Crazed Monks, a Mystery Garden, and a Strange Box

Perhaps the most famous of all temples in Japan is the Golden Pavilion.  It was originally built in the 1300s, but burned down recently (in the 1950s) by a novice monk.  But now it's rebuilt, covered in gold leaf, and attracts millions of tourists a year.

Reflecting gold in the pond

As I mentioned before, temples traditionally have a box for offerings near a large rope connected to a bell or gong.  

Nearby was the Ryoan-ji Temple, with a beautiful lake covered in lili pads.

Buddah in the garden.

The highlight of Ryoan-ji Temple is a rock garden, with large stones floating like islands in a sea of raked gravel.  

No matter what your vantage points, you can't see all the stones at once.  (I suppose there is a Zen lesson in this).  However, that doesn't stop the tourists and schoolchildren from trying to count them from various places along the temple walkways.  

A point to whoever can guess how many rocks float in the rock garden sea.

Inside, there are beautifully illustrated sliding screen doors.

The gardens outside are less rocky, and more mossy.

Again, I see a "stone family", this time with aprons.

Two tourists in kimonos.

Next, I walk into the Ninna-ji Temple.

This temple complex was much older, and used to serve as a home for the Imperial Family.  It was then converted into a temple in the 800s.  

In the back garden of the temple, a five-story pagoda peaks out from over the tree-tops.

Sunset over a pagoda.

On my way back to the hotel, I stopped by a 7-11 (yes, they have 7-11s in Japan!) to grab breakfast for the next day.  While there, the happy woman behind the counter brought out two boxes from behind the counter with holes in them.  She motioned and spoke quickly in Japanese about these two strange boxes.  I had no idea what she was saying.  So she mimed to me that I should stick my hand into one of the holes of these boxes.  Huh?  I very slowly put my hand into the box, wincing slightly, half expecting something to bite my hand or to coat my hand in slimy goo.  But I found only tiny slips of paper in the box.  I grabbed one, showed it to the smiling woman, and she gave me a free beer! 

Free Japanese mystery beer from a box!

Finding Zen

Perhaps one of the most peaceful places I visited in Japan was the Arashiyama region.  A giant river flowed lazily through unbelievably  green mountains of maple and bamboo.

On my way across the bridge, I run into two Geishas.

Several boats were on the river, propelled only by large bamboo poles.

 

I head up into the mountains, one of the only tourists on a long, green path that snaked its way along the river, going deeper into the green valleys.  As I walked, I came across many Shinto shrines, their orange tori gates in beautiful contrast to the green of the trees around me.

I also came across some pretty strange signs.  I don't know what this sign is supposed to mean, but I'm guessing it can't be good. 

The leaves of the maples were amazing - like interlocking fractals.

The trees come to life!

Here's an example of a restaurant in Japan.  At restaurants like this, it's not too hard to order, since all I have to do is find something I like and point.

Rickshaws under the hot Japan sun.

On the other side of the river, I visited Tenryu-ji Temple, built in 1339.  However, since it is wood, it was repeatedly destroyed by fires, like many of the temples like it.

Even though the temple had to be rebuilt several times, the gardens retain their original form over hundreds of years.  The gardens of temple were large, and incorporated the scenery of the mountains behind them.

This part consisted of raked white gravel.

In the pond, a frog gazes upon the pile of coins thrown to it.

Inside, a screen with a famous dragon painted upon it.

Escaping the crowds of Japanese school children, I find some quiet in the back passageways of the temple.

Inside the temple itself, more painted screens.

A woman sits and practices calligraphy.

I saw stone "families" like this wherever I went.  Sometimes they are just rocks, and sometimes they are wearing bits of faded cloth like aprons.  This one was carved.

Nearby, I pass through a forest of bamboo.

Now it's time to get lost!  As I head towards my next destination, I pass through nameless streets that criss-cross each other, through residential streets, up hills and through forests.

Now horribly lost, I take a picture of a map I find on the road in hopes that it will help. (haha)  

Along the roads, I saw a lot of very tall bamboo stalks, one on each side of the road, supporting something hanging from them.  I still don't understand their significance.

More beautiful forest.

Finally, I reached the Gio-ji temple.  I think it was quite possibly the most beautiful, serene, and quiet place I've ever been to.  I was one of only a few visitors (in sharp contrast to the crowds of Japanese school children at the other temples I visited).  The garden was covered in a deep green moss, and towering trees kept all but the scantest of sunlight from the ground.  Behind it was a forest of white bamboo.  It was breathtaking.  My picture doesn't even do it justice.

Inside the quiet, humble temple.

In the corner of the temple sat a very old graveyard, covered in more moss.

On the way home, I ran into another temple.  (They really are everywhere!)

And finally, one of the reasons I like Japan so much... baseball!  Yes, a culture that really does have its priorities straight!