FALL COMES TO KASEDA, ACCOMPANIED BY GRIEF

October turned into a most glorious time.  I guess glorious is a word I always associate with the color of autumn leaves, and then those quiet whispers that you almost hear as leaves gently fall to the ground.  Fall, yes, I think it is glorious, with lovely temperatures and blue skies.  It awakened my senses as I rode around the countryside visiting my schools, taking the bus into the city to do a little shopping, or walking around town or riding the bicycle I found locked up at my apartment.  

Once my school day finished I had few responsibilities except to myself.  I found freedom like I had never known.  As soon as I left school,  I would change clothes and head out with my camera and binoculars.  I was out to see what I could find:  birds, flowers and trees and sometimes new friends.  But whatever the final destination, usually my route turned right and took me a mile or so up the street to Takeda Jinja. 

The walk from the shrine to adjoining pond and gardens is this way, up an ancient path of stones.

Stone finally wears down with hundreds of years of wear.  I walked where others had trod barefooted or in rope woven sandals centuries before me.  (This is the site of the grave of Shimadzu Nisshin Kou, dated 1540, and explained further in paragraphs below)

The road follows alongside Takeda Jinja.

Fall was all around but the photos tell the story.  The true glory was at Takeda Jinja with its 500 year old history, the mosses, the worn stone path, the large old trees and the magnificent quiet.  Whenever I came across the priest out on the main open building I would proceed quietly, and watch from afar to grasp some idea of what he might be doing.  Sometimes I caught him in the midst of blessing a new born baby, or waving the stick with white folded papers over a new car.  I assumed this was meant to keep those inside safe on their travels.  

The Torii signifies entrance to the Shinto Shrine and the Shrine itself is up the steps and beyond the stone terrace.  The place to cleanse is to the left of the shrine and then one can say a prayer  in front of the shrine.  Cleansing uses a bamboo dipper and water from a stone basin that is poured over the hands and wiped with your own cloth handkerchief. Properly using the dipper includes holding it up so the water rinses where your hand held the bamboo.  Some also rinse their mouths out.

Guardian figures protect the hallowed grounds.

Kagoshima Ken and Kaseda were ruled by a daimyo beginning in the 12th Century.  This area was governed by the Shimadzu Clan and in the 1500's, this shrine was begun.  This guarded area led back to the grave of Shimadzu Nisshin Kou, and his number three son Nachisa Kou.  Nisshin kou died in 1568.  Some samurai were also buried in the graves here.  This daimyo system led to areas that were protected and good daimyo families, like the Shimadzus, led the people to better agricultural methods, cultural studies like the study of tea ceremony, and valuing each individual's contributions to the betterment of the group, via their ceramics, paintings, writings, etc.

This path goes around the lily-covered pond.

Depending on the season, many lilies bloomed in the pond.

Always I went to the prayer altar, clapping and bowing my head to ask God to look after my family and friends and myself.  I prayed to my God and I always felt him here in this Shinto place.  Thankfully, he answered and took care of us.  Because while Fall  in all its glory came to Kaseda, my first October overseas also brought to full circle the seasons of life as I was called upon to attend two funerals about 3 weeks apart. 

One was for a fellow teacher who had arrived just like I had in August.  She was teaching about 30 miles away and had purchased a motor bike.  She was sadly killed in a very tragic accident, and while I never heard all the details, I always felt it had to do with Japanese driving laws.  They drive on the left side as they do in the U.K.  Even as a pedestrian it was difficult to remember the trick in crossing the street was looking to the right before stepping out into the street. And the slow lane for traffic was on the left.

All available ALTs from Kagoshima Ken, those that could get to the small town from their locations, came for the viewing and to pay respects, shedding tears and openly weeping.  It was most similar to what we have here, a viewing room filled with flowers and seats.  They were filled with many of her schools' teachers, students  and Japanese friends she had made in those two months.

  

There was also a tatami room, a large one, where mourning could take place seated kneeling on the floor, seiza style.  Seiza is painful if you are not accustomed to doing it, it's on the knees, calves and toes behind and back fairly straight.  Children in the old days attended school in this position, sitting on the floor.  Older people in Japan could still do this.  Now, over 25 years later, I don't know if they can.  I couldn't hold the position for very long then, and don't even try it now.

A young and vibrant person had been taken from us and her family; and the shock was that as wonderful as this opportunity was for all of us, we were not invulnerable.  We were all so sorry for the family.  We grieved and could not imagine how this would affect a family thousands of miles away.

After this weekend of tragedy, I walked into my office to find my supervisor anxiously awaiting me.  The ALT that had been a tragic traffic fatality had my same first name. Evidently he had had a period of shock as he thought it had been me.  I was told in NO uncertain terms would I EVER be allowed to buy a motor bike.  I was stunned and also glad for him that I did not want one, so I could comply.  At my age I wasn't used to hearing such orders.  But the underlying order was totally cultural and coming from a kind heart.  He cared about me, and he was responsible for overseeing my well being.

Just weeks later I got another phone call.  A member from our office that no one had told us about had lost his long battle with cancer.  The office lady calmly but firmly told me that Brian and I must attend the funeral service.  I tried to protest because Brian was a couple of hundred miles away for the weekend so I would be alone on this official representation.  I did not want to do anything that could badly reflect on our office, our program or myself.

This would be a very formal affair, and although I had been to see a viewing for a fellow teacher with so many of the other foreign teachers, for the funeral  I would have to dress formally in all black, find my way to a Buddhist Temple somewhere in the city and be aware of the formalities that needed to be observed.  I felt inept to handle it all, but Tomomi san was firm, and said she would sit with me and tell me every step that I would need to take.   But most of the time we would just need to sit and listen.  I had to call Nancy to borrow a black blazer, and I set out to do what needed to be done.

After all, I was glad that I had attended.  Although I had nothing to really do but be present, my presence made the office numbers complete. All were there to show respect and grieve.  My supervisor came to me as the formalities ended, bowed and asked me to accompany him.  I was surprised because he took me straight to the casket where we bowed and had  a moment of silence.  I didn't know this person, but I did not need to speak the language to see the love and respect his fellow workers had for him.  Not only the education board was there but so were all the wives.  He was more than a co-worker. They had lost someone that was like family to them.   Now I understood better.  If I came, there would be no questions about why I was not there.  My supervisor could grieve, and not have to answer questions about me, and Brian was also spared from questions that I had answered for him

Though Fall proved to be glorious, it was also a reflective time about why I was there and what was most important.  That's usually pretty easy for me - family.  I had enough money and sent it home so that my older son could get a ticket to visit over the Christmas and New Year holidays, while he would be on break from college.  He surprised me by saying he was bringing his girl friend.  I placed some very large stars on my calendar and forgot about counting to the one year deadline when I would return home.  Now I could just count down to Christmas.