When people ask me what is difficult about using Japanese, I usually tell them that talking on the phone is hard. This is for good reason–when you’re talking face to face, there are non-verbal cues to help you along in communication. However, you can only hope for a good connection on the phone so you can hear every syllable, including the crucial verb conjugation at the end of the sentence which will dictate the entire meaning of the sentence! What’s more, if it’s someone you don’t know, they’ll likely be using hefty of amounts of keigo–very formal Japanese–which even young native speakers have trouble using before they enter the work force.

It’s one thing when the person on the other line is someone I know, but customer service lines can prove especially challenging. Besides using keigo, they are usually talking about subject matter I rarely use in my daily life, and since this is what they work with every day, they tend to speak very, very fast, and many phrases tend to run together into single words. This is not just a Japan thing–based on personal experience on both ends of the phone, I’m willing to bet this is a world-wide trend for any kind of call center. I can’t fault the other party too much–if I had just been able to distinguish a few key pieces of information dropped throughout the course of the call, I could have saved us both a lot of time and confusion. Some things you only learn through experience.

On the other hand, I usually don’t have any difficulties with every day exchanges and errand running, so I sometimes forget that I look like I may not understand everything going on around me. I was thoroughly confused when someone made a chopstick gesture in the air at a grocery store, and I wondered why in the world she would be bringing up something about scissors.

That said, I really appreciated the person on the other line when I called my gas company. He asked if Japanese was okay, I said yes, and then he used normal Japanese–speaking in a clear voice at a normal pace. Sometimes that’s all non-native speakers of any language could ask for!

Dear Susano-o, please grant me some of your wedded bliss!

Following Parts 1 and 2 of the overview of Yamata-no-Orochi sites, we’ve reached the happily-ever-after for Susano-o and Kushinada-hime. Perhaps moreso than for a bloodthirsty and intoxicated giant eight-headed slithering monster, visitors come to the Izumo region seeking their own happy endings.

Here’s that buzzword again: en-musubi.

En originally has to do with any sort of ties different people and nature may have interwoven with each other, but it’s more popularly associated with matchmaking–and there is lots and lots of matchmaking to be done here. Izumo Taisha pretty much specializes in it, and that effect is extended to the rest of the region. Here in Matsue, there are a number of little places specifically known as en-musubi power spots, and finding them is supposed to give you good luck in finding your soul mate–everything from Yaegaki Shrine to a heart in the natural grain of the wood used inside Matsue Castle.

Finding romantic en in all sorts of unintentional places is common throughout Japan. For instance, which a couple of large rocks are found near each other, they are considered Meoto-Iwa (“Husband-and-Wife Boulders”), and they are often tied together with shimenawa, like the pair found in the Mihonoseki area of the Shimane Peninsula.

Click for image source and other Mihonoseki photos!

The Meoto-Iwa representing Susano-o and Kushinada-hime on Mt. Yakumo take this a step further by having a whole family of rocks, including one to represent the fruits of their union. By the time I got to the area while doing my Orochi day tour I had run out of daylight (would have been fine if I went in summer instead of winter!), so I haven’t seen these rocks myself, but here are a couple Japanese blogs that have lots of photos of the hike leading up to the rocks and the view from the top: here and here.

The photo I’ve seen most often is from an advertising campaign for the San’in region that features Nezumiotoko, a well-known character from Gegege-no-Kitaro (thanks for lending him out, Sakaiminato!)

Susano-o is partially to thank for the popularity of en-musubi, seeing as his was one of the first successful marriages in the Shinto pantheon. The heavenly pairings never seemed to end quite as well as the matches made in Izumo, and the fact that Susano-o chose to reside here helps.

This marriage between the God of the Seas (and then some) and one of the earthly kami who populated the land below the heavens was arranged in a rather human-like way. They had wedding preparations to do (which took place at Oomori Shrine), and Kushinada-hime required clean water when we was giving birth to their first child (which is why she chose Kawabe Shrine).

Let’s not forget that a girl has to look good on her wedding day, too. The mirror pond she used to fix her hair is found at Yaegaki Shrine in southern Matsue (the name should sound very familiar if you read Susano-o’s poem!). It’s a major destination for young women who come from all over the country to have the pond reveal their romantic fate. It’s fairly common to see travelers depart from the JR station to take a bus straight there before moving on to the rest of their en-musubi journey.

The pond is located behind the shrine, and the custom is (as it has been since Lafcadio Hearn‘s time, at least) to purchase a piece of paper, then float a coin on it–typically 10yen or 100yen. The most the paper hits the surface of the water, some writing appears to reveal some characteristic about your soul mate–like if they’re a kind person–and then you wait for the paper to sink. The closer to the end of the pond it sinks, the closer that person will be found, the faster it sinks, the sooner you’ll meet them. While the pond takes on a mysterious color filled with sunken papers, there are a few sad papers around the edges that never sank.

It seems like it would be more fun to do with a group of a single girlfriends than, say, with your boyfriend you dragged along.


This is said to be the shrine where Susano-o and Kushinada-hime got married. In general, Japanese society embraces both Shintoism and Buddhism, but for different purposes–Buddhist services are meant for funerals, and Shinto services are meant for weddings. While not as common as Meoto-Iwa, this shrine is also known for its Meoto-Tsubaki, the husband-and-wife camellia trees that grew into each other.

Yaegaki Shrine is also a place many young parents used to visit with special prayer requests for their children to behave. It’s very common for en-musubi shrines to go hand-in-hand with family wellness.

It’s also one of Japan’s unabashed fertility shrines. It’s there if you’re looking for it.

While Yaegaki is free to enter (as most shrine are, compared to touristy temples), you can pay 200yen to see original of one of the very first portraits of a kami–specifically Kushinada-hime, with Susano-o behind her. It seems it dates back to 893ad.

Susano-o and Kushinada-hime decided to make their home at Susa Shrine, around the border of modern day Matsue and Unnan. I have to borrow the photo below because by the time I visited it, it was after dark and I didn’t get many good photos myself. That said, it is indeed a sugasugashii (refreshing) place, as Susano-o described it in the first waka (Japanese poem).

Coincidentally, one of Japan’s most famous poets of the Asuka period, Kakinomoto-no-Hitomaro, has strong ties with the city of Masuda in southwestern Shimane in the Iwami region.

Suga Shrine is not only where the first waka was composed, but it is also said to be the first shrine of Japan.

“First Shrine in Japan”

If a shrine is a dwelling place for a heavenly being, then it would make sense if the first one to dwell on the earth (by his choice or not) resided in it. The earthly kami didn’t really count–after all, Susano-o appointed his in-laws as the caretakers for his holy household.

This was, however, just their starter home. Susano-o would go on to still play more of a role in the Kojiki, though I’m a couple stories away from getting to that. There are also many other shrines honoring Susano-o (as well as Kushinada-hime) throughout the Izumo region, and many of the local styles of Kagura dance depict the legend of the Yamata-no-Orochi. Those will pop up from time to time, but this post will wrap our Yamata-no-Orochi daytrip.

We got the overview of the home of the Yamata-no-Orochi last time. It didn’t only love the coolness of the Shimane mountains, it loved alcohol–especially Shimane’s rice wine.

If you drive around Unnan with a Yamata-no-Orochi tourism map, you can find your way to places like Kamaishi, a stone that marks the spot where the sake was brewed eight times over, or Kusamakura, a set of hills the monster used as a “grassy pillow” when it was tipsy.

Perhaps the most important site is Inze-no-Tsubogami, where the basins that held the potent liquor were buried (couldn’t have those falling into the wrong lightweight hands, after all!).

It’s a bit of a drive (or bike ride)…


…and then you need to abandon your car for a short hike.


Getting closer…


…and then you find this.

There’s not much on this mountain, but it does have atmosphere. The fenced area is around the rocks that closed off the sake basins from the outside world. A curse upon anyone who tries to dig them out!


Maybe a long time ago someone thought reaching in and leaving a 5-yen coin would bring them good luck.

Like the previously mentioned chopsticks, this legend is one of the first records of sake production in Japan. It is not the only legend that suggests the Izumo region was the first to enjoy the stuff. Rather, it’s association with Izumo City is stronger than with Unnan City, given the fame and prominence of Izumo Taisha even in modern Shintoism.

Izumo Taisha is where all the gods in Japan congregate for their annual meeting to decide the fates and interminglings of people and nature–otherwise known as en. It’s not all work, though–those gods are known for drinking lots and lots of sake. This perhaps has less to do with drunken kami-sama so much as sake‘s purifying qualities, hence, it is used extensively in Shinto rituals. Because there are so many gods to offer sake to at Izumo Taisha, it means that there is lots and lots of high quality sake contributed there.

The shrine is all fresh and new thanks to the Heisei Sengu!

Izumo Taisha is not, however, the leading sake shrine. Instead, that would be Saka Shrine (yes, there is sake-related history behind that name). You can read a more thorough description of the brewing-related rituals that take place there on the Connect Shimane website, but suffice to say for our purposes here that the main deity is the patron of brewers, and this is the lead shrine among all others that also worship that kami. This shrine is also sometimes called Matsuo Shrine, which should indeed sound familiar if you’ve been to this famous old shrine in western Kyoto.

So Shimane has history with sake, perhaps the first to make it. Sure, that’s great. But is it any good?

I tend to stick with Matsue’s tea and wagashi culture rather than drink alcohol so I can’t say for sure, but the general concensus is that it’s phenomenal.

Here’s what Sake-World.com has to say about it:

And most importantly, what’s it taste like? Indeed, Shimane sake has one of the most easily identifiable, describable, and likeable flavor and aromatic profiles in the country. In short, Shimane sake is comparatively dense in flavor, yet fine-grained and clean. There is usually a higher amino acid content, giving Shimane sake plenty of “umami.” More concretely, much sake from this region has a nutty touch with a subdued sweetness in the background, full flavor, and a brilliant acidity that both spreads the flavors and provides some backbone. Aromatically, flowers, melon-like fruit, and touches of autumnal things like pumpkins are common in Shimane sake.

Shimane is already known for award-winning rice due to the clean water and ideal temperature conditions in the mountains, but those qualities don’t just make for good staple food. To borrow more of Sake-World’s explanation:

Even more commendable is that 60% of all rice used in sake brewing in Shimane is proper sake rice. As 80% of all sake brewed in Japan is “table sake,” most of this does not use premium sake rice, but rather run-of-the-mill stuff. The fact that Shimane is way above that average is encouraging.

I’d ask the Yamata-no-Orochi if it agrees with all this sparkling praise of the sake fit for kami-sama, but it’s a little beat up and buried now. With that monster out of the way, Susano-o and Kushinada-hime had wedded bliss to keep busy with, which we’ll take a look at next time.


I feel a little late on this, especially since I finished posting the story of Susano-o and the Yamata-no-Orochi a few weeks ago and did my own tour of Unnan back in January and it’s now June.

Unnan (雲南) is a fairly new city, established in 2004 with the merger of five towns and one village. It’s in the southern (南) part of the Izumo region (出雲, which is also sometimes called Unshuu 雲州 with an alternate pronunciation for 雲), hence the name. Not all of the sites having to do with the Yamata-no-Orochi legend take place within the city borders, but most of them do, so many public areas and businesses decorate with giant serpant motifs. For a harrowing monster that’s inspired countless artistic renditions throughout Japanese history and more recently served as the inspiration for foes facing everyone from Godzilla to Doraemon, it hasn’t been able to escape modern Japan’s kawaiiifying culture.

That said, if you ask people from Unnan what they’re most proud of, they might mention the largest collection of dotaku (bronze bells) excavated from a single site which was found at Kamo Iwakura, or the cherry trees along the Kuno River (and by extension, the Hii River). It’s designated as one of the top 100 cherry blossom viewing spots in Japan, and it just so happens that I did my flower viewing there a couple months ago. They also have reason to proud of their high quality Kisuki Milk.

One of the other claims to fame you’ll see posters for was a movie set in Unnan and called “Un, nan?” (うん、何? which means “yeah, what?”). This little high school romance not only features cherry blossoms, milk, archeological dig sites, and everyone’s favorite eight-headed monster, but it also helped make a bridge near the cherry blossoms and spanning the Hii River famous as the Negai-bashi (願橋, Wishing Bridge).

The story goes that if you can cross the bridge with your eyes closed, your wish will be granted. With the help of my guide (a fellow CIR stationed in Unnan who always makes a fun guide), I succeeded! I was so focused on crossing, though, that I forgot to make a wish. I suppose if my wish was to cross without falling in, then it came true.

That said, the Hii River, which flows through the old land of Izumo from the mountains north to Lake Shinji is also the spot where Susano-o first reached Japan. It was there that he noticed a pair of chopsticks floating down the river, leading him to conclude that there was civilization nearby, and thereby leading the people of Izumo to conclude that chopsticks come from Izumo because this was the first recorded use of them.

There are gift shops lining the way to Izumo Taisha which specialize in chopsticks, including really, really fancy, expensive bridal chopsticks. That said, a wedding at Izumo Taisha isn’t terribly expensive, you just have to book really far in advance!

At first I didn’t buy that, but there are many scholars that suggest Susano-o is a kami of possible Korean origins, unlike his more nationally revered and purely Japanese sister Amaterasu. It’s quite possible that a number of pieces of daily life in Japan were imported from China via Korea by way of the San’in region.

Moving further south along the Hii River, it doesn’t surprise me that the Yamata-no-Orochi would also choose this part of the region as its home. I rather like weekend getaways to the mountains of Unnan myself. Since I happened to visit a handful of hot springs the last time I was out there, I’ve marked on the map where the hot springs are in the area just for fun.

I’ve visited only three of the ones that show up here! I have much more onsen-ing to do.

The Yamata-no-Orochi was particularly known to reside at a place called Ama-ga-fuchi. Though these are photos from a cold winter evening, it is a breezy place to stop in summer–which is when I’m betting this story took place given Susano-o’s poem about how refreshing the area is.


One of the theories I’ve heard about the origins of this legend is that the anatomy of the Yamata-no-Orochi was based on the mountains and the offshoots of the Hii River. It’s threat to kamikind was likely based on the flooded river’s threat to humankind. The “grass-cutting” sword Susano-o found within one of the tails may represent human triumph over nature in preventing floods and engaging in agriculture, as well as building tools and swords out of iron (both techniques might also have been inherited from Korea). Furthermore, Kushinada-hima is also known as Inata-hime–“Rice Field Princess.” This sources for the Yamata-no-Orochi certainly seems plausible to me, though I don’t know where they would have gotten the parts about the red eyes. On that note, iron is a big thing in ancient Izumo, but that’s something to touch on another time.

On a typical day-tour of the Orochi sites I doubt most people are thinking that deeply into it. It’s fun to drive with a map and check out the well-marked places were even minute pieces of the story took place. While this was the place that the Yamata-no-Orochi lived, it’s also the place where it was buried–the tails in a place called Iwatsubo Shrine, and the heads in a tiny neighborhood spot called Happonsugi (八本杉, literally “eight cedars”). There are eight cedar trees growing there to mark the eight heads.


Besides the tall cedars, there’s not much here besides this rock (and buried heads, I suppose).


And there’s a pretty pattern in the gravel.


And this… altar? Casket? Whatever it is, it’s not something I’m used to seeing in a Shinto shrine–not that this even counts as a shrine so much as a holy site.


I didn’t find any information indicating what this is, but I did find that whoever carved this had nice penmanship.

We’ll be moving on to many people’s favorite part of the legend next: the sake.
Or you could skip ahead to matchmaking.

This particular elementary school visit was also when a group of students giving a presentation prepared a posterboard with the face cut out so that other students could pose as an American–that is, in an afro that had an American flag pattern. It was brilliant, and I’m quite sad that I don’t have a photo of it.

I’m pretty sure any Japanese elementary school student who has ever written a report about the United States knows far more about the Statue of Liberty than I do. I’ve had the pleasure of reading reports and being interviewed by a number of these students, and I get all sorts of questions from “What is the most popular dessert in America?” to “How large was your family’s farm? You didn’t have a farm? Well, how big would it have been?”

On my way home one very temperate day I passed by Shirakata Tenmangu, a major shrine on the south side of Matsue. Little did I ever notice before that there was a popular skatepark across the street from the shrine! Continuing on to the north side of town, I passed through Suetsugu Park across from city hall, and discovered Matsue’s local team of slackers, “Trippin.” Slacklining is similar to tightroping, but because the nylon rope isn’t so tight you can bounce and perform a variety of tricks. This has been a worldwide competition sport for about three years now, and the dedicated Matsue slackers–a few of whom are rather advanced with their tricks–borrows elementary school gyms in cold weather and public spaces in warm weather almost every weekend.






Hmm… on second thought, a slower .gif might have been easier to look at.

Although my attempts were less than impressive, they let me try it out, and are happy to welcome anyone newcomers to the sport. If you happen to pass by, go ahead and join in! They might give you team stickers, too.



While sitting in seiza is still challenging enough, I at least learned the proper way to stand up as part of my training in Japanese manner for the kimono competition. Kimono-sensei’s method was to slide one foot into a perched position first, and then used it to push yourself straight up, with the other foot naturally sliding to join it. Sitting down into seiza is similar in that one foot slides behind you as you lower yourself to the tatami mats.

However, Tea-sensei has since instructed me that in the omotesenke school of tea ceremony, the feet stay together. In order to pull this off gracefully, it requires a little more leaning and lifting from the balls of your feet, your knees, back, and… shoulders? I can’t say I have it down to a graceful-looking science yet, though I’ve more or less picked it up well enough that I don’t always feel I’m going to topple over. Toppling over would be a bad thing in pretty much any setting, but even worse when you’re carrying antique tea tools. Thankfully I do not (yet) have any horror stories to report!

Surely we should be done with snow by now, right? What is this stuff!?

It’s mid-may around Matsue Castle, as spring is practically running to summer now. First there were plum blossoms, then came camellia, then cherry blossoms, then azalea and peonies, and now it appears something else is waking up in the warm weather.


But this is a rather unusually fleecy tree. What could it be? That’s what many people wanted to know back when it was introduced to Japan, leading to its common name, nanjyamonjya (or nanjamonja by more common romanization), which I’ve chosen to translate as “what-the-tree-is-this” to try to capture the tone of this questioning name. They are rather rare, with Matsue Castle being one of only eight spots around Japan that have them. Its proper name is hitotsubatago (Chinese fringe tree), but nanjyamonjya is much more fun.

I overheard a conversation between a mother and a boy who looked around 4-years-old or so.
Mother: This is a “nanjyamonjya.”
Boy: Really!? There are ninja here!??
Mother: No, I don’t think there are any today… ah, no! It’s nanjyamonjya, not ninja-monjya!

Considering the cover and shade these trees provide, though, I wouldn’t be surprised.

It turns out there were ninja and samurai up by the castle tower at that time, but this is completely normal. Matsue Castle is not only a tourist location, but it’s a rather social part of town where anyone can take a walk, enjoy the flowers and some dango, and walk their dogs.

Or take pictures of their dogs.

Or walk their prairie dogs??

Back on topic, the nanjyamonjya at Matsue Castle were a gift from Mr. Sugisaka, a former resident of Matsue, who sent them from Korea in 1940. They are noted for their snow-like (or beard-like?) petals, and the ones at Matsue Castle (found near by the main entrance to Matsue Castle as well as in the plum garden) are known for having somewhat longer flowers than the others mostly planted on shrines in other parts of Japan.

They have some fragrance, but it can be hard to detect. While searching for the scent, I also found that these flowers tickle. Since these trees are somewhat rare, enjoy some more pictures!




What with its sunset views over Lake Shinji and castle town atmosphere, Matsue has a long tradition of fancy ryokan and restaurants, many of which have local history to boast of–for instance, Lord Fumai used the tea room at Rinsuitei, and Lafcadio Hearn first stayed at Ohashikan‘s location when he arrived in Matsue. These are the kinds of places you go if you want a multi-course meal served by ladies in kimono in tatami rooms decorated with old scrolls and pottery.

Situated closer to the castle and prefectural government buildings is Horaiso, a little conglomeration of restaurants, including Kichijitsu-an (where my department went–you can see pictures of the food on Bernice’s blog) and Isshiki-an, an Izumo Soba restaurant. The buildings are tucked away off the main road, and retain a classic atmosphere and circle around a traditional garden, and they host a number of small, intimate events and performances throughout the year. They also host optional lectures and dinner as part of the Matsue Ghost Tours.

Just a few fancy eating places

I’ve passed by Suetsugu Shrine countless times, but never ventured inside.

This little shrine is dedicated to Izanami, and was recorded in the Izumo-no-Kuni-Fudoki (Chronicles of Ancient Izumo, 713-733 AD), hundreds of years before the founding of Matsue as we know it today. It used to be on Mt. Kameda instead, but when the city was being laid out, Horio Yoshiharu had it moved to the Chamachi district and named the neighborhood after it (these blocks are still called Suetsugu today, though they use a more modern, abbreviated kanji compound to spell it: 末次 as opposed to 須衛都久). Many people visited Chamachi to pay their respects to the ancient shrine, but after it was damaged in the flood of 1674, the ruling Matsudaira fuedal lord ordered it moved to it’s present location a little further from the banks of Lake Shinji.

The edges of this shrine are covered with all kinds of plants–it looks different in every season when I walk by it.


Nobody’s here except for me in in the reflection, and Izanami hidden out of sight in the honten beyond this space!


The omikuji fortune slips are only 20 yen here, and sold on an honor system. Drop in your change, then reach in and grab one.


This shrine is seldom visited enough that can tie your fortune slip directly to the shrine building instead of to a fence or tree branch.


Good old Taisha-tsukuri style! But what is that under the honten?


Why, it’s a horse… of course.


What I’m really curious about is what used to be here that these gaurdian dogs are still faithfully protecting. Holy trees are pretty common in Shinto worship, but now maybe it’s holy flowers growing out of this very large holy stump.


She’s seen better days.

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