Suzumushi-dera

Suzumushi-dera, or Kegonji as it is officially named, is a temple nestled into the woods south of Arashiyama in western Kyoto. While I’m sure many would have heard of Arashiyama before, I doubt many people would be familiar with this temple. The temple receives its moniker Suzumushi-dera for the populations of bell crickets it breeds and raises all year round for their popular chirping.

For the casual: 10. For the educated: 2.

So let’s start with some basics. This is not a temple founded by a special person, for a special reason, or home to special artifacts. If that’s what you’re looking for then you want the other temple just up the road which can only be visited after making a reservation via postcard. This temple is really great for casual visitors because it doesn’t require any extra information to thoroughly enjoy.

Founded in the 18th century, Kegonji was a humble local temple in western Kyoto, but a few decades ago the chief grounds keeper, a fan of the sounds of crickets, would rest after a long day of work by enjoying the warm summer nights and listening to them chirping. Believing that crickets embodied many of the ideals of buddhist principles, he began raising a population of crickets in the temple. After years of breeding and research, the temple is home to several thousand bell crickets, suzumushi in Japanese, that chirp throughout the year instead of their typical brief presence in autumn. Visitors to the temple are welcomed indoors in groups every hour to enjoy tea and a 30 minute sermon led by one of the monks who explains not only the crickets chirping away in their boxes at the front of the room, but also how the guests can incorporate more mindfulness in their every day lives. When it’s over, the guests leave through the garden. Be sure to say a prayer at the Jizo statue out front. This statue is unique because he is wearing sandals, a small detail that implies that Jizo will personally deliver your prayer to you.

 

Saijo Inari-san Myokyoji

Ok, so I’m not going to lie, this is a shrine, so why would I put it here? Well, the answer to that is because when I visited, it felt more like a temple than a shrine. There is a massive temple hall as well as burial halls, and then behind all that are a series of small shrines. Every major structure in the complex was a purely Buddhist building and everything related to shinto was small and in the back. I’ll gladly accept criticism from anyone that says that this should be a shrine instead of a temple, and who knows, maybe I’ll switch it over, but until then the most prominent and lasting impression was that it was a temple, despite the massive torii down the street.

Saijo Inari-san Myokyoji is a temple/shrine complex in the Kibi Plain in Okayama Prefecture. The complex is best known for being one of the Three Great Inari Shrines along with Fushimi Inari Taisha in Kyoto, and Toyokawa Inari in Aichi Prefecture. It now is mostly known for the buddhist services it provides for the area at Myokyoji founded by Ho-on Daishi, a monk of the Tendai sect of Buddhism. The temple would later change sects in the 17th century when it was rebuilt.

For the casual: 4. For the educated: 5.

I think the most interesting thing about this location is the knowledge that before the separation of temples and shrines during the Meiji Restoration in the 19th century, this is how all religious sites were set up. Every complex was a composition of shinto and buddhist buildings and practices. Some complexes focused on one belief over another, but all in all there was some aspect of both faiths to each place. But what can I say, Saijo Inari is certainly a break from the traditional mold, but that also makes it rather off-putting in my mind. There is a small shopping street at the front of the complex, but it appeared to be largely abandoned almost like in a post-apocalyptic scene. Then there’s the main building which is for the buddhist rites, but is also adorned with a shimenawa (shinto rope) above the doorframe. Behind the main building is a small shrine to finding love with the original main hall of the temple behind that. The original main hall is far more modest than the current one, but this is also where I have the most problem with calling this complex a shrine: though the original main hall is surrounded by small fox shrines to Inari, the main buildings are all dedicated to Buddhist practices.

In the surrounding hills are a variety of other small buildings and monuments, but overall they’re just not really that necessary to see if you’re not interested. And that was my problem with this complex, I really had trouble finding much of a spark of interest to the location. I enjoyed the original main hall and the surrounding Inari shrines, but besides that I was just not interested. Perhaps if I visited again when the pandemic is over I will be able to find a greater interest in everything, but I really I just wasn’t that amazed with the layout, the art, architecture, or history.

 

Gakuenji

In the mountains north of Izumo Taisha, overlooking the Sea of Japan, the small temple of Gakuenji has been standing since at least the 5th century C.E. There have been various mythologies regarding the founding of the temple, but it was built to pray for healing Empress Suiko who was suffering from an eye infection. The temple was founded and then it was expanded upon until the complex spread across the mountain ravine in which it was built. Over the years however, it has sadly fallen into disrepair so there are really only a few buildings. But, because of renewed interest from tourists, there are a variety of projects in the works to continue to preserve and repair the various buildings of the complex.

For the casual: 8. For the educated: 8.

The appeal of this temple is genuinly the forest it’s built in. In the summer the leaves are vibrant green and still moist with the humid air, in autumn the leaves turn bright red and orange, winter brings the occasional blanketing of snow, and spring is known for the explosion of flowers in bloom. Each of the buildings is also weathered, portraying the years that each wood pannel has seen. But overall I think my favorite part of the complex was the moss. There is moss covering everything, and it’s that beautiful rich green that also looks more like a fine carpet than a plant. It’s really and incredible sight to behold.

There is a building outside of the main complex up the road a few hundred meters which has a small building built into a cliffside behind a water fall. This building in particular is refereced in the various tourism advertisements for Shimane Prefecture and the Izumo area. I was unable to see this building for myself due to an encroaching thunderstorm, but I look forward to my chance to see it in person.

 

Kôsanji

Founded in 1936 on the island of Ikuchijima in Hiroshima Prefecture by Kôsan Wajo, a successful businessman in Osaka, Kôsanji was built over the course of 30 years in dedication to the passing of his mother. The temple is a collection of buildings based on noted originals all across Japan ranging in style from the Asuka Period in the 6th and 7th centuries, to the Edo Period in the 17th through 19th centuries. Nikkô Tôshôgû’s Yomeimon is the central gate, Byôdô-in’s Phoenix Hall is the central structure, and the pagodas are based on those of ancient Nara at Hôryûji and Yakushiji. Kôsanji is a temple known for its flashy colors and austentacious architecture.

For the casual: 10. For the educated: 4.

This is a temple for the casual visitor not only because of how outgowing the entire complex is, but also becauase it has so many famous building replicas in one place, you can kind of say that you’ve seen what needs to be seen. I mean, I still urge you the reader to see the original structures, but I can’t fault you for not wanted to travel great distances to see the same buildings. The temple is also home to a small collection of art collected by Wajo-san over his lifetime, many of the pieces being nihonga silk paintings.

Naturally the biggest draw to the temple are the buildings. Each one is a replica of some of the most beloved and outstanding pieces of architecture ranging across Japan’s history. To make it even more dramatic, each building is also painted in bright colors, certainly a throwback to the aesthetics established by the Edo period shoguns. Visitors are able to experience the change in structures as they climb up the different levels of the hillside this structure is founded upon. For added drama, there is also a tunnel graciously referred to as the “Hell Tunnel” because of the stone effigies and statues depicting the various Buddhist hells that await the non-devout. Due to the coronavirus, the tunnel was not available when I visited, so I have little more to say on the matter, but I’m also kind of glad because I think I would have had to crouch most of the journey through.

Behind the complex as a whole is a monument park carved out of Italian marble. The park is called Hope Hill and is supposed to portray not only a balance and harmony between humans and nature, while also emphasizing the importance of familial relationships. Personally I had a hard time enjoying this area. Part of it was because of how hot it was. The white marble reflects so much heat right back at you it can be a little overwhelming, but also I for one couldn’t see the desired tensions and harmonies implied by the artist. I’m sure that if it had been explained to me I would have had a greater enjoyment of it all, but for the most part it was lost on me. I will say that I enjoyed watching little kids playing around the stones, or listening to them cry about random things. Overall it’s a nice little area to walk around above the temple with a nice view of the town and sea, but ultimately the temple doesn’t need this attachment to the complex.

Byôdô-in’s Phoenix Hall

Nikkô Tôshôgû’s Yomeimon.