I took the train back to where I left off yesterday. The climb to ChikuRinJi (T31) was a little tough but all in all a pleasant trip with sunny and windy conditions. There was an ensoku (field trip) from a girl's school at the temple. So I spent the last 500 meters of the walk saying "how are you?", "hallo" and "good morning" to dozens of 13 year old school girls.
I met up with Hara San at the temple. Although a robust and fit man at 60, he was looking pretty rough. He said his legs and feet hurt the most. He was returning home the next day from Kochi city. We decided to walk to ZenjiBuJi (T32) together. The going was slow because of Hara San's condition, but in all honesty it was good for me to slow down as well.
Hara San and I were walking when some flying thing ran into my chest. I only had time to catch a glimpse of it out of the corner of my eye before it fell to the pavement. At first I thought it might be a dragonfly because of it's size. But on closer inspection I could see that it was a giant wasp. I knew right away is was the killer wasp I had read about in National Geographic. I crouched over it to take a picture but Hara San warned me away.
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| The giant wasp at rest. Unlike the person whose hand it is sitting on. |
Osuzumebachi or Vespa mandarinia japonica is one of the nastiest hornets on the planet. Just a dozen of them can kill 20,000 European honey bees in a couple of hours. Then take the honey bee larvae back to feed to their larvae. The larvae in turn secrete a potent liquid that gives the scouts their phenomenal stamina. A sports drink based on the ingredients of this liquid has been marketed in Japan.
The most fascinating thing about these hornets is the defense that Japanese honey bees have evolved against them. The critical body temperature of Japanese honey bees is a couple of degrees higher than that of the giant hornet. When a scout hornet finds the honey bees' hive the bees mob it. Raising the hornet's body temperature past it's tolerance and thereby killing it. The scout never returns for reinforcements and the honey bees' hive remains undetected.
I'm sure it would have been a crime or at least forbidden for me to bring even a dead specimen back to America. So we left it there agitated and struggling to get up from the sidewalk. Hara San and I arrived at Zenjibuji around 3:pm. We were both pretty beat from the walk in the heat.
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| Me and Hara San at Zenjibuji on his last day as a henro |
After a short rest Hara San was going to take a taxi to Kochi. I phoned Rob and Satomi. They were about a kilometer behind us so I waited for them while Hara San departed. We then walked to SekkeiJi (T33). Rob and Satomi stayed over in a spare room at the temple. Actually it was an unused shrine with tatami (rush mat) floors. Satomi reserved me a room at a minshuku nearby.
The minshuku was rundown and my fellow roomies were truckers not henro. My feeling was that the Kamisan would take any clients to keep her business running. God bless her.
Thought for the day
It was too early to check-in so I dropped my pack and headed over to the "attractions" near Katsurahama beach. There is a fenced in shopping mall owned and operated by the city that has restaurants and gift shops. Past this is the beach area where there's a boardwalk and aquarium.
I was still short on omiage so I headed to the shops first. As a walking henro, I was a small fish to the shop owners. I didn't have much money and I couldn't carry much in my backpack. The real customers were the bus loads of henro that were brought here by the travel companies.
My problem with gift shops is that there's too much stuff to choose from. After visiting six shops that had almost the exact same 10 - 20 small trinkets that I was interested in, I was too worn out to purchase. So I decided to go to the aquarium first and then return for omiage later.
I was blessed with another ensoku (school outing) of about 400 students. Watching the behavior of high school students is fascinating. The young men and women in their own little groups. Pretending not to notice, but wanting to be noticed by their opposites. It's a form of non-interactive interaction. Although Japanese students are more subtle than American students, it's pretty much the same dance. Fun and nostalgic to watch, but glad to be past it.
The aquarium is like all things Japanese. Compact and well organized. They have a large variety of fish, sea mammals and even sea turtles. All seem to be well taken care of. I saw no animals with stress abrasions from the walls of their tanks and pens. The Japanese put so much care and attention into everything they do. I can imagine the keepers massaging feet, fins and flippers and playing Mozart at night to keep them happy. It sounds like a joke, but based upon my experiences in Japan it's very probable.
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| This turtle is the gate keeper at the aquarium. | Fingers, sardines, what's the difference? |
I love turtles (who doesn't?) and the aquarium had a large variety. It was worth the cost of admission just to see them. My favorite turtle exhibition was the large tank shown in the image, above right. It contained not only sea turtles but also large groupers and bonito. For 100 yen you could buy a cup of sardines to feed to them with a pair of waribashi (wood chopsticks). I had one chopstick snapped in half by a turtle. The bonito would actually jump out of the water to get the sardines. They made no attempt to be accurate either so you had to constantly watch them out of the corner of your eye.
The seal show was excellent. For a handful of fish the seal jumped through a hoop while balancing on a drum and then shot baskets with a basketball. I was somewhat familiar with this routine. Having worked evenings and weekends for years as a software engineer for roughly the same incentive.
After the seal show was the penguin walk. The keepers let out a couple of penguins to walk around so that the visitors can take pictures with them. The woman minding them said that the one in my photo below is only a year old and is high strung. One look at the nicks and scores on her forearms where the little bugger had bitten her confirmed this.
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| Talented seal. Same name as girl who pulled my beard. | The penguin walk. |
The dolphin show was good too, but a little sad. Dolphins are open ocean swimmers who range great distances to feed and breed. It doesn't seem right for them to be trapped in a pen about half the size of an olympic sized swimming pool. That being said, exposing the public to wild animals in a peaceful way can be a service to those still in the wild.
I went back to the shops and bought a handful of "Sakamoto Ryoma" key chains. I'm really enjoying this day off. The weather is cool and mild. My mind is getting a break from the daily stress of walking through crowded streets while trying to stay on course.
The hotel was fantastic. The hostesses were pleasant and polite. There was much joking and laughter coming from the kitchen and the service room on my floor. There were two generations of owners on site. The grandma who could be in her 80's and the daughter perhaps in her 60's. Both were very friendly and I could tell by the amount of respect they received from their coworkers that they also ran a tight ship.
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| Mother and daughter owners of Fukumimi | Fully stocked lobster pens |
The ofuro (bath) took up most of the top floor. With three different baths and a sauna room. All this looked out from a sun room onto the bay. I fell asleep in the hot ofuro and then again in the massage chair in the lounge adjacent to the bath. I had to be awakened for dinner.
The Fukumimi is famous for it's lobster. They served a boiled half-lobster, shrimp, 4 types of sashimi, lobster soup, clam soup, tsukemono, seafood tempura and ice cream for desert. It was really decadent especially for a henro.
Youko San admonished me later for staying at such a luxurious place. Suffering and self-denial are central to the pilgrimage for most people. That's fine, but I didn't have to go looking for it. I was walking the pilgrimage, suffering sought me out. So when I had a chance to spoil myself, if even for a day, I did. I accepted both suffering and pleasure equally, knowing that neither is permanent. (Not a bad philosophical rationalization for living it up, don't you think?)
Thought for the day
Went out to ogle the lobster pens before breakfast. There were also separate cement tanks for bonito, scallops and oysters. I noticed that these tanks stood on cement pillars over a much larger tank below ground level. I looked in this tank and saw 4 large sea turtles. Beautiful animals. Dark green and turquoise markings on their shells and heads. After a few seconds of admiration it dawned on me that these may not be pets, but rather a part of the menu.
First of all, I've learned not to judge a society by what it eats and how it eats it. (I do draw the line at cannibalism though.) However, I was curious so I casually asked the Obasan if they served turtle soup to their guests. She said "no, we just have them as pets to show our guests and their children." I accepted this answer, but still had the feeling that this was a pat answer given to foreigners and other "outsiders". With the aquarium less than a kilometer away it seemed like a wasted expense. Plus the sunken tank was not visible or easily accessible from the lobby. Regardless, the true lives of these open ocean creatures ended when they were captured and put into the tank. Soup or no soup.
The weather was muggy with little wind. I reached TaneMaJi (T34) by 9:AM. The main attraction is a sculpture of Yakushi the Buddha of Medicine. It was carved by a Korean sculptor in 578 A.D. Imagining all the pain, faith and hope of the pilgrims who have visited the temple over the centuries to pray for relief from their sufferings or those of their loved ones was very humbling. Knowing that westerners have only been allowed to visit these sites for the last 150 years made me feel somewhat like an outsider or at least once removed from it's full cultural meaning. I suppose it is like the difference between the emotions felt by an American and a Japanese when viewing the Declaration of Independence.
I made it to my next reservation at the Business Inn Tosa by 12:30. Again, too early to check in, so I dropped my pack and started walking to KiyoTakuJi (T35). The path to it doubles back to Tosa. This area was a little tricky since it is a crossroads for the local highway (39) and the Tokushima expressway. So I did some wandering around and had to ask for directions a couple of times. Once I got past these and the spidery roads that surround them it was fairly straightforward. There is a beautiful view of the ocean and the river valley from this temple.
The sky cleared up and the wind picked up just in time to make the trip back to the inn a pleasant walk. Not having my full backpack on also helped. I stopped along the trail just before entering the town. I sat for perhaps 20 minutes watching a farmer and his wife plant rice in their flooded field. I was fascinated by the machine he was using. It looked like a small tracker on thin, heavily treaded tires. Flats of rice seedlings were mounted on a large slanted rack on the back. The farmer lowered the rack to ground level. As the farmer drove along four piston like arms (driven by a rotary cam) at the rear pushed the seedlings through the bottom of the flats and into the soft mud in neat little rows. I looked at the farmer's wife, smiled, pointed at the machine and gave her two thumbs up. Her broad smile and slight bow told me that she fully approved of this device as well. She then waived me over and generously gave me a bunch of horensou (spinach) as osettai. It was an excellent gift because meals weren't included in my reservation at Tosa Inn. She told me she had seen an American (all westerners are Americans) with a Japanese woman walking a couple of days ago. I asked if either was wearing a henro kasa (henro hat). She said no, so I guessed it to be Rob and Satomi. I then asked her if she ever drove the tractor. She laughed and said her husband enjoys it too much and only lets her plant the hard to get at places by hand. (What a guy!) We both laughed and I thanked her again for the osettai before heading back to the inn.
After checking in, taking a bath and doing my laundry I headed out to buy some dressing for my spinach dinner. Because it was getting late I stopped into a little udon shop for a quick bite on my way back from the market. It was more of a local watering hole, but I sat myself down and ordered a bowl of noodles. There were six people in this narrow shop and before too long they were asking me where I was from and what brought me to their city. I told them I was an American henro and was staying at the Tosa Inn. This pleased them greatly.
The couple sitting next to me told me that their son lives in San Francisco. The kamisan then asked me if I liked cucumbers. I said I did and she brought me three from behind the counter. I thanked her and told her I would like to buy a round for her customers. (Generosity is contagious.) This was of course met with objections, but I stuck to my guns. The kamisan and her husband then joined us with drinks in hand on the customer side of the counter. It turns out the couple whose son is living in San Francisco grew the cucumbers the kamisan gave to me and insisted that they return home and bring me back a bag of rice that they grew as well. I got out of this by explaining that it would be too heavy to carry with me. This seemed to work, but they did give me three more cucumbers. All in all by the time I left there I had six cucumbers and three onigiri with tsukemono (pickles). Their friendliness and generosity really lifted my spirits. I don't think I could have thanked them enough for that.
Thought for the day
Shoryuji means the temple of the Green Dragon. I found out why as I headed up the coast along the back of the mountains that form the peninsula it is situated on. It was a grueling up and down walk along a hot highway. I was able to feel a little wind when cresting a hill, but would soon lose it when walking into a hollow. Regardless, there was little traffic and the views were fantastic. It reminded me of the Nepali coast on the north side of Kaui island in Hawaii.
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| One of the beautiful views of the coast from the back of the dragon. |
I arrived at the turn off to the Asahi Ryokan just after 1:PM. Fortunately it was well marked otherwise I may have walked right past it. The Asahi is on the shore in a small fishing village that is about 750 meters down from the highway. However, the road leading down to it is 2km or better. I looked for a shortcut path between the switchbacks but found none. I couldn't help but think what the climb out of here would be like tomorrow.
Once in the village, all was good though. I was again early so I bought a coke at a vending machine and headed to the shore to find a place to eat the lunch given to me last night by the kamisan at the udon shop.
I then got out my postcards to write home. Two teenage boys walked by with nets and buckets. I asked them what they were fishing for. They showed me the contents of their buckets. They were full of tiny shrimp and fish. They said that they were going to make tempura from them tonight. I congratulated them on their fine catch. I then promptly fell asleep in the shade for about an hour and a half.
I woke up feeling completely refreshed and headed to the Asahi. The kamisan welcomed me and showed me to my room. She then showed me where the laundry room and bath were. She said my bath would be ready at 4:PM and dinner at 6:PM.
I did my laundry and the kamisan took me up on the roof to hang it out to dry. The day had changed from muggy and windless to cool and windy. She said the clothes should be dry before dinner. She was right.
The kamisan seemed very busy and when she came to my room with my robe I mentioned that she looked so. She then told me that her husband and son will be out fishing until late this evening and then going out again at 2:30 AM. So she had to get their dinners and tomorrow's meals ready for them. I commiserated with her and complimented her on her "genkiness".
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| The view from my window at the Asahi Ryokan |
More often than not I had a hard time with the local dialect in Shikoku, but the kamisan's speaking rhythm and mannerisms were very easy to understand. I mentioned this to her during dinner. She said that a couple of years ago her husband hired a young man from Korea to help on his boat. She said at first it was very difficult to communicate but by the time he returned home six months later their communication was near perfect, even though the young man's Japanese was still rough.
As we were chatting she asked me about breakfast. I told her that I would prefer a bentou (lunch) box rather than breakfast. This cheered her up because she could make it right after dinner and not have to wake up at 6:AM to fix my breakfast. Although she certainly would have had I not requested a bentou.
The wind continued to blow into the evening. I left my window slightly open to allow it to sing me to sleep.
Thought for the day
© Copyright 2006 James Knighten