Regular snapshots of everyday life plus musings on Japanese culture and society for Japanese language learners and Japan lovers in general. Subscribe for email notifications when a new post goes up or send me a request (on the right panel). Comments are also welcome (link below each post).
Everyone is familiar with the traditional Japanese gate or torii (鳥居) most commonly found at the entrance to a shrine (or sometimes temple). In a previouspost, I talked about the boundary between the profane (impure) and the sacred (pure) which the gate typically marks. The oldest torii in Japan is a stone one in Yamagata that dates back to the 12th century (pictured right). One of the most well-known is the famous "floating" vermilion torii at Itsukushima Shrine in Miyajima, Hiroshima, historically listed as one of the three most scenic views in Japan (nihon sankei =日本三景). In terms of popularity though, the thousand torii at Fushimi Inari Shrine in Kyoto are unsurpassed. Torii are (usually) large enough to walk through, though one is apparently not supposed to walk dead centre (seichū =正中)through the gate as this is the path of the Gods. The images below show: from left to right, a gate leading up to a small neighbourhood shrine, three gates in the centre of a large shrine in a park (note the shidepurifying paper), and a solitary gate in the middle of a field in front of a tiny shrine.
L to R, (1) torri in a small neighbourhood shrine, (2) three torii in a park shrine and (3) a solitary torii in a barren field
However, less well known are the tiny torii dotted around the neighbourhood in difficult to see places: by the side of a road, in the undergrowth next to a fence, or hidden away on a small path (pictured below - look carefully!). Why are they there? Believe it or not, the reason is apparently to deter passers-by (and/or their dogs) from urinating (shōben =小便) and dumping rubbish (fuhōtōki =不法投棄)! Because the torii signifies sacred ground (even though there is no actual shrine present), doing either of these actions would presumably consecrate the site, thereby angering the gods. I wonder how effective they are at subconsciously deterring these kind of actions?
Two tiny torii on the road leading to the station, as a deterrent to passers-by not to urinate or throw rubbish!
Before being enveloped by the madness of the new academic year, I took the chance for a brief visit to Hakone, the last opportunity to re-charge the batteries (jūden suru =充電する) before classes begin. Hakone is a mountainous resort area a couple of hours west of Tokyo famous for its hot springs - and by association its volcanic activity. For most Japanese it also brings to mind the 100-year-old Tokyo-Hakone ekiden (long distance relay race) which is staple viewing in the New Year. Broadcast in its entirety on January 2nd (Otemachi to Hakone) and January 3rd (Hakone to Otemachi), the race has become a cultural institution which sees millions of Japanese glued to their screens as the university students complete their individual legs (20km~23km). Usually nothing much happens but now and again there is a show of individual fighting spirit or grit (konjō) which captures qualities which Japanese tend to value like perseverance, endurance, and team-spirit.
My trip was a much more sedate affair which involved a small minpaku (lodge, like a B&B) in the Gora (強羅) district, quite a few baths, and walking around Owakudani Valley and Lake Ashi (including the lovely Hakone Shrine, giant cedars, and famous torii gate on the lake's edge). Being up in the mountains, the heavenly cherry trees were still in bloom, in contrast to Tokyo where they had long finished.
Taking the ropeway to see the boiling Sulphur springs at Owakudani Valley (the old crater of Mt. Kami) is quite an experience, not least because of all the signs warning of volcanic activity and the health risks due to the volcanic gases. Even riding up in the gondola, "people lacking confidence in health" are encouraged to cover their mouth and nose with the wet cloth provided! Arriving at the top, I found that the trail around the crater was closed off (due to increased volcanic activity); certainly, the smell was rather overpowering and the various warning signs, including one warning us to run into a building if the volcano erupts (!), were just a touch disconcerting. With this in mind, I decided to take shelter in the Geomuseum which gives great bilingual descriptions about the history of the volcano (a small explosion occurred in 2015), shows how the spring water is drawn and pumped, and discusses the mystery of the black eggs which turn that colour when boiled here (something which reportedly occurs only at Owakudani!).
After the fumes - and bone-biting chill - of Owakudani, it was something of a relief to come down to Lake Ashi. Forgoing the pleasure of a trip across the lake on a full-scale pirate galleon (?), I headed towards Hakone Shrine, first founded in the 8th century, following a cedar pathway which shadowed the old Tokaido (Kyoto to Edo) Highway. The shrine itself is protected by a rather marvellous pair of moss-covered komainu (guardian lion dogs). As mentioned earlier, the torii or entrance/gate to the shrine is located on the shore itself, reminiscent of the famous "floating" vermilion torii at Itsukushima Shrine in Miyajima, Hiroshima. Gazing out over Lake Ashi through the torii gate, the hell-like scenes in the Owakudani Valley (short video below) seemed like a world away.
Here in Japan, as the sakura bloom, many are eagerly awaiting the announcement of the new era name as the current emperor prepares to abdicate (Just announced - the new name is Reiwa=令和). As well as the Western calendar, Japan also has its own calendar known as the nengō (年号) system; in modern times this has corresponded with the name of an imperial era. So the Heisei era (as the current period is known) started with the accession of the current emperor Akihito in January 1989 and will end on April 30 2019 - the 31st year of Heisei - when he abdicates in favour of Crown Prince Naruhito. Interestingly, during his reign the emperor is never called by his name but only as emperor (ten'nō=天皇); after his reign he will be referred to as Emperor Heisei (平成天皇). Thus, if you ask a Japanese the real name of a current or former emperor most will not know.
The custom of posthumously naming an Emperor after the era during which they ruled began after the death of the Emperor Meiji in 1912 (film buffs may remember the very young emperor portrayed in The Last Samurai). The Emperor Meiji is enshrined - but not buried - in Meiji Shrine (Meiji Jingū=明治神宮) which boasts 100,000 trees right in the centre of Tokyo, just a stone's throw from Harajuku Station. The shrine was finished in 1920, burnt down during World War II, and rebuilt in 1958. The giant toriigate at the entrance to the shrine complex must be one of the most photographed places in Tokyo. As you walk into the shrine, there are more of these imposing gates, including the Ōtorii (大鳥居) Grand Shrine Gate which at 12m tall is the biggest wooden torii in Japan. It is made of 1500 year old Japanese cypress (hinoki) and if you look carefully, you will also see branches with sakaki leaves tied to the bottom of the gates, a species of evergreen sacred to Shinto.
Talking of things sacred to Shinto, sake (rice wine) is high on the list. Walking through the shrine precinct you will come across a giant wall of refined sake (seishu=清酒) barrels wrapped in straw which are given as offerings every year by the Sake Brewers Association. A little further on you will come to the Meiji Memorial Hall where the Meiji Constitution was signed; Shinto weddings (shinzen kekkon =神前結婚) are also performed here (if you have enough money!). (Ceremonial) sake drinking is a key part of the ceremony, specifically the drinking of three cups three times (nan-nan-san-ku-do). The evergreen mentioned earlier also features, with the priest offering some to the altar near the end of the ceremony.
These two giant 'husband and wife' camphor trees planted in 1920 at the time of the enshrinement of the emperor have become a symbol of happy marriage and harmonious life within the family
The day I visited I was lucky enough to see a wedding procession headed by the Shinto priests (note the amagutsu footwear) followed by two shrine maidens (miko) and the bride and groom. Note the bride's white paper headwear, known as a tsuno-kakushi (角隠し) or "horn hider". The meaning of this is rather unclear, but in Japan if someone is angry people often gesture with index fingers making horns on the head. Thus, the "horn hider" seems to mean that wives should suppress any anger/jealousy and be obedient to their husband! For those of you who assume this is the 'traditional' gender role, be careful: the Shinto marriage ceremony and indeed many of the social norms relating to how wives and mothers 'should' act are recent inventions, created after the beginning of the Meiji era.
Instructions on how to wash your hands before praying at Yasukuni Shrine
A number of posts to date - such as those on shide paper, Japanese toilets, and torii gates - have highlighted the importance of the impure/pure division in Japanese society. A further example of the importance of purification (kiyome =浄め・清め) is washing when visiting a shrine. After passing through the torii and under the shide - which do themselves symbolise purification - and before praying at the altar itself, it is expected that visitors will "purify" their hands (te o kiyomeru =手を浄める) at the temizuya (手水屋), a small open pavilion with a trough of water.
The instructions - note how they are written from right to left like a Japanese book - are quite specific (pictured above). First, pick up a ladle (hishaku =柄杓) with your right hand, scoop up some water, and pour it over your left hand. Second, switch the ladle to your left hand and clean your right hand. Third, switch the ladle back to your right hand, scoop up some water, and pour this water into your left hand; then sup a little water from your left hand (don't swallow!), rinse your mouth, and spit out in the drain. Fourth, clean your left hand one last time. And fifth, return the scoop gently to the edge of the temizuya. The process may seem a little confusing (there is a short video below) but it is a lot easier than misogiwhich covers a number of exhausting whole-body purification activities, the best known of which is standing under an ice-cold waterfall in nothing but a loin cloth!
UPDATE: A friend pointed out that it is more common to use one ladle scoop for the whole process rather than to keep refilling the ladle. Check out the video herefor this method.
Komainu pair with torii gate and fox pair in background
One of the ideas behind the blog is to observe the everyday, to stroll the streets of the metropolis noticing the little things that are missed by most and examine them with a view to gaining a deeper understanding of Japanese society (in this sense, I am very much influenced by the notion of the flâneur or flâneuse). A good example are the tiny red torii gates (discussed here) strategically placed to deter passers-by from urinating or dumping rubbish.
Left komainu (mouth closed) at Yamagata Gokoku-jinja
Today's object of interest are komainu (狛犬) or lion-dogs, pairs of wooden, stone, or metal animals typically guarding and protecting the entrance to a shrine or sometimes temple. In this sense, they are similar to the pairs of foxes (introduced in a previous post) which are a common sight at temples and shrines dedicated to the Goddess Inari across Japan (including the most famous of all, Fushimi Inari Shrine in Kyoto). Sometimes these komainu can be enormous. In Yamagata City, a new pair of komainu made from metal were unveiled to guard the Shrine for the War Dead (Gokoku-jinja=護国神社) produced using a local cast/mould technique in the aptly named Dō-machi (literally "Bronze neighbourhood"). It is said they will last "18,000 years."
A small pair of komainu on the gate of a house
Shīsā in Okinawa
Unlike foxes, komainu are also seen (in miniature) at the entrance to regular houses and even rooftops, especially in Okinawa where they are called shīsā (シーサー) and are found all over the place (often made of red clay). One interesting feature of these beast pairs is that the lion-dog on the left typically has its mouth closed while the one on the right has its mouth open. The open mouth is said to be pronouncing the first letter of the Sanskrit alphabet (a) while the closed mouth one is pronouncing the final letter (um/n), giving the sacred sound "Aum/n" (sometimes written Om) which is said to represent the beginning and end of all things. In everyday conversation, this has a positive meaning: if a couple or group perform an action together seamlessly, almost telepathically, for example in sport, it is refered to as aun no kokyū (あうん[阿吽]の呼吸).
Unfortunately, the word Aum has a different, darker connotation for most Japanese: Aum Shinrikyō (オウム真理教) is the name of the doomsday cult which carried out the 1995 sarin Tokyo subway attack which killed 12 and injured nearly 1000. 23 years on, speculation is rife that preparations are now being made to execute the 13 members who were found guilty of the crime, including blind guru Asahara (yes, Japan still has the death penalty). What was particularly shocking for Japanese was that many of the perpetrators were young elite post-graduates from Japan's top universities. There was much soul-searching over why this was and reasons posited included the post-war spiritual vacuum, alienation from an overly-materialist society, and loneliness/lack of community due to rapid urbanisation.
Once you've arrived in Kyoto, found a place to stay, and rented a kimono, you're all set to begin sightseeing. If you rented kimono at the place I recommended in part 1 then you're well placed to walk to Fushimi Inari Taisha (伏見稲荷大社) a Shinto shrine famous for its thousands of bright vermillion torii gates (sen bon dorii =千本鳥居) - and also featured in the film Memoirs of a Geisha. Keen followers of this blog may remember that the Goddess Inari is one of the main kami of Shinto: look out for all the (very stylised) foxes, especially in pairs, said to be the messengers of the Goddess. At night (it's open 24 hours) you may even encounter a real fox! The torii gates lead you on various trails heading upwards through forest, passing small shrines. Interestingly, the gates themselves get smaller as you progress up the mountain - while the crowds only seem to get bigger!
If you did rent kimono, your zōri-clad feet will no doubt be killing you after the tough climb at Fushimi Inari Shrine, so why not experience a unique Japanese-style Starbucks? This is found at Ninenzaka(map here) a beautiful thoroughfare of traditional Japanese houses, restaurants, and shops between Yasaka (Gion) Shrine and the world heritage Kiyomizu Temple. The Starbucks is officially called Ninenzaka Yasaka Chaya (二年坂ヤサカ茶屋) with chaya meaning "tea house" and has tatami flooring, shōji paper sliding doors, and even a little Japanese garden.
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If you have any energy left (I did say it was a flying visit!) a final recommendation would be the gold-leaf coated Kinkakuji (金閣寺=Golden Temple/Pavilion), though it is a lot further out and requires a thirty to forty-minute bus-ride from Kyoto Station. The temple was actually burned down in 1950 by a young monk and this incident is the basis of the story for Yukio Mishima's 1956 novel named after the temple (the monk was obsessed by its beauty in the book). The story is also included in the classic 1985 film Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters co-written and directed by Paul Schrader with Francis Ford Coppola and George Lucas as executive producers. Mishima's central theme was the dichotomy between traditional Japanese values and the spiritual barrenness of contemporary life. See herefor a fascinating interview with Mishima in English which covers a range of topics - including ritual suicide(seppuku) which was the cause of his death in 1970.
Attractions at Haneda Airport: Godzilla, Torii gate with Edo painting, and Tanabata Display
BritishProf has been on his travels, first to the UK, and more recently to Karuizawa, the mountain resort town famous for escaping the summer heat. For the UK, I flew from Haneda Airport, just south of central Tokyo, MUCH more convenient than Narita. Haneda has expanded and developed substantially in recent years, and was recently named the World's Best Domestic Airport and recognised for having the World's Best Accessible Facilities at the World Airport Awards. The new Terminal 1 North Satellite is set to open in September 2026 boasting Japan's first hybrid wood-steel terminal structure and promising to improve passenger flow and reduce bus gate usage for domestic operations. In short, if you're flying to or from Tokyo, domestic or international, Haneda is by far the best option: not to mention it also has interesting displays such as the world's largest indoor Godzillamonument, artworks (the picture features the 17th century Cooling Off or 納涼図屏風 by Kusumi Morikage), and seasonal events (such as the interactive Tanabatafestival corner which encouraged travellers to write their hopes and dreams on colorful strips of paper called tanzaku).
Japan has certainly heated up considerably since I first flew out from Haneda, and despite temperatures in England reaching record highs, they are nothing in comparison to the consecutive 35 degree plus days and 80% humidity which has become the norm in Japanese summertime. The Cooling Off sketch mentioned above, featuring a family of three enjoying an evening breeze and gazing at the moon, makes one yearn for the end of summer, and the painting itself does indeed hint at the coming autumn with its rising full moon and the ripening gourds growing on the vines on the trells. For now, though there is nothing to do but brave the heat but one can at least enjoy some of the delightful summer blooms such as the water lily, properly known as the Indian/Sacred Lotus (Hasu in Japanese) , with its gorgeous pink flowers.
Keeping fit in the dog days of summer is tough, but for a light workout
at an interesting venue why not try pickleball at Tokyo Tower? The white and red lattice communications tower was famously inspired by the Eiffel Tower: at 333 metres it is just 3 metres taller than its French rival! It was the tallest tower in Japan and one of Tokyo's main tourist attractions until the opening of the 634 metre Tokyo Skytree in 2012. Tokyo Tower's two observation decks remain popular though: the two-story 150 metre Main Deck (¥1500) and the smaller almost 250 metre Top Deck (¥3500). A final tourist attraction is the five-story base building known as FootTown which houses a number of restaurants, gift
shops, and other attractions, including two pickleball courts at the top (RF). Pickleball is unique mix of tennis, badminton, and table tennis and is played with a solid paddle and a perforated plastic ball on a badminton-sized court with a lowered net. While first introduced to Japan only in 2014, it enjoyed a surge in popularity following a 2024 tournament held at Ariake Tennis Park; the Tokyo Tower Pickleball Court opened in July 2025 and in 2026 the two leading organisations in Japan mergedto form one governing body, Pickleball Japan. It was my first time playing, but it was easy for beginners to pick up and not too strenuous. The only problem was the wind, with the ball - essentially a light plastic ball with holes - really being affected by the gusts. Maybe playing half way up Tokyo Tower was not a good idea after all! Any experience with interesting or unusual sports inside or outside Japan? Let us know in the COMMENTS!
Last Sunday I climbed Mount Takao (Takao-san=高尾山), a beautiful 599m peak in Western Tokyo less than an hour by train from Shinjuku Station. On a good day you can even see Mount Fuji from the top! Getting off at Takaosan-guchi Station, it is possible to skip the steepest part of the climb and take the cable car or chair lift to half-way, though no part of the climb is particularly hard. This is a popular spot so expect to ascend slowly taking in various temples, shrines, torii, and very old cedar trees along the paved route up. Takao is a sacred mountain and you will see many instances of the long-nosed Demon/God Tengu (pictured, right, at Takao Station and, left, further up the peak) who acts as the protector of the mountain. In Japan, if someone is acting in an arrogant, conceited, or haughty fashion people might place their fist in front of their nose to impersonate Tengu and say that that person is "becoming Tengu" (tengu ni naru).
One unusual feature I noticed on the mountain were the plethora of black balls sitting on a stone lotus plinth with a spinning wheel underneath (right). On each ball was written one of six kanji characters reflecting the six "roots" or senses: eye (目), nose (鼻), ear (耳), tongue (舌), body (身), and mind/heart (意) - the latter to interpret and judge the senses. According to the "instructions" (left) one is supposed to spin the wheel thereby reflecting on and cleansing/purifying (seijō =清浄) the self, enabling one to feel rejuvenated and look ahead to the future. In sum, climbing Mount Takao will help you to feel refreshed both mentally and physically - but be careful not to become too proud of yourself...
In my earlier post on the coronavirus situation in Japan (updated daily!), I suggested that one of the reasons that the virus may not have spread to the extent it has in Western countries could be cultural. I wrote that Japan is a hygiene-obsessed country at the best of times and
hand-washing, gargling, masks, and hand-sanitiser - not to mention
social distance and bowing instead of hand-shaking and hugging - are part of
everyday life (especially during the influenza season which coincided with the start of the crisis). I also mentioned the plethora of anti-bacterial or kōkin (抗菌) goods on sale, from pens and slippers to bags and leg-warmers. While it is true that Japan has conducted fewer tests than most other countries – at the time of writing WHO datagives a figure of 1.03 per thousand in stark contrast to its neighbour South Korea with almost 11.22 per thousand – it is also true that the number of deaths has remained extremely low: Japan's mortality ratewas 2.5% as of April 23rd compared with 13.56% in the U.K. Moreover, hospitals have not been overrun. So could adopting Japanese cultural traits help us defeat the Coronavirus - and save lives? This seems less of a stretch if we remember that culture is simply the customs and behaviour of a particular people or society. Indeed, governments across the world have been encouraging us to change our daily habits. "It's just behaviour," said Dr Deborah Birx,
the coordinator of the White House coronavirus task force, "each of our
behaviours translating into something that changes the course of this
viral pandemic."
Starting with the ideas and values that drive behaviour let's look in a little more detail at the Japanese focus on cleanliness and hygiene in Japan. In one of my earliest posts, I discussed Japanese high-tech toilets and the "clean/pure" inside (uchi =内) vs "dirty/polluted" outside (soto =外) divide. In the home, for example, this is evidenced by both the genkan (porch or entrance hall) where shoes are removed before stepping up into the house and also the toilet itself where household (often anti-bacterial) toilet slippers need to be worn. The distinction between clean and dirty is rooted in Japan's indigenous religion, Shinto; the toriigate to the shrine, often festooned with shidepurifying paper, marks the boundary between the sacred (pure) and
the profane (impure).
Overall and hat for school lunch duty
One consequence of this concept of the outside as dirty (kitanai=汚い) is that the importance of removing shoes, hand-washing, and gargling is drilled into youngsters from an early age. In schools, children change into indoor slip-on shoes (uwabaki=上履き) at the entrance. In public schools, school lunch (kyūshoku) is typically provided and everybody washes their hands thoroughly before eating. Students take turns to dish out the food and the student on duty (tōban) for that day will typically wear an overall or apron, hat, and mask (pictured). Given this cultural background, recent songs by Arashi and (below) Pikotaroimploring everyone to wash their hands seem unnecessary.
Another Japanese (indeed Asian) habit that can save lives is the wearing of masks. As I discussed in detail here, Japanese wear masks for a variety of reasons, from covering the face when there was no time to make-up and preventing a sore throat to stopping hay fever and the spread of cold/flu. Part of the culture of mask wearing is consideration for others: it is safe and reassuring for others if you are wearing a mask. This is a point that was not well understood by WHO and most Western governments who initially said that masks were not recommended. In contrast, countries such as Korea strongly recommended masks as a way to limit the spread of infection. In other words, the Western perspective was that masks were unlikely to prevent an individual catching the virus; in contrast the Asian perspective was that masks were effective in stopping the spread of the virus to others (especially relevant since around 10% of cases are asymptomatic). Belatedly, we are now seeing a change in the WHO position to one condoning the wearing of masks.
In conclusion, there is a lot of evidence that acting more Japanese can help protect both ourselves and others. In Japan, as outlined in this Japan Times article, there has been a flood of tweets and blog posts arguing that Japanese cultural practices have contributed to the low number of infections. Cell biologist Hironori Funabiki, for example, mentions washlets on high-tech toilets, lack of speaking on public transport and at ceremonies, few religious assemblies, and the fact that few foods are eaten with bare hands (most snacks are individually wrapped). The article cited above does finish with a word of caution, though, introducing one Japanese cultural trait that could actually increase the spread of the virus: shame. Japanese are for the most part very sensitive about causing trouble or inconvenience for others (the word for this, meiwaku, is frequently used to admonish adults and children alike) and this could make people reluctant to get tested for fear of embarrassing their company or in-group. Indeed, there is a underlying feeling that health is "all in the mind" (yamai wa ki kara) and anybody who has fallen ill must be at least partly to blame for not taking proper care of their health (kenkō kanri). Of course this can also work to encourage people to take more care. In the final analysis, whatever culture we hail from we all need to take a little extra care - and be a little more considerate - if we and those around us are to survive these difficult times.