The Legends That Made Japan - Part 3

Every culture has its own plethora of stories - strange and unique tales that were first told centuries ago to explain the world and all the creatures in it. Passed down by word of mouth, these stories were retold for generations - told by grandfathers around fireplaces to their young grandchildren, who then told their grandchildren. After centuries of passing stories on, it can be hard to tell who first told the story or why it was created in the first place. People can become disinterested in old tales because, when the original storyteller isn't around anymore and when the tale has been told dozens of times before, the tale is no longer interesting to new generations.

Because of this, old stories aren't taken terribly seriously; no matter how wonderful the stories are or how ancient the characters in it, younger generations often find it hard to relate to stories from hundreds of years ago. Stories sink into the past and are no longer relevant. But sometimes tales that have been lost to the past can resurface. When new history starts repeating old history, ancient tales suddenly hold new meaning. Suddenly, the old stories that grandfather told around the fire become true in real life and people have to refer back to the ancient stories to find out what is supposed to happen next. Our next Japanese legend is one such story.


Once upon a time in Japan, when the cherry blossoms were new and pink as a summer sunset, when the the wild ocean beat around Japan like a furious turquoise bird flapping its gorgeous wings, and when there were no great heroes to protect the land, there lived a man and his wife. This man and his wife had lived for many years, too many to count. They had watched the sun rise and set every morning and had seen centuries pass as slowly as the turtle. And now, in their old age, they too had become just as slow.

Day after day they went about the task of keeping their small home in order. The wife would bake the bread every morning and sweep the dust from the tatami mats; her husband would travel to the nearby village to trade and pass the time with old friends. The couple worked together to keep their home cozy and, hand in hand, they patched every leak and storm-torn hole that ever opened in their house. Every evening, the old couple would sit on their front step. Sometimes they brought work with them, like a tatami mat that needed mending or a pile of clothes that needed to be folded, but more often than not when they sat on the front step at night the old man and his wife would simply sit together and hold hands. They watched the endless sky move along its way and spied every silver falling star. For, no matter how many years they had lived, the love that had brought them together in the first place never left their hearts.

Theirs was a happy life and they would have been completely content if it weren't for their one great sadness. For years, the old man and his wife had wished for a child to call their own. In their youth, this had been their only hope - to birth a strong, heathy heir who could care for them in their old age. They had tried many times to bear a child; they offered sacrifices to the gods, praying that they wouldn't remain barren forever. The man and his wife had wished for nothing more, but it had not come to pass. Now in their old age they had no heir to care for them, no one to carry on their family name. Sometimes as the man and his wife sat on their font step to watch stars fly by, when they watched one season after another melt away, they spoke of their youthful wish. While it saddened them to remember their hope for a child, it was only a passing sadness that only came from time to time. So they let life continue; their happy world was at peace. 

One morning in early spring, the old woman was preparing to do the day's washing. Having searched the house for every last piece of laundry, she had carried basket after basket down to the river to soak and clean. One piece of clothing after another came out of her baskets, pulled out swiftly and cleanly so no other clothes would come with it. The fabric was quickly submerged in the chilly, bubbling stream and scrubbed so vigorously that any dirt was quick to leave the clothing. Out of the basket, into the stream, scrubbed to a shine, and placed on the warm river rocks to dry in the mid-morning sun. One shirt after another, pairs of pants, and socks had their turn in the washing cycle. The old woman worked this way for hours, diligently cleaning everything she had carried down to the river. 

She was so immersed in her work that she neglected to look up from it for whole minutes at a time; the world could have been falling in around her and she wouldn't have noticed. She had been washing for so many years, on the same river bank; she had watched the water bubble by for so many years, she was certain that nothing new or exciting was happening around her. So why should she bother to look up?

However, when she finally did take her mind off her washing and looked up from the stream, her eyes saw a most unusual sight. Bobbing back and forth in the roiling current, pink and rosy as the afternoon sun, as big as a bayberry bush, was a huge peach. The old woman couldn't believe her eyes; it must have been a trick of the light or her ancient eyes were finally failing. But it was not a trick or an illusion and with every moment the huge pink peach bobbed closer and closer to the old woman. Plucking it from the water with more than a little difficulty, the woman examined it closer. It was indeed a peach but what tree could have produced it? Placing it in her basket and forgetting the rest of her laundry, the old woman hurried home with her prize. 

Her husband was just as shocked and puzzled by the giant peach when he discovered it sitting in their living room as he came home that evening. His wife told how she had found it and together they puzzled over how such a large fruit could have come to be. For hours, the old man and his wife racked their brains for a suitable explanation but when no answer presented itself. So the couple resigned themselves to the mystery and decided to eat the peach instead. Fetching a knife from the cupboard, the old man placed the sharp tip on the very top of the fruit and gently cut into it. A fragrant aroma rose from the peach like the smell of freshly cut bamboo mixed with honey tea and lavender, a pink mist rose into the air, and a tiny pink stream of juice ran down the peach's side. What a treat this was going to be, the old man thought to himself as he plunged the knife deeper into the fruit.

Suddenly, though, from inside the peach a tiny voice cried out as high pitched as a bird in a note just as sweet as a song, "Please don't hurt me; put away your knife."

Shocked, the old man and his life jumped back clutching each other in fear. Never before had they encountered such a large peach and now it appeared to be alive, or possessed by a spirit or demon. 

For minutes on end, the couple did nothing beside watch the peach. For just a moment is was still, resting on the tatami mat in peace. Then with a start the peach began to jump. Up and down in its place, rocking back and forth when it came to earth, the pink mist above it intensified and from inside the little voice began to laugh. Not a sinister, demon laugh or that of a trickster spirit but, instead, the happy, jubilant giggles of a child. Then, just as the old man was leaning close to the peach to listen to the laughter, the giant fruit split open and busted apart.

The halves of the peach fell gently to the ground and, standing it its place, was a little baby boy. Pink as the peach with cheeks as rosy as sunrise, the chubby little boy giggled as the old man and his wife looked on in astonishment. Of all things to appear from a peach, this little peach boy was the last thing they expected. But, nonetheless, the peach boy had come to them, and the old woman believed that he had been sent to them to fulfill their wish for a child. At long last they would have a son to raise, a beautiful child who would make their days joyful, a precious boy who would grow into a strong man and take care of them in their old age. Yes, this little boy was meant to be their son. 

Picking the baby up and wrapping him in her nearby laundry, the old woman cradled him in her arms, gazing down at his tiny face. She kissed his forehead softly. "You will be a fine man one day, Peach Boy," she whispered. Then, looking up at her husband, she said, "But what sort of a name is Peach Boy for a fine child like this? We shall call him Momotaro!"

Nodding in agreement, the old man took a place beside his wife and joined her in watching their new son. "Momotaro, a fine name indeed," he said. 

                                                                    To Be Continued...


While I was writing this post, I realized just how long and detailed the story of the peach boy is. What is typed above is only about half the story. I could have kept writing and finished, but I don't want my readers to get bored sifting through endless paragraphs. So I will make this story a two-parter; enjoy the first half above and be looking for part two very soon. 


Photo Credit: Pinterest 
Sources Sighted: Overly Sarcastic Productions

A Traditional Japanese Kimono

The Kimono. A very elaborate, brightly colored dress that first appeared during the Heian period in Japan. It is known worldwide as the traditional clothing of the Japanese, it is seen in almost every kind of Japanese media, and, even though it is from another time period, it is still widely worn today. The Kimono is by far the best known staple of Japan and its culture and yet very few people know the background of this piece of clothing.

Before the late 1100s, when the first straight cut Kimono was created, Japanese men and women wore a simple outfit made of two layers: a baggy yet practical top and a simple pair of pants or a skirt. These articles of clothing had to be carefully tailored to fit the wearer exactly; because of this, seamstresses and tailors could spend days working on and carefully fitting even once piece of clothing. This would often back up a clothing maker's productivity. But the invention of the Kimono changed all that.

The straight line Kimono, as it came to be called, was completely different from the clothes that came before it. Basically a large, single-piece garment that could fit men or women, the Kimono did not need to be meticulously fitted and resized for the wearer. After its debut, the high demand for this new style of clothes was easily tackled by clothing makers because it was much simpler to sew and took up less time. It was so easy to fit anyone into a Kimono that people began keeping their old garments even after they outgrew them so that they could someday pass them on to their children. As centuries passed, Kimono makers began to get more creative with their designs, trying new color combinations, layering fabrics, and even creating specialty Kimonos for higher-ranking classes.

The Kimono remained the unchanging style of Japanese clothing until the Meiji period (1868 - 1912), when the Japanese government became obsessed with western culture and modernization. During this period, the Japanese people were ordered to wear western-style clothing instead of Japanese. A law was even passed to this effect. While the law has since been reversed, Kimonos are no longer worn for daily use. They are still wildly popular and show up in Japanese media and during weddings or summer festivals, but they are hardly practical for daily use anymore. That being said, the Japanese still love their one-piece outfits and use every opportunity to don them.


Photo Credit: Pinterest
Sources Cited: Kids Web Japan

A Letter To Japan

Dear Japan,

You don't know me yet; we've never seen each other but I hope that someday we can meet face to face. Despite that, I feel like I've known you for a very long time. To me you are a Shin'ainaru yujin (dear friend). I feel that we have a connection, something unseen and hardly felt but it is there just the same, and it is pulling us together. I never would have guessed that I would  end up loving Japan. When I was a little girl, I often day dreamed I would travel in my imagination to faraway places filled with wonder and adventure. Who knew that one day I would find the same wonder and adventure in Japan, a place so far away? It never entered my mind.

Japan, in some ways I know you better than I know myself. I see you in many different ways. I see you as an ancient place filled with a rich culture and heritage, a place that has walked through hard times and become even stronger because of them, a place filled with mystery just waiting to be explored. I also see you as a land filled with beautiful people, skillfully made by a loving creator. Each person is unique in his or her own special way and each one is very dear to my heart even though I've never met them. I can tell that each Japanese person has a wonderful purpose in life; each one was made for a reason. Japan is a place that was built on generations of people who worked hard for a better future. Millions of people over thousands of years. And yet God still loves every single one of those people; he guided their steps and knew exactly how their lives would impact the world.

It is my hope that someday I can stand face to face with one of these beautiful people and tell them just how much God loves them. I want to see joy and hope ignite in a Japanese heart as they hear that they don't have to fight for a happy life, that all they have to know is that a wonderful savior came down from heaven to save them. Dear Japan, you have no idea how much I long to bring you this good news. It breaks my heart to see all the sadness and fear in you simply because no one has reached out to you. If God will let me some day, I will see your misty coastline, I will set foot on the land that I've prayed for for so long, and perhaps, through me, God can add a few more hearts to his eternity.

I love you, Japan, and I hope to see you soon.

Rachel

The Legends that Made Japan Part 1

                                                       
We can't know where we're going without knowing where we've been. Similarly, we cannot study another culture without studying what shaped it in the first place. Cultures are built on myths and stories that explain how things came to be and why the culture functions like it does. Many myths give explanations about the belief systems of a culture and you can even find stories that give explanations about the land that a culture exists in. For instance, in the Philippines there is a myth that explains the creation of Mount Mayon, or, in Ancient Greece, there was a myth that told of the creation of the Greek gods. Myths shape a culture and can even carry over into the modern day with some fairly relevant context. To fully understand a culture, it is important to see where it came from and to study what was passed down as history for years.

All that being said, I think it would be very interesting to take a look at and unpack several myths from Japan. Some of them have carried over to modern time and, as a whole, they can give a clearer picture of the culture. So let's unpack these one at a time, and let's start with a simple yet interesting story.

The Legend of Princess Kaguya 

Once upon a time in ancient Japan, when the people were wise and Mount Fuji was white as fresh fallen snow, there lived a poor bamboo cutter and his wife. They lived at the edge of the forest and, even though they had lived long lives, they had no child to care for them in their old age. But, despite this, the bamboo cutter lived a happy life. Everyday the old man would take up his axe and walk deep into the forest to find the lushest bamboo stalks and his wife would clean their humble home to make it cozy.  

On one particular day, the bamboo cutter once again ventured into the woods for a day's work. With one swing of his axe, a bamboo stalk would come crashing to the ground. The old man worked quickly and was soon deeply focused on his task. After hours of work, the bamboo cutter chopped his axe into a seemingly normal stalk of bamboo, but it was far from it. After the majority of it fell to the ground, the leftover stump began to glow with a strange light, glorious and dazzling to behold. The stump split its sides and unfurled like a newly grown flower. The old man cautiously approached the open stump and looked inside only to see two shiny eyes peeping back at him.  

Startled but not altogether terrified, the old man looked closer. The sparkling eyes belonged to a little girl no bigger than the man's hand. She sat there looking at the old man with the most innocent face he had ever seen, and without a moment's hesitation the bamboo cutter held out his hand towards the little child. Picking up her voluminous kimono and flowing black hair, the little girl leaped from the bamboo stump into the man's hand where she landed as light as a feather.  

The old bamboo cutter took the little girl home and presented her to his wife, who became instantly infatuated with her. They decided to keep her as their own and raise her as a daughter; they were determined to give her the best life possible and they gave her the name Kaguya. From that day forward the bamboo cutter and his wife were far happier than they had ever been in the past; they finally had an adoring young daughter to care for and to love and someone to care for them in the years to come. In addition, they were no longer poor, for now every time that the bamboo cutter went into the forest and set about his work, a gold nugget fell from each bamboo stalk that he cut. Using their newfound wealth, the old man and his wife built a fine home for Kaguya and gave her all the splendor of a princess.  

The years rolled by, the bamboo grew tall, the birds sang of beauty and love, and Princess Kaguya grew into a fine young woman. She was the picture of flawless beauty,  with skin white as a moonbeam and hair black as the evening. Far and wide her beauty was renowned, and eager young men traveled from the ends of the earth to seek the fair princess' hand in marriage. But the princess had no interest in any of the young men that came to call; without even meeting the men she would send them away or send them on quests that they never returned from. One such suitor was the emperor of Japan himself; he too sought to woo the elusive young beauty but he was also turned way. But upon seeing how sad the young king was, Princess Kaguya pitied him and they became close friends.  

When her mother asked the princess why she continually turned away handsome rich suitors, Kaguya revealed her true origin.  

Princess Kaguya was the true princess of the moon, sent down to earth for unknown reasons. She was fated to live on earth until an appointed time, a time that was quickly approaching. With in the next full moon, Princess Kaguya would return to her home and rule there with no memory of her life on earth; this included her adoptive parents and her friendship with the emperor. 

Upon hearing this news, the poor emperor was grief-stricken and was determined to keep Kaguya safe from the "moon people" any way he could. He set guards around her home and vowed that she would remain on earth. 

But all his efforts were in vain, for when the "moon people" came down to fetch their princess, they temporarily blinded all the emperor's men and landed in the house without ever touching the ground. Princess Kaguya, though saddened by her imminent departure left a small gift for her friend the emperor, the elixir of youth in a bottle. She then drew around herself a cape of feathers that made her forget all her love for humans and their world and was then swept away back to the moon.  

The emperor could not be comforted and upon finding Kaguya's gift he ordered that it be burned on the top of the highest mountain since life without Kaguya was meaningless to him. The bottle of elixir was taken to the top of a snow-piqued mountain and burned, and from then on the mountain was called Fuji after the burning that happened upon it. 

That was a really long story. Not all of them with be that long. But I just think that it is so interesting how traces of this myth can still be seen today and that Japan's most recognizable landmark is tied to Princess Kaguya of the moon. This story is still popular in modern media; a movie based on the myth was recently made by Studio Ghibli, the same animation company that made Spirited Away.


Photo Credit: SlashFlim
Princess Kaguya Movie
Sources Cited: Overly Sarcastic Productions