A week ago from this moment, I was in this exact same location and position: sitting on my bed at NYC, back leaned up against the wall, laptop rested on my thighs, typing my weekly reflection. But the week that I have just experienced has made every other aspect of this moment different than last week’s. Traveling to Hiroshima, Miyajima, Kyoto, Osaka, Nara and all the experiences I had in each of those cities has completely changed my view of Japan. After spending the first two weeks in Tokyo, this week has shown me there is so much more to this country than what I had once thought. It was almost as if I was arriving here for the first time again. Every place we went to was teeming with tradition, culture, personality, and an undeniable charm. Week 3 is a story of experiencing unforgettable beauty.
If the word beauty were to be turned into an island, it would be Miyajima. The bright orange torii right off the shore, the steep flight of stairs culminating in a red five-story pagoda, the rows of traditional and rural housing, and the dozens of deer roaming the streets all contributed to a unique feel that was starkly different than any other place I’ve been. I will never forget sitting on a stone wall by the beach with my feet hanging over the edge, watching the sun slowly disappear behind the green hills: a moment of relaxation and tranquility that I had yet to experience while in Japan.
Just prior to Miyajima, we were at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum. The atomic bomb is something that we all hear a lot about, but often it’s in broad strokes: death tallies, radiation levels, or square miles of land destroyed. This museum did the exact opposite. It told the stories of individual victims in excruciating detail. At every turn, there was a photo, painting, or anecdote that would make your eyes well up in sadness, anger, anguish, and even guilt. There was no denying the sheer power and heaviness of the museum. With that being said, it is still a place of hope for a better future: a future defined by peace in which such suffering could never occur. Making my first paper crane, a symbol of hope created by a victim of the bombing, and dropping it down the side of Orizuru Tower was an extremely powerful moment and will forever be etched into my memory.
The next day we went to Himeji Castle, a castle complex from the 14th century that has been restored over the years. The mainstay sits atop a hill, as it was made to look like a flying white heron. The inside was completely wooden and filled with origin stories of every minute detail. Making it to the top of the building revealed windows overlooking Himeji, allowing you to see how this traditional site was preserved amidst an urban city.
We were then off to Kyoto, where we saw an abundance of shrines and temples. The one that made the greatest impact on me was Myoshinji Taizoin. There wasn’t only beauty to be found within the grounds of the temple; there was also beauty in the teachings given to us by the Buddhist priest. He explained that Zen Buddhism is all about experiences. Actions aren’t done for personal gain: they are done simply to be done. He also told us the metaphor about catching a catfish in a small gourd, which symbolizes every individual’s need to find meaning in life in their own way. Even if you’re not Buddhist, I believe adopting these ideas to some degree can lead to a much more rewarding and fulfilling life. The entire experience at this temple, from the traditional Buddhist lunch, to the exquisite gardens and ponds, to the Buddhist priest’s talks, was truly incredible and moving.
The free weekend then started with a trip to a ryokan on the outskirts of Osaka. The surrounding village was one of the most rural places I had ever been to. Rice fields gave way to bamboo forests and green mountains that poked into the clouds above. The croaking of frogs and the buzzing of cicadas acted as a constant soundtrack. A tiny stand-alone takoyaki shop, only open on weekends, served as the singular place that sold food in the entire village. People were few and far between. That is until we saw a billowing tower of smoke next to one of the shrines. As we approached, we saw a group of around thirty people, mostly elderly, who were either staring up into a ginkgo tree or in the shrine praying. We clearly were not the intended demographic for whatever this event was. We decided to walk through and make a quick exit. However, upon leaving we were chased down by an elderly Japanese man with a wide grin on his face. We had no idea what he was saying but he had such an aura of warmth about him that we didn’t need any words to understand that he wanted us to come back. From the few English words he did say, we picked up “hot water.” This was enough to draw us back in. We then watched as a kannushi put sake and various seasonings into a cauldron of boiling water. He proceeded to dip a bushel of bamboo leaves into the pot. He suddenly yanked the leaves out of the water and vigorously splashed the boiling liquid onto us, with each thrust accompanied by a loud “Aye!” We were then each given a bundle of the bamboo leaves and a cup of sake. The amount of affection and hospitality we received, after we had essentially intruded on their ceremony, was extremely touching and beautiful. It was a moment of human compassion that transcended language and cultural barriers: a truly unforgettable experience.
In some ways, this week flew by, and in other ways, it felt like a long journey. We did so much that there was little time to stop and reflect. It was new experience after new experience. But now, looking back, I've come to realize that my perception of Japan has deeply changed. I’ve now seen a side of the country that is very much grounded in tradition, something that I was not exposed to in Tokyo. And this tradition is absolutely and utterly beautiful, inside and out. This week made me fall in love with Japan even more than I already was. I’m sad to see it end.
Week 3 Gallery
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