Koya-san

In the land of Wakayama, on the crest of Mount Koya, the Peace Lord Kobo Daishi forged in secret a master temple to empower all others, and into this temple he poured his wisdom, his insight, and his will to help all life. One temple to save them all. Bad joke? Yeah I think so too but I had too much fun writing it. Now, onto business. Koya-san, or Mount Koya in common English, is less one temple and more like a collection of temples high in the mountains of Wakayama Prefecture. It was founded at the turn of the 9th century and was originally a small monastery. Over the years the temple gained fame and a small town grew around it. It is now the head temple of the entire Shingon sect of Buddhism and the founder Kobo Daishi (Kûkai) is considered to be one of the most influential figures in Japan’s religious history.

For the casual: 10. For the educated: 10.

The trip to Koya-san deserves a full day and even then I doubt you will be able to see everything. The buildings in the complex are spread out over a large area, and sometimes the natural elements can get in the way of things. When I was there, a snow had fallen over the days before so there was a layer of snow and ice on everything. As cool as this made the whole trip (pun intended), there was also a very real danger of slipping and really hurting myself in the process. Anyways, the temple is distant at best and the halls deserve a bit of time to soak in and enjoy especially if the weather is good. But here’s some good news for those who like to collect goshuin, each building at Koya-san has its own goshuin, so it is very possible to leave the mountain top with 5, 6, 9, or even 10 new goshuin (I don’t know how many seals there actually are at the mountain). Don’t have a goshuincho? That’s alright because Koya-san has a very cool book which is made out of wood from the surrounding forest. That brings me to my next point, try to buy some things. Unlike a lot of the temples that you will regularly visit during your trip In Japan, Koya-san is an active temple and monastery where very real people are studying to be very real monks. The first time you see a monk walking down the street it will seem very strange, but after the 30th one passing you buy it gets rather mundane. Well, not mundane at all but you get my meaning. To that effect, many of the monks either engage in producing souvenirs, or they order such trinkets to raise money for the temple, so please consider supporting the temple which is operated on donations.

So I guess I’ll start with the main gate of the temple. Taking the bus up to the temple is a pretty fun experience as the landscape and trees change drastically as you climb. It had been, and still continues to be, a major dream of mine to see temples and shrines covered in fresh layers of snow. Despite the frosting I mentioned earlier, the day I went was on the warmer end of freezing so the white brilliance around me was slowly retreating into the shade as the day progressed. Small dustings of white powder on the sides of the road hinted at the potential beauty ahead, and it only got better as we climbed. Roofs were visible from below and the snow dividing the ridges of roof tiles reflected the sun’s light all around. As you get closer, the combination of snow, red paint, and slate-green roof tiles makes for a compelling and statement setting welcome. “This is Koya-san, and beyond my doors is where our holy worship is protected,” it seems to proclaim. Nio Guardians threaten those who seek the temple harm while ornamented wood carvings showcase the rewards for the faithful.

Beyond the main gate is the town. Very similar to almost any small town one might encounter in Japan, it has little shops for daily items, a convenience store for simple needs, and bald monks walking the streets in their robes. You know, the standard stuff. But what I really want to bring up is how normal this town is. It’s very similar to the small town where I am living at the time of me writing this. Most everyone keeps to themselves and goes about their daily lives, the only real differences are the monks walking around town, the massive temples that break the town into neighborhoods, and the number of tourists making their way from location to location. I’m sure the town changes drastically from the freezing snows of winter to the humid heat of summer.

The “center” of Koya-san is a complex called the Danjo Garan, the first site where Kobo Daishi began teaching Shingon esoteric Buddhism. Though not the main structure in the greater Koya-san complex, it does figuratively function as the largest and most grand section of the town, and so it is easy to draw visitors in. The Hondo and Great Stupa are the two main buildings after passing through the gate. The Hondo houses worship to Dainichi Nyorai (the Universal Buddha in English, Vairocana in Sanskrit), and reveres paintings and statues of Kobo Daishi. The Great Stupa is rumored to be the first two-story square pagoda in Japan, and at the looming height of about 50 meters tall ( 164 ft.), its bright red paint and size makes a commanding statement on the prominence of the temple. The Danji Garan is home to several other halls including the Hall of Portraits, considered one of the most important halls dedication to the personal contributions of Kobo Daishi. One corner of the complex which I personally enjoyed was a small shrine in the middle of a pond dedicated to one of the Seven Gods of Fortune: Benzaiten. This small shrine plays well with the balance of vermillion paint not only used for the shrine itself, but with the bridges on and off, the tall cedar pines, and the reflection of the water.

The true center of the temple complex is Kongobu-ji, the head temple of Japan’s Shingon sect of Buddhism, and from this temple are over 3,500 temple branches throughout the archipelago. In reference to the rest of the Koya-san complex and surrounding geography, Kongobu-ji is positioned at the center of the mountain. According to a guard I spoke to, when the Emperor of Japan dies, their soul is enshrined, their body is encased in an earthen tomb, and then their spirit is prayed to out of this temple. This connection between the Emperor and Koya-san speaks to the influence of the temple. The temple is known for a variety of sliding screen doors painted with ornate depictions of seasonal birds and flowers ranging in material from colored inks to metal flakes. Out the back is Japan’s largest rock garden which features formations that evoke the image of two dragons emerging from sea or clouds. The sliding doors, massive rock garden, and multitude of intricate carvings and gilt ornamentations, Kongobu-ji is definitively one of the most beautiful temples of Japan. As a reminder, please don’t be one of those tourists who ignores the “No Photography” signs. I was witness to a tourist learning that the hard way, and while it’s certainly embarrassing for the individual, it reflects poorly on foreign visitors in general so please be respectful of the signs.

Next is the Tokugawa Mausoleum, yet another example of the influence and intrigue that Koya-san has drawn through the ages. I’ll get to this point in a bit more detail later, but being buried or at least enshrined at Koya-san is a major achievement. To that end, thanks to the efforts of the third Tokugawa Shogun of the Edo Period, Tokugawa Iemitsu, the spirits of his grandfather (Tokugawa Ieyasu) and father (Tokugawa Hidetada) are enshrined in identical structures built in iconic opulent Edo Period architecture of gold, lacquer, and colorful wood carvings. The structure on the right is to Tokugawa Ieyasu, the founder of the Edo Period (1614-1868 C.E.) , and the one on the left is to Tokugawa Hidetada.

The last location I had time to visit is probably my favorite of the complex for both beauty reasons and nerdy reasons. The section is called Oku no In, and it is the cemetery of the complex. I mentioned before that there is a level of influence that is required to be buried at Koya-san, and that is because Kobo Daishi is buried at the far end of the cemetery. Well, to be more precise, it is believed that Kobo Daishi is not dead but rather in an eternal state of deep meditation awaiting the coming of Maitreya, the future Buddha, the Buddha who will find the way to enlighten all beings on Earth at the same time. Because of this, being buried with Kobo Daishi means receiving the gift of enlightenment earlier than others. As a result, many major figures are either buried or they have their spirits enshrined at Oku no In. Such figures include Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s family, Takeda Shingen and his son, emperors across the ages, the fallen soldiers that fought against Japan in its rare invasion campaigns, monks that have founded sects of Buddhism that have both risen and fallen, and so many more. Keep your eyes out for little info boards that help explain the mausoleums and grave markers. What makes this cemetery unlike any other I have seen is its size and natural beauty. This cemetery is over 2 kilometers long and branches out into the openings of the mountain slope like veins of a leaf. Many markers are centuries old and show that by how much moss is growing over the stone. In the warmer months the moss fans its vibrant greens and the massive cedar trees standing tall above cast dappled light which dances across the stones. In winter with the snow, it is often hard to draw the boundary between white granite graves and snow-covered eves. The cemetery is also known for filling with an earie fog that drapes itself over the ground and hangs motionless in the air. No matter what time of the year it may be, Oku no In has this sense that you have left the normal world behind and are now walking in a transient realm. At the end of the path is a small bridge and from this point on there is no photography allowed. Why? Beyond is the mausoleum of Kobo Daishi and many emperors and empresses throughout the ages, and so to pay your respects, no photos. I mentioned before a reminder about that, well from this point on are armored guards and they are more than happy to tell you what to do. If you’re lucky, groups of monks will be going through and offering prayers to different groupings of statues and figurines.

Also near the end of the path is a structure of Jizo figures making a great big pyramid. Jizo Bodhisattvas are protectors of children and of the household, and they tend to be fairly common in temples across Japan with little red caps and bibs to keep them comfortable, but they sadly have a very somber meaning. A Jizo statue is a marker for a child that lost its life. I bring this up because as beautiful as this part of the complex is, it’s also very sad. Jizo statues are placed all along the main paths into and out of Oku no In from large statues of the Bodhisattva to small little figurines nestled into the spaces between roots. Since this was one of my main take-aways from the trip, I though it would be best to end this entry with a reminder to you as the reader, no, more like a moral from my travels: these temples are great and beautiful places that honor the patrons and figures that help define them, but there are also people who come to these places to find piece of mind from their grieving. It’s easy to forget that temples are built to prepare their congregation for death and to offer those who have lost a loved one an opportunity to grieve, pray, and heal; a notion that I can atest to. I often forget this idea when visiting temples, but on this trip, seeing Jizo figurines in almost every possible location, I was reminded of this sobering ideal that temples truely strive for. Whether it’s the grandeur of the buildings, the serenity of the gardens, or even the cute smiling statues adorning worn stone paths, our minds push away what is easy to hide. Temples are places to honor the dead and to pray for them to find happiness, and so while I encourage you to enjoy these figures, please don’t forget that these figures were placed by mothers and fathers who lost their greatest treasures too early.

This two-story pagoda is rumored to be the first one built in Japan.

 

Daigoji

Though hidden, Daigoji is no secret to those who wish to see the spectacles of Kyoto. In a quiet community in eastern Kyoto, Daigoji puts on some of the most spectacular natural shows in Japan with cherry blossoms in Spring and the changing of leaves in Autumn. Each year thousands of spectators and hungry photographers descend on the temple to get that perfect photo, and as one of those people, I can say with certainty that the temple does all the work. The temple was first established in the 9th century at a location higher in the hills above the current complex as a monastery for study. With large patronage from multiple emperors over its early years, the complex expanded and became more lavish to look more like what it is today. As a temple of the Shingon sect, its primary triad is of Yakushi, the Buddha of Medicine and Healing.

For the casual: 10. For the educated: 10.

Let me start by saying that this temple deserves a TOURIST TRAP warning depending on the time of the year. Sometimes the quest for that perfect photo draws a lot of competition to get the best shot. I recommend a calm state of mind and a great deal of patience. And some good luck ^-^.

Like any good complex, Daigoji is broken up into several sections. The first I wish to write about is the Main Drawing Room (Omote Shoin). The building is classic aristocratic architecture from the Heian Period which looks out on a lovely garden. Many of the sliding doors and carvings within the building are designated as National Treasures and photos are not allowed. Many of the screens are replaced on a regular basis to match the seasonal themes, but all in all the screens are up fairly often and depict anything from birds and trees to flowers and clouds made of flakes of silver and gold , reflective minerals, and colorful paints.

The next section I wish to discuss is the on site museum called the Reihokan. Many major temples in Japan are filled with treasures that they have collected over the centuries. Storage needs, damage to housing structures, and preservation concerns can cause some of the larger temples to establish their own museum of treasures so that they can better manage and share the collection. In this case, the Reihokan is home to several thousand National Treasures, Important Cultural Artifacts, and other designations. Most of the items are small like carvings and scrolls, but others are large wood carvings, old sections of the temple which were removed for restoration, and larger hanging scrolls. The Reihokan has some small intimate rooms to enjoy some of its smaller pieces and a large main section for its main pieces. Though not always open to the public, please take some time to visit if it is open.

The last part of the complex is essentially the main part of the complex. In this section are the main halls, specialty halls, and a five-story pagoda. You can also describe this part of the temple as the photography heaven. The trees are lush, the space is wide, and the opportunities to take some really fun photos are plenty. There are a few places that stand out more than others for photo possibilities. The first is the main hall with the Yakushi triad. It’s not a super fancy hall, but the spacing of the statues and the symmetry of the building make for some fun experiments. The Five-Story Pagoda is another one because as the trees change through the year guests can have ever changing views of the building. Another favorite for me was the Fudo Hall, dedicated to Fudo Myo’o. Like the main hall there’s a fun sense of symmetry to the space but a large stone statue of Fudo Myo’o in front draws a lot of cool energy to the area. The most famous structure is almost at the very back of the complex and it’s a small building in a lake to Benzaiten, one of the Seven Gods of Fortune. The appeal is not for the building itself, but instead the trees around it which turn bright and brilliant red. This corner of the temple brings people from around the world to take those lucky photos of the seasonal colors. In this area in particular I recommend a heavy dosage of patience as there will typically be people in your shot, and a little good will doesn’t hurt.

It’s important to note that there is one more section to this complex and that is the natural wood monastery in the mountains that served as the original temple. This area of the temple however, is no longer available to visit because of severe damage received from Typhoon Jebi in September of 2018. There is no known timeline of when the buildings will reopen, but hopefully it won’t be too long. Supposedly on a clear day you can see Osaka from there.

 

Sanjusangen-do

Sanjusangen-do, or as it’s temeple name of Rengeo-in, is a temple hall in the Higashiyama area of Kyoto across from the Kyoto National Museum of Art. The temple was originally built in the 12th century by famed samurai Taira no Kiyomori, but was rebuilt in the 13th century after the hall burned down due to fire. Over the years other major patrons like Toyotomi Hideyoshi constructed gates and halls around the center hall of the temple. The temple name, meaning “the hall with thirty three spaces between the columns,” may not inspire the same kind of opulance or grandeur like Kinkakuji (The Golden Pavilion), or Tenryuji (Temple of the Heavenly Dragon), but in many ways I would argue that it is certainly at the forefront of major structures in the Kyoto area. The main hall is designated as a National Treasure, and as I will write in the next section, I hope to pursuade you to see the same.

For the casual: 10. For the educated: 11.

If you’ve been reading my posts, you may have noticed that I haven’t graded a location above a 10 on this scale. Only two places have received such distinction in my book prior to this post: Tôdaiji and Nikko Tôshôgû. I firmly believe that this is one of the best places to visit in Japan, especially in the Kyoto area because of its art, its history, its culture, and its appeal. The building has a curious mysteriousness to it even though it’s not much of a secret destination. For one, it’s not a tall building and it lacks other features like pagoda or large gates to distinguish itself from the surrounding city. Structures like Tôdaiji are visible from miles away because of just how huge it is, Kinkakuji glitters in golden sunlight, other places will even have massive gates or sprawling forests with winding trails to the main buildings, but none of that is at Sanjusangen-do. Instead, the grounds are surrounded with a plaster wall and a large sign hanging off said wall with the name of the temple. So the outside isn’t super inspiring and there’s very little standing out to draw your attention or curiosity. But once you pay for your ticket to pass the wall, things start to look better. The grounds are well managed with beautiful old trees known for their annual blossoms, while the occasional ceremony performed outside draws in additional guests. The grounds however are not nice enough for the ranking, but from the grounds you can see at least a hint of the temple’s appeal, namely the massive main hall. The temple is specifically built around the Sanjusangen Hall, and when you first see it the curiosity meter spikes. The hall is about 120 meters (~393 feet) long and the idea that there are thirty three “spaces” between the pillars begins to speak to the importance of what is inside. Inside?

Even before I had been to Kyoto for the first time, I had heard about this amazing temple where there was a vast trove of statues. The idea had been lost to the back of my mind until the fateful day when my friend and I decided to poke our heads inside to find some Autumn leaves for photographing. We made our way to the hall’s entrance, being considerate of the massive signs everywhere asking guests not to take pictures of the inside of the hall (they will take your camera and check the memory if you bring one in). We turned the corner into the smoke filled walkway where the air was an intoxicating mixture of wonderful incense and ancient wood. That was when it hit us, the grandeur, the spectacle, and the very real urge to pull out our cameras and start documenting absolutely everything (we didn’t because the guards and signs are more than willing to remind you not to). This is where things get real. The hall is almost 400 feet long because it’s not home to a couple, a dozen, or even a hundred statues, instead it’s home to 1,001 statues of the Bodhisattva of Compassion, Kannon. With a single main statue of the “Thousand-Armed” Kannon, the 1,000 smaller statues stand at attention, 500 figures flanking each side of the main statue, to witness the suffering of humanity. I call these statues small, but they’re all really human sized. Each statue has 11 heads to watch over all of humanity, and each statue has a total of 42 arms including the two main arms. You may be wondering, why are they called “Thousand-Armed” Kannon if they only have 42 arms? Well. if you subtract the two main arms to make 40 arms, and multiply by the 25 planes of existence, then you come out with a total of 1,000 arms.

As an additional visual feast, we dive into iconic visuals of Buddhism. Now if you’re at all familiar with the basics of Buddhism, you’ll likely recall that a Buddha is any being that has gained enlightenment by casting off their attachments to the world around them. Please note that as mentioned, any enlightened being is called a Buddha, but any reference to “the Buddha” indicates the historical Buddha named Siddhartha Gautama, an Indian prince that left the life of wealth and began the practices of Buddhism. Ok, my scholarly side has had its say. As such, these figures are depicted in art as wearing little more than humble robes. But Bodhisattvas are not fully enlightened and their last attachment to the world is their desire to help the suffering of everyone who has yet to open enlightenment. Therefore they are not depicted in simple robes, but are adorned with fantastic jewelry and crowns to visually represent the last connections to the world by referencing Siddhartha’s past as a prince.

Now back to the statues. We have established that there are 1,001 statues in total, 1,000 of which are human-sized, and now we’ve established that since all of these statues depict a Bodhisattva, each statue is adorned in brilliant wealth. Now for the new stuff: each statue is gilt, so the whole sight is just golden eye-candy. Can you begin to imagine why we wanted to take pictures? The whole experience was just a rush of the senses. The smells, the sights, and the sounds were all intoxicating. I mention in my advice page that visiting sacred sites in Japan is always planned with specific sights, sounds, feelings, and smells to invoke a deeper reaction to the faith. Sanjusangen-do has certainly climbed to the top of my rankings for this reason alone. So if you have time to visit this temple, please please please do.

 

Nakayama-dera

Founded in the 12th century, Nakayama-dera is a temple dedicated to Kannon, the Bodhisattva of Compassion. If you have been reading my posts or have visited Japan yourself, you probably have noticed that Kannon has at least a hall in dedication to the deity in almost every temple complex, and it’s easy to see why. Compassion is a form of relief that we all strive to obtain no matter what the situation. As such, Kannon is one if not the most popular Bodhisattva in Japan if not all of Buddhism. But Nakayama is slightly different from other temples to Kannon because it focuses on a specific kind, or genre, of compassion; namely for and around child birth. Nakayama-dera is a temple solely dedicated to the well being of mothers and newborns. Even the goshuin from the temple are varied based on the condition of the mother. There are goshuin pre-conception, others for midterm, and others for newborns. Prayer services focus on the familiy and call upon Kannon to bless them with good fortune during a major transition in any family’s timeline.

For the casual: 5. For the educated: 5.

Even though I marked this location as only a 5 out of 10, I believe it has much more to offer than just that. For one, the location is a really great one. Up in the hills between Osaka and Kobe, it overlooks the greater Osaka area with very little resistance. Second, the community surrounding the temple is lovely. Nakayama-dera is nestled in a suburban community which means that there are cute little shops, stalls, and cafes all around, not to mention the lovely reprieve from the bustling noise of city life. Third, the temple is extremely considerate of the women in particular who are coming to the temple to pray. I mentioned earlier that the temple is on a hill and in Japan hills are not gentle; they rise and fall with very little hesitation. This means that there are multiple flights of stairs that are equally not as gentle as one would like especially when being weighed down by a human. So how does this compassionate temple respond? They install outdoor escalators for you to use if the stairs are simply too difficult to use.

Another reason I found this temple a great place to visit was because of the sights. The temple buildings are covered in vibrant colored paintings with beautiful and fantastical creatures on almost every wall. For those alone I would recommend the trip to anyone with a pension for art. The five-story pagoda is also slighty irregular but facinating with a blue-purple color painted atop the wood wich both complements the dark colors of the exposed wood and ceramic roof tiles, but also stands out without being loud.

If you’re looking for a place to enjoy the Kansai area with a kind of overlooking and quiet vibe, there are very few other places I would recommend apart from Nakayama-dera.