So enough about eating and drinking in Nara - what did Nana and I actually see?
Most tourists visit Nara as a day trip from nearby Kyoto, but we were so enthralled by Kyoto that we didn't make it out to Nara last fall. I'm a little sorry we didn't - Nara must have looked spectacular with the leaves turning. It was still a beautiful town when we visited, on a humid early summer day. I'd like to go back if we get to Kansai again: I feel like we barely scratched the surface on our morning walking tour.
Nara was the capital of Japan for most of the 8th century, an era referred to as (wait for it) the Nara Period, during which time Nara was actually known as Heijo-kyo, because nothing is simple in Japan. This period saw the first major wave of Chinese influence in Japan: kanji (Japanese writing in Chinese characters) and Japanese Buddhism were both imported from China during these years.
In fact, Heijo-kyo itself was modeled on Chang-an, the contemporary capital of the Tang Dynasty in China. (Chang-an is modern-day Xian, home of Qin Shi Huang's Terracotta Army, which Nana and I visited a couple years back.) Much of the old city plan has been replaced with Nara's modern streets, but the sprawling city park, Nara Koen, preserves most of the old temple district at the foot of the mountains to the east. The park itself encompasses all but one of the eight locations comprising the Historic Monuments of Ancient Nara UNESCO World Heritage Site.
To see Nara Koen, we took a free walking tour organized by Ryokan Matsumae, the little inn where we stayed the night. The volunteer guide was very friendly - eager to show off his hometown and to practice his English.
Our first stop was Kofuku-ji temple, on the western edge of the park. We approached from the south, for a view across the pond to Kofuku-ji's famous five-story pagoda.
The smaller three-storied pagoda on the western edge of the temple.
Kofuku-ji's famous eight-sided hall.
Kofuku-ji's five-story pagoda, one of the tallest in Japan.
Pagodas are built to hold sacred Buddhist relics; they're descendants of the stupa used in India & Southeast Asia. This one is said to hold a pinch of Buddha's ashes.
After Kofuku-ji, we stopped briefly at a viewing platform atop the municipal building at the edge of the park.
Looking west, towards central Nara.
Looking east, with Todai-ji on the left.
The Nara city mascot is a holy Shinto priest with deer antlers.
Suddenly, deer.
Nara Koen, you see, is full of deer, who in Japan are traditionally seen as messengers of the gods. Tourists can make offerings to the deer in the form of little rice crackers sold by vendors throughout the park. The deer have absolutely no fear of humans, and can be really pushy if you have food, or anything that vaguely looks or smells like food.
Naturally, this being Japan, the warning signs are pathetically cute.
Our next stop was the crown jewel of Nara Koen: Todai-ji, whose Daibutsu hall is generally regarded as the largest wooden building in the world. (Some argue that a few modern wooden buildings don't count, as they use a lot of metal joints and such.)
It's really big - and the original was even bigger!
"Daibutsu" means "big Buddha," and the Daibutsu hall is, in fact, home to a giant bronze Buddha.
Peace, dude.
Oh, wait, that was actually the little big Buddha, next to the big Buddha.
There we go. The dimensions are tough to grasp here. Each finger is a bit bigger than a full-grown man.
The Todai-ji complex is packed with national treasures, any one of which would make a lesser temple famous in its own right.
Like this Chinese-style bronze lantern from the Nara Period.
Or any of the several spectacular temple guardians.
For each of these, the shinbone is about the size of a typical adult.
I was particularly charmed by this worn wooden statue of a revered Todai-ji monk.
Situated just outside the entrance to the main hall, the statue is purported to have healing powers: touch the spot on the monk where it hurts, then touch the same spot on yourself while saying a prayer. Not surprisingly, the monk has very worn knees.
And a wonderfully expressive face.
But for children and the young at heart, the highlight of Todai-ji is probably the Buddha's Nostril Pillar.
The hole through the pillar is the same dimensions as the big Buddha's nostril. Supposedly, each trip through the nostril makes you wiser. Nana decided she needed some wisdom; I was obviously wise enough.
(Note: E-mail readers should click through to the blog for the video.)
Very gracefully done.
After Todai-ji, we walked up the hill to the much quieter Nigatsu-do (literally, "February pavilion"), an outlying structure of the larger Todai-ji complex.
Nigatsu-do is home to Nara's Shuni-e festival, a fire festival held in the second month of the year. During the festival, Buddhist monks circle the temple with a huge torch, then light the hillside behind the complex on fire.
Big torches.
An even bigger torch.
Being touched by the sparks or ashes from the torch is supposed to bring good fortune.
Stone tablets commemorating those who have donated to the temple.
A totally awesome chicken. Just because.
\In the off-season, Nigatsu-do is primarily known for its pleasant hillside location and its fine views over the rest of the park and the town.
We finished our morning's tour with a slow stroll through the wooded areas of the park.
Threatened to rain all day, but never really did.
Oh, yeah - the Nara Museum, apparently imported directly from Dresden.
I have a kind of chicken and egg question. We have this giant wooden building and we have this giant bronze Buddha. Do you know which came first? Was the building built around the statue or was the statue somehow placed into the building?
Kurt's Dad - I'm not actually sure, but logic suggests that the statue had to come first. There aren't any doors in the building large enough to have brought the stature in, and it's so heavy I can't see a practical method for moving it.
Jackie - The deer do bite and stuff, but even to my Midwestern eyes they eventually grew too adorable not to pet. The horns are unexpectedly fuzzy, as if they're covered by a bristly velvet.
I'm just sitting here thinking how I don't like to work at great heights and then I'd have to worry about dropping one of my tools on good old Buddha's head as well. What got me to thinking about the chicken and egg thing was that the statue couldn't have been cast in one piece. They might have built the building first, cast the various sections of the statue and then assembled it inside. Obviously, I'm over-thinking this a lot.
I have a kind of chicken and egg question. We have this giant wooden building and we have this giant bronze Buddha. Do you know which came first? Was the building built around the statue or was the statue somehow placed into the building?
ReplyDeleteI thought Nana seemed wiser than usual!!! So that's the reason.
ReplyDeleteI'd be scared of the deer! You take some great pictures.
After all that culture it must have been the ultimate anti-culture shock to arrive back in Columbus (once you got over the "surprise" element)
Jackie
Kurt's Dad - I'm not actually sure, but logic suggests that the statue had to come first. There aren't any doors in the building large enough to have brought the stature in, and it's so heavy I can't see a practical method for moving it.
ReplyDeleteJackie - The deer do bite and stuff, but even to my Midwestern eyes they eventually grew too adorable not to pet. The horns are unexpectedly fuzzy, as if they're covered by a bristly velvet.
I'm just sitting here thinking how I don't like to work at great heights and then I'd have to worry about dropping one of my tools on good old Buddha's head as well. What got me to thinking about the chicken and egg thing was that the statue couldn't have been cast in one piece. They might have built the building first, cast the various sections of the statue and then assembled it inside. Obviously, I'm over-thinking this a lot.
ReplyDelete