Daitokuji

Our visit to Daitokuji (a Buddhist complex in Kyoto) began with the most sacred of rituals, involving retirement to a secluded place in celebration of the nourishing and life-giving forces of nature so that one might achieve a heightened awareness and appreciation of the hours to follow.

I’m referring to lunch, of course. ; ) Our first stop in the temple complex was the Buddhist vegetarian restaurant, where our group feasted in our own little room on the most ridiculous (and I use this word in the North Carolina slang sense of it meaning “unbelievably amazing”) assortment of dishes filled with more delicious things then I could possibly imagine. There was taro. There was tempura. There was pickles. There was all manner of tofu—soft tofu, tofu skin, jellied tofu dipped in wasabi soy sauce with scallions. There was a vast array of unidentifiable but infinitely adorable and colorful tiny little servings of “stuff.” Everything was so immaculately laid out with such attention to detail that I really felt I was consuming art. Kazuko pointed out that Japanese cuisine focuses as much on texture as on flavor, and I really gained a new appreciation for this idea at this meal. One of the tofu sweet potato dishes was the most unusual consistency I had ever experienced, soft like normal silken tofu, but also slightly gelatinous with a bit of give, like pudding, but also slightly sticky or gummy, like tapioca or mochi. It was incredible. It contrasted quite sharply with the cool crunchiness of the pickles and the cucumbers, or the spiked warmth of the tempura. I realized that I do love texture, but had never consciously thought about it before. (See? Already ascending to that higher plane!)

Here are pictures of (most of) the things we ate for your viewing pleasure:

 Yep, we had to sit on the floor. Most of us remembered that women are NOT allowed to sit cross-legged, and sat the appropriate way. Horrible double standard!

 This is what arrived first. Little did we know there was so much more to come....

 Green tea whisked into a froth.

 Tofu. Oh so delicious tofu.

 Tofu skin, fish cake, a snap pea, and a white lily fruit in a tofu dumpling. Mmmm.

 This was my favorite. The white is a very gelatinous tofu and the greenish cubes are some kind of sweet potato. Soooo good. Notice how it's served in ice so it maintains its texture and structure.

 At the end of the meal, I stacked all the various plates we had been given. They all fit neatly into one another! Kazuko said this was the cheapest, simplest version of this type of meal. Can't imagine what the extravagant one would be like!

 Look--even the toothpick is made to look au-naturale.

After gorging ourselves on fare completely inappropriate for the ascetic Buddhist lifestyle, we proceeded to Zuihoin, a “sub-temple” known for its rock garden raked to look like waves of the ocean. The design was 3D, not just little squiggles in the gravel—it actually looked like waves rising up from the ground. Leila of course strongly desired to leap in for a good body surf, but we held her back. The other unusual thing about this temple was a rock garden laid out in the rough shape of a cross in deference to the temple’s founder, a warlord who later converted to Christianity. I don’t know that this is an example of religious syncretism per se, but it is certainly another example of the fluidity that seems to characterize the Japanese relationship with different belief systems to the extent that there seems to be no problem in borrowing here, mixing there, replacing over there. It is difficult to imagine the reverse situation—a Buddha placed in a chapel of a Catholic cathedral, or something? Jesus sitting on a lotus? Doesn’t jive. Here are some pictures of Zuihoin:

 A room for tea ceremony.

 The entrance to the tea ceremony room. When you enter, the host typically displays a fresh flower, chosen carefully to suit the guests preferences, and a scroll with a poem, painted especially for the occasion. The poem was usually not original, but either the host or a calligrapher hired by the host would select the poem and create the piece especially for that day.

 Jizo--these are little stone markers to commemorate aborted or miscarried children. The red bib is for the protection of the children.


Next stop was Daisenin sub temple, with more lovely rock gardens Leila had to control herself from scuffing up. Jessica cleverly snagged a laminated English guide and led us through features of the grounds representing a metaphorical journey through life. Most memorable to me was the aptly named “Wall of Doubt”—a simple wall with an arched window looking through to other side on which the “Treasure Boat” holding the accumulation of your life’s experiences emerges. Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures because cameras were not allowed inside.

We ended with the stunning bamboo and maple forests of Kotoin sub temple:

 Bamboo forest surrounding the temple.

 Inside of the temple. The doors on the left side are where the altar is located.

In the secluded courtyard gardens within, we all sat quietly and had our last Zen moment of the day. I think we all appreciated the moderate pace of the day that allowed us this time to experience what these temples were designed for—peaceful refuge from the rest of the world. As someone who has visited her fair share of Chinese Buddhist temples, I have to say I really appreciate what seems to be a much simpler, more natural aesthetic. The Chinese temples are often very beautiful, but it’s quite common to see elaborate paint jobs, gold lacquered Buddhas, gigantic Buddhas (I’m talking several stories tall, here. I hear Japan does have a giant Buddha, but I didn’t see any today), and other decorative pieces. In contrast, the temples we saw today were all natural wood, sparsely decorated. The gardens were not like the elegant Chinese gardens which almost always feature flowy trees, gentle lotus flowers, unusually and intricately shaped rocks, etc. Here I saw a lot of pine trees and simple gravel. I believe Kazuko called it a very “dry” environment—I thought that description very accurate. I for one also really enjoyed the feel of wood and tatami under my bare feet as I walked through these simple structures. Somehow, that skin to floor connection definitely brought a new dimension of present-ness to the experience.

Mind you, I got really aggravated every time I saw someone take off their shoes then step on the dirty floor first instead of directly on the clean floor. This is troubling to me, as I grew up in a shoeless household.  So. As I witnessed these small “missteps” today, I was having flashbacks to grad school, when my suitemate just didn’t understand why I wanted her to take off her shoes before coming into my room. I finally trained her to do so, but the thing is, she often walked around the rest of the suite (which people walked on in shoes all the time) in her bare feet, THEN came into my room with her bare, dirty feet, all proud of herself for following my rule. She didn’t understand that that defeated the purpose of taking off her shoes in the first place. Sigh. I kind of wanted to say something a couple of times today when I saw people doing this very thing, but, you know. It was a Zen day, so I just let it go. ;)

Here is a picture taken outside the temple (the picture is correct--bare feet on the floorboards, shoes on the floor). Notice the zigzag floorboards meant to help you take your shoes off on the actual floor, then have a clean place to walk to the temple entrance. Cool.

To more adventures (and hopefully more food rituals) tomorrow! And…this post is much longer that I thought it would be, just kinda kept typing. Congratulations to those who made it this far.