Oshino Koi, originally uploaded by demosthenesofathens.

There is the word for something, and then the thing itself.

Koi ponds are a regular fixture of anime and manga, especially because of the koi-as-in-carp vs. koi-as-in-love pun that is used so often it’s attained the status of ‘cliche’. As a younger otaku, I considered this just a small part of my extensive knowledge of Japan, all of it of course attained second hand through comics, movies, cartoons, and video games, the casual expertise of the know-it-all.

Koi ponds outside of Japan, particularly in my country, have an artificial quality about them, like lagoons at a theme park. But the Japanese hold a particular aesthetic that isn’t common elsewhere, or easy to achieve — an exacting attention to detail applied to making the effect seem natural and effortless.

I stared at the crystal-clear waters of the pond in Oshino. This metaphor is apt — Oshino Village makes a healthy trade in selling crystals formed out of the mineral-rich waters of the melting snows of Mt. Fuji. (I bought Maoi a bangle of crystal beads, and something for myself.) The pond was filled with large, fat koi: some orange, some white with black and orange spots.

As I walked through the village streets, it hit me: I was in Japan.

Really, really in Japan.

At that moment, at an isolated pond far from where the other, more outgoing koi posed for pictures, this gray, ponderous koi the size of my arm swam past. It gave me a slow sideways glance.

It was probably thinking: “What a spaz.” Except, you know, in Japanese. And all… feudal.

Path to Hachimangu Shrine, originally uploaded by demosthenesofathens.

At the very end of the Wakamiya Oji, past the huge red torii, the wide path to the Hachimangu Shrine was flanked by stalls selling different foodstuffs, some recognizable (like beautiful candy apples) and some not so much.

The daytrippers who arrived on the train with us were now walking ahead of us, and they all seemed to know what to do. I settled for a freshly-made grape lollipop (made from the biggest, roundest grapes I had ever seen), and made my way to the hand-washing fountain where the crowds were pausing before heading to the main shrine.

Oshino Village, originally uploaded by demosthenesofathens.

The smell of food cooking filled the street as we made our way from the village parking lot to the center of Oshino village. I couldn’t understand any of the signs, and everything that was being sold seemed new and strange.

My fiancee stopped at this particular stall and bought a few green buns fresh off the hot plate. We bit into them happily — they were green tea mochi, piping hot, warming and filling our tummies at the same time.

Hachimangu Stairs 2, originally uploaded by demosthenesofathens.

The crowds of daytrippers at the Hachimangu Shrine moved on from the stage where the Shinto wedding was taking place to the various side shrines with monks blessing little charms for business, travel, health, marriage, and so on. Temple miko briskly walked around, helping with odd jobs like sweeping the courtyard floor and carrying pots and flowers.

The bulk of the crowd, myself included, began making its way up the main steps to the main shrine and Treasure House, housing armor and weaponry from the Yoritomo Shogunate.

It was a cold November morning.

Hachiko Statue, originally uploaded by demosthenesofathens.

It was getting late, and I was making my way from the Tokyu next to Shibuya Station to another, higher-end Tokyu where Maoi’s mom and brother were waiting.

As I made my way back to the Scramble Crossing, I noticed a lone train car in the middle of the square, with people going in and out of it. Next to it was this statue, which I recognized immediately.

Hachiko.

Someone left a bouquet of flowers at the statue. I paused in front of it for a moment, misty-eyed. Then I walked on.

Japan Railway Station, originally uploaded by demosthenesofathens.

We made our way around a maze of escalators, colored lines, shops, vending machines, and a bewildering array of train platforms. We plotted our stops the day before, and now, bleary-eyed but excited, we waited for the first train on our way to Kamakura.

I wondered what the cloverleaf symbol meant, or what a green car was for.

Hi there! Short post today, I thought I’d take the opportunity to direct my readers to a very informative and helpful article by a friend of Project Otaking and veteran of the otaku scene, Magnetic Rose! She covers topics like arranging transportation and accomodation, as well as managing money and personal safety! Please have a look!

Tips on Surviving and International Con Part 1

Tips on Surviving and International Con Part 2

Wakamiya Oji Torii, originally uploaded by demosthenesofathens.

The cherry trees lining the avenue were bare, fall having taken away their last leaves two weeks before. On each side were two parallel streets, open to traffic, each bristling with shop fronts and restaurants. People passed under the great Torii to walk the long gravel path to the Hachimangu shrine, some in casual clothes, others in kimonos.

I snapped this photo, then walked under the Torii, into sacred space. It was a clear autumn day.

Oshino Village, originally uploaded by demosthenesofathens.

I stood on the wooden bridge, watching the waterwheel turn in the crystal-clear water. On the other side of the bridge, people took sips of the water from their cupped hands. Other people tried keeping their hands in the water for 60 seconds to see if they could withstand the cold.

I wondered about the history of the waterwheel, how old it was, who took care of it, what it was used for.

For all I knew, it was probably a hydroelectric plant. Go Japan.

Great Buddha, originally uploaded by demosthenesofathens.

The sun was beginning to set as we arrived at the Daibutsu at Kamakura. We were in a rush because my mother-in-law wanted to catch mass that afternoon. Harassed and irritable, I hurried through the crowds of people, hoping to catch a glimpse of one more temple on the checklist so that the trip wouldn’t be wasted.

The sun illuminated the top of the Buddha’s head as I crossed the great temple gate.

Zen zap.