July 7; Day Four: Getting Lost, Temples 68 – 77
I got lost three times today, twice seriously.
Old sacred tree at Jinnein, Temple 68.
Temple 68, Jinnein, is notable for a large, two story modernist concrete gate or entrance to one of it's shrines.
I asked the priest who the architect was; I believe he said he designed it himself. I liked it but was, still, happy to see the traditional hongan standing gracefully nearby.
Temple 69, Kannonji,had a beautiful mandala painting on the wall near the priest's office; I don't know what it's name was, or much about it at all, and the photo I took did not turn out very well.
Motomoyaji, temple 70, was one of those temples I find oddly beautiful; those with lots of sandy space and trees lining long walkways to the shrines.
It also had a very old, lovely, five storied pagoda.
Looking for Iyadaniji, I got lost for the better part of an hour, disbelieving, second guessing my own map sense. Finally I asked a tinsmith, building tin cans in a tiny roadside shop, where the temple might be, and he kindly set me on the right road.
Iyadaniji, temple 71, is built into a cliff, tucked into the end of a narrow valley. An amazing temple.
The main complex, housing the priest's office, has three major shrines in it and the most exquisite woodworking I have yet seen in Japan. I think it's extraordinarily beautiful.
A small flower display in a shrine cut into the rock.
A feature of Iyadaniji is this very special cave shrine for Kukai.
I saw a nice looking onsen below, though, as it was still morning, and I still had some way to go, I didn't visit it. Also lovely looking walking trails coming away from the temple site, long, tree shaded, tempting avenues.
I got lost again on the way to temple 73, Shushukaji, in the hills. I saw a martin. He told me I was going the wrong way. I turned back. Eventually, within about a kilometre, I found the temple.
Temple 74, Shushukaji's mon.
I did not go up to the inner shrine on the mountain lookout, revered as the spot where Kobo Daishi, at seven years of age (!), threw himself off the cliff, commanding Nyorai, the Buddhist deity, to save him. Lucky kid, apparently she did.
A statue of kukai, and a sound sculpture beside it. On occasion sound sculptures can be found in Japan. I think they relate most closely to the traditional suikinkutsu, where a large urn, like a funerary urn, was buried, and water dripping spines and steps built into its inside. A hole was left open at the top (it's underground, remember), and when water seeped into the top of the sounding chamber, would create small symphonies of dripping water. I had something like this at Yano Taku, created by a metal pipe of about 60 cm in diameter, sunk into the earth, and covered with large old paving stones. There was a hole in the middle between two stones and water flowing down would create a faint cascade and dripping composition. It was beautiful. There is a recent, modern sculptural Suikinkutsu in the park opposite Oyamazumi-jinja on Oshima Island, north of Imabari. This one is not a water sculpture, but when I tapped my walking staff inside the hole, I can hear echoes from the resonating chamber, perhaps 5 or six feet below...
Koyamaji, Temple 74.I repeatedly met an arukihenro at temples 71 to 74. He was keeping up with me! This says something about my riding skills, and much more about his walking abilities! A young guy in his mid twenties, he was striding along at a jogging speed.
Temple 75 is Zentsuji, built on the site of Kukai’s birth home. It is a large, very beautiful temple with a number of culturally very important shrines, paintings, statues and so on. It was packed with worshipers; it probably is every day.
Most interesting is the ‘kaidan-meguri’. Kaidan means stairs, and the kaidan-meguri is a walkway under the main shrine, perhaps 75 meters long, running in a horseshoe from the front right, with a hidden, barely lit shrine in the middle. Except for perhaps five feet around the shrine, it is completely black. The pilgrim takes off their shoes, walks down the stairs into the blackness, and slowly, trailing the fingers of the left hand as a guide along the left wall, intoning ‘Namu Daishi henjo kongo’, walks along.
It was definitely spooky, especially about 15 meters in, when something startled about five or six feet away from me. Thinking for a moment it might be a worshipper, I stopped, and whispered ‘sumimasen’ (sorry!). I heard nothing more, so continued. I could not hear footsteps, or any other sounds. So, not a pilgrim, or at least not a human one. Perhaps a snake, perhaps a rat, I was in any case thankful not to be bitten. The thronging crowd fifteen feet above me might as well have been on the moon. The sight of the shrine was a benediction in itself. Then comes another trial by darkness; an interesting walk!
Temple 77, Doryuji. Heading towards the station area from temple 78, Goshoji, I got lost again. Somewhere near Marugame Castle, riding down a small street near the water, I rolled past a Phillipine grocery store and small restaurant. The front of the store was almost covered with plants in pots. It was 5:30 and I thought this looked way better than McDonalds, so I stopped and went inside. As I opened the door, a cat on a longish string popped out, glanced up at me, and took a seat a few feet outside the door.
There was a large man inside, silent. He spoke no English, and my Japanese was clearly not cutting it. He was a bit intimidating, but called someone on his ktei who spoke some English. She told me she could be there soon and would cook me dinner if I waited. I felt like I had walked into their living room and invited myself to dinner, but could not think of any graceful way to back out. So I thanked her and sat down to wait.
The silent man and I watched TV together. I made a little bit of conversation in Japanese, and this time he seemed to relax a bit and replied. A young phillipino man came in and bought a bottle of shochu. He put it on his tab.
Half an hour later the woman I’d spoken to on the phone arrived, introduced herself, popped into the kitchen and started cooking. She told me she had been here for eleven years and that life was good. I was hoping for adobo, but she served me up a steak, eggs and vegetables! The food was great, and the silent man even spoke a bit and helped me locate where I was…
They were so kind. The meal cost a little bit more than I would have paid at Micky D’s but was, in so many ways, so much more nutritious. I thanked them profusely and wished them the best as I left. They were special people.
An hour later I was standing two kilometres away in a raunchy, ratty hotel room that smelled of stale cigarette smoke. The hotel business has suffered in Japan since the recession of 2008; sometimes I found it difficult to find reasonably cheap hotels still in business…at this one, the proprietor was cheerful, but it was the least prepossessing of all the places I stayed in.
‘We wish you a beautiful mind’
