Ise Stories. Day 2.

Another day has passed. The air bearing the perfume of spring took us all by surprise and almost cradled us on the way to our classes, making our tired feet and minds to move more easily. We live so much in one single day, that it is almost sad how we will probably never be able to remember everything. Luckily, our blogs will bear testimony long after our own memories have faded.

Perhaps the organizers too knew or suspected how tired we are already becoming, so they started our day with an information session about Ise and tourism, held by a charming and lively Japanese, who interrupted his presentation from time to time to remind us that love is important (precisely today, on Romanian “Valentine´s Day” called Dragobete), human relationships are important, and that he hopes we will remain in contact after the program and that we will spread the word about Ise wherever we will go. Such warmth is always even more welcome when it comes from unexpected places. Other than that, my thoughts wondered at the paradox that Ise’s lack of popularity is due to a kind of religious integrity, by which I mean that the shrine here isn’t usually used to pray for personal gain, but for the peace and security of the nation and its people, which makes it a less popular spiritual destination compared to Meiji Jingu or Hokkaido. The shrine in Ise also doesn’t support advertising and marketing itself, which is noble and impressive, so that in a way I begin to understand why we are here. Not only to spread the word ourselves, but to be educated about Shinto and about Ise, so that our word might someday carry the weight of a deep and insightful experience here in Ise.

Our next classes described the history of the shrine, this time in close connection to Japanese mythology. One of the fascinating things about Japan is how its myths survived to the present day and sometimes even have their role to play in the political scene, as I was surprised to find out in our “Political Mythology” seminar at Tubingen University in the last semester. The Inner Shrine at Ise, where the Sun Goddess Amaterasu is worshiped, is also the sanctuary of one of the three imperial regalia, that is, the mirror. Amaterasu is said to have been the most splendid of the gods, the sun itself, and her brother Susano-o a sort of trickster, and a god prone to mischief, so much so that he upset Amaterasu, who hid into a cave. Because of that, all light had disappeared from the world. Desperate to bring her out again, the other gods lured her out by having a woman dance in front of the cave, with a jewel and a mirror, whose sparkling lights made Amaterasu curious enough to leave her shelter. The jewel and the crown have become the symbols of the emperor, along with the sword Kusanagi, which Susano-o had procured by defeating an eight-headed serpent. They were handed down to humans when Amaterasu sent her great-great grandson, Ninigi-no-Mikoto to earth to rule. The myth also states that Amaterasu gave Ninigi a bowl of rice, so that his people could live plentiful lives. That is why many Shinto rites are strongly connected to harvest festivals and why rice, a main ingredient in Japanese cuisine, is also a cultural component. Later, the great-great grandson of Ninigi-no-Mikoto will become Jinmu Tenno, the first emperor of Japan, according to legend. For a long time Amaterasu was worshiped in the imperial palace, but by the time of the 10th emperor, Suinin Tenno, a grave epidemic had taken place and subsequently the goddess had asked to be moved to a more suitable location. Therefore, the emperor asked his princess, Yamato Hime (whose shrine we visited yesterday) to find such a place, and she was given a vision of Ise by Amaterasu. That is why, among other things, the Ise shrine is so important and why the mirror, symbol of the emperor, is said to reside here, although few have ever seen it.

Afterwards we were invited to the shrine near our lecture building, where we watched an interesting, albeit stereotypical documentary about Shinto and the Japanese people (link here). After wondering why most of the soundtrack of the documentary was European classical music which I easily recognized (Pachelbel’s canon among them), my attention was drawn to some aspects of Shinto underlined in the documentary and in the discussion with our Shinto priest. I do not hope to be able to provide an academic or even accurate description of Shinto, but I would dare to outline some characteristics as an incentive for further research when the interest arises. It would seem that Shinto is not a religion, in the traditional sense, like Christianity or Buddhism, it has no founder or dogma, but is closely connected to nature and to the everyday life of the individual:

“Deeply indebted to the blessings of nature, the Japanese people came to acknowledge spiritual powers which brought about life, fertility, and prosperity. The natural life-power which gave birth to things was called musubi (divine power of growth), and this divine musubi was perceived in the manifold workings and phenomena of nature”.

Furthermore, “observing the Shinto faith means worshiping ancestors as guardians of the family. It also means showing respect for the myriad kami – a word that corresponds to ‘deity’ in English – residing in the natural world. There are kami of the mountains, and kami of the sea. Kami are all around us, in every thing and every person. They may be worshiped anywhere, but many people visit Shinto shrines, called jinja, cleansing their hands and mouth at the entrance to purify the body and mind”. At one point we discussed the case of ujigami, which means “patron deity” or “local deity”, and is the kami of a specific region. I dared to ask a question, in my clumsy Japanese, about the relationship, if any, between the “age” of a kami, seeing that they could be either Amaterasu or an even older kami, a tree or a person who lived a couple of decades ago, and the power of that kami. My (completely spontaneous and unresearched) idea was that in Christianity, for example, a part of the authority of God lies in the knowledge of his eternity, his presence before the beginning of the world and after its end, and his infinite power and foresight. If he were such a powerful being, would it not be logical that he would be able to fulfill my insignificant prayer? Apparently though, there is no such connection or hierarchy in Shinto. The quality of being a kami is enough, by which we are to understand that a kami is capable of doing anything and being anything or anyone. As such, “no hierarchy is found among most of the Japanese deities, but they form a single divine realm centered on Amaterasu Oomikami, a representation of the sun and revered as ancestor of the Japanese people”.

The rituals of Shinto are closely tied to nature, harvest festivals and the changes of seasons. Some occur every 6 months and are centered upon purifying the people and correcting their mistakes. In Shinto it is believed that humans are born with a cheerful, pure heart and a great value is placed on the qualities of purity and honesty. The rituals, or matsuri, who also mark the span of a human life are closely connected to rites of passage: the bringing of a new-born baby the first time to the shrine, the rite of shichi-gp-san, when children of 3, 5, 7 years are brought to the shrine, the rite for young people at the age of 20 as they become adults, marriages and New Year celebrations. The New Year is very important in the Japanese culture, as it was believed that every person becomes life anew at the passing in the new year, and everybody added automatically another year to their age on that day, instead of celebrating individual birthdays like today.

The apparent simplicity of Shinto and its closeness to life would explain why it has been called in the past a ‘primitive religion’. It remains to be seen, but I doubt the answer could ever truly be that easy. In our classes, which sometimes merge directly into temple visits, the line between history and myth fades as our journey towards the heart of Ise continues.