Gardens and Castles and Monkeys, oh my!

Konnichiwa! This day was a day filled with gardens, castles, temples and...monkeys. Yes, monkeys.

First thing in the morning, we met downstairs after a delicious, western style (hallelujah) breakfast to head to our first site of the day: the monkey park.

After lots of burning calves and heavy breathing, we reached the top of "monkey mountain" to find our small primate cousins running around looking for food. I was a little unsure about how I felt about these creatures. They were adorable, therefore I wanted to pet them; they were also completely terrifying, and I wanted to be as far as possible from them. The latter feeling won, and many of the girls (including myself) spend most of our time clinging on to each other and Keen Sensei and shrieking as the monkeys ran around eating the food the workers threw out for them. But they sure were cute. It was an interesting way to start the day.

 
This is a view of Kyoto, photobombed by a monkey. I think his name was Wrinkles.

No monkeys in this picture. Except for Tat.

Now, enough about the monkeys. Although I was completely fascinated by the subjects of this excursion, my assignment is to discuss Japanese gardens, which we have seen many of. And, I can confirm that they are beautiful. I am going to try to convince my green-thumb father to help me start a mini one on our backyard (Dad, if you're reading this, it's time we start a Japanese garden. More details to come when I get home.)

The gardens we saw on this day really showed us how the Japanese truly value and take good care of their gardens, down to each and every stone or tree. Our first garden we saw today was at the Golden Pavilion. This giant, gold-leaf covered temple is surrounded by a pond filled with carp and "islands" that represent the islands of Japan. These "islands," AKA small pieces of land in a pond that are about as big as a car, usually had multiple large rocks or bonsai trees. Typically, the rocks or trees were arranged in a way to represent an animal. The most common animal representations seen in Japanese gardens (NOT Zen gardens, that is a whole 'nother ball game) are a turtle and a crane, which was the case here. These animals represent long life and bring good luck (and who doesn't want that?)





The second garden, and perhaps the most interesting one, was the garden at Nijo Castle. This castle, known as the Samurai castle, was built about 400 years ago by the Tokugawa Shogunate. It is famous for its creaky woodwork (to warn its inhabitants of ninjas who had broken in. Yes, ninjas... I'm serious.) and its bridges that had been used as a set for the movie, The Last Samurai. However, it's garden was very interesting. It was a traditional Japanese garden, because it had water and lots of greenery, unlike Zen gardens, which are dry. Yet, as our guide Tammy pointed out, there are no flowers.

That's when I got confused. From what I had previously studied, traditional Japanese gardens are *supposed* to have flowers. It's just kind of a thing. So what is up with this one??

...See. No flowers.

Well turns out, the Shogun was intent on a long life, like any normal person would be, but he decided that measures should be taken to help ensure a long life, right down to his garden. So he therefore wanted the garden to only represent eternal things, such as rocks, water and evergreen trees. Unfortunately, flowers do not fall in that category, so he therefore banned them from being planted. That's dedication right there.

This garden also included islands in the pond that represented a turtle and a crane. All the stones in the garden were donated by feudal lords.

Lots and lots of rocks.

Sophie C, Class of 2015 

Hiroshima, Noodle Pancakes and Babies: Life Changers

     I woke up on Friday, Jan. 16 with my futon blankets thrown essentially six feet away from me.  Half of that morning was spent trying to understand how the physics of this Earth enabled me to unconsciously discard upwards of two pounds of fabric across space and time into Brianna's futon.
     Anyway, even though I broke physics in my sleep, I woke up ready for a new day in Japan.  We were to leave Miyajima Island that morning, which meant that we were leaving the more relaxed environment of a small island and re-entering the crowded metros and multiple "sumimasens" of a big Japanese city.
     After lugging my overstuffed suitcase across the island, we were set to go on the ferry back to Hiroshima.  We had done a "drive-by" look at Hiroshima the day before, when we were on the metro on the way to the ferry station.  However, I was excited for walking through the city and seeing it with a first-person view.
     I know that when someone hears of the Japanese city of "Hiroshima", he or she thinks of the atomic bombing of it on August 6, 1945 at 8:15 a.m. during WWII.  I wish I could say that when I entered the city, I didn't immediately think about the bombing.  Yet I did.  And that was really the only thing I could think about.
     We entered the Hiroshima Peace Park early in the morning, after we departed from our ferry.  We first saw the bombed out building of the Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial Promotion Hall, which is now known as the A-Bomb Dome.

      The scaffolding is part of a restoration project of the city of Hiroshima.  This restoration will continue the building's preservation as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
      When I looked at the building, the first thought that came to my mind was how its structural engineering enabled it to survive the blast from an atomic bomb.
     Our tour guide, Tammi, answered that question for me.  She stated that even though the A-Bomb Dome was incredibly close to the hypo-center (the point of detonation) of the atomic bomb, it survived because the force of the blast hit the building vertically rather than horizontally.  That, along with its concrete, metal and brick construction, enabled it to survive.
     Then Tammi told us that everyone inside had been killed instantly.
      I had never thought that people could be inside.  I had always imagined the building as it is today: grey and crumbling.  I had always thought that the A-Bomb Dome had always looked like that.  I had somehow forgotten that people had worked in that building.  And they had died.
     We moved on.
     The next memorial sight we saw was one to the schoolchildren essentially "drafted" into the war effort.  Although they did not fight in the military, these children, often as early as age 12, worked to demolish uninhabited wooden buildings and construct fire lanes.  These efforts would help prevent the spread of fire if Hiroshima was ever bombed with incendiary bombs.

     The paper banners are actually hundreds of a paper cranes.  I'll get to their significance later, when we move onto the Children's Memorial.
     One thing I really liked about this memorial was the incorporation of multiple religions into its design.  One can see the five story pagoda structure of Buddhism.  The woman is wearing a belt connected to Shinto.  She also has angel wings which come from Christianity.  I believe that the combination of multiple religions in one memorial structure allows people of multiple faiths to connect with the schoolchildren who perished.  It can also represent a future of peaceful co-existence among all religions, which I find beautiful.  It was nice seeing that level of hope within a memorial to children who perished.
     The next memorial we went to was the Children's Memorial.

     The Children's Memorial is most known for its thousands of paper cranes.  The significance of the paper cranes ties in with the story of Sadako Sasaki, an hibakusha (an Atomic Bomb survivor) who survived the initial bombing at Hiroshima.  However, she developed leukemia at age twelve.  She believed that if she folded a thousand paper cranes, then her disease could be cured.  Even though she folded many cranes, she ultimately passed away.
     The Children's Memorial was thus built in her name.  School children from all over the world send paper cranes to this memorial to promote world peace.
      We visited many other memorials during the day.  These include the Peace Bell, which we all had the opportunity to ring.  I think two people rang the bell, as the tolling was solemn enough to warrant two rings.  I admired the goldfish in the pond.

     The group then went to the museum.  There, we saw artifacts of the Hiroshima bombing.  Seeing the scorched remains of clothing and other personal items made the bombing seem a lot more personal.  Everyone was very solemn at this time.
     After the museum, it was time to meet with the survivor of the atomic bomb.  However, she was sick and unable to make it.  We still were able to hear her story, though, through someone else telling it.  With her artwork accompanying the man's words, the desired effect still occurred; we were all listening intently to her story of persevering through literal hell.
    The survivor of the atomic bomb experienced its effects as she worked to tear down wooden houses and build fire lanes (like those remembered in the Memorial to Schoolchildren).  Even though she was badly burned by the bomb, she managed to make it back home and to safety.
      She also did all of this when she was twelve years old.  I can't imagine having to do that myself.  However, she inspires me to also persevere through difficult times.  I hope that I will never have to experience an atomic bomb; her story also allows me to confidently say that I will never support the use of atomic bombs.


      This was our last stop for our visit to the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park.  I believe that we were all impacted by our experiences within the park.  Even though not much was communicated between us, I believe that we walked away with a message of world peace to spread.  I believe it can happen.  I think the rest of the group believes it too.
     Lunch in Hiroshima, I think, represents my experience in Hiroshima very well.  We got noodle pancakes (that's not their official name, but I can't pronounce the Japanese name for them), and by the time I had received my pancake, I was ready to eat the table.


   
      It took me about ten seconds for me to demolish my noodle pancake.  Another ten seconds to realize that that noodle pancake was the best thing I had ever eaten.
      Then I realized the connotations of that noodle pancake.  Before eating it, I had only thought of Hiroshima for the atomic bomb dropped on it.  I could only think about the death, destruction and the misery of war.  That noodle pancake changed everything.  I could now see Hiroshima as the city affected by an atomic bomb.  However, I now also remember Hiroshima for its delicious noodle pancakes.  I most definitely did not forget Hiroshima's past.  However, I can remember it for something culturally beautiful and delicious.
       Perhaps I'm giving too much credit to a noodle pancake.  Maybe I felt all those things about that noodle pancake because I was so hungry.
       But I believe that my experiences with the noodle pancake cemented my hope in the future, one where world peace is attainable.
      I left that noodle pancake restaurant feeling very satisfied.

      My next realization of the day came when Tat and I met our host family.  If you did not already know this, our host family has a zero year old baby (her birthday is on Jan. 30) who is named Otoha, which means "the sound of leaves rustling in the wind".
      When I usually see a baby, I try to awkwardly avoid him or her.  I don't feel very comfortable around them because I feel like they irrevocably and instantly hate me.
     This was not the case with Otoha.  I felt drawn to her because of the innocence of her new life.  I looked at her and thought of the future.  In that moment, I understood the phrase "babies are the future".  I could see it within her.
     After a depressing day, it was refreshing to see a new life, one that has barely seen what the world can offer.  I hope that she sees all sides of the world: the good, bad and everything in between.
     Who knew my perspective of Hiroshima, atomic bombs and world peace could be changed by noodle pancakes and a baby not yet walking.  I certainly could not predict it.  Could you?

Shelby P. Class of 2015
   

Japan's Most Famous Torii

So far, we have seen just about everything you think of when you think of Japan. We have seen the Great Buddha in Kamakura, we have been to the Ghibli Museum, we have seen a Sumo Tournament, and, as of today, we have finally seen the red torii in the water at the Itsukushima Shrine on Miyajima Island.

The front of the Itsukushima Shrine

We were able to get really close to the torii during low tide.

After taking this picture, we walked through Itsukushima Shrine itself. The shrine was first built in 593, and then rebuilt in 1168 above the water. During high tide, visitors can only get to the shrine by taking the bridge. During low tide, however, visitors can walk up to the shrine on the exposed land between the shrine and the torii. When I walked through Itsukushima, I felt the strategic building of the shrine. The information sheet given to me when I paid for my entrance said, “The contrast of the blue sea, green hills and the vivid vermilion-lacquered shrine is breathtakingly beautiful.” This is completely true. As a UNESCO World Heritage Site, it feels peaceful to be in the shrine itself because it blends itself so well with the landscape.

It is interesting to come from a very religious southern state in the US to a largely non-Christian Asian country. You would think there would be a large contrast, but there is actually quite a bit of cross-over in the religious patterns. Similar to Christianity, Shinto is everywhere. The nature of the religion suggests this, but visitors can also see this with the numerous shrines, including individual ones in the home. Everyone prays here, and everyone is involved in Shinto. The only difference in practicing patterns seems to be the fact that Shinto is only on the island of Japan, whereas Christianity spreads the globe. This fact right here seems to be what draws me to the shrines. Although I don’t practice the religion, I feel like it is a welcoming religion. Shinto is not a missionary religion, so it pretty much welcomes anyone who is living in Japan. 

The famous torii at sunset

Morgan D. 

Class of 2015

Technology on the Way to Miyajima Island

Shinkansen: The Bullet Train
After our first night in a traditional ryokan, we spent most of the day traveling to Miyajima Island via the Bullet Train known as the Shinkansen. The Shinkansen can travel as fast as 320 kilometers per hour, or about 200 miles per hour. It is the world's busiest high-speed rain line. Also, there have been no passenger injuries due to the Shinkansen, an interesting contrast to the daily injuries that occur on the regular railways.

Shinkansen coming to a stop

It was absolutely stunning and amazing to see the scenery rush by.  The Shinkansen, like most other modes of Japanese transportation, are incredibly quiet. However, unlike trains or buses, silence is not only a product of the lack of people speaking but also the engineering design of the train itself. It has a unique shape at the nose of the train that is supposed to reduce noise.

View of houses from Shinkansen

One part was almost like the Hogwarts Express as there was a woman pushing a cart with an assortment of sweets that were so foreign looking that they might as well been magical candies.


The Myth of the Crazy-High-Tech Japanese Toilet
I know I have heard the stories of Japanese restrooms with television screens, a hundred buttons, and magical features. However, the bathrooms seem to be similar to those at home with just a few snazzy features here and there. The bullet train bathroom had a sensor to open the door as well as sensors to lower the toilet seat itself. Even public toilets can be heated and can even play music or mimic the sound of rushing water. There is a bidet feature for those who wish to use it and the public toilets also sometimes have sensors to flush the toilet.

Instructions for Airport Toilet

The sinks are usually motion sensor as is the hand dryer if there is one (rarely are there paper towels). All these features seem to be an attempt a limiting the amount of germ spreading as possible. The culture of the Japanese as a very tidy and considerate people really shine even in the bathrooms.

-Isabel N. (Class of 2016)

Facing Possible Doom at Any Second (and other musings)

Today was a turbulent day for the group. All the information we were given ahead of time was that we were going to "Tour Hakone with the Guide." The Guide being, of course, our beacon of hope, Charlie. So we had no real expectations for the day. My expectation was walking. Walking. Walking. Walking. The best summary for this day that comes to mind is: Pleasant surprise.

We began the day with three separate subway trains and then finally the bullet train. Wooshing by the Japanese countryside at 165 mph made me want to stick my head out the window like a dog and let the sun dry me to a crisp. Watching the countryside fly by was fascinating, especially since it looked like plainsplainsplainsplainsplainsMOUNTAINS. The snowy peak of Mt. Fuji appeared so suddenly I don't think many of the passengers on the train actually realized it was there, or found it significantly less interesting than we did.

We then got on a train that took us around the mountain town of Hakone. Where there are no leaves on the trees but plenty of people milling around.

Charlie's ducklings have said it before and will say it again: We will follow him to the gates of Hell. And probably through them. So we trusted him and followed him wherever he went. Before we knew it we were being led onto a sky gondola (!) up one of the highest peaks in Japan, towards wedidntknowwhat. Charlie serenaded us with his majestic alto, and even played us a song on his recorder. Honestly, he could say "hello" and we would clap. After his mountain song he told us that if we were lucky, we might be able to see Mt. Fuji. The countdown to the crest of the mountain was more suspenseful and more exciting than that to the New Year. As we finally made it over the mountain, the white peak of Mt. Fuji appeared bright and beautiful in the clear blue sky. Immediately girls were on their feet, camera shutters going wild.

We then spent 30 minutes on the water, crossing the lake to the other side of town. There we met a woodworker who makes perhaps the most beautiful and useful pieces of wood any of us have ever seen. Most purchases made there today were gifts for loved ones and thus, cannot be shared to loved ones.

Wood craftsman in Hakone demonstrating intricate boxes.

Today was different than the other days we've spent in the Land of the Rising Sun.Where the days leading up have been in the concrete jungle of Asian New York City these next couple days of our journey are spent in what we southerners would call "The Boonies." When we first stepped off that bullet train the air was different. It was fresher, cleaner, and there was certainly less of it in the mountains. Mrs. Keen pointed out to me today that if we had spent any more time in Tokyo, we would have had great experiences that we could have also experienced in any major city in the United States. So here we are, city rats taking the countryside. Hakone is about the closest to roughing it that I've ever been - except when the Harpeth Hall soccer team spent a week at Samford and Sandy Dalton wasn't 15 minutes away and on call to bring sandwiches. I digress. The countryside of Japan is beautiful. The mountains are striking against what I can only call "mouthwash blue" sky, and everything feels different. As a resident of 12 South, I don't see much wilderness. So this one day of fresh air was one I'll remember. Particularly the moment that we crested the peak and we saw Mount Fuji staring back at us. It was one of those natureisreal moments. When you realize that you're very very small compared to this 12,365 ft. Volcano. You're younger than these mountains which are millions of years old and you will never live that long (although Gracie ate a lot of magic eggs so she just might make it.) The world is huge and we are tiny and sometimes we need to be reminded that college acceptance letters are not what makes the world go round, and this volcano is still considered active and could, in theory, destroy me at any second.

Today was more about the emotions than the history. It was more about the simple than the extravagant, and more about the journey than the destination. Stepping off of the concrete and onto the grass offered a new perspective. Not only of the beautiful island nation we're blessed to be exploring, but of the time we have left back in our beloved Nashville. I only hope I can carry these revelations with me on a 15 hour plane ride.

- Claire T 2015

Japanese word of the day: konderu (crowded)

It was bittersweet to leave Tokyo behind yesterday as we headed off on the bullet train toward the mountains of Hakone. While Tokyo had some amazing sights, navigating the most populous metropolitan area in the world (39 million) was overwhelming at times.

My favorite part of Tokyo was visiting the complex with Senso-ji Buddhist temple and Asakusa Shinto shrine. However many Japanese want to visit in January for good luck, and since it was the weekend, it felt like most of them were there with us! Despite the crowds we were all able to enjoy our free time there, and it was especially meaningful to be able to see these buildings as living, breathing religious centers and not simply tourist attractions.




Our two guides from Samurai Tours, Charlie and

Ogi, were champions at not only understanding the intricacies of the many subway lines of Tokyo, but also in keeping us in safe groups and teaching us to read the subway maps. To the right is Charlie explaining how to leave our hotel stop, Roppongi-Ichome, and make our way to our next stop. We had to form three groups because, on weekdays, the subways were jammed with people going to work and it was impossible for all 17 of us to fit into one car. We got to enjoy the sensation of being squashed like a can of sardines (or sushi) against each other. However it was not as awkward as I expected, as the regulars on the subway were experienced at maintaining their personal space, keeping their eyes on their phones or books and not intruding into the space of others. No one made phone calls on the subway and even conversation was rare, in order to avoid disrupting the harmony of the other passengers.

By our last day there even I was beginning to think, "Okay, maybe I could figure this out by myself if I had to." Below is a picture of Charlie on our last morning in Tokyo explaining the transfers we would have to make to travel from our hotel to Hakone. Mind you, once we got to Hakone we took an additional train, gondola, boat and bus before finally checking in to our hotel!

I'll never forget the image of Charlie with his little yellow flag extended up high so we can see it, and all the girls following him single-file like ducklings. I know the girls will never be able to think of Tokyo without remembering his calm, wise presence as well!

~ Susan Timmons

Sumo!!

None of us were quite sure what to expect as we followed Charlie faithfully to the Sumo Tournament hall. Would we like it? Would it be too strange -- too foreign -- for a group of young Americans to enjoy? My interest was peaked as we exited the subway it find the station decorated with huge portraits of the grand champions.

Portraits of Sumo's Grand Champions hang in the subway station

We even saw several sumo wrestlers coming to the station or getting into taxis. And yes, they were easy to spot, not only because of their towering size, but also because they were wearing traditional kimono and sandals. I was tempted to snap a quick picture but refrained because, well, they were huge, and slightly grumpy looking. Charlie explained that the matches last all day so these are the men who have already finished -- and quite possibly lost. Perhaps they will feel better seeing the sumo-themed candy (or cookies, or crackers, I couldn't tell) for sale at the station.

Eat enough of these and maybe you, too, can grow up big and strong like a sumo wrestler

The Sumo Tournament Hall, or Ryōgoku Kokugikan (両国国技館) was a suitably huge, ornate building that can hold up to 13,000 people. Once you find your seat, the atmosphere inside is surprisingly relaxed. People really do camp out all day. You can bring in food from outside and the chairs have little tables, so people were casually talking in groups while snacking. The lower level is even more family friendly, with seating on big red cushions (more about those cushions later) that can be reserved in groups.

The interior is impressive, again ringed with portraits of previous grand champions. A massive roof in the style of a Shinto shrine is suspended over the ring, with tassels on the corners to symbolize the four seasons. The official overseeing the match functioned like a referee but looked like a priest. Many other religious elements were at play, from the round raised circle similar to what we passed through at a Shinto shrine, clapping, rinsing of the mouth, wiping of the face, and throwing of salt into the ring before each match. Before the wrestling began, a circle of ornately dressed men with water and brooms carefully cleaned the ring to prepare it for the upcoming match. Although I didn't understand everything that was going on, it was absolutely fascinating.

Because each match was preceded by the wrestlers following many prescribed steps, it was interesting to observe when and why the crowd reacted. Because so many of the steps were identical, if there was even the slightest variation by one of the wrestlers, the onlookers immediately became fired up. If one wrestler raised his leg higher than the other during the iconic stretching, the crowd gasped. While most walked regally to accept their towel to wipe their face (one of the last steps before the wrestling started), if one hurried over, the crowd began to murmur - clearly this competitor was filled with fighting spirit! One time a wrestler performed a dramatic backward stretch and the crowd went wild! I found myself absorbing this attention to detail as well -- after one match the loser did not bow, but instead stormed off, and I found myself somewhat shocked by his breach of protocol!

When the matches began, everyone's attention was riveted to the ring. After a long buildup before every match, action would explode into a fury of pushing, grunting and cheering, often over in a few seconds.

The highlight of the evening was the very last match. Charlie explained that when a Grand Champion is fighting, he is expected to win. He may have a record of something like 50 wins in a row. However in the final match there was a dramatic upset and the challenger won. The crowd went truly wild, picking up their red seat cushions and throwing them into the ring! Charlie was super-excited. Although we were all too surprised to take a picture at this point, we got to see a new Grand Champion crowned right before our eyes. I can honestly say that sumo just gained 16 new fans that night.