Higashiyama Hanami: Kiyomizu Bound

Kyoto Rewind: April 2, 2008


Sanju-no-to, the three story padgoda of Kyoto's Kiyomizu Temple, pierces a powder blue sky through a veil of cherry blossoms.

Just as the cherry blossoms began to reach their height in Higashiyama, the scenic eastern mountain distict nestled between the historic Gion district and growing waves of verdant hills climbing slowly to the sky, my friend Abbey, my brother and I were joined by the very lucky Londoner who ascended the Ena ALT throne, along with my favorite JLT (Japanese language teacher) and her adorable son for a bit of hanami and a brief Kyoto Cultural Heritage Tour a la me!

Since London P had never been to Kyoto, our first stop, after breaking the fast at Starbucks in Gion, was Kiyomizu-dera, the Temple of Pure Waters. I am a firm believer that it's not the destination, but the journey that matters. Half the fun is getting there! So instead of heading straight for the temple or hopping a bus, I led our little group through Yasaka Shrine to the Ishibei-kouji, or Stone Wall Lane.

The narrow, covered wooden entrance to the Ishibei-kouji is cleverly hidden and hard to find, if you don't know where to look. Most tourists walk right by without giving it a second glance.

A curious couple snuck a peek up the dimly lit alley way, then turned around a left without exploring its well-kept secret.

Emerging from the darkened tunnel, you are greeted by wonderfully aged wooden walls and traditional architecture.

The stone paved path leads through traditional Japanese inns, or ryokan, restaurants and residences. The classic Kyoto atmosphere of the Ishibei-kouji makes it a popular spot for tourists dressed as maiko and geisha to have there photographs taken.

Like elsewhere in Kyoto, traditional and modern co-exist.


The lane leads to Nene no Michi, near Kodaji Temple. This is where the ascent to Kiyomizu begins, along with the hanami.

Holding out his bowl with his eyes humbly lowered, a monk from Kiyomizu begs for alms, chanting silently along the ascent to the temple.

UNESCO World Heritage designated Kiyomizu-dera, the Temple of Pure Waters, is one of Kyoto's most popular tourist destinations.


As the main temple of the Hosso sect of Buddhism, it has been destroyed and rebuilt many times in its twelve centuries of history, most recently in 1633.

Kiyomizudera is said to have been constructed from 778 by Enchin, a buddhist priest, in honor of the Kannon Bosatsu (Bodhisattva of Mercy and Compassion).

According to the legend, Enchin received a vision that said he would find at the source of the Yodo river, a clear source of water. During his search Enchin came across a hermit named Gyoei. Gyoei, an old ascetic priest gave Enchin a piece of wood inhabited by the spirit of Kannon, the lord of compassion and goddess of mercy. Carving it into the likeness of the boddhisatva, Enchin enshired it in a small thatched roofed hut, the humble beginnings of the now impressive temple complex dominating the verdant Eastern hills of Kyoto.

The legend says that the hermit disappeared, and when Enchin later discovered his sandals on top of the mountain, he realized that he had actually been speaking with a manifestation of the Kannon.


A young foreign couple poses for wedding pictures beneath the cherry blossoms.


Hundreds of ancient-looking Jizo statues spring from the lush moss carpeting the slope. One of the most beloved of all Japanese divinities, Jizo intercedes to ease the suffering and shorten the sentence of those serving time in hell. In Japan, Jizo is popularly known as the guardian of unborn, aborted, miscarried, and stillborn babies, as well as patron saint of expectant mothers, children, firemen, travelers, and pilgrims.


Women in kimono snap photos of one another on their ketai (cell phones).


Looking up at the cherry blossoms surrounding the three story pagoda.

Garbage removal the old fashioned way. Sights like this are common elsewhere in Asia, but very rare in Japan.


Nestled in the hills of Higashiyama, Kiyomizu's famous stage offers an excellent view of the city and surrounding green.


Enjoying the cherry-blossom-veiled view.


Visitors often rub icons of the Buddha or other religious figures for good luck or healing powers.


A young monk happily helps a boy get his taste of the Otowa no Taki, Feather Sound Waterfall, the three streams of which are said to promise love, longevity and wisdom. The visitor must choose one.

This author of this enma, or wooden prayer plaque, is hoping for a championship showdown between my hometown Hanshin Tigers and Chunichi Dragons.

I'm wishing that next spring will find me back in Kyoto, surrounded by sakura.


The pagoda peeks over heavy clouds of sakura, dripping with silken petals which flutter to the surface of the reflective pond, blanketing it like freshly fallen snow.

A view of the main stage of Kiyomizu-dera, floating in clouds of sakura ( and supported by 139 timber pillars). The unique Edo period tradition of jumping off the stage in hopes that one's wishes would come true was attempted by 234 people, each documented in the temples records. Surprisingly, 85.4 percent survived! The Japanese equivalent of the English expression, "to take the plunge", is actually "to jump off the stage of Kiyomizu."

I love Kyoto!

They love Kyoto!

Kiyomizu-dera is just one of many reasons why!

Kenniji: Where the Hanamikoji Ends

Kyoto Rewind: April 1, 2008

Raijin, God of Lightening and Thunder, a detail of the "Wind Thunder Gods" folding screen on display at Kenniji.

The Hanami-koji, or "Flower-viewing Lane", is for many, the heart of Gion. Marked by the brilliant bengara walls of the Ichiriki Teahouse which sits conspicuously on the corner of the intersection with Shijo, it is lined with ochaya (teahouses, places where geisha entertain), okiya (like boarding houses where geisha and maiko live), traditional restaurants and shops. Tourists flock to the Hanami-kouji hoping to catch a glimpse of the elusive geisha, but at the far end of this bustling traditional entertainment district and tourist hotspot are the sprawling grounds and majestic temple buildings of Kenniji, Kyoto's oldest Zen temple.

A man in a moment of silence in the garden of Kyoto's oldest Zen temple, Kenni-ji. Founded in 1202 by the priest Eisai, it was patterned after Bai-zhang-shan, China's first Zen monastary, in accordance with the Song dynasty style of architecture.

The garden is done in the "dry mountains and water style" often found in Zen temples. It seeks to achieve the effect of an ocean or lake dotted with mountains without the actual use of water (represented by the raked stones). It also uses the "borrowed scenery" technique, borrowing the large hall behind the garden to enhance the overall view.

"Wind and Thunder Gods" folding screen by Sotatsu Tawaraya, a national treasure of Japan.

This painting commemorated the 800th anniversary of Kenni-ji's founding in 2002. It measures 11.4 meters by 15.7 meters (the size of 108 tatami mats- a common unit of measure in Japan) and is drawn with the finest quality ink on thick traditional Japanese paper. It was created in the gymnasium of an elementary school in Hokkaido and took just under 2 years to complete.

Paintings of dragons are often found on the ceilings of Zen temples, as dragons are believed to be protectors of the Buddhist teachings. They are also considered to be gods of water, sending nourishing rain of the teachings of Buddhism down onto its followers.

This painting offers a unique and profound alternative to the customary portrayal of a single dragon emerging from a large circle representing the universe .

Cho On Tei, "the garden of the sound of the tide", a simple garden nestled between two main buildings and surrounded by raised, wooden walkways and corridors. It's san-zon-seki, the central set of three stones representing the Buddha and two Zen monks, are surrounded by zazen-seki, stones used for seated meditation, and maple trees, creating relaxing, beautiful scenes from every direction.

Two main halls embrace the inner garden with covered wooden corridors of smooth, polished wood. The repetitive, symmetrical use of simple, geometrical shapes and lines in the temple's architecture stands in stark contrast to the lush, seemingly chaotic landscape of the garden.


Even on a gray day, I always enjoy the reverent tranquility and meditative atmosphere of Kenniji. It's so much fun to wander through the dimly lit buildings, slipperlessly sliding slowly down the corridors, feeling every plank and imperfection in the wooden floor boards through my socks, smelling the incense all around me, pretending I've traveled back in time. Sitting in the spacious, open tatami rooms, gazing out onto the inner garden, the brilliant red ribbon of carpet complimenting the garden's verdancy and silvertone stones. I always feel invigorated and refreshed, with just a tinge of sadness, when I leave.

Lucky for me, I step outside and find myself in Kyoto! Not just Kyoto, but Gion, the heart of the Old Capital's cultural traditions. My saddness disappears like dew in the sunshine, no matter how dreary the day.

Tōdaiji and the Great Buddha of Nara

Spring Rewind: March 31, 2008


More tricksy deer work the crowded approach to Todaiji's great gate. Watch out girls, they bite!


A young boy shares his shika senbei with one of many sacred deer lounging along the tourist-infested main approach to the temple.


An artist sketches one of two nio, or "benevolent kings", enshrined in Todaiji's main gate, which is named after them (the nio-mon). Nio gaurd the entrance to most Buddhist temples in Japan in pairs, one with it's mouth open, the other, closed. Together, they represent Alpha and Omega, birth and death, the begining and the end. Created in 1203 AD, Nara's nio are the most famous in all of Japan, standing 26 feet tall.

Tourists stop for a sakura-framed souvenier photograph along the corridor leading to the temple's thoroughfare.

Todaiji towers over visitors, dwarfing everything in sight. Certified as a UNESCO World Heritage site, Todaiji is one of Japan's most famous and historically significant temples. Despite the fact that the present reconstruction of the building, undertaken in 1692, is only two-thirds of the original size, Todaiji remains the largest wooden structure on earth, housing the world's largest cast iron Buddha at 57 meters wide, 50 meters deep, and 48 meters tall.

Sakura, silhouettes and stormy skies surround the home of Daibutsu-san, the Great Buddha of Nara. When the original construction had concluded in in 798, it was recorded that 50,000 carpenters, 370,000 metal workers, and 2.18 million laborers worked on its construction and furnishings, nearly bringing the nation to the brink of bankruptcy.


The Great Buddha of Nara is the world's largest cast iron Buddha, sitting at a staggering 14.98 meters and weighing 500 metric tonnes.


Framed by the temple's decorative woodwork and massive timber pillars.


The Great Buddha's left hand raised in the abhaya mudra, imparting fearlessness and reassurance.


Another temple gaudian, in full battle gear, glares ominously down at visitors.


A couple joins the crowd in snapping a few shots on their cell phones.


Like the buddha, this boddhisatva's left hand mudra offers reassurance. It's right hand depicts the Varada mudra, lowered with the palm facing outward, the gesture of bestowing blessings or of giving charity.