Exploring Hamada (12K)
January 22, 2005
To
see 55 high res photos of this walk, click here
| Today I am off on an urban adventure.
My plan is to explore the port city/town of Hamada. With a population
of about 50,000, it is small for a city, but it does have a university.
I usually prefer to stay away from towns if I can, but while studying
my maps I noticed that Hamada has an unusually high number of shrines.
During the Meiji Period (1868-1912) the government made some drastic
changes to the religious landscape of Japan. One of these changes
was a policy of "One Shrine, One Village" whereby they
tried to reduce the number of shrines. The logic was that if you
had 3 or 4 shrines in your neighborhood, then you had 3 or 4 times
as many festivals... which meant drinking, dancing, and most importantly,
not working. The government was hell-bent on turning the population
into the work-obsessed people they are today, and this was just
one measure they took. In all about half of all the shrines in the
country were closed or "merged" with other shrines. The
measure was not at all popular, and some places, Hamada included,
simply ignored the rule. Interestingly, 2 of the ideologues who
drafted the One Shrine law came from Tsuwano, a town close to Hamada. |
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| I leave the bustle and noise
of the station area, cross the tracks towards the sea and soon come
to the first shrine on my planned itinerary. Its on a steep hillside
behind some houses, and I take a set of steep, stone stairs that
weaves in and up the hill. Half way up there is a small temple.
Next to it, another staircase that leads up to the shrine. To find
a shrine and a temple right next to each other is a common occurrence,
as before the Meiji Period, most shrines were part of Shrine-Temple
complexes. Another Meiji law seperated shrines from temples, creating
the artificial situation that exists now. This is a Tenmangu shrine,
and he is generally known as a Kami for studying. Students wanting
to pass an exam or improve their grades will petition this Kami.
The shrine has a small Kaguraden, a building for the performance
of kagura. Hamada is a town obsessed with kagura. Back down the
steps and 200 metres along the road I reach the second shrine, set
back from the road. With its distinctive large Shimenawa (sacred
rope) this is a branch shrine of Izumo Taisha Kyo. Technically a
sect of Shinto, it is treated as mainstream Shinto, and worships
the primary Kami of Izumo, Okuninushi.. I now turn off the main
road and enter the township/village of Matsubara, and its like entering
a different world. Small narrow, crowded streets, and free of traffic
noise. Right ahead I come to the next shrine, a small one, but somehow
pleasant. It has a kagura-den. I discover that it has a female kami.
For whatever reason, I get nicer vibes from goddesses than gods.
There is a fascinating local legend
about this goddess, Amenotoyotarashikarahime ( a mouthful
in any language), that explains the origin of this regions name,
Iwami. Heading on through the village (for that is what it is even
though it is in a city) I head towards the sea and pass another
shrine tucked up against the hillside. Its a Suga shrine, but I
have no idea about its kami. In a 100 metres or so I reach the low
sea wall and get a view of the inlet and out to the open sea. The
sea is a beautiful turquoise today, and quite reminds me of Cornwall,
though just about any sea view in Japan is marred by the unsightly
piles of concrete tetrapods that are placed everywhere. Walking
along the narrow road that hugs the coast, passing a small, red,
buddhist structure, I come to the next shrine, a Konpira shrine. |
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| Konpira is a kami for protection
at sea, so they are fairly common around fishing villages. Originally
from India (where he is named Kubira), the head shrine of Konpira
is on Shikoku, and during the Edo period, at the height of the pilgrimage
boom, rivalled the Grand Shrine at Ise in popularity, receiving
millions of pilgrims with many millions more possessing Konpira
amulets and talismans. The honden is built in amongst a rock outcropping,
and curiously the chigi (the cross-shaped pieces on the roof) are
set at right angles to each other, implying, so it seems to me,
that the internal space of the rectangular honden bends. Ive never
seen that before. I head back the way I came and cross over to the
hill on the other side of Matsubara, to another shrine with connection
to the sea. Its a branch shrine of Itsukushima, whose main shrine
is on Miyajima in Hiroshima, and is probably the most-photographed
shrine in Japan. Itsukushima enshrines 3 goddesses who were born
from Amaterasu and her brother Susano. Some choose one or the other
to be the parent, maybe out of uncomfortableness with the idea of
incest. Amaterasu spat them out after chewing her brothers sword
into pieces, so they both took part. Known as the Munakata Princesses,
as they were the oiriganl tutelary deities for the Munakata Clan
who had responsibility for the sea lanes between northern Kyushuu
and the Korean peninsular, so Itsukushima shrines are also very
common in fishing villages. There is a secondary shrine here too,
one to Ebisu, one of the "7 lucky gods" of Japan. He is
depicted carrying a huge Sea Bream, so he is prayed to by fishermen
for a bountiful catch. As with many of the folk gods of Japan, there
are a multitude of different stories concerning the origins of Ebisu,
but almost all of them have him coming to Japan by boat from a foreign
country. Ebisu was another name for the Emishi, the people, or peoples,
who occupied northern Japan and were eventually replaced by the
"Japanese". Ebisu is deaf, and in November, when all the
millions of Kami all over Japan descend on Shimane for their annual
party/meeting, he does not hear the call, so doesnt come. |
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| I climb up the side of the hill
and come to a broad road with large Torii that leads to the Gokoku
shrine. Constructed to look ancient and exude authority, it is a
creation of the Meiji State and in my opinion has little to do with
religion or spirituality, and everything to do with politics, especially
nationalism. Its a local version of the infamous Yasukuni shrine.
From here a huge stone staircase lead up to the site of Hamada Castle.
From the top there are fine views over Hamada and up and down the
coast. In 1861 the Daimyo (Lord) stood here and watched as the shrine/temple
complex on Mount Taima (10k along the coast) burned. The forces
from western Japan that sought to overthrow the Shogunate were advancing
up the country. The Hamada Lord set fire to his own castle, and
it has never been rebuilt. I follow a very pleasant path that snakes
through the trees and down the hillside and at the bottom I see
the vermillion Torii of my next shrine, but first must go up the
river aways until I can cross by bridge. This is an Inari shrine,
and like most kami and gods in Japan there are multiple meanings
and interpretations. Primarily Imari is the god of rice and therefore
is very very popular. Inari is also the protective deity for geisha
and prostitutes and most "entertainment districts" will
have an Inari shrine. Instead of a pair of Lion Dogs guarding the
entrance to the shrine, Inari shrines have pairs of foxes as they
are the messengers of Inary, though there are many who believe the
foxes themselves are Inari. Its quite a large shrine on top of the
hill, and with a decent sized kagura-den. One of the small secondary
shrines within the grounds has had its base rocked in, and a circular
hole is left. This is literally a foxhole, where the spirit foxes
enter and leave. Leaving Inari I carry on west towards the small
island of Setogashima. Its no more than a few hundred metres in
length and breadth, and from the direction I am approaching from
it is only 20 metres from the mainland and reachable by a bridge.
However, the south of the island is connected to the harbor by a
HUGE suspension bridge that would not look out of place in San Francisco.
Its absurd,... the island has a small fishing village, and as I
said is easily accessible, so why build a huge new bridge? Profits
for the construction companies, with a dash of ostentatious display
of wealth. |
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| The village itself is small,
quiet, and picturesque, and is home to an Itsukushima shrine. Out
of one of the neighboring houses comes the sound of a drummer practising
kagura. Its now time to turn inland and start my way back to the
station. Overlooking Hamada harbor is a small bluff with an Otoshi
shrine on it. Otoshi was yet another son of Susano's, and his mother
was KAMUOOICHIHIME. She was the daughter of OYAMATSUMI, who was
an elder brother of Susano. The children of Otoshi and his siblings
have many connections with immigrant clans who came to Japan from
the mainland. There are many Otoshi shrines around Iwami, but this
one is run down. Not quite abandoned, but rarely visited. I now
walk through another old section of town, and but for the occasional
car and the ever=present power lines it could be a hundred years
ago. There seems to be a lot of small temples, and I pass by the
next shrine. Its a small new building set against a hillside that
has been clear-cut. As I get closer to the center of town it gets
busier and noisier and my legs get tired. Walking in cities is far
more tiring than the country. I find the shrine and am dismayed
to see it is, like many shrines, at the top of a huge flight of
steps, 153 in total, but its worth the climb. Its a hachiman shrine
and has a big kagura-den and also an Inari shrine in its grounds.
Off to one side is a big old tree with an aging shimenawa wrapped
around it. Its now just a 15 minute walk back to the station. |
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