In October there is another one of those seemingly random
holidays; this one for National Health and Sports Day. To celebrate the resulting three-day weekend,
I traveled to Nara-shi, Nara-ken.
First of all, let me stress one major point: I have been
waiting for this trip since before I came to JET last year. The application process for JET is confusing,
complicated and just plain cray cray, and doing so during my junior/senior
years of college while tackling two theses projects probably wasn’t the best
move for my ulcers. However, one of my
motivators was, ironically, my classes; all of the historical facts and ukio-e
prints I was learning about in my classes got me excited for the “real deal.” But one of the images that stood out for me
was the Daibutsu (“Great
Buddha”) in Nara. NERD ALERT: To think
that something so old (even with its restorations), historic and artistically
beautiful was still around, and that I could actually go see it for myself
isn’t a feeling I can accurately describe.
Somehow, the Daibutsu became a symbol of sorts for my goals, and so
seeing it wasn’t an option, but rather was a matter of time. After several attempts and false starts, this
weekend felt like a long time coming.
Saturday morning was spent taking the train from
Osaka to Nara, and when we arrived we were greeted by Sento-kun. Japan…why are half of your mascots kawaī, and the other half kowai? Sento-kun is officially the creepiest mascot
I’ve come across on my travels here in Japan.
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| Sento-kun, WHY YOU SO CREEPY!? |
Moving on from the Sento-kun trauma, the first
thing on the list was to see the infamous shika. The deer in Nara are plentiful, and in the
Shinto religion considered to be messengers from the gods. They roam freely throughout the city,
sometimes showing up in the most random of places. Despite being wild animals, they are not
above being hand-fed shika biscuits.
It costs ¥150 for 10 biscuits, and the deer will start queuing as soon
as you pull out your wallet – they have a sixth sense for the jingling of coins
like our cat Bubba had for the cutlery drawer where we kept the can opener
(Tuna? Tuna?). A friend fed them on
Saturday morning and was nearly mobbed and robbed of all cotton articles. I opted to wait until later.
After surviving the shika, we visited the Isuien
Gardens. While I’m not usually
interested in gardens, all of the guidebooks and pamphlets insisted it was a
“must-see,” and it sure didn’t disappoint.
After the craziness with the shika, it was nice to slow down and
stop to smell the proverbial roses. Even
though we weren’t the only ones there at the time, it was really quiet. It was
all beautiful, and offered a great view of the Todai-ji, the temple where the Daibutsu
is kept. Also on the garden grounds was
the Neiraku Art Museum, which hosts a small collection of Buddhist ink
scrolls and ceramics. The gardens
themselves feel as though they’ve been cut in half because they were originally
two separate gardens until a Nara businessman bought the two properties in
order to set up the museum. While the
property was purchased in 1760, the current design of the gardens was completed
in 1939. One of the coolest designs
(that I didn’t realize at the time) was that the large pond in the second half
of the gardens resembles the kanji for mizu (water) – major planning and
attention to detail.
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| The back of Issuen Gardens, with Todai-ji in the background (L). Daibutsudent and Daibutsu (R). |
We moved on to Todai-ji, the place I was obviously most
excited about. The grounds were massive,
and the Daibutsuden was larger than I could have imagined. The Daibutsu itself is 52 feet tall
and, up until 1998, was housed in the world’s largest wooden building. The foundations for Todai-ji began in 728 when
Emperor Shōmu commissioned the Kinshōsen-ji as an appeasement for his son
Prince Motoi, who died a year after his birth.
Japan was in the midst of crisis: revolts, attempted coup d’états, poor
crops, earthquakes and fires left the country broken. In hopes of appealing to the Buddha for help
and security, Shōmu ordered the
construction of the Daibutsu at the location of the Kinshōsen-ji in 743. The project nearly bankrupted Japan (the
statue is made entirely of bronze), but an estimated 2.6 million people helped
either finance or construct the Great Buddha, and it was completed and
dedicated in 752. Over the years, the Daibutsuden has been rebuilt twice (the
current building was built in 1709, and is considerably smaller than the
original) and parts of the Daibutsu
have had to be repaired several times; the most severe in 855 when the Buddha’s
head fell clean off. The statue’s
current hands date back to the Momoyama period (1568-1615) and the head dates
back to the Edo period (1615-1867).
Before
entering the Daibatsuden, there is a
gigantic urn to burn incense and pray – it would have been a lovely moment if I
hadn’t burned the absolute Dickens out of myself. The short version of the story is that I
accidently played chicken with freshly lit incense and lost. Even though the trip was in early October and
it’s now January, I still have the mark on my arm. At least it was a holy burn.
Finally
seeing the Daibutsu was a surreal experience; I’d been studying it for so long,
seeing it in person was awesome. Sure, I
knew its dimensions, but seeing it up close made it feel that much more
ginormous and impressive. And that fact
that pieces of it date back to the 8th century and it’s completely hand
wrought? Historynerdplosion.
After
visiting the main Todai-ji complex, we headed south towards the Nandaimon (“Great South Gate”).
The current Nandaimon is a
reconstruction styled in the 12th century Song Dynasty aesthetic. Flanking the gate are two dancing figures “Nio,” and each guardian is 28 feet
tall. The pair of guardians are called Ungyo (closed-mouth expression) and Agyo (open-mouth expression). Between 1988 and 1993, conservationists from
the National Treasure Repairing Institute in Kyoto restored the figures to keep
them structurally sound; the six-year long project cost the Japanese government
approximately $4.7 million USD. What
surprised me most about this area was how many deer there were – the place was
teeming with deer waiting to be fed.
Over the years, the deer have developed quite the cushy deal: In
exchange for roaming wherever they please and being fed biscuits all day, they
learn to bow. That’s it – though
sometimes they don’t even do that; they just steal your biscuits (that sounds
like a really bad euphemism for something).
The deer at Nandaimon were
still a bit too rowdy for me to feed.
>_<
After
getting though the mob of tourists and persistent shika, we continued eastward towards the Kasuga Taisha shrine; this particular shrine is Nara’s most important shrine
and is famous for its lanterns. It was
established by the Fujiwara clan at the same time as the capital in 710, and is
thought to house the deity responsible for the protection of the city. Like the Ise
shrines, Kasuga Taisha has been
periodically rebuilt every 20 years; however the custom was discontinued at the
end of the Edo period.
The
lanterns Kasuga Taisha is famous for
have all been donated by worshipers.
Hundreds of bronze lanterns are hung from the buildings, while just as
many stone lanterns line the pathways around the grounds. The lanterns are lit twice a year for Lantern
Festivals in early February and mid-August, but there was a small dark room in
the inner part of the shrine where a few lanterns were lit electrically for
display.
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| Lanterns at Kasuga Taisha. |
There
are also over a dozen auxiliary shrines in the woods surrounding the main
shrine, twelve of which are on the path past the main shrine complex and making
up a “tour of the twelve lucky gods.”
Inside the main compound is a Treasure House, which we were not able to see
inside of, but house the shrine’s ancient relics including two sets of large taiko drums. There was also a sacred, forested area behind
the shrine called the Kasuga Primeval
Forest, but it was closed to the public.
At the
end of a very long day of walking and sightseeing, we ate dinner in Nara at an
awesome Indian restaurant before taking the train back to Osaka for the night.
Our
second day in Nara began at the Heijo Palace Grounds, which is an active
archeological site. With the threat of
Buddhist influence in the government, the capital was moved from Heijo-kyo (modern Nara) in 784, and the
city was nearly abandoned as people flocked to the new capital. However, because of the many temples along
the edges of the former capital, the city eventually grew around the temples
instead, leaving the former palace grounds to be turned into rice fields.
The
land remained rice paddies until the 1950s when the government reclaimed the
land and began conducting archaeological research, which is still ongoing and highlighted
through the Excavation Site Exhibition Hall, where exposed excavation sites are
left opened for public viewing. While some
of the area has been faithfully reconstructed to when Nara was Japan’s capital
city, the museum showed how the archaeologists and preservationists have
excavated and painstakingly cataloged artifacts and making historical
discoveries, which was really unique to see.
From
the archaeologists’ research, preservationists have been able to reconstruct
three important buildings within the past few decades: The Former Audience Hall
(Daigokuden), Suzaku Gate (Suzakumon) and the East Palace Garden (Toin Teien). After our tour of the museum, we moved on the
Former Audience Hall. The Audience Hall
is the largest building on the palace grounds, which was reconstructed on the
1300th anniversary of Nara Capital, and opened to the public in
April 2010. In its time, the Audience
Hall was primarily used as the site of important ceremonies and meetings.
While I
admittedly don’t know much about Japanese architecture, the reconstruction of
the Audience Hall was very impressive.
Everything was really detailed, including the “throne” where the emperor
would have sat to the murals of the zodiac and animals of the compass on the
ceiling. The view was amazing, and it
was easy to imagine the emperor receiving guests and viewing his kingdom from
the hall. To contrast what the emperor
would have seen in his day, there was a train station built right in the line of
sight of the hall, bringing the difference between the past and the present
into perspective.
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| Photos from Heijo-kyo Palace Grounds. |
Beyond
the views of the Audience Hall include the Suzaku Gate, another important
historical site in Nara and was reconstructed in the 1990s. Hopefully on my next trip to Nara I can visit
the Nara Palace Site Museum, the Heijokyo
History Museum and the East Palace Gardens.
After
seeing the Heijo Palace Grounds we made our way to the Kufuku-ji temple in the center of the city. Just like the Kasuga Taisha, the Kofuku-ji
was the family temple of the Fujiwara clan and was established at the same time
as the capital. At the height of the
Fujiwara clan’s power, the temple complex housed over 150 buildings. Now, only a few structures remain, but all
have been designated UNESCO World Heritage Sites (though, to be honest, I kind
of felt like the whole city was a UNESCO treasure). The most famous buildings associated with the
Kofuku-ji are the five-story and
three-story pagodas, the National Treasure Museum, the Eastern Golden Hall and
the Octagonal Halls. The five-story
pagoda is a Nara landmark and at 50 meters is Japan’s second-tallest pagoda (7
meters shorter than Kyoto’s To-ji
Temple), it was first built in 730 and was most recently rebuilt in 1426. Next to the pagoda is the Eastern Golden
Hall, which features a large wooden statue of the Yakushi Buddha and other
smaller artworks. We also visited the
Northern Octagonal Hall which was originally built over a thousand years ago,
but was reconstructed in 1789. Inside of
the Octagonal Hall is where some of the temple’s relics are stored, but the
building is only opened to the public a few days a year.
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| Eastern Golden Hall and Five-Storied Pagoda. |
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| Northern Octagonal Hall. |
Kofuku-ji’s main building, the Central
Golden Hall, was closed for renovation…and will remain closed until 2018.
(-_-‘) The Central Golden Hall was
destroyed in a fire in 1717, and although a smaller reconstruction was built in
the 1800s, the government decided to faithfully rebuild the hall in 2010, and
more renovation projects are planed through 2023.
After
seeing the Kofuku-ji, we walked
through Naramachi to see Gango-ji
temple. Naramachi literally translates to “Nara Town,” and is the former
merchant district of Nara, where several traditional residential buildings and
warehouses have been preserved. Most of
these buildings have now been converted to boutiques, shops, cafes, restaurants
and even a few museums. The buildings
seem squashed together because the machiyas
(“townhouses” that served as both shop fronts and homes for merchants) were
kept narrow to save on taxes; taxes used be calculated based on a property’s
street access rather than total square feet.
In the
heart of Naramachi lies Gango-ji
temple; before the 15th century, the extensive grounds covered the
entirety of modern-day Naramachi. Gango-ji was once one of the powerful Nanto Shichi Daiji (Seven Great Temples)
in Nara. The original foundation of the
temple was laid by Soga no Umako in Asuka as Asukadera, which is generally regarded as the oldest Buddhist
temple in Japan, having been built in 588, about 60 years after Buddhism was
introduced to Japan. The temple was
moved to Nara in 718, following the capital relocation to Heijokyo, becoming Gango-ji
temple.
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| Gango-ji Temple. |
Gango-ji originally held as a many as
seven halls and pagodas in its precincts, however the original architecture was
lost to fires during the 15th through the 19th
centuries. Exploring through the museum
to the right of the temple, you could see that many of the artifacts were
charred. Despite the fires, the
best-preserved part of the temple is the Gango-ji
Gokurakubo, or the “main hall” of the temple, which houses several
important Buddhist works. Interestingly, there were several works of
art related to Kobo-Daishi preserved in the main hall, who brought esoteric
Buddhism to Japan and founded the Shingon Buddhist monastery at Koyasan in
Wakayama (small world, huh?).
Finally, it was
time to feed some shika. We returned to Nara Koen (Nara Park) as the sun was setting, and found far more
complacent (and full) deer that didn’t attack you once they saw you had shika biscuits in your hand. It actually took a couple of tries before I
found a deer that was willing to eat my biscuits (again, sounds like a really
bad euphemism for something).
After one more
stroll through the park, we saw many of the Kofuku-ji’s
buildings lit up at nice and decided to head to the train station to hitch a
ride back to Osaka. But, while waiting
for our train, we discovered the holiest of frozen treats: Golden Spoon. The Golden Spoon. It happened, and it was delicious.
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| The Golden Spoon. |
Overall, Nara has
been one of my favorite places to visit in Japan – though I feel as though I
say that about most of the places I’ve visited so far – and I can’t wait for
another adventure there.
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