おはようございます / Ohayo Gozaimasu (Good Morning)

Still raining, but less and it is a bit warmer, so we have left our umbrella behind along with our pessimism.

We had followed advice not to pack an umbrella but just to buy one as we go. It was a good idea, although it was not the $2 we had expected, but rather more than that. It is a large creature, made of sturdy clear plastic, which is wonderful for being able to see all the other umbrellas coming at us in the street, as well as letting in what light there is.

At every store there is a small machine in which one inserts a wet umbrella and removes it now encased in a plastic sleeve. This sleeve is discarded upon leaving the store, and no doubt is the reason no one slips on wet floors or drips on the merchandise. I shudder to think at how much plastic is used in a wet hour let alone days and days, and can only hope the sleeves are made of something edible or recyclable, because as a concept it is excellent.

Needing a bit of green versus the concrete experienced yesterday, we headed to Yoyogi, and found our way into the park and to our first shrine, the Shinto Meiji-jingo. The path was through forests of high, green-leaved trees that wore the same shape as those trees I remember seeing in the ancient ruins of Rome, although these were not conifers, although they are evergreen, with graceful trunks and full canopies. There were spreads of grass here and there strictly roped off. Mole hills defied the warnings. There was bird song, and lovely little temple-shaped lights along the way, and it felt good to see Mother Nature again, despite a man-enforced design.

As we approached the shrine, a three way speaker system set among the trees "told" us what was coming (we presume), which was another odd, man-made installation placed within the forest stillness. Mother Nature must be extremely happy to see the mole hills defying regulations.

The shrine was built the same year I was, although this was a rebuilding, after it had been destroyed in WWII raids. Even so, the original shrine was only build in 1920, and there is a lot of activity preparing it for its 100th birthday in 2 years, coinciding with the summer Olympic Games to be held in Tokyo. Among the additions is a copper roof, and a towering new gate. One of the older gates is 12 metres and made of 1500 year old cypress wood.

Old Gate

New Gate

We were not allowed to enter the shrine itself, as a lot of hammering was going on behind a screen which indicated more centenary preparations. But we did get our first stamp (more about that in another post). and we did pay our respects, bowing, then clapping twice, then bowing again. We also washed our hands with the bamboo ladles, no doubt a tradition from pilgrimages, when faithful visitors needed to take the dust of their feet before entering sacred space. This reminded me of the fountains outside mosques in Turkey, where feet and hands must be washed before entering. Which came first? or were they just two different versions created out of the same necessity? When one starts travelling one finds things that are novel and strange, but the more places to which one travels, the more these things become similar if not the same as each other.

As we wended our way ('went' our way?) through the forest again, this time into the craziness of Harajuku, we passed two walls of barrels on either side of the path, one of oak that had been filled with burgundy brought over from France, and the other of squat shape for sake all painted gaily. Even Shinto monks need refreshment. 

sake for shinto