Sorry for the gap in writing - I've been back home since Sunday, but between my painting course, work, and my newest sewing creation I haven't been able to conclude my adventures. So picking up where we left off, Sensei gave me some advice about things to see, and one of them was her friend, Ikuko. I was supposed to stay with her on Wednesday, but I screwed up the day (I was actually in Tokushima on Tuesday), and when I hadn't heard back from her that Tuesday would be okay I panicked and rented an AirBnb for the night instead. And after I clicked confirm, I noticed that my phone was blinking with a message. I felt like a complete idiot. But we made plans to meet up anyways and have dinner together.
Something you might realize about me if you've been following this blog for any length of time is that I'm a pretty solid introvert. I like people okay (most of th...sometimes...) but it takes me a while to warm up, especially if I'm talking to another introvert. Ikuko, on the other hand, is an extrovert, and she was so friendly and chatty that it was really easy to talk to her and her boys. When she picked me up at the train station she asked if I'd been to Ryozen-ji yet, and off we went to my first of the 88 temples.
One of the notable things about Shikoku is it has a special pilgrimage, the hachijuhakkusho-meguri. Most of the temples on the route were either restored or built by a monk known as Kobo Daishi - who just happened to also create the kana syllabary (aka, the way to read Japanese without learning thousands of characters) and founded the Shingon sect, Japan's take on esoteric Buddhism. In the old days, pilgrims would walk the route, but now most people take buses, as Ikuko said her colleague did (although, she explained, being a gaijin and one who enjoys his adult beverages, it still took him several years to actually make it to all 88).
When I originally read about the Shikoku pilgrimage, I thought, "That would be pretty cool. I could do it on a bike!" Maybe if I hadn't actually got a job this year I could have done it...but probably not. I think my days for that kind of adventure are long gone. But when she suggested we check out the first two - because Gokuraku-ji is very close to Ryozen-ji - I was happy that I'd at least get to start the route.
It was late, so we were the only visitors at the temples, and they were a little spooky, but also really beautiful. It seems like all the important temples in Japan are big and intimidating, but there was something about these quiet temples that was really approachable (of course, I might change my tune in the daylight if they were crowded with pilgrims...who knows). But exploring the temple grounds with Ikuko and her boys was really nice (bonus - when you're with little kids, you don't feel silly ringing the bell).
As Ikuko was driving me to Tokushima station later after dinner, she invited me to come back again to visit. I said I had to - I still had 86 temples left to visit! We laughed over the fact that I'd still probably get them finished sooner than her co-worker, and I said, "Oh, I think there are a few in Matsuyama - I might get another one or two in." And as it turned out, I did, although not in Matsuyama. After confirming that no, I would not be able to visit Nagoro on this trip (aka, another reason I have to come back to Shikoku), I took the next local train I could out.
Now, on a map, Matsuyama looks like a straight shot west from Miyoshi, but on the train you have to go up to the coast and then head south west. One of the issues I think Google maps was having directing me was the fact that most of the trains along the route don't go the whole route...unless you're on a limited express. Being determined that I was NOT going to do the limited express thing, I bought my first ticket as far as Tadotsu, and from there, got a train bound for Kan'onji. After I got on the second train, I started wondering if there was anything to do in Kan'onji - the name sounded like a temple, after all, and in fact Kan'on-ji turned out to be the 69th temple, so I decided that would be an excellent pit stop on my very long train trek. FYI - while I'd prefer to have my internet sorted out and have a real internet connection at home, the pocket router has proven to be pretty damn useful - I can't tell you how great it was to not have to go looking for a 7-Eleven or McDonald's to poach wifi.
One of the things I came to really appreciate in Shikoku is that it seemed like every station had lockers. I dumped my bag in one of them after making change in the adjacent coke machine, which poured fountain cup into a cup of pebble ice. (This is my new favorite thing, and I've been on the lookout since coming back for this kind of vending machine - while normally this coke connoisseur prefers cans, that is merely because five years in Mongolia have conditioned me to not expect fountain coke). Having done this, I set off in the direction of temples 68 and 69. 67 and 70 were close by as well, but Google maps wouldn't tell me where, and I decided not to be a glutton for punishment.
Along the way, I noticed a theme. There were posters and banners that featured that old-fashioned kind of golden coin with the square hole in the middle. Relying again on my pocket router, I looked up Kotohiki Koen, which seemed to be what the fuss was about. I was both shocked and delighted by what I discovered - there was a gigantic sand sculpture of a coin just on the other side of the hill from Jinne-in and Kan'on-ji. After visiting the temples, I hiked up the hill to take a look.
The Sand Dollar (get it?) was supposedly first constructed in 1633 to honor Daimyo Ikoma Takatoshi, who was visiting. According to the placard at the top of the hill, it was made in only one night, and twice a year volunteers help spruce it up, since even giant sand sculptures are no match for the wind and rain. It is said that anyone who looks at it will live a long, healthy life without money troubles, so hey - bonus!
Rather than going back the way I'd come, I decided to follow the path onward, assuming it would end up at the torii I'd passed on the way to Kan'on-ji. The gate apparently marked the entrance to Kotohikihachimangu, a Shinto shrine. I've done a little research about Japanese spiritual life as part of my process journal for my painting course, and I found it interesting that Shinto and Buddhism - two very different religions - have managed to coexist peacefully in Japan all this time. When I stop and think about the fact that Christianity, Judaism, and Islam are essentially THE SAME F*@($NG RELIGION and yet we STILL haven't figured out how to get along, it makes me never want to leave Japan.
This shrine seemed almost abandoned - there was a guy up there doing calisthenics, but otherwise, there was no other sound, as I checked out the emas - votive tablets you write your wishes on. I was checking out some of the really beautiful paintings that had been done on them when I became aware of a knocking sound. I followed it to the back of the temple grounds, and found myself in front of a small building, where it stopped. Part of me was tempted to poke around and find out what it was...the other part of me is whimsical enough to halfway believe that's a good way to fall into a well and end up back in the Sengoku Jidai...*
When I looked up Kan'onji at first, I also looked up the next seemingly major stop along the Yosan Line, Imabari. It also hosts a couple of the 88 temples, and I thought it would be another good opportunity to stretch my legs. However, when I got back to the station, the next local train went all the way to Matsuyama - I had just enough time to grab my bag and another of those fountain cokes before jumping on the train, and once I was settled, there was no way I was getting off. It trundled along the tracks, through tunnels, past villages and rice paddies, and I decided it was just as well that I was going to have to come back to visit Nagoro - I really loved the leisurely pace of taking the train around Shikoku. Although I may wait until I've left Japan and come back as a tourist so that I can do it with a JR pass instead of paying at each station...
*This is how a manga/anime called Inuyasha starts. It's one of my favorites, but involves more bug-type monsters than I'd like to deal with in real life, and is set in the very dangerous Warring States Period, so if I was going to get sucked into an alternate reality based on an anime I've watched, I wouldn't choose that one.
When I originally read about the Shikoku pilgrimage, I thought, "That would be pretty cool. I could do it on a bike!" Maybe if I hadn't actually got a job this year I could have done it...but probably not. I think my days for that kind of adventure are long gone. But when she suggested we check out the first two - because Gokuraku-ji is very close to Ryozen-ji - I was happy that I'd at least get to start the route.
It was late, so we were the only visitors at the temples, and they were a little spooky, but also really beautiful. It seems like all the important temples in Japan are big and intimidating, but there was something about these quiet temples that was really approachable (of course, I might change my tune in the daylight if they were crowded with pilgrims...who knows). But exploring the temple grounds with Ikuko and her boys was really nice (bonus - when you're with little kids, you don't feel silly ringing the bell).
As Ikuko was driving me to Tokushima station later after dinner, she invited me to come back again to visit. I said I had to - I still had 86 temples left to visit! We laughed over the fact that I'd still probably get them finished sooner than her co-worker, and I said, "Oh, I think there are a few in Matsuyama - I might get another one or two in." And as it turned out, I did, although not in Matsuyama. After confirming that no, I would not be able to visit Nagoro on this trip (aka, another reason I have to come back to Shikoku), I took the next local train I could out.
Rather than going back the way I'd come, I decided to follow the path onward, assuming it would end up at the torii I'd passed on the way to Kan'on-ji. The gate apparently marked the entrance to Kotohikihachimangu, a Shinto shrine. I've done a little research about Japanese spiritual life as part of my process journal for my painting course, and I found it interesting that Shinto and Buddhism - two very different religions - have managed to coexist peacefully in Japan all this time. When I stop and think about the fact that Christianity, Judaism, and Islam are essentially THE SAME F*@($NG RELIGION and yet we STILL haven't figured out how to get along, it makes me never want to leave Japan.
This shrine seemed almost abandoned - there was a guy up there doing calisthenics, but otherwise, there was no other sound, as I checked out the emas - votive tablets you write your wishes on. I was checking out some of the really beautiful paintings that had been done on them when I became aware of a knocking sound. I followed it to the back of the temple grounds, and found myself in front of a small building, where it stopped. Part of me was tempted to poke around and find out what it was...the other part of me is whimsical enough to halfway believe that's a good way to fall into a well and end up back in the Sengoku Jidai...*
*This is how a manga/anime called Inuyasha starts. It's one of my favorites, but involves more bug-type monsters than I'd like to deal with in real life, and is set in the very dangerous Warring States Period, so if I was going to get sucked into an alternate reality based on an anime I've watched, I wouldn't choose that one.
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