The national holiday celebrating children and families

May 5th is Children’s Day in Japan, a national holiday with a long and amazing history.

The Five Festivals

Children’s Day is one of the five seasonal festivals, or go-sekku, brought to Japan from China in the 8th century. These five festivals marked the change of seasons and were days set aside to prepare for the coming months through purification, prayers, and banishment of misfortune. Still celebrated in Japan, they occur on odd-numbered days:

• 1/1 was eclipsed by New Year’s celebrations, so the seasonal holiday was moved to 1/7. It is called Jin-jitsu, Human Day, or Nanakusa-no-sekku, Seven Herbs Day, and is when a purifying rice gruel is eaten. 
• 3/3 Hina Matsuri, Girls’ Day
• 5/5 Tango-no-sekku, formerly Boys’ Day, now Children’s Day
• 7/7 Tanabata, The Star Festival
• 9/9 Kiku-no-sekku, The Chrysanthemum Festival

Precursors of Children’s Day

Children’s Day finds its antecedent in the Iris Festival, Shōbu-no-sekku, also called Tango-no-sekku.

In ancient China, the fifth lunar month was considered unlucky, especially the 5th day, which was called “Double Fifth.” On that day, people hung iris plants, mugwort, and garlic above the entranceways to their houses, believing that these plants would ward off natural disasters, illnesses, and evil spirits.

Centuries later, this custom was carried to Japan and came to include prayers for the upcoming rice planting season. Like the Chinese, the Japanese decorated their eaves with irises and mugwort to ward off misfortune.

As the years passed, new customs were added. People put iris leaves under their pillows to drive away evil and added finely chopped iris leaves to their sake.

Young girls would bathe in water with iris petals for purification. These girls, known as sa-otome, were central to Ta no Kami, or rice field god, festivals held on the day when the rice seedlings were transplanted into the flooded paddies.

These varied forms of purification are still practiced in some households today. Many onsens, or hot springs, across the country offer special Shōbu-no-yu baths with iris leaves on May 5th.

At the ancient imperial court in Nara, aristocratic women wore iris hair ornaments to a grand ceremony in the palace where the emperor would bestow a fragrant kusu-dama upon his vassals. This was an ornamental ball filled with medicinal herbs that opened in half when a string was pulled, dropping its contents. The herbs were for purification and to cast out evil spirits.

Samurai culture gives birth to Boys’ Day

Under the samurai rulers of the Kamakura era (1185–1333), the Iris Festival became Boys’ Day. Samurai focused on raising strong boys to become courageous warriors who would continue their family lines.

The word for iris, shōbu 菖蒲 is pronounced the same as shōbu 尚武, meaning valiant or warlike. That, and the fact that the hanging iris leaves resemble swords, is thought to have played a part in the change. 

Families visited shrines and gave offerings of armor, praying for the health and prosperity of all their sons, but most particularly, their heirs.

People began to decorate their houses with small displays of armor, helmets, swords, and arrows, symbolizing protection for their boys’ health. This custom continues to this day.

Carp streamers

During the Edo era (1603–1867), the practice of hanging koi-nobori, or windsock-like carp streamers, one for each boy in the family, began among the townspeople of Edo (Tokyo). 

Filled with strength, vitality, and adaptability, carp can survive in clear streams and muddy, in marshes and in lakes. They can persevere and struggle to swim upstream and even climb waterfalls. Koi-nobori streamers are hung with the prayer that a family’s sons will grow to be hardy, adaptable, and strong, like carp.

On the riverbanks of Edo, yet another custom began. Ishi-gasen, or stone-throwing fights, and it is exactly what it sounds like. This custom resulted in some serious injuries and even deaths among the young participants, so thankfully, the shogun soon outlawed it.

Children’s Day

In 1948, Boys’ Days was changed to Children’s Day and was christened as a day to celebrate not just children but to honor the family unit. In contrast to Girls’ Day on March 3, Children’s Day is a national holiday.

Celebratory Food

Grandparents and families gather on Children’s Day to eat a special meal, often featuring carp, rice cooked with adzuki beans, and seasonal vegetables.

Children’s day is known for two special types of sweets. Chimaki are rice dumplings wrapped in bamboo leaves, chi signifying cleverness. Kashiwa-mochi are sticky rice cakes — soft yet chewy — filled with sweet red bean paste wrapped in oak leaves. Oak leaves symbolize force, manliness, and endurance.

References:

図説民俗探訪事典 compiled by 大島 暁雄, http://www.ningyo-kyokai.or.jp/sekku/tango.html, https://www.nytimes.com/1991/05/01/garden/for-children-s-day-sweets-of-course.html, and more.

The post Children’s Day in Japan—Carp Streamers, Samurai, and Sweets first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

Mentor to Japan’s Meiji Restoration leaders

Hagi

The quietness of the fishing town of Hagi, in southwest Honshu, belies its illustrious past. Hagi is the birthplace of many of the men who laid the foundations for modern Japan and the location of the school that formed their ideas. Their teacher was Yoshida Shoin, and his brief but impactful life is inextricably tied to Hagi and his school, Shoka Sonjuku, “The School Under the Pines.” Among Yoshida’s students were greats of the Meiji government, including the military reformer Takasugi Shinsaku and Itō Hirobumi, Japan’s first prime minister.

Today, Hagi has been left behind in much of the modernization of Japan. An hour from the nearest airport or Shinkansen station, Hagi is a town of 42,000 residents, with a steady population decline of 1,000 annually for the past 15 years. Walking its quiet streets, one sees fishermen plying their nets and shops grilling freshly caught squid, occupations that have changed little since the days Yoshida Shoin walked these same streets.

Historical Overview

Built on a delta opening to the Sea of Japan, Hagi’s locale has made it an ideal home for fishermen for millennia. Records dating from the Muromachi period (1336–1573) tell of the Yoshimi, retainers of the Ouchi clan, building the first small fort in Hagi. Despite its early origins, the town remained quiet and secluded until the start of the Edo era (1603-1867).

The 15th and 16th centuries had witnessed a period of unprecedented internal strife, aptly called the Warring States Period. Daimyo fought daimyo for power and territory, and the nation descended into anarchy.

In 1543, Portuguese sailors stepped foot on a southern Japanese island, introducing guns to the country for the first time. Soon thereafter, the great warlord, Oda Nobunaga, using Portuguese matchlock shotguns, subdued one domain after another. Over 20 years, he succeeded in uniting much of the country—until he was betrayed by one of his own and driven to commit seppuku, the samurai’s ritual suicide.

One of Nobunaga’s generals, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, consolidated power and continued the work of unification by force. Before he succumbed to illness in 1598, he set up a Council of Five Elders to govern Japan until his five-year-old son was fit to rule. One of those elders was Tokugawa Ieyasu, a shrewd and intelligent warlord, to whom Hideyoshi had granted the backwater castle town of Edo (now Tokyo). 

Hideyoshi’s death created a power struggle between the five men of the Council, culminating in the epic Battle of Sekigahara. Western daimyos led by Ishida Mitsunari fought eastern daimyos led by Ieyasu, and after a brief, bloody battle, Ieyasu emerged as the victor. 

In 1603, Emperor Go-Yozei appointed Ieyasu as shogun, marking the inauguration of the Tokugawa shogunate and the Edo era.

The Mori clan and the Edo era (1603-1867)

During the late 16th century, daimyo Mori Terumoto commanded Japan’s finest navy and ruled over a domain encompassing all of western Honshu and part of northern Kyushu. Although not personally involved in the Battle of Sekigahara, he was aligned with the losing side. When Tokugawa Ieyasu became shogun, he ordered Mori Terumoto’s territory to be reduced by two-thirds. Ieyasu banished Terumoto to isolated Hagi, far from the Sanyodo highway that would allow him access to Kyoto and Edo. 

Hagi became the capital of Mori Terumoto’s Choshu domain. As a site for his castle, Terumoto chose Mount Shigetsu, a tied island connected to the mainland by a sandbank. Built on the 150-meter (492-foot) hilltop, his five-story castle must have commanded a magnificent view of the town and surrounding sea. Terumoto used the sea as a natural moat on three sides, one of just a handful of Japanese castles to use this defensive feature.

The Mori clan ruled over the Choshu domain for 250 years from luxurious residences in their castle compound. Throughout this era, Japan was all but closed to outside influence. From 1636, Japanese were prohibited from leaving the country. If they dared break that law, the penalty upon return was death. The Dutch were the only Westerners permitted to engage in tightly controlled trade, and they were confined to the tiny man-made island of Dejima in Nagasaki, on the southern island of Kyushu.

During this period of seclusion, the Tokugawa shoguns’ stringent rule enabled the country to flourish. Rice production increased, the literacy rate rose, and culture blossomed. Woodblock prints, kabuki, tea ceremony, and martial arts developed and became more refined. 

Only those of the samurai class were permitted to carry weapons. These regal samurai were easily distinguished by their chonmage topknots and two swords—one short, one long. Young samurai attended schools where they studied strict Confucian principles of duty and filial piety, martial arts, and poetry writing. 

Yet, as the decades of this self-imposed isolation passed, a desire and curiosity about the world beyond their border began to grow. In 1720, the 8th shogun, Tokugawa Yoshimune, eased the prohibition on the import and translation of foreign books. This led to the emergence of rangaku, or Dutch studies, where small pockets of scholars immersed themselves in these newly imported Dutch books. Guided by the slogan, “Eastern ethics with Western science,” these men absorbed knowledge of Western medicine, mathematics, and military science.

When Yoshida Shoin was born in 1830, Japan had been closed for 200 years. Rangaku intellectuals had influenced the scholarly samurai, who were coming to understand that more than their martial spirits and Confucian ethics were necessary for Japan to walk on equal footing with Western nations.

Yoshida Shoin

Yoshida Shoin, born Sugi Toranosuke, hailed from a low-ranking samurai family in Hagi. At the age of four, he was adopted by the Yoshida family, renowned for providing military instructors to the daimyo. Shoin was educated in military arts at the domain school in Hagi, Meirinkan, and later in Edo.

During the Tokugawa era, strict regulations governed travel, requiring individuals to obtain permission and official permits to journey beyond their clan’s territories. Violation of these rules could result in death. Nevertheless, when Yoshida Shoin returned to Hagi after his studies in Edo, he felt compelled to explore northeastern Japan.

At the end of 1851, Shoin took the daring step of leaving the Choshu domain without permission to travel throughout the country. This act of rebellion against his lord branded him a ronin, or masterless samurai. 

Upon his return to Hagi in 1854, Yoshida Shoin was spared from execution, much to his relief. Choshu was perhaps the most lenient domain towards ronin. However, Shoin was stripped of his samurai status and financial stipend and put under the guardianship of his father. Then, in a curious twist, he was granted the freedom to travel and study wherever he pleased for a decade. The following year, he again journeyed to Edo, arriving just in time to witness Commodore Perry’s menacing black ships enter Edo harbor.

Yoshida Shoin witnessed firsthand the impending crisis confronting Japan. No longer could the country cling to its feudal ways when faced with the formidable military prowess of foreign powers at its gates. Japan’s desperate need for Western technology was crystal clear. The weak and ineffectual shogunate must be overthrown to pave the way for change.

It was time for Yoshida Shoin to take a second daring step. He wanted—needed—to see the West.

Approaching Commodore Perry

While two of Commodore Perry’s officers were ashore one evening, they noticed a couple of well-dressed Japanese men following them. These men were Yoshida Shoin and his companion, Kaneko Shigenosuke.

Commodore Perry himself describes this event in his book, Narrative of the Expedition of an American Squadron to the China Seas and Japan, 1857.

Perry wrote,

The Japanese were observed to be men of some position and rank, as each wore the two swords characteristic of distinction, and were dressed in wide but short trousers of rich silk brocade. Their manners showed the usual courtly refinement of the better classes, but … they cast their eyes stealthily about, as if to assure themselves that none of their countrymen were at hand to observe their proceedings, and then, approaching one of the officers and pretending to admire his watch-chain, slipped within the breast of his coat a folded paper. They now significantly, with the finger upon the lips, entreated secrecy and rapidly made off.

The folded paper turned out to be a letter, written with the utmost respect and politeness. It read, in part:

Two scholars from Yedo, in Japan, present this letter for the inspection of the high officers and those who manage affairs. Our attainments are few and trifling, as we ourselves are small and unimportant, so that we are abashed in coming before you… We have, however, read in books, and learned a little by hearsay, what are the customs and education in Europe and America, and we have been for many years desirous of going over the five great continents, but the laws of our country in all maritime points are very strict…

We now secretly send you this private request, that you will take us onboard your ships as they go out to sea; we can thus visit around in the five great continents, even if we do, in this, slight the prohibitions of our own country… If this matter should become known, we should uselessly see ourselves pursued and brought back for immediate execution without fail.

That night, Yoshida Shoin and his companion got into a small boat and made their way to Perry’s ship. Perry’s description of the event continues,

Having reached [our ship] with some difficulty… They frankly confessed that their object was to be taken to the United States… They were educated men and wrote Mandarin Chinese with fluency and apparent elegance, and their manners were courteous and highly refined. The Commodore, on learning the purpose of their visit, sent word that he regretted that he was unable to receive them, as he would like very much to take some Japanese to America with him. He, however, was compelled to refuse them until they received permission from their government, for seeking which they would have ample opportunity, as the squadron would remain in the harbor of Shimoda for some time longer.

They were greatly disturbed by this answer of the Commodore and, declaring that if they returned to the land, they would lose their heads, earnestly implored to be allowed to remain. The prayer was firmly but kindly refused. A long discussion ensued, in the course of which they urged every possible argument in their favor and continued to appeal to the humanity of the Americans. A boat was now lowered, and after some mild resistance on their part to being sent off, they descended the gangway piteously deploring their fate.

Perry well knew that the men would be considered criminals under Japanese law. However, since this incident occurred immediately after Japan had been coerced into signing the treaty that opened the country, Perry was cautious about jeopardizing diplomatic relations by knowingly violating local laws.

When Shoin and Shigenosuke reached shore, they were promptly arrested and jailed. Ever the scholar, Shoin engaged with his fellow prisoners, identifying each man’s talents and enlisting them as instructors. One man taught Chinese philosophy, and another taught poetry. The respect shown to these prisoners by Shoin not only restored their pride but transformed the atmosphere in the prison. Before long, Shoin had arranged the release of many of these detainees. 

Shoka Sonjuku—“The School Under the Pines”

When Yoshida Shoin was released from jail, he took over his uncle’s small school in Hagi, the Shoka Sonjuku. He welcomed anyone who wanted to learn, regardless of status or class. After his imprisonment, Shoin was no longer free to travel, so he sent his students around the country to be his eyes and ears, while he put brush to paper and wrote extensive essays.

During these years, samurai and ronin united in their opposition to Commodore Perry’s gunboat diplomacy that forced Japan to open its doors. Their call-to-arms spread through the country, Sonno-joi, “Revere the emperor, expel the barbarians!” Yoshida’s Shoka Sonjuku became the heart and soul of this movement.

In addition to their scholarly studies, Shoin’s students and local farmers trained in close-order drills, using sticks as makeshift rifles. Under his influence, most of the over 50 students he taught in his less than three years at that school later threw themselves into loyalist activities.

Ii Naosuke becomes Tairo

In 1858, Ii Naosuke, the daimyo of Hikone, was made Tairo, honorary chief councilor, making him the most powerful man in the country after the shogun. Meanwhile, 134 kilometers (83 miles) south of Edo, the American diplomat Townsend Harris was pressuring the shogunate to ratify the Treaty of Amity and Commerce. Despite lacking the emperor’s authorization, Naosuke ordered this to be signed. Commonly referred to as the Harris Treaty, it imposed unfavorable exchange rates, deprived Japan of autonomy in setting tariffs, permitted the unrestricted free export of Japanese gold and silver, and granted foreigners exemption from Japanese law. 

Soon, Naosuke negotiated similar unequal treaties with the Dutch, the Russians, the British, and the French. Many sonno-joi activists fiercely opposed the autocratic reign of Ii Naosuke as Tairo and saw these treaties as a severe compromise of Japan’s sovereignty. Ronin and samurai across the country voiced their criticism and resorted to attacking shogunate officials and Westerners in protest.

In response, Naosuke fought back with the full force of his power against those who did not support his authority and foreign trade policies in what came to be called the Ansei Purge. Those who dared oppose him were subjected to imprisonment, torture, exile, or execution.

The first person Naosuke arrested was Umeda Unpin, a leader of the sonno-joi movement from Obama in present-day Fukui Prefecture. Unpin was taken from his home in Kyoto, caged, and carried to Edo. In Hagi, Yoshida Shoin’s plans and ideas to overthrow the shogunate had been deemed dangerous by the Choshu government, which led to his imprisonment. Unpin’s interrogators in Edo knew he had spent time in Hagi meeting with Shoin, and because of this, soon Shoin found himself confined in a cage and brought to Edo.

Leaving his beloved Hagi and passing along the portion of the Hagi Okan known as the Namida-Matsu, Pines of Tears, he composed a poem.

Certain, as I am, there shall be no return from this journey,
All the more do my tears wet this teary pine.

In prison in Edo, Yoshida Shōin was questioned about his discussions with Unpin. Seeing this as a good opportunity to voice his opinions on the shogunate, Shoin openly admitted his plan to assassinate Manabe Akikatsu, Ii Naosuke’s right-hand man. This confession sealed his fate. On November 21, 1859, at the age of 29, after politely thanking the prison attendant, Yoshida Shoin met his end with quiet dignity as the executioner’s blade fell.

Naosuke’s Ansei Purge killed not only Yoshida Shoin but claimed the lives of over 100 other influential figures. In its aftermath, Japan descended into chaos. Elements seeking revenge, particularly radicals from Choshu and sympathizers of the victims, launched widespread acts of terrorism. In 1860, as he passed through the Sakurada-mon gate of Edo Castle, Naosuke himself was assassinated by a band of samurai and ronin from the Mito domain.

Movement to Overthrow the Shogunate

In the following years, radical reformist activists emerged who pledged allegiance to the emperor. These shishi, or loyalists, sought to resist external pressure from foreign powers and to overturn the existing political system. Their sonno-joi cause, although still “revering the emperor,” adopted a new goal—tobaku, “overthrow the shogunate.” This idea again united samurai and ronin, and Yoshida Shoin was adopted as their spiritual leader and martyr for their cause.

Within a decade of Shoin’s untimely death, many of his students begame key figures in the tobaku movement. One disciple, Takasugi Shinsaku, created an entirely new army. For centuries, Japan’s military class had been composed exclusively of samurai. Takasugi turned this on its head by forming an army that included farmers, tradesmen, merchants, priests, and even sumo-wrestlers. Using surplus weapons from the American Civil War purchased through the Scottish merchant, Thomas Blake Glover in Nagasaki, they marched shoulder to shoulder with the samurai of Satsuma (Kagoshima) in a united front against the shogun. After several years, their combined forces successfully toppled the Tokugawa shogunate and restored power to the emperor in the Meiji Restoration of 1867.

Civilization and Enlightenment—the Meiji government

After the dust of the following Boshin Civil War (1868-1869) settled, many of the surviving students of Yoshida’s Sonjuku went on to hold prominent positions within the new government.

• Ito Hirobumi became the country’s first prime minister in 1885. He helped author the Meiji Constitution, was Home Minister, the first Resident-General of the Japanese Protectorate of Korea, and the prime minister on three more occasions.
• Kido Takayoshi was responsible for educating young Emperor Meiji, helped draft the Five Charter Oath, and was an advocate for the new constitution.
• Inoue Kaoru held many positions in the Meiji government—Vice Minister of Finance, Japan’s first Minister of Foreign Affairs, Minister of Agriculture and Commerce, Home Minister, and more.
• Yamagata Aritomo shaped Japan’s modern conscription army, held top positions in the military, was Japan’s third prime minister, and was twice President of the Privy Council.

During the early Meiji era (1868-1912), led by these and others who were influenced by Yoshida Shoin, a wave of modernization swept the country. This period witnessed significant advancements, including the introduction of compulsory education, the establishment of railroads and telegraphs, the development of textile mills, and the acquisition of mining equipment. A Western system of civil and criminal laws and a Western-style constitution established Japan as a constitutional monarchy. Japan enlisted the expertise of Western advisers to help modernize and advise in every aspect of nation-building.

Feudalism became a relic of the past. Castles were dismantled. Samurai cut off their topknots and gave up their swords. The class structure that kept the samurai at the top was done away with.

In their fervor for “civilization and enlightenment,” the Japanese set their sights on industrialization and colonization, achieving unprecedented results in a few short decades.

Emperor Meiji described the philosophy of this new era,

May our country,

Taking what is good,

And rejecting what is bad,

Be not inferior to any other.

By the time Emperor Meiji reached his sixth decade, Japan had established itself on the world stage. In 1905, British-educated Admiral Togo Heihachiro led his country to victory in the Russo-Japanese War, showing Japan to “be not inferior to any other.”

Although Yoshida Shoin did not live to see the remarkable changes in his country, his legacy lived on through his illustrious students and the forward-thinking government they created. 

In 1975, twenty-one years after the first Shinkansen plied the rails between Tokyo and Osaka, the San’yo Shinkansen tracks were built through Yamaguchi Prefecture, far to the east of the fishing town of Hagi, the quiet home of Yoshida Shoin’s grave. His former school, the Shoka Sonjuku, is now a museum to his memory.

The post Yoshida Shoin—19th Century Hero from the Tiny Town of Hagi first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

For centuries, daughters have been the focus of celebration on Hinamatsuri

One of the Five Seasonal Festivals

Hinamatsuri, the Dolls’ Festival, is a special Japanese day of celebration for girls in which elaborate sets of courtly dolls are displayed in all homes with daughters and in various public places. The day is also known as the Peach Festival and the Girls’ Festival. 

Hinamatsuri falls on the 3rd day of the 3rd month and is one of the five seasonal festivals, go-sekku. These were imported from Tang Dynasty China in the 8th century as days to banish misfortune and to wish for good luck and good health in the coming season.

Each of the five seasonal festivals falls on a lucky day — 1/1 (moved to 1/7 so as not to overlap with New Year’s Day), 3/3, 5/5, 7/7, and 9/9 according to the lunar calendar. With the adoption of the Gregorian calendar in 1872, these holidays were moved to Western dates that mirrored their former auspicious odd-numbered lunar months and days.

Heian Era Roots

During the Heian Era (794–1185), aristocratic children played with paper or straw dolls. Reflecting ancient Shinto thought, these dolls came to be used as vessels into which impurities were transferred. A springtime custom called nagashi-bina developed, in which dolls imbued with the children’s “sins” were placed in streams to wash out to sea, thereby purifying the children.

The third lunar month was when the peach trees blossomed. These delicate pink blossoms were thought to ward off evil spirits, and they have become an integral part of Hinamatsuri decorations.

Courtly Dolls

During the more than two centuries of peace during the Edo Era (1603–1867), the simple paper and straw dolls of the Heian children transformed into the elaborate and beautiful dolls we see today. These dolls embodied the Edo Era people’s image of the elegance and refinement of the Heian imperial court. 

Hina Doll sets originally contained only one male and one female, a Heian Era emperor and empress, which were to take upon themselves the impurities of the children. As the years passed, the number of dolls increased to include a complete royal retinue with all their accoutrements. 

The sets grew to occupy either 5 or 7 tiers. The dolls were displayed before and during the Hinamatsuri, with the prayer that they would bring good fortune and a happy marriage to the girls in the family.

Hina Dolls Today — What Is on Each Tier

Let’s take a look at a Hina Doll display. The photo above shows an elaborate, yet typical, traditional doll set.

Tier 1

The emperor and empress hold the place of honor seated in front of a gold folding screen. These dolls do not represent a specific royal couple, with the rare exception of some sets that were made in the late 1800s to represent Emperor Meiji and Empress Shōken.

As is the custom, the male doll is holding a shaku, or ritual baton. The female is holding a folding fan. They are flanked by two paper lanterns called bonbori.

Between them are vases of miniature peach branches, a decoration called sanbō kazari, which one imagines was given as an offering to the couple.

The male on the left signifies that this set is a Tokyo style set. Those of the Kyoto style have the male on the right.

Tier 2

Three ladies-in-waiting occupy the second tier, ready at a moment’s notice to pour sake for the happy couple. 

Separating the ladies are two tables holding pink and white mochi — pounded sticky rice cakes. 

The colors pink and white are often used for celebratory events. White symbolizes long life and fertility, and red or pink is traditionally used to ward off evil.

Tier 3

Musicians wait upon this level, ready to entertain the royal couple. Four men hold instruments — a flute and three different types of drums — and the singer holds a fan.

Tier 4

On this tier we have the highest ranking aristocrat, the elderly Minister of the Left, and the next highest ranking, the younger Minister of the Right.

Between the men are tables to hold festive foods and diamond-shaped tables holding diamond-shaped sweets called hishi-mochi, a specialty reserved for Hinamatsuri. 

Hishi-mochi are layered mochi cakes in pink and white, with a green layer added to represent good health, and in some areas, a yellow level symbolizing nanohana flowers, some of the first to bloom in spring.

Tier 5

Upon this level sit three guards or helpers, each with an interesting name: the quarrelsome drinker, the maudlin drinker, and the merry drinker.

True to the actual trees in the royal palace in Heian, there is a tachibana orange tree on the western side and a cherry blossom tree on the eastern side.

Tier 6

Here you will find items one needs inside the house — tiny dressers, long chests for kimono storage, chests for clothing, mirror stands, hibachi braziers, boxes of tea ceremony utensils, and even a sewing box.

Tier 7

Finally, we have things the couple would need for traveling — a palanquin in which to be carried, nested boxes for food, and an oxcart for the many chests of clothing. 

About Hina Dolls

Classic Hina dolls are still made in the traditional way. Starting with a wood, straw, and paper base, the dolls are clothed in many layers of silk, stuffed with cotton to create the form, and finally finished with a delicate face carved from wood and covered with gofun, a layer of ground oyster shell and glue to give the face a pure white finish. Long hair made from silk or real hair is attached and styled in the ancient Heian fashion.

Hina dolls and their furnishings are very costly works of fine craftsmanship. Just one doll can take up to six months to create. Some sets are considered family heirlooms and are passed down from mother to daughter through generations.

The dolls can be displayed from the first day of spring  —  the day after the demons have been vanquished on Setsubun  —  and enjoyed throughout the month and on Hinamatsuri at the beginning of March. 

Women are admonished to put all the dolls away the day after Hinamatsuri. Failing to do so was believed to result in a daughter marrying late.

Hinamatsuri Food and Drink

What would a Japanese holiday be without special food? Here are a few of the celebratory foods for Hinamatsuri.

• Hina arare — crunchy, colored, rice cracker balls.
• Hishi mochi — multi colored mochi cakes stacked in diamond shapes. The diamond shape is also considered lucky.
• Ichigo daifuku — strawberries covered in sweet azuki bean paste and mochi — have recently joined the ranks of Hinamatsuri treats.
• Sakura mochi — azuki bean paste filled pink mochi cakes, wrapped in edible cherry blossom leaves.
• Ushio jiru — a clear soup made from hamaguri clams. As clams have two connected shells, they signify the wish for a happy marriage.
• Chirashi zushi — sushi rice into which is mixed, for example, simmered carrots, mushrooms, and lotus root, then topped with shrimp and/or sashimi, egg, and nanohana florets. Probably every cook makes it differently, while sticking to the pink, white, green, and yellow motif.
• Ama zake — sweet, thick beverage made from rice koji, the fermented rice used to make sake and miso paste. It is non-alcoholic and is considered healthy.
• White sake — strong, sweet sake with a cloudy white color.

In recent years, people have started to forgo traditional sweets in favor of beautiful, store-bought cakes, but no one with daughters will ever forgo celebrating Hinamatsuri.

The post Hinamatsuri—A Joyous Day for Girls in Japan first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

Ordered by my daughter at a Japanese restaurant

I realize that “strangest food” is subjective, so some of these may not be so strange to you. Nevertheless, allow me to share a few of my stand-outs.

A couple of years ago, I wrote that a rural Japanese innkeeper had served me the most exotic food I have ever eaten. That was true, but life and meals moved on, and now it’s time for an update.

Whale

In my other article, I neglected to mention whale. Yes, I have eaten whale both raw and cooked. It was even served to my children in their school lunches once a year.

School lunches are considered a part of the children’s education. There is an emphasis on eating a variety of foods with a balanced nutritional content. Once a year or so, they serve traditional foods to continue awareness. Whale was one of those.

Anyway, whale is easy to find at fish markets. Some cuts are intended to be eaten raw and others to be cooked, its fat is used to create an umami-filled broth, and even its intestines are sliced and eaten — see the circular items pictured below. Nothing goes to waste.

Speaking of whale, my daughter was gifted rice crackers, some flavored with whale, some with octopus, and some with blowfish—another delicacy in Japan that I’ve eaten both cooked and raw.

But still, these foods are not that strange, nor is my next offering.

Yuba

If you have visited Kyoto, perhaps you’ve had macha (green tea) noodles with yuba. 

Yuba is a food that developed as part of shojin-ryori, Buddhist vegetarian cuisine. It is the film that forms when soy milk is boiled. It’s gently lifted off and used in many creative ways. Its subtle flavor makes it versatile, and it’s hard to miss if you’re in Kyoto, Nikkō, or Mount Kōya.

Fermented mackerel

Now we start to veer into the exotic with fermented mackerel, called heshiko. Its production is limited to a small village in Fukui Prefecture. Heshiko is centuries old, developed to be sent on the backs of porters to Kyoto and Nara. 

Mackerel caught in Wakasa Bay is cleaned, then packed in salt and rice bran and left to ferment for six months or more. 

Heshiko is so interesting it deserves its own article. More on that later.

Monkfish liver

Monkfish are odd-looking creatures. I did not know that one could eat their livers, but having done so, I do now. 

Tasty, but not something I would go out of my way to seek out.

Wasabi ice cream

We usually think of wasabi as a condiment for sushi, sashimi, or soba, but it can be used for other things, too, like ice cream. But it must be fresh, which is completely different than the imitation wasabi made from horseradish that is sold in tubes in supermarkets.

I have had it a few times, and it’s both mildly hot and sweet. Try it, if you get a chance.

Now on to the winner of this article’s strangest food.

The strangest food

This exotic food appeared on my stage last month.

It all started when my eldest son decided to fly across the globe to visit his mother in rural Japan. One whim led to another, and one day my son, one of my daughters who was also visiting, and I, found ourselves exploring a shrine to none other than Ninigi-no-Mikoto, the grandson of the Sun Goddess, Amaterasu Omikami, from whom all Japanese emperors descended.

Japanese shrines are usually at the top of long staircases, and this was no exception. We were starting to feel a bit peckish.

Google Maps led us to a nearby restaurant. It was closed. A very eager-to-help woman in the parking lot drew us a map to a chain sushi restaurant, but on the way, I wanted to check out a small one.

It looked good. Old. Traditional building. We went in.

Gold and uni

Oh, but wait! I completely forgot about gold leaf! I’ve eaten that numerous times.

And uni? Uni is sea urchin. But not all of the sea urchin — only the gonads are served in Japanese restaurants and called uni.

So there’s that, too. Sea urchin gonads.

Back to the restaurant.

As we walked in, my daughter got all excited by one of the dishes listed in Japanese on the wall behind the counter.

“It’s seasonal, and they only make it this way in Kagoshima!” she enthused.

She ordered it. My son and I — not quite as “Japanese” as my red-haired and freckled daughter — didn’t pay much attention.

We ordered sushi sets, which were fresh and delicious and came with miso soup and chawan mushi, small cups of savory egg custard.

Then the dish my daughter ordered was served.

Tempura, my favorite! 

It looked delicious. But what could it be?

Cod semen

It was fish semen tempura. 

My daughter ate with gusto, and she was nice enough to share some with her brother and me.

I dare say, tempura is must be better than how it’s usually served.

Boiled, with ponzu—citrus soy sauce.

Yum.

What strange or exotic food have you eaten, that you actually liked?

The post More Exotic than Crickets — the Strangest Food I’ve Ever Eaten first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

From the creation of Honshu to Magatama jewels

On the far western edge of Niigata Prefecture sits the quiet city of Itoigawa. With a population of just over 40,000, it’s hard to believe it was once the bustling center of a thriving jade trade. That trade has long since vanished, yet diligent beachcombers can still find jade pieces along Itoigawa’s pebble shores.

The same tectonic upheavals that separated Japan from the Asian mainland, created the Fossa Magna, and uplifted the Japanese Alps also brought jade to the surface at Itoigawa from where it had been formed deep within the bowels of the earth 500 million years ago.

Before we get into the jade, let me explain a bit about the geology of Japan.

The Fossa Magna

Among the many Western advisors and teachers invited to Japan to assist in its modernization during the Meiji period (1868–1912) was the German geologist Heinrich Edmund Naumann.

In addition to his teaching position at Kaisei Gakkō, the forerunner to Tokyo Imperial University, Naumann set out to create a geological map of Japan. With train travel in its infancy, Naumann carried out his surveys on foot or horseback, traveling over 10,000 kilometers in his quest to draw an accurate topographical map.

During his explorations, Naumann’s observations of a low-lying crevasse that divides the Echigo Mountains from the Northern Alps led to his discovery of a wide rift that bisects the island of Honshu, dividing it between its eastern and western halves. He named this rift the Fossa Magna, Latin for “Great Crevasse.”

The Fossa Magna is a U-shaped rift, 6,000 meters deep, situated between two major fault lines. On the western side lies the Itoigawa-Shizuoka Tectonic line, running north to south and roughly following the course of the Himekawa River. The eastern side is marked by the Tanakura Tectonic Line. The Median Tectonic Line, the longest fault line in Japan that runs the length of Honshu, crosses the Fossa Magna in its center.

About 19–15 million years ago, the movement of tectonic plates resulted in significant geological upheavals in East Asia. The Philippine plate subducted beneath the Eurasian plate, while the Pacific plate subducted beneath the North American plate. These events caused the breaking off of a land mass from the southern coast of the Eurasian continent. 

As the land separated, the western section rotated clockwise by 40–50 degrees, and the eastern section rotated 40–50 degrees counterclockwise, forming the bent shape of what would become Honshu Island. The gap that opened between these halves formed the Fossa Magna. The region separating the land masses and the continent eventually evolved into the Sea of Japan.

Over time, the depression that would become the Sea of Japan gradually filled with water, initially forming a freshwater lake, as evidenced by fossils of freshwater fish and insects. Eventually, the lake expanded and connected with the ocean, transforming into the Sea of Japan.

Seawater also rushed into the Fossa Magna, creating the Fossa Magna Straight. Today, fossils of herring, sea bass, and even whales can be found in the Fossa Magna. Subsequent earthquakes triggered volcanic eruptions and underwater landslides, depositing alternating layers of sandstone and mudstone on the bed of the Fossa Magna Strait, gradually filling it and displacing the seawater.

Approximately 3 million years ago, the North American and the Eurasian plates collided along the Itoigawa-Shizuoka Tectonic line, uniting the land masses into the island of Honshu and uplifting the Japanese Alps. The junction where these two plates meet forms the western boundary of the Fossa Magna.

Around 1 million years ago, magma pushing up through the Fossa Magna erupted and, over time, shaped the volcanoes we see today — Mount Fuji, Mount Yatsugatake, Mount Yakeyama, and others.

Despite the presence of these and many other volcanoes, over half of all the mountains in Japan — that cover a staggering 73% of the country — are primarily composed of sedimentary rather than volcanic rock. 

As plates collided and subducted, coral reefs and seafloor sediment were uplifted onto the continental edge. The results of this upheaval are easily seen today in the fossil-rich limestone deposits and seashells that grace mountaintops and plateaus across Honshu, from the Akiyoshidai plateau of Yamaguchi to the 1,188-meter-high Mount Myojo in Itoigawa.

The geological processes that shaped Japan’s magnificent landscape also played a pivotal role in the development of the world’s oldest Jade culture, centered in the small coastal city of Itoigawa.

Itoigawa’s Jade

Jade, most often associated with its green color, is actually white in its pure form. The vibrant and varied hues of jade — green, lavender, blue, and black — result from impurities present in the mineral. Brilliant green jade gets its color from iron and chrome impurities, while titanium and manganese create a light purple color known as lavender jade. The combination of iron and titanium gives jade a rich blue shade. This wide range of colors adds to the allure of this durable gemstone.

A poem recorded in the Manyoshu, Collection of Ten Thousand Leaves, the oldest anthology in Japan, refers to jade stones from Itoigawa. This historical mention was all but forgotten until 1939 when jade was found beneath the clear waters of the Kotaki River in Itoigawa.

Archeologists have since discovered jade artifacts from Itoigawa all across Japan, indicating a widespread trade network that flourished from 1,500 BC through the 5th century. Ancient people likely traveled along the coasts in their dugout canoes, engaging in trade that included jade from Itoigawa, obsidian from northwestern Kyushu, shells and shell accessories from the Ryukyu Islands, and other goods. 

Itoigawa jade artifacts have been found in graves and settlement sites from Hokkaido in the northeast to the distant islands of Okinawa in the southwest. Itoigawa jade has even been found on the Korean peninsula, carried by intrepid traders navigating their dugout canoes on the sea between Kyushu and Korea.

The archaeological discoveries in Itoigawa and throughout Japan and Korea have yielded various jade artifacts, including beads for necklaces and bracelets, pendants, comma-shaped magatama, raw stones, and numerous fragments. Many of these jade pieces exhibit shallow indentations instead of holes. This variation in craftsmanship reflects the different techniques artisans used in each area.

In Itoigawa, artisans used quartz sand to drill holes in the jade, skillfully working with the hard material. On the other hand, artisans in the southern islands attempted to apply the same methods they used for working with the much softer substance of shells. Their not-so-skillful efforts resulted in frequent breakage and incomplete jade pieces.

Although jade was much sought-after for centuries, by the mid-500s AD, a change occurred in Japanese fashion trends. Accessorizing with jewelry created from exotic shells from Ryukyu and prized jade from Itoigawa declined in popularity. In its place, perhaps influenced by the influx of knowledge and technology from China, a new preference emerged for the continental style of wearing gilt bronze bracelets and necklaces.

Interestingly, no accessories at all have been found in graves or excavations from the 8th century onwards, suggesting that the wealthy turned their attention to elaborate kimonos rather than jewelry. However, beads continued to adorn Buddhist statues, particularly those of Kannon, the bodhisattva of mercy.

Among all the jade jewelry worn in ancient times, though, comma-shaped magatama beads and pendants seem to have been especially prized. One such magatama, the Yasakani no Magatama, is counted among Japan’s Three Imperial Treasures, alongside the Kusanagi no Tsurugi sword and the most precious, Yata no Kagami mirror.

To understand these sacred treasures and their importance to Japanese history and culture, I invite you to read this story from Japan’s most ancient chronicle, the Kojiki. 

The post Itoigawa — The Forgotten City of Jade first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

Exploring culinary traditions in Izu and Kochi

While hiking in the Izu Peninsula of Shizuoka, I was lucky enough to visit an unusual shop. Tucked away up a hill in rural Tago, on the western coast, Kanesa Katsuobushi sells bonito. But not just any bonito, they are among a handful of shops that still preserve the fish using the most ancient of methods.

Bonito, sometimes called skipjack tuna, has been a dietary staple in Japan for millennia, evident from the discovery of its bones in Jomon-era (14,000–300 BC) shell middens. And if you’ve ever eaten Japanese food, you’ve likely eaten bonito. It is the foundation of dashi broth, an indispensable ingredient in Japanese cuisine. You might have even seen fish flakes, shaved from dried bonito, dance like an apparition atop tofu, rice, and other dishes.

Katsuo, the Japanese word for bonito, can also be read as “a man who wins,” giving it a favorable connotation. Similarly, the association between the celebratory dish sea bream, called tai, and something happy and auspicious — known as mede-tai — shows how symbolism may contribute to a dish’s enduring popularity.

Because bonito is a seasonal fish, ancient people devised creative ways to preserve it. The earliest documented technique is shiokatsuo, salted and dried bonito, sent from the Izu peninsula as a gift to the Imperial Court during the Nara era (710–794). That is Kanesa Katsuo’s specialty.

To make shiokatsuo, bonito are cleaned and then soaked for 10–12 days in a solution of sea salt and fresh water, drawn from a deep well. After this, the fish are hung in the shade for three weeks, allowing the wind to dry them.

The drying not only preserves but also ferments and ages the fish, concentrating its flavor — not unlike the process used in creating dry-cured ham.

Centuries ago, owners of bonito fishing boats on the western coast of Izu began offering shiokatsuo to Shinto shrines for purification, then serving it to their crews to celebrate the New Year. It was given both as a prayer for bountiful catches and as a guarantee of employment throughout the coming year. If a crew member was not given that gift, he knew he was out of a job.

As part of Shogatsu, or New Year’s celebration, people around Japan place kagami mochi, “mirror rice cakes,” on their house altars to welcome the god of the New Year. Not so in western Izu. Through the centuries, the custom of fishing boat owners offering shiokatsuo morphed into a unique tradition. Here, every household offers a shiokatsuo on their Shinto altar for blessings in the New Year. 

This New Year’s tradition has kept alive this ancient method of preserving bonito . Each year in November, the Kanesa shop produces 400–500 shiokatsuo to be used as New Year’s offerings — called shogatsu-yo. And each year, they quickly sell out.

Kanesa Katsuo’s main product, though, is the most common form of bonito eaten in Japan — katsuobushi. Originating in the 17th century, this rocklike preserved fish is flaked and used as a topping for various dishes and is a key ingredient in dashi broth.

Known as the hardest food in the world, katsuobushi takes six months to prepare. First, the bonito is filleted, deboned, and cleaned before being boiled and left to dry on racks in a hot oven. Then the dried fillets are coated with koji mold — the same koji used in the production of sake, miso, and soy sauce — and left to mature for about four months. 

This process results in blocks of preserved fish that will later be shaved into “fish flakes.” Special heavy-duty planes are needed for shaving the rock-hard katsuobushi. Your mandoline slicer just won’t do. 

Bonito in Kochi

Each year, bonito migrate from the warm waters of southern Okinawa Prefecture along the eastern coasts of Kyushu, Shikoku, and Honshu.

To avail themselves of this bounty of the sea, fishermen in Kochi city on Shikoku island have long used a 400-year-old traditional method called ipponzuri, catching the bonito with a fishing pole. The fishermen first lure a school of these torpedo-shaped, silver-blue fish into a concentrated area and then catch them one by one. A single fish can weigh as much as 5 kilos (11 pounds).

Although fishing using large nets would be easier, this method is avoided to prevent damage to the fish and the unintentional capture of other species.

Seasonal treasures

Bonito are primarily harvested twice a year: from March to May in spring and from September to November in fall. The fish caught during these periods are renowned for their differing yet exceptional flavors.

In the early 17th century, the great haiku poet Yamaguchi Sodo extolled,

The poet was expressing his delight at the harbingers of warmer months — one of which was the first bonito of the season. 

Riding the warm Kuroshio current up from the south, these Hatsukatsuo, first bonito, or Noborikatsuo, up-bound bonito, caught between March and May were historically so valued that they were considered almost worth “pawning your wife and children” to obtain. Celebrated for their mild flavor and lower fat content, these fish are said to be best served as katsuo no tataki, or seared bonito.

Those caught from September to November are Modorikatsuo, returning bonito, or Kudarikatsuo, going back bonito. These fish have eaten heartily during their southward migration, resulting in a higher fat content that contributes to a more delicate taste and texture, making it an excellent choice for sashimi.

Kochi is also famous for its himodori katsuo — bonito eaten the same day it is caught — prized for its luxurious freshness.

Bonito is by far the most popular fish in Kochi, particularly Kochi City, where households consume an average of 5,163 grams (11 pounds, 6 ounces) per year — far more than any other city in Japan. This consumption has fostered a wide array of cooking styles.

How bonito is eaten

Aside from katsuobushi, sashimi is widely popular. But in Kochi, bonito sashimi takes a backseat to the local specialty, katsuo no tataki. 

To prepare this delicacy, the bonito is cleaned and filleted, and all bones are carefully removed. The resulting quarters of the fish are skewered and held over a fire of rice straw until the outside is seared. This rapid grilling eliminates excess moisture and any lingering fishy smell, enhances the flavor, and creates crispy skin. The seared fish is promptly plunged into ice water to halt the cooking process, then drained and sliced. Katsuo no tataki is served with condiments and sauces that vary by region and individual chef.

Shio tataki, another popular dish, features warm grilled bonito lightly sprinkled with salt. Fishermen often eat it with thin slices of fresh garlic. Other condiments include ponzu, a sauce made from soy sauce and local citrus, as well as salt and garlic, myoga (a mild type of Japanese ginger), scallions, shiso (perilla) leaves, and nihaizu, a 50/50 mix of soy sauce and vinegar.

And there are more. Tosa-maki is rolled sushi filled with seared bonito, shiso leaves, and sometimes raw garlic. Another is harambo, broiled bonito belly served with salt. Chichiko, bonito heart, is generally prepared in one of two ways — stewed in a sweet and salty broth of ginger and soy sauce or simply grilled with salt.

For the more adventurous palate, there’s shuto, written with the Japanese characters for “sake” and “theft.” 酒盗 This peculiar name comes from the dish’s perfect pairing with sake, tempting drinkers to steal the tasty dish. Shuto is a paste made from the salted and fermented organs of bonito mixed with sake, mirin, honey, and onions, resulting in, shall we say, a unique and bold flavor.

Although I traveled far to learn about this amazingly versatile fish, the largest number of bonito caught in the country is right in Kagoshima Prefecture, my home.

The post Bonito — Ancient, Essential Basis of Japanese Cuisine first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

Inextricably woven into the tapestry of culture

A walk down the hill from my house takes me to the grounds of a Shinto shrine. For more than 250 years, though, that shrine had been a Buddhist temple.

Remnants of those former years are kept in a small clearing in the forest near the shrine — a broken Nio Guardian deity and some statues that have been repaired after being defaced, mossy gravestones and gorintō (small stone pagodas used as memorials for the dead) gathered together after having been scattered in the forest.

This is not unusual. A visit to any temple in my prefecture of Kagoshima reveals the same troubled past. Yet, despite this unfortunate historic episode of widespread destruction, Buddhism has had a tremendous influence in Japan, profoundly impacting the culture.

One school of Buddhism, Zen, gave birth to many of the arts we consider quintessentially Japanese —

• Noh theater

• Ikebana flower arranging

• Tea ceremony

• Japanese ink painting

What is Buddhism?

Buddhism, practiced by seven percent of the world’s population, offers humanity a path to escape the endless cycle of death and rebirth known as samsara. To the Buddhist, the root cause of all suffering is desire, so the goal is to free oneself from earthly desires and accumulate enough good karma so that one can attain enlightenment. Enlightened ones are themselves buddhas, omniscient beings who have transcended human desires and entered the state of nirvana.

How one reaches this goal differs according to the various Buddhist schools of thought.

Origins

Buddhism’s founder, Siddhartha Gautama, was born a prince in southern Nepal in 563 BC. He left his courtly life in search of meaning, and through his years of wanderings, developed what has come to be known as Buddhist philosophy. After his death, his teachings were transcribed by his followers. These texts are the sutras still read and chanted today at Buddhist temples.

Early Japanese Buddhism

Buddhism was brought from the Korean peninsula to Japan in the 6th century. After initial resistance by certain influential clans, this new religion was adopted by the ruling class.

Towards the end of the 6th century, Regent Prince Shotoku made Buddhism the national religion. He ordered the building of the Hōryuji temple in his capital, which still stands as the oldest wooden structure in the world and a UNESCO Cultural Heritage.

During this period, Buddhism was a monastic religion set up as the protector of the nation.

Nara era (710-794)

In the 8th century, after a smallpox outbreak wiped out one-third of the Japanese population, Emperor Shōmu ordered temples and nunneries to be established in each province to protect their areas from epidemics and bad harvests.

Beyond their spiritual functions, temples served as centers for education and culture, as well as hospitals and refuges. Many well-educated Buddhist monks headed large engineering projects, overseeing the financing and construction of waterworks and roads.

Temples were granted tax exempt status, and it wasn’t long before corruption took hold. To combat this, Emperor Shōmu sent emissaries to China to bring back a monk capable of establishing official precepts for the ordination of Buddhist monks. The chosen monk was Ganjin, already in his 50s, whose journey to Japan was thwarted by storms and shipwrecks. After five failed attempts, and being blinded from an infection contracted during a shipwreck, Ganjin, at the age of 66, persevered one last time. On his sixth attempt in 754, he finally set foot on southern Kyushu.

Ganjin set up Japan’s first ordination platform at Todaiji temple in Nara, then one at Dazaifu, “The Western Capital” in northern Kyushu, and another in Tochigi. With hopes of keeping the purity of Buddhist belief unspoiled, he codified the precepts for priests.

Shinbutsu shugo

Over the centuries, Buddhism merged with Shinto, Japan’s indigenous religion, and a uniquely Japanese belief system developed known as Shinbutsu Shugo, 神仏習合. Buddhist temples were built on the grounds of Shinto shrines, and vice versa, demonstrating devotion to both Shinto kami (gods) and Buddhas. One school of thought was that fallible kami needed Buddhist teachings to grow and learn, just like humanity, while another professed that high Shinto kami were manifestations of certain Buddhas. Nevertheless, these two religions coexisted in harmony for centuries.

During the 8th century, three main schools of Buddhism — Ritsu, Kegon, and Hossō —developed and began wielding significant influence on the Imperial Court. So significant, in fact, that one Buddhist priest attempted to take the throne.

Heian era (794-1185)

To distance the Imperial Court from the reach of the influential Buddhists in Nara, Emperor Kanmu moved the capital to Heian-Kyo, now Kyoto, at the end of the 8th century. At first, only two temples were allowed within the new capital, To-ji and Sai-ji, the Eastern and Western Temples. To-ji remains today much as it has for the last 1,200 years.

Esoteric Buddhism

In the 9th century, two monks brought back different schools of esoteric Buddhism from China — Saicho, who founded the Tendai religion, and Kūkai, who founded Shingon.

Both schools espoused the concept of an eternal and universal Buddha, with Siddhartha Gautama, the historical Buddha, a manifestation of this cosmic spirit. According to this philosophy, within every being resides an element of the cosmic Buddha, so all could develop their inborn Buddha nature and attain salvation.

Commonalities among these sects include the concepts of karma and rebirth, monasticism, and the importance of self-discipline. Their teachings held that as long as individuals remained attached to desire, suffering was inevitable. To break free from the cycle of suffering and rebirth, entering a monastery for study and the practice of asceticism was considered the most effective path.

Tendai, Shingon, and all further schools of Buddhism share the belief in bodhisattvas, individuals who have accumulated enough merit — good karma — to attain nirvana and escape the cycle of rebirth. This they selflessly gave up to help others on their journeys toward enlightenment. Similar to saints in Christianity, believers pray to compassionate bodhisattvas for guidance, help, and protection.

Tendai

Saicho, convinced of the necessity for self-guidance and spiritual enlightenment, established the Enryakuji temple complex on Mount Hiei, northeast of Kyoto. There, monks could immerse themselves in extensive learning, with abundant books, and a minimum of food, clothing, and shelter — the perfect environment to lay aside physical desires and strive for enlightenment.

Saicho envisioned Enryakuji as a university of sorts, where monks could be educated in all Buddhist teachings, regardless of sect. The temple complex evolved into a center of Japanese higher learning and Buddhist study, instrumental in the education of future founders of various Buddhist schools.

In the Tendai tradition, believers sought Buddhahood through the cyclical process of death and rebirth, laying aside desires, accumulating karma, and ultimately paving the way to nirvana. As well, Saicho advocated for the monks to use their knowledge and skills to contribute to the well-being of the nation.

Shingon

After returning from China, Kūkai set up his headquarters on Mount Kōya, in the mountains of Wakayama, south of Kyoto.

Kūkai emphasized to his followers that the path to enlightenment could only be truly grasped under the guidance of teachers, ideally within a monastery. Shingon monks dedicated their time to meditating, using

• mandalas — sacred images depicting the cosmic Buddha’s boundless power
• mantras — sacred words; Shingon means mantra, or “true word”
• mudras — sacred hand positions

In contrast to the Tendai tradition, Kūkai taught that the ultimate aim of meditation and study was union with the cosmic Buddha during one’s lifetime. Dedicated practitioners of Shingon could reach the point of satori, enlightenment while still in existence.

Although Kūkai established the first school for commoners at Tōji temple in Kyoto, Buddhism continued to be predominantly practiced by the aristocracy.

Pure Land Buddhism

Jōdo-shu

In the 10th century, the Pure Land school of thought rose from the ground of Tendai through Honen, a monk trained at Enryakuji Temple.

Not unlike the Protestant Reformation that swept Europe in the 16th century, Honen taught that faith in Amida Nyorai was all that was necessary to reach the Pure Land. According to his teachings, believers attained salvation by expressing their devotion through the recitation of the Nenbutsu, Namu amida butsu, 南無阿弥陀仏, “I take refuge in Amida Nyorai,” declaring their faith in the saving grace of Amida Nyorai. The diligent recitation of this prayer was believed to enable souls to be reborn in the heavenly Pure Land.

Honen’s emphasis on the simplicity of faith and the transformative power of the Nenbutsu marked a drastic departure from more complex doctrinal practices, making the Pure Land school an influential force welcomed by the common people.

Jōdo Shinshū

In the 13th century, Honen’s disciple, Shinran, established New Pure Land Buddhism, Jōdo Shinshū. Also trained at Enryakuji, Shinran broke with Tendai to start his own sect based on the fundamental belief in the equality of all individuals, irrespective of societal position or status. All people were equally worthy of salvation.

Shinran took the Pure Land doctrine further by declaring that humanity’s only hope lay in the saving grace of Amida Nyorai, with preference given to the seemingly most unworthy. Jōdo Shinshū was eagerly received by farmers, merchants, and even some local lords and samurai.

Jisshu

Another Pure Land sect, Jisshu, was founded in the 13th century by a former Tendai monk named Ippen. He traveled throughout Japan, distributing prayer cards inscribed with the nenbutsu while expressing his joy through dance. Ippen taught that the way to salvation was found in the repetition of the nenbutsu — an individual’s efforts were inconsequential.

According to Ippen, even faith was not a prerequisite for salvation, as the absolute power of Buddha transcended the need for belief. Through chanting, individuals can attain a state of oneness with the Buddha.

Kamakura through Azuchi-Momoyama eras (1185–1600)

Zen

The simple, rustic, and unadorned lifestyle of Zen was embraced by the warrior class of the Kamakura Era. Practicing Zen brought calm to their troubled lives and gave them meaning, and a way to live and die peacefully.

Rinzai

At the end of the 12th century, Eisai, another monk who had studied at Enryakuji Temple, visited China and brought back Rinzai Zen Buddhism. Based on seated meditation, Eisai emphasized enlightenment by emptying the mind, mindfulness, martial arts, and the use of koans, paradoxical statements or questions, to encourage intuitive growth.

He also brought back tea seeds which he planted on Hirado Island and in the mountains of Kyushu. Initially used to keep Zen practitioners awake during meditation, green tea is now Japan’s most widely consumed beverage.

Sōtō

Another monk who studied at Enryakuji Temple, Dōgen, visited China and brought back the Sōtō school of Zen. Dōgen’s teachings kept things simple. Believers were to sit in meditation, emptying their minds, until enlightenment came upon them. Wanting to remove himself from the capital and other Buddhist influences, he built his main Eiheiji temple complex deep in the mountains of what is now Fukui Prefecture.

Dōgen taught that every individual possesses the essence of the Buddha. However, failing to realize this, we often live selfish, willful lives, resulting in suffering. Seeking refuge in Buddha allows our minds to find rest, our lives to be filled with harmony and light, and instills in us a sense of joy in being of service to society.

Nichiren

Nichiren upheld the supremacy of the Lotus Sutra. According to him, through the wholehearted chanting of “Namu myōhō renge kyō” — All Hail to the Lotus Sutra — one can unite with the cosmic Buddha and achieve enlightenment. This chanting would activate an individual’s inherent Buddha-nature, unleashing power and wisdom that allowed for a life akin to a ‘lotus flower in a muddy pond.’ This enlightenment was available to all beings, allowing one to attain Buddhahood within one’s lifetime.

Edo Era (1603-1867)

Ōbaku Zen

The other main school of Zen was brought to Japan in the early 17th century by a Chinese monk, Ingen, after the fall of the Ming Dynasty. Curiously, Ingen had been a monk of the Linji School, which was the forerunner of Rinzai. Through the years, Rinzai in Japan developed separately from Linji in China, so that when Ingen reached Japan the religion he brought was so unlike Rinzai that it became a new sect of Zen, Ōbaku.

As a side note, he also brought green beans, called in Japanese, Ingen-mame — Ingen beans.

Meiji era (1868-1912)

In the late 18th century, intellectuals of Kokugaku, or National Learning, promoted Shinto as the national religion and denounced Buddhism as an unnecessary foreign intrusion.

In 1867, the last Tokugawa shogun returned political power to the emperor. Emperor Meiji, the “son of heaven” and direct descendant of the Shinto Sun Goddess, Amaterasu Omikami, assumed leadership of Japan.

The elevation of the emperor’s status left little room for Buddhism, leading to the government’s enactment of The Kami and Buddhas Separation Order, 神仏判然令, Shinbutsu Hanzenrei. This order forcibly separated the religions that had existed in harmony for centuries, often sharing the same sacred grounds. The aftermath saw a period of zealous destruction of Buddhist temples, art, and sutras. Many Buddhist priests abandoned their monastic lives, while others became Shinto priests, converting their temples to shrines.

Over time, this zealous persecution waned, allowing Buddhism to regain strength and popularity. Although, the destruction of countless works of art has left its mark on Japan’s cultural heritage.

Buddhism today

Buddhism and Shinto again coexist peacefully, but the scars remain. Broken and defaced statues continue to be found in forests and rivers. Former temples remain as shrines.

Many schools of Buddhism remain active in Japan, among them, according to the Agency for Cultural Affairs, Pure Land sects stand out as the most popular, with a combined membership of over 21 million. As you can see, they hold the top three positions in this statistical breakdown:

• New Pure Land, Hongaji sect 7,840,000

• Otani sect of Pure Land, Higashi Honganji 7,350,000

• Pure Land 6,020,000
• Sōtō Zen 3,670,000
• Tendai 1,530,000
• Shingon 1,420,000*

*Data from the Mount Koya sect was unavailable.

Religion in Japan

But what of other religions? Looking at more government statistics, we find the following breakdown among the Japanese population:

• 69% Shinto
• 58% Buddhist
• 1% Christian
• 5.7% Other

Those numbers don’t quite add up until we stop to realize that Buddhism and Shinto are non-exclusive religions. One can be both a practicing Shinto and a practicing Buddhist and, clearly, many people are.

Japan’s religious syncretism has been described as “Born a Shinto, married a Christian, die a Buddhist.” In many ways, this is true. The religions are beautifully harmonious. Shinto is a celebration of life, milestones, and joy. Widely idealized by the media, many people enjoy the novelty of a Christian — or pseudo-Christian — wedding. While Buddhist beliefs focus on death and the afterlife, completing the cycle of life’s significant events.

Would that all the world’s religions could coexist in such harmony.

The post Buddhism in Japan—A Little History of this Powerful and Influential Religion first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

Revolutionizing Japan and Embracing the Modern Age

As I stroll through the streets of my hometown, Kagoshima, in southern Kyushu, and trek across the volcanic mountains of Kirishima to the north, I find myself retracing the footsteps of the legendary Sakamoto Ryōma. This influential samurai, who arrived by ship to Kagoshima in the mid-19th century with his new bride, hiked the rugged mountains, soaked in healing hot springs, and even is said to have removed the upended sword from the top of Mount Takachiho placed there by Ninigi no Mikoto, the ancestor of Japanese emperors.

A much-loved and romanticized figure in Japan’s history, Sakamoto Ryōma defied his low-ranking samurai origins to wield immense political influence. He is widely celebrated for his pivotal role in toppling the 265-year rule of the Tokugawa shogunate, ending feudalism, and ushering in Japan’s modern era. In his short but storied life, Ryōma risked death by leaving his clan, reconciled former foes, and authored articles crucial to the formation of the Meiji government.

Challenged by frail health from a young age, Ryōma faced early adversity when his mother died when he was just ten. His older sister assumed the responsibility of raising him, engendering a close and affectionate relationship that lasted until Ryōma’s untimely death. Much of what we know of Ryōma’s character and perspective on life emerged from the numerous letters he wrote to his devoted sister.

“Revere the emperor, expel the barbarians!”

At age 14, Ryōma’s sister arranged for him to study swordsmanship in their hometown of Tosa, now Kochi City. She hoped it would help him cultivate both physical strength and confidence, aspects that had been lacking due to years of weakness and bullying. The plan proved successful. Three years later, in 1853, Ryōma’s clan granted permission for him to journey to Edo, now Tokyo, to refine his skills, where he ascended to become a master instructor. While practicing swordsmanship in Edo, one can imagine Ryōma had no idea of the impending dramatic changes that would soon unfold in his country, changes in which he would play an intimate and significant role.

In 1853, the American Commodore Perry and his menacing black ships sailed into Edo harbor sending shockwaves throughout the country. His four ships wielded more firepower than the entire shogunate, prompting Ryōma to be summoned to defend the Shinagawa coast. There, he lent his voice to the swelling chorus advocating for Sonnō-jōi, “Revere the emperor, expel the barbarians!”

Returning to Tosa in 1858, he met with Kawada Shōryō, an artist well versed in Western ways due to his close friendship with John Manjirō, a castaway who spent 11 years in the United States. Through many conversations with Shōryō, Ryōma’s eyes were opened to the vast technological capabilities of the Western world. Feudal Japan had no other choice but to embrace Western knowledge. “Expelling barbarians” was no longer part of his objective.

When his relative, Takechi Zuizan, formed the Tosa Imperial Loyalist Party, Ryōma was the first to join. The following year, he traveled to Chōshū, now Yamaguchi Prefecture, entrusted with a confidential letter from Zuizan to Genzui Kusaka, a key figure in the Sonnō-jōi movement. During their meeting, Kusaka expressed that under the prevailing circumstances, feudal lords and aristocrats would be unreliable guardians of Japan’s future. Instead, it was time for grassroots individuals, particularly ambitious young men from rural regions like Ryōma, to stand at the forefront of change. 

Dappan — Leaving the Tosa Clan

During the Edo period (1603-1867), traveling outside one’s clan necessitated the domain lord’s permission and an official travel permit to be presented at checkpoint barriers. Dappan, leaving one’s clan without permission, was akin to someone today crossing international borders without a passport—but the penalty was death. In the spring of his 28th year, Ryōma took this daring step, leaving the Tosa domain to embrace the life of a rōnin, a masterless samurai. 

He first journeyed to areas unlikely to punish rōnin, starting with Chōshū, a hotbed of radical anti-shogunate fervor. From there, he traveled further southwest to the more moderate Satsuma, now Kagoshima Prefecture, where the leaders harbored aspirations of national unity, envisioning an alliance between the shogunate and the dominant feudal lords.

After absorbing these disparate ideologies, Ryōma set his course for Edo. There, he met with Katsu Kaishū, the shogunate’s chief magistrate for warships, who had previously captained the ship sent as the second official Japanese embassy to the United States. Some historians question Ryōma’s intentions, suggesting an assassination plot against Kaishū. Yet Ryōma emerged from the encounter persuaded of the necessity of a plan to increase Japan’s military strength. The rōnin Ryōma became Kaishū’s protégé.

When Kaishū was assigned to patrol the sea around Osaka, Ryōma accompanied him. In the small fishing village of Kobe, Kaishū established the Kobe Naval Training Center to train officers, construct a modern port, and build Western-style warships. There, Ryōma and other rōnin received invaluable training.

On June 5, 1864, growing hostilities between the shogunate and the opposition erupted in Kyoto. Sonnō-jōi shishi (rōnin activists) staying at the Ikedaya Inn were violently set upon by the shogunate’s Shinsengumi police forces. The following day, Ryōma’s house was attacked. The Shinsengumi became ever more bold, indiscriminately arresting anyone from Chōshū.

Chōshū forces rallied with the support of young men from Katsu Kaishū’s Naval Training Center. Tensions flared between Sonnō-jōi shishi and the shogunate forces. Violence escalated. Chōshū forces attacked the Imperial Palace hoping to forcibly restore the emperor to political power only to be defeated by samurai from Satsuma and Aizu, now Fukushima Prefecture. Fires broke out in Kyoto.

Kaishū was summoned back to Edo and dismissed from his position. He spent two years in quiet reading at his estate.

Meanwhile, Ryōma sought refuge at the Satsuma clan’s residence in Osaka. The following year, under the patronage of the Satsuma clan, Ryōma, along with fellow rōnin from the Kobe Naval Training Center, established the Kameyama Shachu, a trading company and naval force based in Nagasaki. Through this venture, they imported Western arms, goods, and ships for the southwestern clans. Ryōma’s ultimate goal was clear—to overthrow the shogunate.

The Satcho alliance — Satsuma and Choshu join forces

Later in 1864, the shogun issued a decree demanding all domains unite for an all-out assault on Chōshū. Satsuma defied this order. The Satsuma leaders Saigo Takamori and Okubo Toshimichi had been shifting away from their previous moderate stance. Disillusioned with Shogun Tokugawa’s increasingly authoritarian approach, they became convinced that toppling the shogunate and establishing a new government under the emperor’s leadership was the only path forward.

On January 21, 1866, Ryōma orchestrated a meeting in Kyoto that brought together Saigo Takamori of Satsuma and Kido Takayoshi of Chōshū. These former foes forged an alliance that overcame the enmity of the past. United by a shared vision of a new Japan, they became a formidable opposition force against the shogunate.

For Ryōma, the price of this mediation was steep. The shogun branded him an enemy of the state, and retribution was swift.

In search of a haven, Ryōma went to stay at the quiet Teradaya Inn in Fushimi, near Kyoto. However, his peace was shattered when shogunate officials raided the inn. Quick thinking by Oryō, a courageous woman who worked at Teradaya, coupled with the aid of a samurai from the Chofu Domain, enabled Ryōma to slip through the fingers of his would-be assassins. Despite sustaining severe hand injuries, he managed to escape to the safety of the Satsuma Clan’s Kyoto residence.

Japan’s first honeymoon

Within the safety of the Satsuma Clan residence, Ryōma was tended to by the gentle Oryō. As the days passed, a deep bond blossomed between them, and they were soon married. At Saigo Takamori’s suggestion, the couple went on a honeymoon to Kirishima in Satsuma—the first honeymoon recorded in Japanese history—where they soaked in the healing hot springs of the mountains, and Ryōma recovered from his wounds.

In the summer of 1866, the shogunate unleashed a second onslaught to punish Chōshū. Ryōma fought for Chōshū aboard his British-built vessel, the Union, sailing under the banner of Kameyama Shachu. The disciplined might of the Chōshū army overwhelmed the shogunate’s forces, dealing a fateful blow to the authority that had long held Japan in its grip.

Formation of the Kaientai

As the echoes of the Chōshū victory reverberated, Ryōma found himself in Nagasaki in January 1867, where he crossed paths with Gotō Shōjirō, the power behind the Tosa domain. Certain that Japan’s progress hinged on dismantling the shogunate, Ryōma recognized the advantage of incorporating Tosa into the Satchō alliance.

Accompanying Gotō to Tosa, Ryōma was forgiven for his crime of dappan, desertion from the domain. He merged his Kameyama Shachu with the Tosa Clan, birthing the Kaientai, “Maritime Support Force,” with Ryōma at its helm. Intended to be a navy for the Tosa domain, it was an unusual organization also engaged in commercial trade and training. Its diverse composition included rōnin, doctors, officials, and even a baker. Many were people with a desire to explore overseas—although leaving the country without permission meant facing the death penalty upon return.

By June of the same year, Satsuma and Chōshū had begun contemplating the use of military force to overthrow the shogunate. Seeking a diplomatic alternative, the Tosa Clan turned to Ryōma for guidance. Aboard a ship heading to Edo with Gotō Shōjirō, Ryōma penned the Senchu Hassaku, “The Eight Point Plan for Imperial Restoration and Governance.” Among its provisions were the critical demands for the restoration of imperial rule and the establishment of a national assembly.

Gotō used his influence to formulate a petition based on Ryōma’s plan that was delivered to the 15th shogun, Tokugawa Yoshinobu. After deliberation, Yoshinobu assented to their propositions, culminating in the historic act of returning power to the Imperial Court at Nijō-jō Castle in Kyoto on October 14, 1867, bringing an end to Japan’s centuries-long feudal age.

Sakamoto Ryoma’s death and legacy

Just a month later, on Ryōma’s 31st birthday, he was staying at the house of a soy sauce merchant in Kyoto. While relaxing after dinner, the stillness was broken by a late-night knock at the door. Ryōma’s loyal bodyguard, a former sumo wrestler, told the caller to wait while he checked if Ryōma would allow his visit at so late an hour.

When the guard turned to climb the stairs to Ryōma’s second-floor room, the visitor unsheathed his sword and attacked, slashing the guard in the back. He and his accomplices rushed past the fallen guard and stormed into Ryōma’s room where he was talking with his friend, Nakaoka Shintarō. During their chaotic attack, the assassins upended lamps, scattered documents, and tore the paper doors. Following the frantic scuffle, both Ryōma and Shintarō lay mortally wounded. Ryōma died later that night, and Shintarō succumbed two days later. The identity of the assailants remains a mystery.

Since his tragic demise, Sakamoto Ryōma’s popularity has grown, bolstered by the many detailed and illustrated letters he had written to his sister. His remarkable tale has been immortalized in movies, manga, and television series. Although he did not live to see the fruition of his efforts, Ryōma’s central role in mediating the alliance between the Satsuma and Chōshū domains and his drafting of the Eight Point Plan for Imperial Restoration are widely regarded as instrumental in bringing about the Meiji Restoration.

In recent years, the 21st-century tech giant Softbank paid homage to Ryōma’s legacy. They adopted his three-striped Kaientai flag as the inspiration for their logo, symbolizing their admiration for Kaientai’s fervor and alignment with their vision. Ryōma’s influence, it seems, has transcended the boundaries of time, finding resonance in the ethos of a modern era.

The post Sakamoto Ryoma—Maverick Samurai Visionary first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

Why turtles have hairy tails in East Asian art

A dear friend who was born in 1919, survived World War II and lived to the ripe old age of 101, shared many pearls of wisdom with me. Among those were several Japanese proverbs. 

Like this one:

亀の甲より年の功

Kame no kō yori toshi no kō. “Experience is the mother of wisdom.” That’s easy to understand. Yet its literal meaning is “Wisdom from age is better than the shell of a tortoise.”

Huh? 

What does wisdom have to do with tortoise shells? 

This proverb expresses its meaning by using wordplay, a favorite in Japanese. Two homonyms are used — kō 甲, meaning turtle shell, and kō 功, meaning accumulated experience. The proverb also alludes to the symbolic imagery of the turtle as representing long life.

Turtles, cranes, and pine trees

Another proverb states:

鶴は千年亀は万年

Tsuru wa sen-nen, kame wa man-nen. “A crane lives a thousand years, a turtle, ten thousand.”

The turtle, along with the crane and the pine tree, is one of three frequently used images to convey the wish for longevity. It is usually pictured with a long hairy tail and is called a minogame 蓑亀, meaning a turtle wearing a straw raincoat.

But what is a straw raincoat? 

Allow me a brief digression.

Stiff oil-paper umbrellas, or rather, parasols, came to Japan from China during the 9th century and were used as sunshades. The folding mechanism was invented in the late 16th century, and folding parasols became popular during the Edo Era (1603–1867). 

Straw raincoats and kasa hats — conical umbrella hats commonly seen in East Asian art and still worn today — had traditionally been used as protection against rain. 

We had to leave it to the Europeans to invent rain umbrellas.

Back to turtles. 

Why do they have hairy tails?

Over many years spent in water, bluish-green algae attaches and thrives on the turtle’s carapace, growing long and luxurious, and giving the appearance of a hairy tail. The years it takes for the algae to lengthen reveal the turtle’s long life. 

I confess I was puzzled about these hairy turtles for years. I’m happy to have finally learned how this whimsical image came to represent longevity.

The post Turtles, Longevity, and Strangely Hairy Tails first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

From Aomori to Kagoshima, here are some of my favorites

Someone recently asked me if I have seen a waterfall. Oh, I have seen waterfalls. I hunt for them like elusive treasures. I scramble over disused and overgrown trails to find them. I venture to say, I collect them.

Here in Japan, waterfalls are so magnificent that some are considered Shinto kami, or deities. Like the country’s tallest, with a drop of 133 meters and one of Japan’s Three Great Waterfalls, the glorious Nachi Falls in Wakayama.

But one needn’t go far to find waterfalls in this country.

In my home prefecture of Kagoshima, there are hundreds. Among them is the hidden Nagano Falls, where water cascades and twists between moss-covered craggy rocks into an open cave.

It is not easy to find. One must follow the few inconspicuous, small Japanese signs that point the way along narrow country roads, passing by age-old farms, rice fields, and vegetable gardens. Then down an even narrower road to a path that leads to the 13-meter-tall Nagano Falls.

Surely, the allure of waterfalls is universal. Being in their presence has an almost enchanting effect — their beauty lifts heavy hearts, the thunder of falling water fills our ears, and our eyes are captivated by the dance of water on stone. The air carries a refreshing coolness. The moss covering the stones is soft and delicate.

Waterfall hunting

A couple of years ago, my quest for waterfalls led me to Aomori Prefecture, in the far north of the island of Honshu. I had read that Oirase Gorge was waterfall heaven.

My journey to get there took a full day.

From my home in southern Kyushu, I flew to Tokyo, then took the Shinkansen bullet train to Hachinohe, a city on the northeastern coast of Honshu. There, I rented a car to drive 90 minutes for the last leg of my journey to Lake Towada.

The Oirase Gorge traces the course of the Oirase River as it winds its way northward from Lake Towada through a forest of trees and a near-endless variety of moss.

Photos cannot do justice to the glory that is Oirase Gorge. I spent several hours leisurely hiking along the trail, immersed in the splendor of its countless falls and cascades.

After two nights at Lake Towada, I drove back to Hachinohe, returned the car, and again took the Shinkansen. This time, south to Sendai in Miyagi Prefecture. After a good night’s sleep, I boarded a local train to Yamadera in Yamagata Prefecture.

On the way, I noticed a station with the intriguing name, Omoshiroyama Kōgen, “Amusing Mountain Highlands.” As the train whisked past the station, I caught a glimpse of a placard with a map of a hiking trail on the platform.

A new place to explore!

After climbing the 1,015 steps to the top of Yamadera and back down, I had plenty of daylight left to explore the “Amusing Mountain.”

I was glad I did. Walking along the aptly named Kōyō River, I felt I had entered another world. (Kōyō is the Japanese word that describes the changing colors of leaves in autumn.)

The first waterfall I came across took me down a narrow path, over an old, wooden bridge that had seen better days, and across patches of mud and uneven stones. But it was worth it.

Called Arare Falls, meaning “Hail Falls,” this hidden gem is a modest 10 meters tall.

I backtracked, crossed over the railroad tracks, and found the path down to the Kōyō River.

I couldn’t believe my good fortune! I had wandered into paradise. The gorge was a symphony of nature’s best — the colorful trees, the crystal-clear stream, the waterfalls, both small and grand, and even the path itself with its charming bridges — I was in awe.

Enveloped by the crisp autumn air, surrounded by the amazing colors of the leaves, and serenaded by the burbling of flowing water, I once more found myself lost in the wonders of nature.

Then my breath caught when I turned the corner and gazed upon this beauty.

Kinuito Falls, “Silk Thread Falls,” gracefully spreads like threads as it descends 22 meters along a stone face. On that serendipitous day in Omoshiroyama, it was merely one of the many wonders I had the privilege to view.

Another outstanding hike occurred a few years back when I took advantage of the Japanese government’s domestic travel subsidies during the pandemic.

Nikkō, Tochigi Prefecture

Located around two hours by train north of Tokyo, Nikkō is a quaint city where the first shogun of the Edo Era (1603–1867) is deified at the Toshogu Shrine. When I traveled to Nikkō to visit that magnificent masterpiece of a Shinto Shrine, I could not resist taking a bus to the east to hike in the beautiful Senjogahara Highlands to find more waterfalls.

And find them, I did. Tochigi is home to another one of Japan’s 3 Great Waterfalls, Kegon Falls, with an impressive drop of 97 meters.

An easy hike along the shore of Lake Chuzenji, then along the Yu River to the north, lies Ryuzu Falls, “Dragon Head Falls.” It cascades in a graceful dance, crisscrossing 210 meters down to its rocky pool below.

Niagaras of the East

On the southern island of Kyushu, we have not one, but two imposing waterfalls that have claimed the title of “The Niagara of the East.”

In northwest Kagoshima Prefecture, stands the 210 meter wide, 12 meter tall, Sogi Falls:

In Oita, Harajiri Falls spans a width of 120 meters and stands 20 meters tall:

Please let me know in the comments which one of these glorious falls you think is most deserving of the title of “Niagara of the East.”

My favorite

This exploration of waterfalls wouldn’t be complete without mentioning my favorite, although deciding on just one has been difficult.

To see the hidden falls I’ve chosen, you first need to ferry from Kagoshima City over to the peninsula on the Pacific coast side of Kagoshima, called Osumi. From there, drive down nearly to the end, the southernmost point of Japan’s main islands, Cape Sata.

About 30 minutes before reaching Cape Sata, turn left and follow narrow winding roads for about 20 minutes. After parking, you then hike 1.2 kilometers through a forest along a stream of crystal-clear, aquamarine water.

Rounding the last turn, you will behold this marvelous sight. My photo does not come near to capturing its wonder.

Ogawa Falls tumbles down a 46-meter drop and seeps through the jagged 60-meter wide cliff face forming a pool of extraordinarily colored water.

As this journey through Japan’s waterfalls comes to a close, my wish is that you, too, will have the opportunity to explore some of the fabulous falls and diverse natural treasures that this beautiful country holds.

The post Waterfalls in Japan—A Selection of its Most Magnificent first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.