The Kojiki a.t.b.b. – Intoxicating the Serpent – Part 1

Click here for a reminder of why Izanagi is bothered by this.



I’ve alluded to some other Kojiki stories here, but as stated before, these are meant as introduction to the stories that take place in the San’in region. There is much more to learn!



Continued in Part 2!

 

Entertainment fit for the gods: Iwami Kagura

Kagura is a big thing out here in the San’in region. Iwami Kagura, from western Shimane, is especially well known for its costumes. Each one costs thousands of dollars (and tens of thousands of yen!), but I got a chance to see a bunch of them up close and personal.

Photos on a computer screen don’t do justice to the textures!

The eyes roll as the dancer moves!

Note the mirrors.

(This kind of mask sort of served as the inspiration for the oni-like inhabitants of Yomi I drew–though my version looks a bit more like a Muppet.)

Can you tell which one is me, and which one is Tanya, my Russian CIR friend?

These are some of the heaviest costumes I’ve ever worn, but the performers manage to dance surprisingly fast in them.

Can you spot the CIRs?

I’ll start posting the Kojiki manga about this beast early this month. Be on the look out for it!

For those of you living in or around Matsue, there will be a chance to see an Iwami Kaguri group from Hamada City performing at the Shimane Civic Center on February 16th!

 

Negiman: Episode 1

Given Tokyo’s reputation for having been victimized by many a large monster, several people have asked if I’ve been troubled by any monsters out here in the San’in region.

Yes. We apsolutely have a giant monster problem. Here is proof:

Translation:
0:10 — The Japanese Archipelago
0:16 — The San’in Region
0:20 — Daisen
0:23 — The City of Yonago
0:30 — A leek field
2:08 — Negiman
2:10 — What is he?!
2:16 — …looks kinda like a leek.

Stay tuned for more Negiman episodes as he takes on local foes! …Maybe. The future episodes are longer and have more dialog to translate, but more interesting content.

 

Give us your thoughts, and make them inspiring

I quite often get asked for my 感想 (kansou), or impressions, thoughts, and reflections. As illustrated, school visits usually end with a few parting thoughts from the students and from my fellow CIRs and I. Usually things like, “I learned/enjoyed ____. I hope we can _____ in the future. It is good to _____.” I try to keep them short and simple, but that’s usually because I’m afraid my ability to speak Japanese will disappear when I’m put on the spot.

I’ve stopped bothering to keep track of how many times I’ve been on the news or in the newspaper. Sometimes it’s an interview for the sake of international exchange, but other times I’m simply an easy target when I’m an obviously foreign person attending uniquely Japanese events. I am also a recurring guest on a short radio program called “Heisei no Hearn”, in which a couple other Western CIRs and I talk about our own experiences of Matsue (seeing as we’re living here as foreigners like Lafcadio Hearn did, but in the modern Heisei period). It’s nice when the interviewers ask direct questions like where I’m from or how long I’ve been practicing wearing a kimono or what I had for lunch, but then there is the dreaded kansou question.

What are my impressions…? Umm… ummmm…

Even if the answer is “nothing in particular” or “it was fun” I always feel like I need to give them a bit more than that to work with. After all, I am a public employee, so I might as well give the public something interesting–I just cross my fingers and hope that whatever I babble on about will be intelligible.

 

How to prevent your castle from getting invaded, Tip #2

Simple idea: Build a wall!

Horio Yoshiharu, the founder of Matsue, established the city around the castle–which even today among multi-story buildings is the highest structure in the city–and the only remaining original castle in the San’in region. It’s a castle build on a hill with a stone wall, which most castles in the San’in region were not (notice which castles aren’t around anymore!).

By wall, I don’t mean a single wall–rather, the moat is lined by a wall, higher and higher levels of the hill have their own walls, and the castle tower itself has a base of stone. They wind around the hill, separating different sections and levels that had different defense and storage purposes back in the Edo era.

Did you know?
The entire walled area can be considered Matsue Castle, though many of the outermost gates have since been demolished. What we would consider Matsue Castle proper is merely the tower, one of several buildings that had special functions. Nor was this the feudal lord’s dwelling place–he lived just south of the castle hill, in close proximity to where government affairs were (and still are) handled. Castles like this were designed as a safe getaway place if he needed to take cover from an attack on the city.

Three wall building methods
The stones used were all taken from Nakaumi (the lake bordering Matsue to the east), and then cut and arranged according to the following methods:

Can you find all three types here?

Besides just making it hard to scale the hill unless you have an army of monkeys, parts of the wall were also designed to give the defending armies the upper hand. For instance, a large square platform called the Katen (firing point) was located along the stairs from the forefront gate. Defending armies could easily shoot at attackers from this point, as the attackers would have little choice but to use the stairs.

The thick brown lines are where there are stone walls.

Speaking of stairs, they were built unevenly so as to make it harder for attackers to run up them. The stairs from the forefront gate at the southeast corner are now a little more conducive to visitors (although still a trek if you try to run up them!), but some stairs, like these on the north side, are still a good challenge if anybody really wanted to try to attack.

It seems to me this quiet set of stairs on the west side has been redone, but they’re still a little too steep to run up them easily.

So… rocks. Walls. That’s great. End of story?
Wrong! What in the world are you supposed to make of this carving?

The answer: sanctioned graffiti!
In some ways, these were the builders’ way of signing their work, or possibly for marking which boulders were to go in which places, as many of the carvings where found along the wall marked below:

Again, the thick brown lines are the stone walls.

They may have also been used to keep track of events and construction associated with the wall, as there is one location marked with “安永八” which most likely marks the eighth year of the An’ei period (1779 a.d.), when part of the wall was reconstructed after heavy rains the previous year had damaged it.

The symbol of a weight in the above example was particularly popular, because it wasn’t the mark of a worker, but of the overlord. It was a family symbol bestowed on the Horio clan from Yoshiharu’s first lord, Toyotomi Hideyoshi (there would be two more clan symbols added later). While samurai clans each had their own crests, family symbols were a little different, as lower ranking families may have them as well. Unfortunately, that’s about the extent of my knowledge about their use, but here are some examples of the common symbols carved on Matsue Castle’s walls:

I find it really funny that someone is using the symbol of onmyouji Abe no Seimei (the star).

You might notice on the map that the wall doesn’t run all the way around the castle hill, but if you were visiting in person, you would notice the forest around the north and west sides of the hill right away, lining the edges of the moat. Some of the individual parts of the forested area had other functional purposes, but the main purpose of the little woods was for defense.
Why go with trees when you can have such a cleverly designed wall? Well, trees are cheaper, and stone walls have a high labor and material cost, and establishing a whole town around your new castle is rather costly, as well as the moving process. In short, they ran out of budget. Thanks to this lack of money, we get to enjoy a number of trees that are hundreds of years old!

 

Almost too pretty to use, unless you’d expect nothing less

One of the specialty products of Matsue is 八雲塗 (Yakumonuri), aka Yakumo Laquerware. Laquerware has been popular in Japan since the Edo era, as the craftsmen typically were hired to make speciality dishes and utensils for the samurai (the top of the social food chain–though not always the most wealthy!). Around the start of the Meiji Era (1868-1912), one such craftsman named Sakata Heiichi invented the Yakumo method (named after a town south of Matsue, which has since merged with Matsue).

This method requires a series of applying laquer layers and decorative powders (such as gold or silver), and polishing said layers. It requires about ten years to learn. One of the things that makes Yakumo laquerware special is that with time, the gloss becomes more translucent and the colors become more vivid. In 1982, it was designated as a Shimane Traditional Local Craft.

Not that I can tell you much more than that! I’ve found that my talents lie more in 2D art than in 3D art, so I’d best leave this to the masters. While I can’t tell the difference between someone who has mastered the art of laquerware and someone who is simply much better than I am, there are plenty of laquerware artisans in the area.

On an outing to Hirata (an old town facing the Sea of Japan that has since merged with Izumo), I stumbled upon the Shitsugei no Watanabe monthly art show. While Mr. Watanabe himself has been producing laquerware since he was a youth, Mrs. Watanabe gathers works from several local artists and hosts these shows from their home/workshop.

The entrance and welcome sign

The garden in late November

This is the true meaning of an open house, isn’t it?

A selection of chopstick rests

Lots of art to welcome the Year of the Snake

Watanabe-san even had coffee, tea, and a few fine dishes to serve her guests! Sweet red beans, daikon radish, konyaku (a gelatin-like block made from potatoes), fish cakes, and orange peels might not sound appealing to Western palates, but I found it rather nice and a step above everyday fare.

There were more dishes to be found in Hirata than just that! All around the neighborhood, there are lifesize displays of scenes from the Kojiki, sculpted out of dishes!

Look! It’s Izanagi and Izanami being creative!

That’s enough about dishes for now. For now!

 

Youkai: Ushi-Oni

The Ushi-Oni (“cow demon”) is said to be found in many different areas of Japan, but the San’in region is haunted by an aquatic version of this monster.

According to The Obakemono Project:

On the coasts of Northern Kyūshū and the San’in Region adjacent to the Sea of Japan, the ushi-oni is thought to dwell in the ocean. Its appearance on the shore is preceded by that of a woman, who may be the monster called nure-onna or iso-onna or a transformation of the ushi-oni itself. She holds a child which she presses on passers-by, asking them to take it and give it something to eat. In the usual ubume pattern, the child becomes enormously heavy and stone-like when held, impeding the unfortunate person’s movements and giving the ushi-oni a chance to attack.

Given its proximity to water, the San’in region has long held many beliefs about youkai that live in the ocean. Similarly, there are many Kami-sama associated with safe sea travel and fishing.

One the JR Sakai Line in Tottori, (the train line between Yonago and Sakaiminato), many of the stations are themed around different youkai. This is how I first learned of this particular one–so as to say I have not had personal experience.

 

Mushakoujii-senke (Warrior Style Tea Ceremony)

Wow, hand-written typos. Sorry about that–apparently my English has been suffering more than I thought. Or I just wrote faster than my brain could think.

This was my experience with this particular school of tea, which was held in the Meimei-an. I’ve read about the tea ceremony, sure, but that doesn’t make me prepared for the practical elements of attending a ceremony–like the terrible embarrassment of not having brought my own utensils for partaking of the wagashi (confection).

Then again, I think I was placed towards the front of the room not only for my own viewing purposes, but perhaps for everyone’s amusement. The ceremonies during the Daichakai are for everyone to try out and experience different styles of tea, after all, so unlike ceremonies you might be personally invited to, there were 12~15 guests all being served tea by not only the host, but the host’s assistants. Given the occasion I think I was forgiven for not having any formal practice (most of my tea ceremony experience has been rather laid back an informal), but I’d like to change that while I’m living in a place with such a rich tea culture.

 

“The Lucky Improvising Samurai”

This is a story from Misasa, out in Tottori.

Way back in the Edo when class-based fuedalism was strictly enforced, there was once a villager who admired samurai, and hoped to someday be one. What with the laws and class division, however, this was an unattainable dream.

One day while taking a hike up the mountain pass, he took a break and and noticed a samurai seated among the rocks. Knowing that being rude to a samurai could cost him, he made sure to great him politely. “Hello there, Samurai-san. Nice weather today, isn’t it?”

However, the samurai made no reply. The villager ventured to speak again. “Hello there, Samurai-san!”

Still there came no answer. Upon further inspection, the villager noticed that the samurai had died. Well, this is a fine chance if I’ll ever get one! Since the guy’s dead, I might as well fulfill my dream to be a samurai, he thought, and switched his clothes with that of the deceased warrior. As he started back down the mountain, he noticed the local overlord’s procession passing through the streets. Oh man, if I go down there and get caught pretendin’ to be a samurai, I’m a goner for sure!

He made a break for the fields instead of the village, but he did not go unnoticed. The overlord was curious about the samurai he did not recognize. When they caught up to him in the fields, he sent his aide to inquire about the warrior. “You there!” the aide shouted. “State your name!”

Aw, shoot. Now what do I do?

Looking around for any sort of name, he noticed some greens (aona) and dried strips of gourd (kanpyou) in the fields around him. “I am Aona Kanpyou,” he replied.

“I see. Thank you,” replied the aide, who reported to the overlord.

“Ah, Aona Kanpyou. I see,” said the overlord thoughtfully. “Have him to come along to my residence as one of my retainers.”

In no position to refuse, Kanpyou the improvised samurai went along. He was wined and dined that evening and given a room right next to that of the overlord, which was filled with bows and arrows and treasures. Excitedly, he tried one of the bows out.

It just so happened that there was someone who meant to kill the overlord that night, but when Kanpyou let the arrow he was trying out fly, it went through the screen and struck the attacker just before he reached his target. “You saved me,” the startled overlord said. “But how did you know he would attack?”

“It was nothing special, My Lord. I have two eyes, you see–and I only sleep with one of them at once. Until the middle of the night I let only my right eye sleep, and for the rest of the night I let my left eye sleep. That way I can always see what is going on.”

“How marvelously prepared!” he exclaimed. “I shall bestoy on you a great reward!”

Uh oh, this is goin’ a lil’ too well, Kanpyou thought.

The next day he also wound up staying at the overlord’s residence again, and the following day a villager came to make a request of the lord. There had been a very large snake in the pond terrorizing people, and he hoped that the government could step in and help get rid of it. “Very well,” asked the overlord. “Who will go rid them of the beast?”

Geez, that sounds terrible! thought Kanpyou. If this is the kind of thing samurai hafta do, I better get away while I still have the chance. “I will go, My Lord!”

Very pleased, the overlord consented. Before he left, Kanpyou packed his things, including a couple bags of rice flour he purchased. Instead of going alone to make a getaway, however, a few other retainers went along and showed him the way to the pond. Aw, great, he grumbled, With these guys around I can’t make a break for it. Now what am I supposed to do?

Just then, a gurgling sound came from the pond, and a gigantic snake lifted its head out, then charged towards them. Thoroughly frightened, Kanpyou wanted to get away, but there would be no time. Instead, he got the idea to throw the bags of rice flour at it. The snake caught them in its mouth, and it just so happened that the flour got struck in the beast’s throat and choked it. When it fell down dead, Kanpyou breathed a sigh of relief and inspected it.

“Well, that’s that. It’s dead now! Go on, take it back home!” he told the others, who happily did so and told the overlord of Kanpyou’s victory. The overlord rewarded him yet again, but Kanpyou thought, If I hafta do this day in an’ day out, then the samurai life isn’t for me. I’m getting outta this gig before it’s too late!

In the middle of that night, he escaped. That’s the end of the story. Nothing else to it.

But here’s some pictures from modern-day Misasa:

 

Typical New Year Activities: Food and games

As the last of my New Year posts, I have a lot of traditional food to report on.

Soba: Buckwheat noodles
Long noodles signify long life, so it’s good luck to eat these on the last night of the year. Udon noodles are also acceptable, but the Izumo region is moreso known for its soba, which as more of the wheat plant, and is therefore healthier and has a deeper flavor. At the Izumo soba restuarants around here, it’s commonly served in three dishes with different condiments on each (things like seaweed, daikon radish, katsuo (fish flakes), and raw egg are common).

Click for a blog page about Izumo soba and other local specialties (English)

Soba making parties also seem to be a common end of year party activity, and I got invited along to one last month out in Inbei, a rural part of Matsue to the south. Making soba may seem like a simple process (making the dough, rolling it flat, slicing it thinly, boiling it, serving it with fresh condiments), but it requies specialized tools and having an expert on hand helps.

The soba I cut all turned out a little thick…

Mochi and zoni: Sticky rice cakes, and soup made with them
I neglected to take pictures at this, but I joined in a mochi-making party at Matsue’s history museum–a common December activity throughout Japan. Everyone took turns using a wooden mallet to pound the rice in a special basin.

Not my photo, but pretty much like this.

Experienced old men get a very good rhythm together, with one pounding and one turning the mixture (and I have yet to see any fingers get whacked). My favorite person to watch was a little boy who looked about 3 or 4 or shouted with aggressive fighting spirit the whole time.

Inside, we gathered around tables to roll the cakes in flour and pound them flat, then covered them in soy bean powder (it’s sweet) before eating them. If they sit for a while they get hard, but when they’re fresh they’re soft, chewy, and stretchy–and easy to choke on if you don’t chew carefully!

Mochi is a traditional New Year decoration, too. A couple of them get set up on the family altar inside traditional homes as part of the Kagami Mochi. By the 11th of January or so when the New Year festivities wind down to a close, they’ll be so hard that you can break them apart with a hammar and eat the pieces.

Mochi is the main ingrediant in zoni, a soup eaten at New Years. Originally a meal for warriors, the ingredients vary from region to region, but the basic idea is to eat mochi in a broth with some other flavors. When I had it, it was more like typical zenzai (a specialty dessert of the Izumo region with azuki (sweet red beans).

O-sechi: Cuisine that doesn’t require cooking
It’s considered bad luck to cook for the first three days of the new year, so while some families still make their own o-sechi in the days leading up to the new year, many restaurants and stores had been promotions for o-sechi you can order instead. More info here on the Wiki page.

I got to enjoy a wonderful array of it on January 2nd at a party one of my supervisors invited me and the other CIRs to out at his old home in Izumo. It looked pretty much like you’d picture a traditional house party–sitting on cushions on the tatami mats, surrounded by sliding screens and seasonally decorated walls, and an array of food to eat over the course of several hours while everyone talks and plays games.

The shells at the front are from a game that was played in the Heian courts roughly a thousand years ago, called Kai-awase (shell matching) or E-awase (picture matching). It’s like Memory, only with pretty painted scenes from the Tale of Genji on seashells. This a rather old set which we admired instead of playing with.

We opened the stack of trump cards to play games like Babanuki and Daihinmin, and the stack of old cards next to that was for Hanafuda, though a couple cards were missing so we skipped that.

In the back was a nice, unopened pack of Utagaruta or Hyakunin Isshuu from way back when Nintendo specialized in printed games! Well, we opened it. Karuta is a typical New Years game spanning a few hundred years of popularity, in which a set of cards are spread out and someone reads proverbs from a corresponding set of cards. The first person to grab the corresponding card takes it, and person with the biggest stack at the end wins.

Utagaruta is a version played with an old set of Heian era poetry called the Hyakunin Isshuu (a hundred people, one poem each), so it’s commonly called by that name, too. The reader reads a poem on one card, and the players look for the ending verse. You can listen for the words, or if you have the poem memorize, you can grab it as soon as you know what poem it is.

At first I thought it would be hard if you don’t know the poetry, but after I got used to it (and started to memorize where certain cards were), I got a lot faster and came from behind to win the game. Maybe I should start studying this poetry! After all, I was mostly listening for pronunciation since classical Japanese isn’t easy to understand right away. Nevertheless, we paused the game several times for some thoughtful interpretation of the poems.

Finally, today (January 7th) is known as Jinjitsu (Human Day), when Nanakusagayu (seven herb gruel) is eaten. It day for both being kind to humans, and kind to your stomach after all that mochi and o-sechi!

Click for the recipe (Japanese)

The herbs:

Seri: Japanese parsley
Nazuna: Shepherd’s purse
Gogyou: Jersey cudweed
Hakobera: Chickweed/stitchwort
Suzujiro: Turnip
Suzuna: Daikon radish
Hotoke-no-za: Henbit deadnettle

Take care of your tummies, everyone, and have a good 2013!