Kyudou ga sukina no

I have been saying all along that I am participating in kyudou, or Japanese archery, here in Kyoto, but I have yet to show any evidence. Well, there may be no direct evidence here that I was present, but there is certainly evidence that I saw people practicing kyudou (thus the pictures). It is an amazing sport, as much spiritual as physical. There is certainly a great deal of technique to be learned, but there is also a mindset, and that is perhaps the reason this has been called a zen sport in the past. 

          The image above is of a pose in the "classical kyudou" style. I did not know there were two styles (I simply thought some of the more advanced students were, well, more advanced) until I was told when I asked to take pictures. If I was worried that my picture taking desires would be frowned upon, I could not have been more wrong. The moment I asked, they set up a demonstration, and sensei (teacher) sat next to me to say when I should snap photos (this is such and such pose, she would say). I have a hard time remembering what the pose are called even when I am doing them myself. 

I have a working theory that it is impossible to look uncool while shooting an arrow (unless, of course, you happen to fail in quite so epic a fashion as I did on my first shot - more on this later); I believe this image proves it. Notice he has shrugged out of the left sleeve of his kimono. That is the typical male fashion, I believe, while women who wear kimono while shooting tie their sleeves back instead. The male hakama is also different, and is tied in front. 

          These are, of course, the moto (targets) that one is supposed to hit. They are 150 m from the stage, if I remember correctly,and 15 m apart - it is very possible that I remember incorrectly. I will follow with some sentimental rambling about the nature of the kyudou club and what it has meant to me through my stay in Japan, so read on if you so desire, but consider yourself warned. 

           Perhaps most importantly, kyudou club has been one of the few places in Japan where I feel like I really belong - aside from the classroom and my host family, of course. It is easy to feel like a gaijin (foreigner) in Japan. In my case I have concluded that this is in part because I clearly look different, but in greater part because I understood only around half of what is said to me and closer to a tenth of the cultural concepts underlying Japanese life. In my kyudou club, though, before I am a foreigner, I am a student. If the rigorous traditions of the sport seem alien to me, they are strange to the Japanese students as well. Moreover, the more I see of those rigorous traditions the more I realize I am seeing an older framework on which the entire society appears to be based. One of the most interesting aspects of Japan is that there is a cultural framework old enough for that to be the case. I will also say that having the uniform means expressing a certain level of commitment, and by extension, truly entering the club. My education became the responsibility of all of that club's members at the moment I dawned my hakama, and so I was taught to bow properly, give greetings, excuse myself, and so forth. Interestingly, the deeper I delve into kyudou, the more life outside of the sport makes sense.

The structure of the club itself also uniquely gives it a special place in my life. It consists in large part of people older than me, middle aged or slightly older, with a few younger individuals who largely come in the evenings, and the sensei (teacher). Perhaps for this reason and since I inevitably know no one’s name, I am mostly called ojō-san, meaning young lady. Foreigners looking in on Japanese society tend to use the word “family” to describe the various social organizations, and I would apply the same word here without hesitation. We are in many ways a family. When I first wore my kyudou uniform, most people came to congratulate me on the fact that it suited me well. Afterwards, they would occasionally fix me if I came in with my collar mussed or some tie misplaced, and took great glee in telling me to bicycle home without changing because “all the young women in the club do it that way.” They still do. 

Moreover, their attitudes towards my quirks and successes are those of a family. The women titter when I put on my knee boots beneath my hakama, and everyone together finds their daily amusement in watching me drag five-minute conversations into thirty-minute ones due to a variety of comical misunderstandings. Everyone watched when I fired my first arrow at the outdoor targets, and everyone managed to somehow hold their laughter until I finished the entire ceremony after my arrow rebounded off of the roof nearly the entire 150 m back to the stage (I did say I would explain later, did I not?). Another day, sensei waited until practice was over to have me fire the final arrows before clean-up so that everyone could see how I had improved (or so I would surmise). I had no mishaps with the arrow this time, but firmly corrected myself when I began to leave the stage leading with my left rather than my right foot, much to the amusement of all of my observers. Finding that I had a tendency to stuff my clothes into a paper bag at the end of the day, sensei found me a suitable cloth to bundle them into. Indeed, whenever I lack something, someone tends to show up with it in hand, and even now I worry that she will next show up with a pair of traditional sandals (I insist on wearing flip-flops). 

Our typical kyudou practice is as follows - at the beginning and end of practice, we thank the sensei formally for her teachings, and greet each other. The less experienced students than watched the more experienced ones complete two ceremonial shots, at which point practice begins in earnest. This means exchanging gossip, and for many of the more experienced students, correcting my posture, the way I wear my clothing and associated kyudou accessories, etc. More than once, people have taken me aside to carefully explain what I am inevitably doing wrong. They have done this slowly, however, day by day, one mistake at a time, so that it has never been overwhelming. Everyone cleans up together at the end of the day. I frequently stayed late to practice afterward when I can, since the stage clears and the club quiets down as darkness falls. At that point, I can relax before heading home for the night, and the sound of snapping arrow strings and nighttime insects will forever color my thoughts of the long winter evenings in Japan. You can see the stage at night in this image. 

I would like to conclude with some advice, perhaps, to anyone else who thinks they might be interested in kyudou. There were a number of other American students present at the same time as me, and I have no doubt that they had equally wonderful and trying experiences within the club. I do not, however, believe that they had as much of a chance to become a part of it. They were too frequently together in a small group, too frequently speaking English, and too frequently too busy with classes to attend lessons. My advice is to throw yourself in head first. I, being the oddball that I am, wore my uniform to school, and even added a kimono beneath it just for fun. I was embarrassed and nervous at first, but I was also proud. Learning Kyudou has never just about learning to hit a target with a bow and arrow; rather, it has been about the form, the mindset, and the people whom I stood beside as I released my arrows. But really, you should also challenge the target, as you see in this image of the beginning of the classical style ceremony. 

Mushi wo tabete shimatta (to Uwajima)

Hisashiburi, as the Japanese say. It basically means, "gosh, it's been a while since we last saw each other." Anyway, I have decided today to discuss the long awaited topic of my short stay in Okeyama, along with a few choice bits from more recently. For example, today I ate a pickled silk worm from Korea while wearing my kimono Meiji style in a Japanese history classroom. I'm sure the locals get a surprise from me every other morning when I ride through on my bicycle in any number of things that look like cosplay on me, and I get a kick out of wearing this stuff. I'm getting better at putting my clothes on, too, which usually involves tying an awful lot of knots.

Anyway, During my stay in Okeyama, I traveled around to Hiroshima and Uwajima as well. The image above is of the Uwajima mountains as I came in by ferry. Above to the right is the entrance to the temple itself, which had flooded the day before - good thing I came when it was no longer closed. 

There was quite an impressive pagoda here, so I had to capture a classic shot. The image to the left is perhaps more meaningful, since it makes the pagoda appear just a bit more majestic. There were somewhere around fifty steps leading up to the temple near this particular pagoda, and I and my two temporary host brothers (5 and 7, I believe) ran up those steps without the slightest problem. Everyone else followed a bit later...

Back to Uwajima. So, this is the image of the famous tori, or gate, of the temple. It is several yards out at sea rather than actually opening directly onto the temple as would be normal. I don't understand the reason, and I don't think my host family understood either. I asked. 

 There also happened to be a wedding the day of my visit. Notice the beautiful bride in her white kimono, and the groom in his black kimono at her side. Apparently, her kimono is a modern, simpler version of the fancier old-style wedding kimono (the major difference is the hood, which here is relatively small and rounded), but I thought it looked fancy enough.

 The temple itself, as may have seemed likely by the extraordinary flooding I mentioned, is built directly over the water. In fact, from almost anywhere on the various walkways you can see numerous tiny crabs making their way across the rocks. They are well hidden by their coloration, however.

And a random show monkey. He knew a lot of tricks...Why was he there? Because there were tourists willing to pay to have their picture taken with him, that's why.

The deer here, as in all of Japan, are insane. They are about the size of a large dog, and most of the time will act like a large dog. They are constantly in search of food, and this one followed us for quite a distance before finally giving up. She tried to eat my maps first, until I wrestled them (wet and wrinkled) away from her. The children love the deer (all the posted signs say not to pet them, but who reads) and will walk along with their hands on the deer's backs. The deer don't seem to care. They're up for anything for a free meal. I definitely took my one chance and stroked this one's back myself...

Nara is famous for its deer more so than Uwajima, but since I haven't yet gone, I'll settle for these little guys.

Random dinosaur picture. This was at the kabuto museum I mentioned earlier, not in Uwajima. I feel random, so I placed it here to get it out of my head. I think it's cool, and so does my current host brother (he asked if it was real, and I told him no, more because I thought he should be afraid if he ever saw a real one than because I wanted to crush his young dreams). 

And this is the upalupa that lived as a pet in my temporary host family's house. He was so cute, and I loved playing with him (poo-chan). My Japanese professors all thought it was amazing that such a large upalupa existed when I described him in class. Maybe he grew so much because the 5-year old boy loves feeding him...

Gotta love these cute little guys.

And my friend in front of the mighty tori. Awesome shot. It totally says Japan. I wonder what sort of dance that kid in the background is doing.

Jaa ne (see you again soon).

Tokyo Disneyland (serious)

So, I will say this about Japan - no one here ever does anything halfway (please ignore the blatant points of exaggeration). I will also say that when Japan receives a holiday or concept from another country, they take it in its complete form, and in doing so tend not to end up with the hodge-podge of traditions or additions that said concept / holiday would have in its home country. Take, for example, Disneyland.

Now take, for example, Disneyland at Halloween.

Not only the front of the park, but also its many shops got a Halloween make-over.

As did its eating areas. For lunch, I partook of the mickey mouse shaped chicken, onion, and cheese (no mayonnaise, thank goodness!) pizza, and cream cheese stuffed pretzels.

I also happened to go on one of only 3 or 4 days of the year where people in costume were allowed to enter the park. Now, this is taken quite seriously here. Quite a few individual were dressed as Disney princesses, and quite a few as various characters from Monsters Inc (quite popular here, apparently). If you ask, they just might strike a pose for the camera, replete with gimmicks and props. Many cos-players had their pictures taken with the official Disney princesses as well - may I note, however, that these were played primarily by caucasians, so I know where to look for my next summer job. If these young girls look familiar, you probably also played with small soldiers as a child...

Yet other aspects of the park remained curiously unchanged, and even similar to their American counterparts.

This is the view of the enchanted castle from the international bazaar as you enter the park. Note that food and gift items here are all very reasonably priced, from my perspective. Disneyland for the people of Japan is a day trip, and although the American version can also be traversed in a day, I do not believe most people would view it as the kind of park you just decide to visit on a whim. That said, there were many parts of the park that were different, like the parade.

Take for example this innocent looking image. The people seated on the ground are having a picnic lunch. These picnics are quite an extraordinary thing, however. Right around snack time, you could walk through the park to find people beginning to lay out their picnic blankets one after another, side by side, in perfect lines spanning huge portions of the park. I do not have any clue how anyone knew where these lines were to begin or end, only that people lined up, single file, on their plastic "emergency blankets" and happily chowed down on obentou. 

On another note, yes, that is Stitch shaking his blue booty up there on a Halloween float. The dance he is doing is played to a mostly English Halloween song that seems to be the Halloween theme song for all of Japan. The most interesting part of the dance, however, is its relation to those perfectly straight lines of picnic goers I mentioned earlier. Periodically, Disney employees would come around and teach, with great ceremony, the Halloween song to everyone. When the parade came through, everyone danced...and if you did not, people tried to teach you the dance. It was really quite amusing. 

Familiar rides, like the Haunted House pictured above, were also dramatically different from their American counterparts. Perhaps in part because the Japanese culture is not one of frightening ghosts (ghosts are your deceased friends and family, so you should greet them with a smile, right?) the Haunted House is also anything but frightening. It is themed - this actually makes sense - on Disney's Nightmare before Christmas. While I knew some people who were disappointed by the change, I found it enjoyable. The ride was still breathtaking, and it felt like I was transported right into the popular video game, Kingdom Hearts...(should I admit that I love that game?). The familiar ghosts in a ballroom scene was also resplendent with a large Christmas tree and dining table!

The night then closed with the traditional festivities, like the Electrical Parade, which was again voiced entirely in English. I wonder how many people in the audience really understood. At any rate, thousands of twinkling lights only need so much explanation. Some of the displays, like the genie from Aladdin, were truly astounding in their complexity. Genie's color changed with every blink of the eye, from solid blue and red to tiger stripes, swirls, and even a swimming Nemo!

Tokyo Disneyland set up the daylight Halloween decorations to glow in the night as well, which I thoroughly enjoyed on the walk back to the exit after the parade.

And finally, the obligatory picture of the Enchanted Castle. Ah, it is truly glorious. The numerous cos-players and wonderful Disney music only made it better. I did not get the chance to visit the Japan exclusive DisneySea, but I still plan to!