May 04, 2008

Kujukuri (JAPAN)

A Shinto Ceremony for the Deceased (お塔婆), and (Stupidly) Going for a Swim

This morning I experienced a traditional Buddhist practice honoring the dead. The ceremony took place at a Buddhist temple near Kujukuri, and it marked the one-year anniversary of Kumagai-san's death (the husband of my home-stay mother). This was the primary purpose for visiting the beach house for the weekend. Also in attendance were Kumagai-san's sister, and his brother-in-law. We began by paying our respects at the funeral home, and then drove to the small temple, which is of the same order as Kumagai-san's family.

Having removed our shoes at the traditional sliding door, we kneeled down in front of the Buddhist priest who beat a drum while reading a hymn in the haze-filled room. It was a very spiritual event, but I initially understood very little of what was going on. At one point, I had to stand up, bow to the priest, bow to the other people present, and approach the main shrine where an incense candle was burning. I picked up a pinch of an ash-like substance and, head bowed, said a small prayer for Kumagai-san's health before returning to my kneeling position. (Although I was never fortunate enough to meet him, I have met many people who have - and they are unanimously in awe of all he accomplished and his remarkable personality.)

After the main part of the ceremony finished, the priest brought out six long sticks of wood (お塔婆, or otouba), resembling fence posts, which had a kind of poem written on them. There were four primary sticks that represented different aspects of Buddhism (truth, honor, etc), and two copies so there would be enough for Kumagai-san's family. The most important part of the sticks was the new name that is given to Kumagai-san for his next life, and this was determined by the priest at the temple.

When the hour-long ceremony finished, we had a chance to talk with the Buddhist priest, and he was happy to share his life story with us. Unbelievably, the story starts out when he was a college student studying mathematics, and then it took a strange turn: he was drafted into World War II and sent to China as a soldier in the Japanese Imperial Army. Even more unbelievable, he was captured by Chinese soldiers after the war, and was a prisoner-of-war for several years before being allowed to return to Japan. Upon returning, his life had obviously changed drastically, but the most dramatic transformation was the rapid deterioration of his father's health. His father was also a priest at this 260 year old temple in Kujukuri, and when he died all the locals petitioned him to take over his father's role as head of the temple. After lengthy consideration, he decided to do so, and studied to become a priest for 18 months at a famous temple in the Kansai region of Japan. Now, with a family of his own, he maintains the temple and teaches mathematics on the side to earn extra money for his family. Sadly, his son is not interested in taking over the temple when he dies, so even I was petitioned by the priest (half-jokingly) to do so.

Before returning to the beach house, we stopped at a fancy restaurant at the northern end of Kujukuri where Kumagai-san made reservations for us. We spent 20 minutes watching the dozens of surfers ride the waves off the coast before heading inside to escape the cold. The food itself was delicious - oysters cooked over coals, various sashimi, fresh fish, pickled vegetables, and so on.

We returned to the beach house by 2:30 pm, and I decided to do something infinitely stupid: go for a swim in the frigid and violent water off Japan's eastern coast. The air temperature was 11C today (52 Fahrenheit), but that neglects the strong winds that sweep across the beach and are strong enough to blow someone over - the next land mass I would hit is Canada, thousands of miles away. However, it was the water itself that nearly killed me: the currents come down from the North, and while all the surfers were wearing dry suits, I braved the 8C waters (45 Fahrenheit) with only my epidermis and board shorts.

(Left) There he goes... (Right) The waves are far more powerful than they look, and there is a wicked undercurrent. The man-made jetties (seen above) are designed to keep the sand from running out to sea.

(Left) Putting on a brave face... (Right) Emerging as the popsicle man.