Chapter 4
Day 4
Kamakura - The home of Buddha Amida
July 2009
“Franz, and then… …There is Kamakura…”, “Is she an imaginary friend of yours?”, “Nooo! It’s a place, a town! Stop fooling around! Now listen: Kamakura is a city in the Kanagawa prefecture, about 50 Km far from Tokyo. Long time ago, and for just a couple of decades, the city has been the Capital of Japan, by that times the modern Tokyo was still a small fishermen village called Edo”, “Also the guy living in the end of the street is called Edo, did you know?...”, “Shush!… There is a theory on the name of the city, it sounds like the name Kamakura is the fusion of the words Kama, that means oven, and Kura, that means warehouse, as the city is surrounded on three of the four sides by the mountains, while in the front there is the sea, just like a oven or a warehouse that are open on the front. In 1200 the city was the fourth city with highest population in the whole world, in 1400 the city fell victim of a Tsunami that left many casualties and heavy damage. Also the main Buddhist temple was wiped away by the fury of the sea. When the water came back to the sea the only thing left of the temple was the mighty bronze statue of the Amida or Amithaba Buddha in the very same spot that she has ever been. Now the temple doesn’t exist anymore, and since that Tsunami, the Buddha statue was left in the open air in memory of that day… And then, there are many other temples… Just look at this map… What do you say, Franz?”, “I say that we have to go there, add her to the list!
August 2009
Our alarm clock called us back to the real world that was early morning. The city of Tokyo was already wide awake under a soon to be scorching sun. We packed our backpacks and got dressed in that tiny room. Most of the time we were hitting each-other or walking on the bed as we did our best on jamming with our backpacks, clothes and all the possible stuff those 50 cm broad walkway between the bed and the restroom door. We went to the ground floor and after a nice and huge breakfast, we left the hotel.
First we took a metro train of the Ginza Line down to Tokyo Central, and then, with a regular train, we left the centre of Tokyo, we crossed Yokohama, and we reached the small, cute, tidy and colourful Kamakura.
We went out of the train station and as soon as we stepped in Kamakura we felt that in our days probably the main income is from the tourism, both domestic and international. In fact, this is one of the preferred sea holiday spots for the people living in Tokyo and the surrounding areas.
We left the train station and we followed the crowd of local people that, passing under a Torii portal, were flowing to the inland. Here there was a monk with the typical hat that looks like a upside-down salad-bowl asking for some offer at the passers-by.
Soon we reached the famous Tsarugaoka Hachiman-Gu temple. This is a Shinto temple and it’s also one of the symbols of the city. This place is at walking distance from the station, but for those that don’t fancy such a walk under the mid-summer Japanese scorching already-highly-risen sun, there is plenty of human-dragged rickshaws. Many boys with shoes with separated toe and dressed in traditional way are happy to taxi the tourists all around.
“Franz, and then… …There is Kamakura…”, “Is she an imaginary friend of yours?”, “Nooo! It’s a place, a town! Stop fooling around! Now listen: Kamakura is a city in the Kanagawa prefecture, about 50 Km far from Tokyo. Long time ago, and for just a couple of decades, the city has been the Capital of Japan, by that times the modern Tokyo was still a small fishermen village called Edo”, “Also the guy living in the end of the street is called Edo, did you know?...”, “Shush!… There is a theory on the name of the city, it sounds like the name Kamakura is the fusion of the words Kama, that means oven, and Kura, that means warehouse, as the city is surrounded on three of the four sides by the mountains, while in the front there is the sea, just like a oven or a warehouse that are open on the front. In 1200 the city was the fourth city with highest population in the whole world, in 1400 the city fell victim of a Tsunami that left many casualties and heavy damage. Also the main Buddhist temple was wiped away by the fury of the sea. When the water came back to the sea the only thing left of the temple was the mighty bronze statue of the Amida or Amithaba Buddha in the very same spot that she has ever been. Now the temple doesn’t exist anymore, and since that Tsunami, the Buddha statue was left in the open air in memory of that day… And then, there are many other temples… Just look at this map… What do you say, Franz?”, “I say that we have to go there, add her to the list!
August 2009
Our alarm clock called us back to the real world that was early morning. The city of Tokyo was already wide awake under a soon to be scorching sun. We packed our backpacks and got dressed in that tiny room. Most of the time we were hitting each-other or walking on the bed as we did our best on jamming with our backpacks, clothes and all the possible stuff those 50 cm broad walkway between the bed and the restroom door. We went to the ground floor and after a nice and huge breakfast, we left the hotel.
First we took a metro train of the Ginza Line down to Tokyo Central, and then, with a regular train, we left the centre of Tokyo, we crossed Yokohama, and we reached the small, cute, tidy and colourful Kamakura.
We went out of the train station and as soon as we stepped in Kamakura we felt that in our days probably the main income is from the tourism, both domestic and international. In fact, this is one of the preferred sea holiday spots for the people living in Tokyo and the surrounding areas.
We left the train station and we followed the crowd of local people that, passing under a Torii portal, were flowing to the inland. Here there was a monk with the typical hat that looks like a upside-down salad-bowl asking for some offer at the passers-by.
Soon we reached the famous Tsarugaoka Hachiman-Gu temple. This is a Shinto temple and it’s also one of the symbols of the city. This place is at walking distance from the station, but for those that don’t fancy such a walk under the mid-summer Japanese scorching already-highly-risen sun, there is plenty of human-dragged rickshaws. Many boys with shoes with separated toe and dressed in traditional way are happy to taxi the tourists all around.
Tsarugaoka Hachiman-Gu Temple
The Tsarugaoka Hachiman-Gu Temple has a very beautiful garden with many beautiful spots. I reminded of the defensive walls of a castle. As the walls were used to keep the invading armies at bay, it looked that the monks designed such beautiful spots so me and Lula couldn’t ignore them and we couldn’t do anything else than contemplate those gorgeous places and picture them, by this way, they were keeping us at bay from troubling the same monks of the temple… As most of the Japanese gardens that we seen, everything is masterminded with a precision worth of a metre-maniac, topography-precision-addicted and obsessive-compulsive gardens architect. I wonder if there were monks that calculated even the perfect strength of the flow of the wind in a way to make the traditional flags to wave in optimal way. Being in Japan, I wouldn’t be surprised of that.
The core of the temple is made of a group of traditional buildings and these ones were the first ones that we seen by daylight (the Senso-Ji temple was the first one, but it was by night). The most scenic view is the one on top of a Temple stairway. When I was there at the foot of the stairway I found, finally, many monks doing monks-things all around and I pictured many of them, then, we went on top of the stairway and we pictured the temple ground and the temple staff form a reversed point of view.
The core of the temple is made of a group of traditional buildings and these ones were the first ones that we seen by daylight (the Senso-Ji temple was the first one, but it was by night). The most scenic view is the one on top of a Temple stairway. When I was there at the foot of the stairway I found, finally, many monks doing monks-things all around and I pictured many of them, then, we went on top of the stairway and we pictured the temple ground and the temple staff form a reversed point of view.
Zeniarai Benten Shrine - The Money Washing Shrine
After having visited the Tsarugaoka Hachiman-Gu we came back on our footsteps and following both our maps and the usually wrong information from the local people “Straight and to the left!”, we reached the Zeniarai Benten Shrine. To enter the temple, you’ve to go along a street that goes uphill and the enter a gallery on the left side of the street. We entered the fresh gallery and in the other end we found ourselves under a small series of Torii, on our sides were high humid cliffs. My first feelings were of a holy place much less touristic than the temple that we visited before. The air was soaked in nice smelling incense and, perhaps it was just by a chance, there were only few people around. This shrine is also known as the “Money Washing Shrine”. The reason of this name is that believers say that if people washes the money with the holy waters of the temple, they’ll receive the washed sum of money tenfold (or maybe one hundred fold). The temple had many colourful origami garlands hanging from the roofs and Japanese people kept on lighting incense sticks, turning the air into a perfumed cloud.
The Hike to Amida
One of the most important places in Kamakura is the famous Amida Buddha Statue. From the exit of the temple we tracked an alternative route that would take us hiking on the mountain where there should be a beautiful panorama and there should also be a Temple with many Kitsune (Fox-Spirit) Statues. It had been easy to spot the trail for this hiking and by this way we avoided the centre of the city. The trail was quite easy and from the mountain we could see the city below us up to the sea. The sun was high in the sky, the humidity was about the same high of the sun and the heat was very strong. Along the way we met many tourists, almost all were Asians. Along the way we missed the indication for the Kitsune Statues Temple, but the last part of the trail it was across a small forest and the hiking became easier and the air fresher.
The Statue of Amida
When we arrived in town, we found ourselves into a street that was going down to the sea. The street was flanked by many souvenir shops, most of whom, where selling objects portraying the famous Amida Statue, this was a clue that we were close to the Statue.
Along the street we found the entrance to the Temple grounds. I wondered if in an ancient past, in this place, rose a very huge, mighty, temple. I could imagine the pagoda rooftops with all the decorations, the wooden structure perhaps painted in red and a tidy entrance with monks and priestess. In the depth of the temple could have been a huge dome, lighted with candles, while streams of light painted glowing diagonal lines from the high windows, across the room, into the thick incense smoke. This huge room, this dome, was the place where you could meet the Amida, or Amithaba Statue. As you would approach at the statue, all around you would be echoing the chants of the monks and maybe also the Amida mantra. At this point, I guess, at that times, this would be the right moment to start praying and paying respect at this Buddha.
In our days, it’s all quite different. There is not anymore a temple, or let’s say, a big one. Now the Amida Statue sits in the middle of a square, a little higher than the one where you enter. The statue is huge and very, very, very beautiful. She looks like the Buddha Amida is just sitting there and peacefully meditating. The square is surrounded by low buildings, most of which housing shops with holy things and lucky charms.
I knew about the Buddha Amida for quite a long time and, for me, being there was a very strong emotion. I couldn’t stop staring at this statue. Being there meant so much for me. Looking at the peaceful expression on the Buddha face, I thought again at the fury of the Tsunami that obliterated the temple all around this statue in the far 1400s, it was scary the contraposition of the Tsunami fury against such a peaceful look of the Statue. Since that day, the statue was left outside both as a memorial of that day, and also to remember that the faith must be unmovable even facing such disasters.
Along the street we found the entrance to the Temple grounds. I wondered if in an ancient past, in this place, rose a very huge, mighty, temple. I could imagine the pagoda rooftops with all the decorations, the wooden structure perhaps painted in red and a tidy entrance with monks and priestess. In the depth of the temple could have been a huge dome, lighted with candles, while streams of light painted glowing diagonal lines from the high windows, across the room, into the thick incense smoke. This huge room, this dome, was the place where you could meet the Amida, or Amithaba Statue. As you would approach at the statue, all around you would be echoing the chants of the monks and maybe also the Amida mantra. At this point, I guess, at that times, this would be the right moment to start praying and paying respect at this Buddha.
In our days, it’s all quite different. There is not anymore a temple, or let’s say, a big one. Now the Amida Statue sits in the middle of a square, a little higher than the one where you enter. The statue is huge and very, very, very beautiful. She looks like the Buddha Amida is just sitting there and peacefully meditating. The square is surrounded by low buildings, most of which housing shops with holy things and lucky charms.
I knew about the Buddha Amida for quite a long time and, for me, being there was a very strong emotion. I couldn’t stop staring at this statue. Being there meant so much for me. Looking at the peaceful expression on the Buddha face, I thought again at the fury of the Tsunami that obliterated the temple all around this statue in the far 1400s, it was scary the contraposition of the Tsunami fury against such a peaceful look of the Statue. Since that day, the statue was left outside both as a memorial of that day, and also to remember that the faith must be unmovable even facing such disasters.
Amithaba Buddha
Amitābha or Amida is a celestial Buddha described in the scriptures of the Mahāyāna school of Buddhism. Amitābha is the principal buddha in the Pure Land sect, a branch of Buddhism practiced mainly in East Asia, while in Vajrayana Amitābha is known for his longevity attribute and the aggregate of distinguishing (recognition) and the deep awareness of individualities. According to these scriptures, Amitābha possesses infinite merits resulting from good deeds over countless past lives as a bodhisattva named Dharmakāra. "Amitābha" is translatable as "Infinite Light," hence Amitābha is often called "The Buddha of Infinite Light." Mantras Amitābha is the center of a number of mantras in Buddhist Vajrayana practices. The Sanskrit form of the mantra of Amitābha is ॐ अमिताभ ह्रीः (Devanagari: Ohm Amitābha Hrīh), which is pronounced in its Tibetan version as Om Ami Dewa Hri (Sanskrit: Ohm Amideva Hrīh). The Japanese Shingon Buddhist mantra is On Amirita Teizei Kara Un which represents the underlying Indic form Ohm Amita-Teje Hara Hūm. In addition to using the mantras listed above, many Buddhist schools invoke Amitābha's name in a practice known as Nianfo 念佛 in Chinese and Nembutsu in Japanese. Origin: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amitabha |
We spent a long time there, then, we said “See you again” to Lord Amida and we left the temple that was late afternoon. We wished to go to the beach still a couple of hours before coming back to Tokyo. The beach is nearby, about 500 m from the Amida Statue.
The Kamakura Sea
As soon as we reached the beach we took off our sweat-drenched clothes and hanged them to dry near our towels, then we jumped into the ocean. Just later, after being refreshed by the sea, we came back to our places and started to observe this part of Kamakura. The beach was made of black sand, which reminded the volcanic origin, and this turned the colour of sea in the same dark shade. All around of us there were families of Japanese people, and most of them were doing a strange habit. It looks like that Japanese people, mainly men, love to bury themselves into the sands. There were moments in which the beach looked like a cluster of small hills topped by people heads. Quite creepy indeed. After some time spent like that, Japanese people were used to stand up from their personal hill and run toward the sea and jump into the ocean like they had the hell in their pants.
The sea was a little rough and, as time passed, started to rise the tide. Along with the tide, came also Miss. Baywatch. She was a miniature of a lifeguard, but her tiny shape disguised her true nature of a cosmic-fury. Perhaps she’s the red hot-pants-wearing incarnation of a Kongōrikishi (see the description in the first chapter of this Diary). She appeared out of the thin air running down the beach. Of course, in those moments I wished to have one of those huge ‘80s ghetto-blaster (aka Boombox) to play the Baywatch soundtrack at full volume. She was wearing a red swimsuit, a red rescue can and a small but powerful-as-hell megaphone. She was about 40 Kg heavy when soaked in water, but like the overexcited little bit of uranium that could still cause a disaster, she was a step away from reaching her critical mass and end in a thermonuclear meltdown. Her one and only mission, her vocation and only obsession, was to force everyone out of the water, most of the times jumping herself in water and screaming her orders with all her lungs through the megaphone on steroids that thundered at few centimeters far from the faces of the people. It somehow reminded me a scene from the movie “Jaws”, and I was waiting that she’d take out of her red pants a huge gun and would start firing rounds all around. All this fury to get the people out of the water before the tides went up. Any shark would be scared of meeting such a lifeguard on his path… So, we were safe on that beach. I was starting to understand a thing. Japanese didn’t make up scenes for their comics. They were just drawing pieces of normal Japanese life. And, unsurprisingly, I liked this aspect of Japan. While watching Miss. Baywatch I asked to Lula what that Lifeguard would do if she seen a small jellyfish swimming peacefully in the sea? We wondered for a minute and then we imagined that she would start screaming to get out of the water, then she’d throw some torpedo in sea, she’d deploy electrified fences with a line of landmines around all the Japanese tourists that didn’t bury themselves yet. Never, ever, mess up with Miss. Baywatch.
We waited for the sun to set at west, while the eastern ocean in front of us became darker and darker under a cloudy sky. Above us the world of the clouds was being crossed only by few streaks of light, that, like bright blades, were falling down from the heaves crashing on the land and sea. I don’t know if the legend of the Coral Sword was real of made up for the movie “The Last Samurai”, but, if it was truly ancient, I guess that a scene like the one we had in front of us could have been the inspiration.
We went back to the station where we took the first train to Tokyo. We passed by Yokohama again, and she welcomed us with her bright neons and sparkling lights. Then we reached again the Tokyo Central Station and then our Asakusa.
The sea was a little rough and, as time passed, started to rise the tide. Along with the tide, came also Miss. Baywatch. She was a miniature of a lifeguard, but her tiny shape disguised her true nature of a cosmic-fury. Perhaps she’s the red hot-pants-wearing incarnation of a Kongōrikishi (see the description in the first chapter of this Diary). She appeared out of the thin air running down the beach. Of course, in those moments I wished to have one of those huge ‘80s ghetto-blaster (aka Boombox) to play the Baywatch soundtrack at full volume. She was wearing a red swimsuit, a red rescue can and a small but powerful-as-hell megaphone. She was about 40 Kg heavy when soaked in water, but like the overexcited little bit of uranium that could still cause a disaster, she was a step away from reaching her critical mass and end in a thermonuclear meltdown. Her one and only mission, her vocation and only obsession, was to force everyone out of the water, most of the times jumping herself in water and screaming her orders with all her lungs through the megaphone on steroids that thundered at few centimeters far from the faces of the people. It somehow reminded me a scene from the movie “Jaws”, and I was waiting that she’d take out of her red pants a huge gun and would start firing rounds all around. All this fury to get the people out of the water before the tides went up. Any shark would be scared of meeting such a lifeguard on his path… So, we were safe on that beach. I was starting to understand a thing. Japanese didn’t make up scenes for their comics. They were just drawing pieces of normal Japanese life. And, unsurprisingly, I liked this aspect of Japan. While watching Miss. Baywatch I asked to Lula what that Lifeguard would do if she seen a small jellyfish swimming peacefully in the sea? We wondered for a minute and then we imagined that she would start screaming to get out of the water, then she’d throw some torpedo in sea, she’d deploy electrified fences with a line of landmines around all the Japanese tourists that didn’t bury themselves yet. Never, ever, mess up with Miss. Baywatch.
We waited for the sun to set at west, while the eastern ocean in front of us became darker and darker under a cloudy sky. Above us the world of the clouds was being crossed only by few streaks of light, that, like bright blades, were falling down from the heaves crashing on the land and sea. I don’t know if the legend of the Coral Sword was real of made up for the movie “The Last Samurai”, but, if it was truly ancient, I guess that a scene like the one we had in front of us could have been the inspiration.
We went back to the station where we took the first train to Tokyo. We passed by Yokohama again, and she welcomed us with her bright neons and sparkling lights. Then we reached again the Tokyo Central Station and then our Asakusa.
Asakusa - Dinner at the Kaiten Sushi
We took a nice shower and later we left our hotel to go to the Senso-Ji area again. Here we found our dear Kaiten-Sushi and we decided to dine there again. The food was as delicious as the first time, but something happened that left us a little uncomfortable. In fact, a young couple was sitting next to us. While we were eating, the boy called a cook and asked him for something from the menu. The cook went to a water tank an took out a middle-sized fish that looked like a Snapper. He washed the fish and with a swift hit of his razor-sharp knife he sliced the fish in two. The fish was still alive, the head was still at her place and half body down to the tail was still attached, but it was missing of one of his sides back, from the neck down to the end of the tail. Of course, the guts were still at their place, to grant some minute in more of life and suffering at the poor animal. The cook worked the fish fillet into really thin stripes. The cook took the half fish, which was gasping for water, speared it in the tail and behind the neck in a way to make it stay still in a “U” position. Then the fish was placed into a dish with some salad leaf decoration and the meat stripes were placed back on the “U” fish, so the fish became the dish of his own meat. The couple picked some piece of meat with their chopsticks while the fish was still gasping for water. I wished to take those chopsticks and spear both the guys in their necks. It was a stupid essay of cruelty. At least, I hope that the couple got an Anisakis infection that nailed them in the toilet for the rest of the week.
After dinner we had a pleasant walk into the Senso-Ji temple again. That quiet spot at night was becoming one of my addictions.
Later came the time to go back to sleep, but only for few hours as that night would give us new emotions.
Japan is always unpredictable.
After dinner we had a pleasant walk into the Senso-Ji temple again. That quiet spot at night was becoming one of my addictions.
Later came the time to go back to sleep, but only for few hours as that night would give us new emotions.
Japan is always unpredictable.