Eating and sleeping on the floor

We tripped along to the dining room where a low table had been set out for each of us with a cushion to sit on. Ladies had to kneel or sit elegantly with their legs to the side. Getting down onto the floor was the first challenge without sending the dinner table flying and then to sit elegantly - no chance. It proved impossible to balance upright and eat with chopsticks and as the time wore on numbness and aches set in with little chance to change position. The dinner got longer by the minute! The food was a challenge too. Being a temple we were given a vegetarian meal and I can honestly say that there wasn't a thing I recognised laid out in the little bowls in front of me. A monk came along and lit a flame under our little cauldrons and some roots and vegetables started to bubble away. I tentatively started. Most of it was quite bland and there seemed to be tofu in a number of different guises. The only things I really didn't like were the pickles. I balanced and chomped as best I could but I was heartily glad when the meal was over and I could stretch my legs!

Back in our room the monks had been busy getting our futons ready. The table and cushions had been removed and replaced by 2 sparse mattresses on the floor. I had always thought futons were meant to be comfortable but as soon as I sat down I knew I was in for a trying night. This temple futon was a thin covering on a very hard floor. Neither of us was much impressed as we had far too many creaking bones to sleep comfortably. I felt as if I was camping out on the living room floor and resigned myself to a fretful night. Before we settled down for the night there was the matter of the onsun......

By 5am the next morning we were more than willing to get up for the monks' service. Normally I would have been reluctant to rise at 5am to attend a service that I knew was going to be an hour of chanting in a language I didn't understand but by then anything seemed better than another minute on the floor. As predicted the service was a trial but I tried to clear my mind and use the time for meaningful meditation. I was only marginally successful. After the service we had breakfast to look forward to. We took our positions on the cushions again (groan, creak) and looked in vain for the weetabix, coffee and toast. It was good old tofu again, in more of its guises, with pickled vegetables. I can cope with foreign food for lunch and dinner but breakfast I need something I can recognise. Fortunately I had brought some breakfast bars with me for situations such as these so ultimately I didn't go hungry. It was interesting experiencing traditional japanese life but I can't say that I took to it!

We had time for some sightseeing around Koyasan and headed for Kongobuji Temple where we were given an introduction by the head monk - in Japanese. We tried to look intelligent and attentive but I don't know if anyone told him that none of us spoke Japanese. We went on to the local cemetery, which proved very interesting. One of the first tombs we saw had a huge rocket stuck on top of it. This was the memorial where those who worked for the rocket making company could be buried or remembered on their plaque. We moved on to the memorial to the Nissan workers and even the socks and jocks manufucturers! After that it was back down the mountain and on to Hiroshima on the Shinkansen, the bullet train. On the way we stopped off at Himeji Castle, probably the finest castle in Japan and made totally of wood. We were lucky to see it as it is shortly going to be under restoration for a few years. It certainly was an amazing sight and we had an intersting guided tour before getting back on the train and arriving at Hiroshima where we had a hotel with soft beds and our own private bathroom!
 

Traditional Japanese living

We left Kyoto and headed up into the mountains on Japanese trains which, as you would expect, are clean, comfortable and full of amenities. It took us 3 trains to reach our destination. The second train took us slowly up into the mountains across deep ravines and clinging perilously to the steep hillside. How they managed to build it I will never know. When we weren't holding our breath as we inched slowly across a high bridge we were entertained by the ticket inspectors and Japanese train staff. Every time they entered and left a carriage they bowed to the occupants and murmured something in Japanese. Checking our tickets was done with the utmost courtesy. The scenery was striking as we left the plains and the city behind. There were lots of Japanese maple trees different to Canadian maples in that their leaves are very small and delicate. I had been hoping that I would hit the autumn colours but unfortunately it was too early and there was only a hint at times of stunning autumn colours to come. After the second train came a long funicular railway to take us higher and then a bus wound its way up the mountain to our temple lodging.

We were staying in a Shinto temple and this was our first taste of traditional Japanese living. At the temple entrance we had to take off our shoes and don the brown indoor slippers. Needless to say they weren't big enough for my plates of meat but I still managed to trip along in them. We were given our instructions: brown slippers had to be worn around the temple but at the entrance to our room we had to take them off and go in our socks on the bedroom tatami (mat). If we went to the toilet we had to leave the brown slippers at the door and put on the white toilet slippers. We had to remember to change out of the toilet slippers back into the brown slippers or we would commit a social indiscretion of walking around in the 'unclean' toilet slippers. Needless to say it didn't take long for one of us to forget and she received a horrified gasp from everyone and had to hurry back in embarrassment and get the right slippers.

Our room was interesting. It was quite large and covered with tatami mats and had walls of latticed wood filled with paper screens. Fortunately they were a lot tougher than you imagine and able to withstand normal rough housing from western hands and elbows. The room overlooked one of the temple's zen gardens with its raked gravel and the odd rock. We were tired and sank into our cushions in front of the sole low table. This was a novelty at first but quickly became a trial as westerners are not used to sitting on the floor. Even with the cushions pulled so you could rest your back on the wall (being wary of the paper screens!) it was still uncomfortable. We tried to get into the Japanese way of life and donned our yukatas, Japanese dressing gowns that we were expected to wear for dinner and went to investigate the onsun. There were no conventional bathrooms and if we wanted to wash we would have to do it the Japanese way. This required us to strip naked in the communal bath house, sit on a low stool and wash ourselves in full view of everyone else and then join the other ladies in the communal hot tub. Quite a challenge for privacy conscious westerners! Fortunately this would come later as it was time for dinner.