped and stared. Someone’s memories were being disposed of. Probably someone had died and their children, or grandchildren, burdened with cleaning up and the daily grind, had just given up and decided to get rid of these things. Or so my thoughts went. But people around here often live to be quite old; it’s not in the least unusual to see people in their eighties out and about. There is one man I see periodically, riding a bike, who I swear looks about….a thousand and ten years old. Methusalah! On a bike!



One should never pick up things that are not one’s own in Japan. It is almost stealing, even if it’s garbage. And the local neighborhood association ladies (they’re usually old ladies) would be sure to be somewhere close by. But, after a moment’s thought, I quickly picked up those albums, unable to bear the thought of their being burned at the city incinerator. I furtively pedalled the rest of the way to work and took them into the back room (the storage room) before opening them.



The view from a biplane.



There were photos, many of them from what looked like middle or high school, many from the beach, some from, obviously, elsewhere. They looked like they were taken in the twenties, or thirties and perhaps into the early forties. Some bore the stamp of a local photo shop. Some were quite beautiful, like the picture of the young woman with hair down almost to her ankles (!)





I showed a few of them to my English students, among them my landlady, Mrs. Nagai, and she recognised one of the landscapes as being from a neighborhood just to the west of my GEOS school, perhaps 4 kilometres from her house, where I lived, and where we were sitting. She had grown up there sixty years before.

I thought I could recognise Karakohama beach, at the south end of town, from it’s distinctive rows of pine trees. Everyone agreed this was so.


Imabari Kita High School - possibly then a girl's school




I recognised Imabari Kita (North) high school, not a block from the house outside which I picked up these books. It looked very different, but not as much as one would expect, given a couple of renovations over seventy or more years (!!)



Katsuhiko told me the picture of a young man with a catcher’s mitt, taken in a middle school photo, became a famous baseball player in Japan in the thirties. He took me to a small museum at Botchan Stadium in Matsuyama, when his sons were playing a match there, and, sure enough, there he was.





Much of the time people had trouble working out the ‘old’ kanji (pre-1945, that was when the Kanji system was overhauled, and some symbols mothballed. Japanese Kanji were just overhauled again a couple of years ago). Eventually, on a pennant, I stumbled over the name ‘Imaharu’ (now-stomach?!!). I am told Imabari means ‘ocean place’; this older name seemed strange. Katsuhiko told me that this was indeed the old name for Imabari. In 1945, after being carpet bombed (there is a plaque in front of Nanko-bo temple), the people of the town apparently changed its’ name.







After they’d been sitting around for a few months, I decided that the photos should perhaps be placed into the city archives, so I took them to my friend Akiko Tokura at ICIEA and asked her where I could find the archives. She said she would take them and try to place them (something about the library).

On further reflection, I wanted to document these pictures by making digital copies; these images are from that collection.










This picture was taken on Ishizuchi-san, a sacred mountain about 50 kilometres southeast of Imabari. These are the first set of chains, a test of faith set by Kukai.






Below: the trail on the ridge leading to the final flank of the climb. Ishizuchi-san is surrounded by a special mountain ecology, more here.





It looks like the view south eastward from the north side of TenguDake, Ishizuchi's co-peak.










Finished high school, or joining the army? I read a book recently about the life of a country geisha in this period, called 'Autobiography of a Geisha', by Sayo Masuda. Masuda-san just died a few years ago.







This looks to my eye exactly like one spot on the ohenro walking trail up to temple 58, Senyuji, from Asakura, in south Imabari. Not outrageous if you consider this trail has been here, and in daily use, since about 800 AD.

























































































































As for the name, apparently the combined Kanji making up Imabari - 今 and 治, can be pronounced ‘Imaharu’ as well…so the written name didn’t change, just the pronunciation.

Cycling the Shikoku no Michu 18

Day Eighteen: Home to Imabari, Temples 51 – 54




After the obligatory local bento, I headed off to temple 51, Ishiteji. A large complex of shrines, in beautiful grounds. It seems almost always to be busy with tourists and pilgrims. Near the priest’s office, I found, stuck to a post, an old photo, pre second world war, depicting two henro in traditional garb, walking. A wonderful picture.









Besides the unique and very cool covered entry avenue into the temple, where the pilgrim can buy all sorts of things, from straw sandals to prayer beads – these streets have a name, but I can’t remember what they’re called – there are lots of nice nooks and scenic spots within the temple grounds.










There is also a shrine to Japanese fallen soldiers here. I went over to take a look.













A relaxed 11 kilometre ride through Matsuyama to temple 52, Taisanji, which is tucked off to the northwest end of the city.



It is a lovely old temple on a big hill, with the mon at the bottom of the hill. There is a tea house about two thirds of the way up the half kilometre road.





Beside the gorgeous old hongan (original posts!!), there is a strange small tower off to the right with paintings all over the walls and ceiling.




















There is no priest’s office up at the temple, so a couple and I walked back down to the large, and very nice priest’s house, which seems to be where they keep their office.






Collecting my bike from the mon, where I had left it, as usual, I rode the few kilometres to Temple 53, Enmyoji. A nice, small, quiet temple.


There I met an arukihenro, from Nagano I believe. He looked to be in his mid thirties, dressed very rough, very tanned. He said this was his tenth walking pilgrimage on the circuit. He told me he had run away from his job, when on a business trip, to do this walk, back in April (!!?).


He seemed to have a few issues, but was very kind and gentle, and showed me the famous ‘hidden madonna’ in the garden, secretly worshipped by Christians in the late Kamakura, and Edo eras, when doing so was punishable by death. I hope he found a measure of peace in his walk.





Technically, I was now finished the pilgrimage, but I still needed to go back to the first temple I visited, Enmeiji in Imabari, to get my final, duplicate nokyocho. Henro are also supposed to go to Mt. Koya in Nara both before and after completing the pilgrimage, but I was not able to do that this time.


April 4, 2009.


I rode the seaside road to Imabari, rte. 96, as I have a dozen times before, cycling to Matsuyama and back. It is a lovely ride, with the ocean views, the sound of the waves, and the breeze off the water. There are a few spots where it is narrow, and a bit risky for bikes, but I just ride on the sidewalk/ bikepath on the inland side for those parts. The one spot where this is not possible is the hill just to the west of Onishi – it’s very narrow, with no shoulder, and a 2 foot deep concrete ditch with no barrier ten inches outside the white line. But this lasts only for a kilometre or so.


I stopped in Awaii, at the mall, to look in on my old schoolroom there. I had four schoolrooms that I taught in for GEOS for Children – this one was the westernmost one. I last taught here on Saturday, April 16th, four days before GEOS’ bankruptcy and this one’s immediate closure. I continued to teach until the end of June at the others. In the three months since I had been here, it looked like nothing had been touched. Everything was just sitting there.

A strange feeling came over me as I looked at it. I felt pretty bad for my students here – though I only had six or seven. They probably lost their lesson contracts with GEOS, as the Matsuyama school closed and they almost certainly wouldn’t have received refunds.

In Fuji Palty, I had a nice chat (in Japanese! Yay!) with a clerk who recognised me. She asked what I was up to, and I told her. It was nice to connect with someone in Hojo.





I arrived in Enmeiji in Imabari around 1:30, prayed, left my staff in one of the stands, got my final signature in my nokyocho, and headed down the road to SATY for some groceries.

At GEOS, I saw the other foreign teacher, Hiroki, and the new manager there. After a chat, I headed home to the Nagai’s house.



My little cat, LBK, now re-named Miiko, was very excited to see me. She had been pretty good, but seemed a bit depressed. She had run away for a few days, and was covered with fleas. I went out and got her a flea collar, and when we took her to the vet a few days later he said she was fine. The Nagais very kindly decided to keep her as their pet. A few months later my friend Akiko sent me some pictures of her and she seems to be doing well.

New Years, 2011. Taken by Akiko Tokura.


Three days later I caught the Orange ferry from Toyo overnight to Osaka, and the next day left Japan.