October 26, 2009, Monday: Hello 88 Temples of Shikoku!

In the three hour bus ride to Tokushima, Shikoku from Kyoto (from my journal that I wrote it as I travelled):


10/26/09-12:02pm

The bus makes a stop for a 5 minute rest. There is nothing but ocean to the right. As the typhoon completes its course, the sky is a peach color—almost as if it is sun rise. The ocean reflects this welcoming sky with a misty pink. The slopes of the surrounding mountains are intricate yet beautiful and as the remaining mist floats above the mountain peaks I feel at peace.


10/26/09-roughly 1:00pm

Walked from Temple 1-3. It took about 2 hours in all. I took a train from the big city of Tokushima to the bandou train station and Temple 1 was very close by. I bought my gear and it all felt like a rush. The experience was a blur, beauty I took for granted because I was eager to get to Temple 4 or 5. I forgot temples close at 5:00pm and they prefer if no one came after 4:30pm. Yep, that’s the country all right for you. Next time I won’t let that stop me from going from temple to temple. I don’t need the stamp/signature of the priest to prove my worth (“trophy”) of the temple, I am here for the experience.

Walking through 1-3 was all highway and thru quiet neighborhoods that were populated with old fashioned houses that at most had a second floor. There were such few people and it was so quiet that I thought I was walking through a ghost town. I have decided to enjoy my trip rather than rush from temple to temple trying to get the “trophy.” I need to soak in the atmosphere and what good would rushing do if I am unable to accomplish just that?

As I packed up my henro wear (the outfit worn during the pilgrimage) in my backpack, tomorrow I will be a plain tourist.

October 24-25, 2009: The Bridge to Heaven

My Fall Break started by going to one of Japan’s ‘three great views,’ Amanohashidate, translated as the Bridge to Heaven. My host father drove for about 2.5 hours north of Kyoto city, felt like 4 or 5 because we took so many breaks in between to get lunch/etc. We stayed at a really nice hotel by the beach (and I was the guest of honor!) and I have wanted to swim for the longest, so we all brought our bathing suits and got in the pool for about 30 minutes. It was a shallow pool, but felt nice to get some exercise. Then we had dinner together, and drank some alcohol/beer. In the morning, they woke me up early to see the sun rise out of the ocean. It was beautiful. I only wished it was warmer so I could have swum in the ocean!

The ‘bridge’ of Amanohashidate is actually a long, narrow strip of sand covered with thousands of pines trees (8000 pine trees with hundred of different species) and surrounded on both sides with water. It is 3.5 km in length and at both ends is a ropeway with a beautiful view from above (one side much more heavily populated with tourists than the other). There was a cable car, but also a chairlift. I have never been on a chairlift and was a little anxious at first, but going down is definitely scarier than coming up. Although I was quite fearless, not holding on, squirming in my seat and waving like a 5 year old to my host mother and father, who were a seat in front and a seat behind me, my host father told me I should hold on tight. When we got to the top, the view was beautiful. I never could have imagined that nature could create something like it. I kept asking questions to my host family in Japanese like, “did that happen naturally?” or “did someone plant all those trees there or did it just happen?” and was surprised to hear that it’s a natural phenomenon. And here my appreciation for natural has developed even more so.

Ever since I’ve come to Japan, I have slowly developed an appreciation for nature that I’ve never had. I was such a litterbug in America, not caring about throwing garbage on the streets because I knew it was someone’s job to do it anyway, and no one really seemed to care (minus some of my OCD tree-hugging friends). In Japan, I never throw garbage on the streets, recycle, and because there rarely is a garbage can on the streets, I bring my garbage home with me. Who knew I would grow up into such a responsible adult! At home in Kyoto, I even separate my garbage. My host family doesn’t even dump the oil used to fry foods down the drain, and instead goes out of their way to spend money at the supermarket buying this white powder that makes oil into a solid substance, thereby creating it into a disposable substance that will not harm the environment. I have never heard of this before, do people even do this in America? Does this substance even exist in America?

Anyway, I kind of took a detour, but back onto my weekend. Anyway, seeing Amanohashidate from the top is breath-taking. But, there is this weird custom. Everyone bends over and views the bridge through their legs and it’s supposed to make Amanohashidate look like it’s ‘floating.’ Well, I had to try this, and I tried a couple of times and didn’t understand the whole floating idea. So I gave up and took a picture of my host mom performing this feat. We also all rented bicycles and roamed the bridge of Amanohashidate. It was a nice bicycle ride through the enormous pine trees. At the end of Amanohashidate is a huge temple and tons of little shops. We also went to a famous temple on top of a mountain nearby and the bus ride up was so rocky and curvy that I was literally smashed from one side of the bus to the other as we went up.

Earlier that day we took a boat tour to Ine, a village in between the mountains that makes their living by fishing. Each house is connected to the sea with a garage for their boats and it has been like this for hundreds of years (maybe centuries). I was surprised that people can live and flourish in such a seemingly desolate place.

My host family and I also fished together, and it was so easy to catch so many little fish. They were about 2-3 inches in length and we caught about 65. That night we fried the fish and ate them all. It was so fresh and tasty. I never ate fish that I have caught myself and felt quite proud of myself. I wanted to do it the next day, but we didn’t have time.

October 17, 2009, Kyoto Exclusivity: Tea Ceremony then the Moss Temple

Tea Ceremony at Urasenke:

Urasenke is the most famous of the 3 famous tea ceremony schools in Kyoto. No one can just walk in, you have to be cordially invited, or have some type of connection and make an appointment.

KCJS set it up so all the students can go for free and it was a wonderful opportunity. Sitting in a room full of women, most of which were Japanese, we were given a lesson in tea ceremony. The women spoke English and described the beauty of the tea ceremony materials. For instance, the cup/bowl that the guest of honor drank out of was a piece from the medieval period, specifically the Momoyama period, 1333-1568. It was a beautiful piece, especially because of the asymmetry of its shape and color. The table/stand that held the water that would be heated to make the tea was a stand of 3 levels. The top level was a circle, the middle, a triangle, and the bottom, a square, which represented 3 out of the 5 natural elements. The whisk that was used to stir the tea powder was made of bamboo. And the tea powder was used by crushing the whole tea leaf (this is normal). High class, expensive tea is made by crushing the leaf buds, the leaves that have just sprouted.

And so, as I sat with my legs underneath me, my ankles were buckling under the pressure of my butt. I thought my ankles were going to crack. I don’t know how my male classmate was able to sit that way. I had to readjust myself every so often. But it was nice to be able to enjoy the beauty of the cups and the delicate procedure of the tea ceremony.


The Moss Temple: 西芳寺（さいほうじ）:

So there is this really exclusive temple in Kyoto that you have to make a reservation at least a week in advance to pay $30 (3000 Yen) to get in. Sounds ridiculous, right?

So I didn’t really know what I was in for, but was excited to go. The Moss Temple is a Zen temple, of the Rinzai school sect. We got there a bit late because if you reserve with 6 people you have to wait for everyone in the party to arrive before you are allowed to enter. We each did our meditation, which consisted of writing kanji characters that filled a long page. The meaning behind the kanji was equivalent to a prayer (般若心経 = はんにゃしんぎょう= hannyashingyo). After you completed this, then you were allowed to write your name, address, and, if you had enough strength left, your wish. It took each of us about an hour or so, I think. I lost track of the time. It was strange, but as I was writing, all I could think of was happiness. There were instances where I couldn’t think of anything, even if I tried. I felt at peace. But, other times, I felt stressed because it felt like I was taking a test and running out of time, and as people were trickling out of the room I wondered what instructions were given in the beginning that I might’ve missed because our party was 20 minutes late.
After the meditation was complete, we were allowed to wander around the moss garden. There was over 120 different species of moss in the temple garden. It was beautiful. I have never thought of moss as beautiful in my life (never really thought of moss at all, actually), but here I was able to admire the fuzzy, little, green bits of life from every angle as I was surrounded by a soft, lush paradise.

People tell me that the temple charges this much because the moss is so hard to keep. Too much water and it will die, too little and it will dry from the sun and turn an awful brown. I don’t think I was supposed to touch the moss, but I couldn’t help myself. The most looked so soft and well kept, I bent down and caressed the luscious plant with admiration.

October 6, 2009: Looking for Happiness in a Far Away Place

Arashiyama
Arashiyama, temple and garden nearby.

I have been reflecting on these past few months.

During the Summer when I was in Hakodate, Hokkaido, I think I threw away some of my preexisting emotions for happiness. At the time I didn’t think about the ones I threw away. But for the sake of happiness, I threw away my negative emotions, and focused solely on the positive. I told myself it would be the only way I would be able to survive in a foreign world. Maybe it was a defensive mechanism. Truth is, every one has a bit of positive and negative energy/emotion. The ones who always seem happy are just good at hiding the bad. In NYC I lived in a darker world, one which that I called reality. To me reality was a pessimistic, cold world.

I came to Japan and developed a bright, new perspective on life itself. I challenged everything, especially myself, to experience what is novel to its upmost potential. I wanted to make the most out of my travels. What seemed normal to most Japanese people, and maybe just people in general, I accepted with enthusiasm and glee. Meeting people and living in a different language was a thrilling experience all on its own. The technique/skill of speaking itself felt novel and fresh. I felt like I was reborn with a new tongue.

I farmed for 2.5 weeks, and then travelled on my own for about a week. In that time span I probably grew the most. I gained a sense of independence, a sense of respect, a sense of thankfulness/appreciation. Looking back, even though I was alone for most of that time, and planned my trip day by day, I was the happiest then. I learned to be happy alone; to depend on no one but myself; to stand my ground, but also to let people in; to be intimidating, but inviting. I don’t know how that happened.

I don’t like depending on people. I have always been like this. But I somehow become vulnerable sometimes because of my human social nature. I know how to be alone now and sometimes it’s hard to be with others. But sometimes I feel the need to have friends. I started school and didn’t feel the need to be clingy and make friends. I watched everyone else hastily scramble to find their click and thought it was pathetic, but it somehow it worked for most people: kudos to them. The loners seem very mysterious, and the overly talkative ones seem a little too overbearing. It’s hard to find an in-between kind of person. But somehow, after a month, I sometimes feel lonely and wish I could have made a connection with certain people. Other times, I don’t care. Even so I feel like I don’t quite belong. It’s hard because I get to choose from only a limited group of people. Eh, I like being the odd-ball out.

Anyway, I grew this sense of appreciation and have finally realized how my grandparents, especially grandmother, worked so hard in every way possible to raise me and my sister. I finally understand her love. A lot of people, especially my host family in Kyoto, have told me what a fine job my grandma did in raising me. That makes me feel like less of a failure in life. And I’m sure will give my grandma some pride. This is why I decided, for the sake of my grandma, to travel to different temples around Japan to collect their seals (I am not sure what one would call it but the gist of it is that a priest from the specific temple will write the temple’s name and etc in beautiful calligraphy for a small fee). Now when I first bought the book to collect these seals, I thought it would be nice because even thought I couldn’t read it, my grandma could, and she might like it, and also she will know where I have gone, and maybe it will bring back happy memories of Japan. But, my host family in Kyoto told me that the book has more significance than that. People travel around Japan to collect the different signatures from each temple and when they die they bury it together with their body, in their tomb and the signatures act as holy prayers that send their body to heaven. My host family told me I am doing a great thing for my grandma, and she will be able to go to heaven as a result. Pretty funky ideology is what I thought. I pay each temple about 400-800 yen ($4-$8, but some places more) to get in (admission) to pay another 300 yen ($3) for the priests signature. At some places you don’t have to pay an admission fee. Going to heaven: priceless?! I basically will have paid about $200 for my grandma to get into heaven. Not including the transportation to get to the temples. That’s totally worth it right?

On another note, it’s nice to know that in a different country, in a different language, people can understand me, they can understand who I am. It’s hard to explain, but strangely enough, in my host family’s embrace, I feel accepted and actually loved. They call me their daughter, and joke around and call me their princess. My host mom occasionally gives me back massages and they pay extra close attention to my eating habits, the foods I favor, and my sometimes-subtle attitude (which I guess is not so subtle after all, especially for Japanese people).

I’m in Kyoto now, going to school everyday, and something is definitely lacking. Maybe it’s because I am stripped of my daily adventure, but I can’t wait until fall break at the end of this month when I can spend some quality time alone temple-hopping. I’m kind of glad that everyone else in my program will be going to Tokyo. Because I am going to Shikoku (an island South of Kyoto)! When will I get the chance to go to Shikoku in the future? And why go to the generic places? People did invite me to join them in going to Tokyo, but why would a big city girl like me go to Tokyo, one of the biggest cities in the world? My relatives brought me to Harajuku (in Tokyo) in the summer and I didn’t find it too impressive. All they have it stores galore.

To get back on the subject of happiness: I think the negative emotions that I threw away in the summer have finally caught up with me. I can’t suppress them. I thought I was just a happier person here, but everyone has some negative emotions. No one person is truly just filled with happiness. Maybe it’s because I’m homesick. I finally feel the distance from my friends and family. I feel depressed. I have to admit, I never really felt homesick in the summer, even when I was alone. But at long last, I feel the pain of homesickness. And it makes me physically and mentally sick. I feel debilitated. I’m stressed and it’s the cause of my stomach hurting so much I can hardly walk. I went on a mandatory school trip to Okayama (a few towns away from Kyoto) and felt homesick for Kyoto, but now I feel homesick for NYC. I can’t say exactly what I am homesick for, but I feel this negative ball of energy consume my inner joy, and feel nothing but exhaustion. I have been exhausted for about 2 weeks, and can’t seem to shake it off. No, I do not have the influenza virus, I know that much, but I don’t feel like myself. I just want to cry and sleep. Has the weariness of travels finally caught up to me? Or am I just getting old?

There are dark corners even in Kyoto. No matter where I go there are dark corners.

I don’t necessarily want to go back to the US, or maybe I do, but rather I’d be happier if the US came to Kyoto, Japan. Maybe it’s just that happiness comes from Hokkaido and Kyushu. Maybe that’s where happiness lies--in the countryside. Maybe happiness is in the good air of the countryside. Ah-ha! I got it: Maybe pollution is a depressant!

Now I sound crazy, don’t I? Or maybe just Einstein?

I never thought a long distance relationship would be so difficult. But, I miss my boyfriend so much. During the Summer I was so busy having fun and exploring to notice the suppression of my feelings for him. But now they can no longer be kept inside and I feel them boiling within. What I would give to hold his hand for just a moment. Not seeing him is killing me. I don’t even have a recent picture. He was my source of comfort when the world had me down. I actually feel lonelier in Kyoto surrounded by people now then when I was out in the world travelling alone in the summer. Maybe I am just having a bad day.

I think novelty was what distracted me from the sadness, and the loneliness. I left NYC for many reasons, but one of them was because I didn’t feel happy in NYC. I wanted to find happiness in a different place, and I thought I could find it a far away place, like Japan. I learned something valuable: Happiness is not where you are: you can’t drink happiness from a shrine’s magical water spring, or find it in an onsen. Happiness is not in a new city, new country, or new way of life. Happiness comes from the inside and maybe I can be happy wherever I am if I think of it in this way. Or maybe I’m too young to be truly happy.

October 5, 2009：The Meat of Kyoto Part 1

We made it top the top of Daimonji
Ginkakuji sand dome

The beautiful view of Kyoto from the top of Daimonji

Ginkakuji

So I’ve been here for about a month and have yet to reveal the meat of my stay in Kyoto. I told you about my host family, a bit about what classes I’m taking, but nothing about the daring expeditions or the life threatening something or the other. To be honest, I’ve been a little preoccupied with falling behind in schoolwork to visit a lot of the local temples and playing in Osaka. And it doesn’t help that I don’t really have internet at my host family’s house, but I have been saying it’s a good thing. You don’t realize how much time you waste dawdling on the internet.

Nonetheless, let me start with week one. After orientation, meeting my host family for the first time, the first few days of classes, I got right to exploring this town. I’m sure I forgot a lot of the details, and will neglect the reflection that came with visiting these sites, but I don’t want to bore you with some of the elaborate cultural mesh of Kyoto anyway.

The first weekend with my host family, my host mom took me to 3 temples that were about a 10 minute bicycle ride from our house: Kinkakuji, Ryoanji, and Ninnaoji.

Golden Pavillion:
Kinkakuji, or the Golden Pavillion, is really made of gold. Architecturally speaking it’s quite a work of art: The bottom layer, in Heian style, has screen doors. The middle layer has Southern Chinese aspects, and the top layer has more slopes, which is expressive of the Kudara style (I spelled out the pronunciation of what the teacher said in Japanese Civ class). Originally built in the late 13th century Japan during the Kitayama epoch as a “monastic retreat” for the then military leader, Yoshimitsu. It was built to glorify Yoshimitsu’s power. But it was burned in 1950 and rebuilt. And because it has been built fairly recently, it has no sense of wear and tear.

Ryoanji:
Ryoanji is known for its infamous rock garden. About 15 rocks create a landscape that portrays the Japanese medieval aesthetic taste that emphasizes the beauty of the withered, lonely, cold, and desolate. During Japanese medieval times, there was an emphasis on the simple, and imperfect. Even nowadays it is common to see an asymmetrical rock accompanied by a small plant on the sides of people’s houses on the streets of Kyoto. Inside the temple, you can see dragons drawn on the screen doors.

Ninnaoji:
At the entrance to Ninnaoji you are greeted by demonic-looking deities. Once you pay the admission fee, you get to see some golden screen doors drawn with trees and mountains. There is also a peaceful garden with a small man-made waterfall, a small pond, and neatly lined white pebbles. You can also see a pagoda in the background. Lots of people sit in front of this picturesque scene and they can be seen sketching, writing, talking, or in deep thought. I really liked the pagoda and got up close to take a picture. Although, you are never allowed to enter the pagoda, rather it holds the remains of a highly respected, distinguished soul.

Mt. Daimonji:
A few days later I climbed Daimonji mountain. On Daimonji a big 大 (dai, which means big) is visible from miles away. It’s one of my favorite sites, and my favorite place to see it is by the big river that runs through Kyoto. Every time I pass this river, I am calmed, no matter how stressed I felt previously. From the top of this mountain, a beautiful view of Kyoto city can be seen. During the month of August, the big大 is set ablaze for the Obon festival to honor/ pay respect to relatives that have passed away. I wish I was in Kyoto for that!

Silver Pavillion:
The next weekend I went to Ginkakuji, the Silver Pavillion with some peeps from the program. Architecturally speaking, the bottom is built as a more residential style and the top is zen style. It was built by Yoshimitsu’s grandson, Yoshimasa after the Onin wars (which left Kyoto in ruins). It was built during the Higashiyama epoch, and built for Yoshimasa as a retreat to escape the horrors of the weakening government. I enjoyed the cone shaped sand mound, which I am not sure of its significance. When I went to the Silver Pavillion it was under construction and it looked much worn (that made me a little happy because everything seems to be rebuilt so recently). The garden surrounding the temple was very soothing and there was a lot of moss and lichen. (I never really paid attention to moss, much less recognized a beauty within this humble plant). Although some of the moss was dried, some of it was a nice shade of green, lush and soft, and actually added to the soothing tone of the place, even though it was quite crowded with tourists. I actually bent down to touch the moss and was amazed at how soft it felt and wondered how nice it would be to lay down on top of it and take a nap. As I watched two big dragonflies chase each other, I felt at peace here.

September 18, 2009: My Kyoto Host Family

Went to a Japanese pub (Izakaya) with my host parents day one.
I want them both!

My host mom and me.

Let me introduce you to my host family before I continue on my adventures. I love coming home because I love to interact with my host family, and just listen to them talk. They use Kyoto-ben (the Japanese dialect for this city) all the time, which I find entertaining and definitely cool. I can understand it, and have been trying to be able to use it myself. It’s hard because once you’re used to a certain way of talking, it’s hard to use a totally new word instead or end a word slightly differently that you are used to.

My host mother is 66 years old, but she acts like a 30 year old. She is so active and healthy. To show me around we each rode on a bicycle (even up small, but steady inclines) around the city. She goes to the gym regularly, works part time, and pursues her hobby (making these works of art with just paper; I’ll post pictures sooner if not later) through classes and regularly at home at her own time. On top of that she cooks and cleans (does all my laundry and folds my clothes! I feel like a child!) and pays very close attention to the way I eat my food so she can adjust when preparing for my next meal.

My host father is 67 years old and works full time at a business company. He is always reading the economy newspaper. On the days when my host mother works part time, she comes home late, and he makes dinner instead of her. He’s always encouraging and happy. 7 years ago he almost died (some kind of illness having to do with his heart almost failing) and they didn’t have a host student for 7 years, but before that, they hosted 12 students, so I am number 13. They have kids, but they are grown and married with kids of their own.

My host mom and dad always bicker, but playfully, with laughter and expressive intonation. I love it! Generally my host father says that someone should make sure something or the other is cleaned or properly wrapped, and my host mother whines and says she is only one person, and orders him to do it. Then he sighs and says she’s right, and gets up right away and complies.

Yesterday I was doing my homework in the living room, creating sentences with new grammar that we learned in class, and asking them if it sounded correct. Sometimes I was a little stuck and they helped me out, and I tried to make a sentence that was something to the effect of: It’s is psychologically difficult to understand a 10 year old girl who wants to wear makeup. My host father thought my sentence was okay, but suggested instead of 10 year old girl, that I could write boy. My host mother, from the kitchen, yelled at him, asking him why he would teach me such things and that my sentence was fine. And told him he was gay. Later that night they somehow brought it up again, and my host mom said my host father says those types of things because in actuality he is more than a mom than a dad. I laughed hard. I feel like I am living in a comedy. I feel very comfortable here. Their hospitality alone makes me want to stay another semester, although I know I shouldn’t.

The first night I met them (Saturday), they took me to an Izakaya (Japanese Bar restaurant, where young people go) in a very young/active part of the city. They ordered so much food. They didn’t even ask and ordered 3 big glasses of beer. I don’t fancy beer, but it would be rude to refuse, right? So I drank it. Slowly. My host mom loves beer, drank the whole mug, and ordered a second smaller one for herself. She definitely has a high tolerance. I was impressed she didn’t even turn red. I, on the other hand, even though I am just half Japanese, was glowing, radiating heat, and was a nice shade of rose. My host father, unlike my host mother, doesn’t have the best tolerance for alcohol and was also a bit red in the face. I can’t believe they got me slightly drunk the first night they met me. Why? I’ll ask them tomorrow. Then afterwards we passed by this ice cream place that served huge $150 ice cream dishes and more. I was impressed by the towers of ice cream, glued to the display glass, and so we sporadically walked in and my host mother and I each had a tower of ice cream. My host father, because he is at risk for diabetes, had a small Japanese dessert.

To call them awesome is truly an understatement.

September 14, 2009: Kobe

Kobe at night.

Kobe pier.

Waiting for the train.

A few blocks away from Himeji castle.

View from one of the windows of Himeji castle.

Me with Himeji castle in the background.

The map of the grounds of Himeji castle.

A model of what they did to pass their time in Himeji castle.

A samurai inside the castle. He was with his girlfriend. Everyone was respectful and didn`t take pictures, but I couldn`t help myself.

Let me start a few weeks ago, before I started orientation/school in Japan.

Andre, from the Bronx, who went to the same High School as I went to (Dewitt Clinton), and was in the same AP English class a few years before me, had apparently been living in Kobe. I met him once in NYC, but didn’t remember him until I spoke to him on the phone and he reminded me of that time. Ms. Polan, my AP English teacher from High School, apparently sent Andre an email, and put in a good word for me. Maybe it’s because Andre didn’t really want to bother with meeting up with me, or wasn’t too interested but I’m glad Ms. Polan did that.

So I met up with Andre, who lives in Sannomiya, Kobe. He was very kind, agreeing to host me and provide a place to stay. He swore me to secrecy, so I am not allowed to reveal the décor of his apartment. We walked around Kobe during the day and night, walking into Kobe’s Chinatown as well. We went to Himeji castle next day. I think once you go to one castle in Japan, you might think they are all the same. The outside looks relatively similar. When you take the narrow and steep stair climb to the uppermost floors, you get a spectacular view of the city. But the inside has its small and big differences. Sometimes it’s almost like a museum, with pieces of history that represent the lifestyle of the samurai that lived in the castle rooms. Of course there are just a lot of empty rooms. As you humbly walk through and feel the grandeur of the respectable wooden rooms, you might stop and wonder how the samurai lived long ago. Or at least that’s what I did. What did they do in those rooms?

Behind the master’s headquarters, there was a place designated just for suicide. I guess when the war came to a close and the master realized he would be defeated and captured, to defend his honor he would kill myself. For a samurai, it was about honor. It was more honorable to kill yourself than to fall into the hands of the enemy.

The castles in Japan all seem very old (some older than others, I’m sure), but don’t be fooled, the truth is most of them had been rebuilt. Some of it was rebuilt very recently. Most of it was rebuilt a little farther back in history. They were rebuilt mostly because of the fires that were caused by local warfare. Himeji castle is the biggest castle in Japan.

I really want to see the castle in Kyoto (Nijo) and if I have time, the castle in Okasa (Osaka-jo). At KCJS (Kyoto Consortium for Japanese Studies) I am taking Japanese Civilization and Japanese Theater. I was reading the book for Japanese Civ class and it said that back then castles were usually built atop a hill as a defensive strategy. The master and his family didn’t live in the castle, but lived at the base of the hill, and used the castle when they were attacked.