Matsuyama Part II: Claustrophobia and Ojiisan Guides

This is the second half of my spring break trip, for part one read here! The second night in the Hostel we ventured down to the kitchen area to socialize and eat our gourmet convenience store dinners. Talking with the owner about things to do around the area he told us about an interesting hike that passes through a bamboo forest, some old Buddhist shrines eventually leading to an underpass and temple.

View from the top of the hill.

     Naturally this sounded like an adventure I'd want to pursue, so the next morning map in hand we left in search of the trail. We passed the designated landmarks he had kindly circled for us on a map, a shrine, a parking lot, large tennis courts. This all seemed relatively suburban, well maintained and almost quaint like we'd stumbled upon some type of country club. However as the tennis courts faded into the background the population started to dwindle, rice paddies replaced roads, large stalks of bamboo the tiny geometric houses, and the monotone whine of the cicada the rush of passing cars. When we had all but been engulfed in the bamboo forest and long winding road peaking through the overgrowth was forever smiling face of a Buddha. 

Fancy meetin' you here Buddha.

     I wondered why they would just leave a Buddha statue in the middle of nowhere. Was he welcoming passing cars into town? Was the decrepit stair case beside him that led to nowhere some metaphor? I didn't know all I knew was that as we continued down the road more and more decrepit, weather worn statues popped out between the bamboo.  They'd hang over the road with their twisted and missing limbs, plaster flaking off to reveal wire skeletons and inner workings. A small bridge led to off to the side and we decided to follow it. It opened into one of the most interesting shrines I've ever seen. Hundreds of carved faces greeted us, all starring up at the beaming golden mandala in the shrine's center.

     I had never seen anything like it and no signs in Japanese or English were around to describe it. Just a small and aged shrine in the middle of a long dusty road. It gave the whole area an eerie aura like i'd just wandered into someones own back yard. Or if I touched something I wasn't supposed to the carved faces might turn angry.

     Off to the corner was a large statue of the starving Buddha, incense burning at his crossed legs. and further down as I left the shrine and began to explore the area around it, decrepit statues peaked out between the overgrowth. It was beautiful, creepy, chilling, and wonderful all at the same time.

     However Japan has a way of showing me my own limitations, abilities and in this case, heart crippling and irrational phobias. ^.^" As we left the shrine and continued our hike we found an "under pass" or at least that's what it said in Japanese. And also what the hostel owner had told us.

Just an under pass

An under pass from Hell.

     We entered the "under pass" and were greeting by pitch darkness. No light flickered in the cave walls (lets stop pretending it's just an under pass now!) only the glowing sun from the entrance revealed a line of tiny red capped Buddhas snaked down the middle of the passage.

The infamous entrance to the "underpass"

As we journeyed further into the tunnel the walls grew thinner until they opened up into a large inner chamber.

What I expected to see in this chamber was another chubby smiling Buddha. What stared back and my friends and I  however were four snarling statues of anthropomorphic demons. 

Their back drop? 

Murals depicting the Buddhist rendition of Hell.

And let me tell you from the looks of it, Buddhist Hell is no picnic.

No smiles to be found.

     It was probably a few minutes after that that my claustrophobic, superstitious and sometimes highly irrational mind had had all it could take. I couldn't stand to be in the cave any longer, whether it was the weight of the statues' twisted and gnarled stares or the ground above my head something struck a down right primal cord within me. And as we walked to the end of the cave (okay I ran)  it was like we'd resurfaced, returned from some backwards and foreign place no human was supposed to set foot in.

     It was a side of Buddhism that shocked me, as it most likely was intended to. And as I tried to steady my shaking hands and wipe tears off my face I thought for a moment how something that I assumed was so peace-minded could enact from me such an intense reaction.

I regained my composure, with the help of my friends (who I had thoroughly embarrassed myself in front of) and took in my new surroundings. We had surfaced in the middle of an old temple. And in the spring sunshine I could hear the whine of cicadas mixing with the low hum of a Buddhist monk's chants and smell the comforting aroma of burning incense and age.

We explored and found an entire wall of origami cranes in various sizes and colors pouring down like cascading rainbows. A room in which  lanterns, bird houses, and dials grew from the ceiling  intermixing with talismans and colored curtains lining the entrance in sun-bleached shades of purple, red, yellow and green. 

     And in the middle of the Temple grounds was an old man with a bicycle who as I came down the steps smiled at me like he had known me my entire life, if not before.

And then he spoke to me in quick and mumbled Japanese, 

"Good Afternoon. Where are you from?"

      He asked us where we were headed and when he learned of our plans (to have Hanami in the near by park) escorted us all the way there all the while pushing his bicycle along besides us making polite conversation.

     Once we arrived in the park we said our good bye's and thank you's and I watch him and his bicycle fade away around the corner.

Call me a romantic or say I have a slight inclination towards sappiness but in that small series of events something happened. I was reminded in the wonderful dichotomy of the world. Everything is double sided and there cannot be "good" without the "frightening." My trip through the cave showed that we cannot be reborn without facing the consequences, challenges and wounds of our pasts.  It was my entire internal, emotional and physical struggle with my adventure in Japan personified. And as I sat with my friends drinking cheap beer underneath the sakura trees I felt a sudden and well deserved swell of pride and gratitude. Like I said before Japan has a way of showing me my limitations I never knew I had.

And consistently showing me ways to over come them.

Matsuyama Part I: Castles and Cherry Blossoms

While other students were going to Korea, Taiwan, Tokyo and Okinawa for spring break I decided to go to good old Matsuyama. Was it because I heard the raving reviews about Matsuyama's fabulous tourist attractions? Not particularly Was there white sandy beaches and tropical weather that might rival Hawaii? Nope Was it because the flight to Matsuyama was the cheapest place to go to? Yes. 100% yes. In fact many of my Japanese friends here in Osaka didn't really even know where Matsuyama was! Matsuyama is in fact located on Shikoku Island in Ehime prefecture. Its a small little city (in Japanese standards) with it's major attractions being the famous Dogo Onsen and Matsuyama Castle. I was a little worried upon my arrival in Matsuyama, staying there for three days I wondered if there would be enough to do in this small little bedroom town. However I was surprised by not only the beauty of the town but the down-to-earth nature of the people. 

When we arrived in Matsuyama, checked into our hostel (which was gorgeous by the way, if you ever need a place to stay in the area check out Sen Guesthouse) we were greeted by the first hints of spring. The weather was sunny and cool and the cherry blossoms were almost at peak bloom.  Right off the bat we decided to check out Matsuyama Castle built in 1603. There are a couple ways to get to the castle, walking, by cable car or ropeway.  Walking up the side of the mountain at that moment didn't seem like a great idea to me, neither did sitting in a cable car with a bunch of other tourist.   Nope I opted for the ropeway. 

Matsuyama Castle via the questionable ropeway.

A single plastic chair all but hung on a wire rope. It was probably totally safe, I mean I am still alive and well after the fact. But at the time the gentle swaying of my chair every time the wind so much as subtly breezed by me was less than comforting. 

The view from the castle

After making it to the top (and thanking sweet Jesus for land and reliable steal wires) we were greeted by a whole spread of blossoming sakura trees and a miraculous view of the whole city. Looking out over the blue tinged mountains, the clustered building roof tops, and the far distant sea was breathtaking and a refreshing change of pace from the skyscraper dotted horizon of Osaka.

Me and the view. After this everyone took picture in the same spot.
Look at me being a trend setter and all that.

Before entering the castle we took a short break and bought some ice cream to eat under the trees while looking out at the view.  I bought a flavor that I thought slightly strange but absolutely fitting for the occasion, Sakura. What could cherry blossom flavored ice cream possibly taste like? Cherries? I thought when I was handed a large swirling mass of pink, that kinda looked like frozen Pepto-Bismal. (I'm doing such a great job of making that sound appetizing aren't I?) When I tasted it however I was pleasantly surprised it tasted well, very Japanese. And thankfully not at all like indigestion medicine but more of a mixture of mochi with a faint floral taste. 

After the ice cream break we hit up the castle. It was like straight out of those old samurai films, small closed off chambers, large wooden beams, arrow slits in the walls, and one rather image breaking element, stairs from hell. Seriously how did anyone get around when your stairs were placed at a 90 degree angle? It was like I needed climbing gear just to get to the second floor! Had to tell the old lady behind me to hold her horses while I hooked up my carabiner.

On the subject of old women however, (smooth transition huh?) Japanese Obaasans (Grandmas) are not to be taken lightly. They will mow you down, and many a time have I been on the receiving end of their quarterback sacks. While I was mentally preparing myself and giving a pep talk to my leg muscles I was bypassed by a horde of Obaasans casually hiking up the stairs like they were walking on a sidewalk. 

They even beat me to the top.

Obaasans: 1  Danya: 0

I need to get on their level.