Japan: Asakusa Temple & Yasukuni Shrine Sites -- Sienna Gallus in Japan!

 

Upon entering the Asakusa Temple site, there was a long strip of faux-authentic or tourist-oriented souvenir markets and shops that the group had to walk through before getting to the main temple and garden area. It was commonplace to see kimono rentals available here and as well as cheap religious and cultural trinkets. This commercial area was swarming with visitors despite the questionable quality of what was being sold. The Japanese college students that accompanied our class that day made a point of expressing to us that they would personally not buy a single thing from this area. This was a concrete example of how Japan recognizes its country's identity is very intertwined with spirituality and how they’re aware that they can monetize this identity for tourists. When we reached the exterior of the main temple that was open to the public, there were amulets, charms and fortunes for sale with a presumably more “authentic” origin. However, it was interesting to see that Western influence crept into even these places of purchasing spiritual tokens considering the gendered “good luck in relationships” amulets that were sold there had two different, gendered packages (blue for boys and pink for girls –although I’m not sure if they were supposed to represent the gender of the person possessing the amulet or the gender of the person they hoped to attract). Nevertheless, it was valuable to witness active practical uses for religion and how tourists –possibly even unknowingly– are engaging in it relating to the fortunes that were sold there. My dear friend Nick got three bad fortunes in a row and tied them to strings in a designated area to be left at the site. It's said that those bad occurrences would not happen to him because he left them at a sacred area rather than carrying them into his life. For those who got good fortunes, Yusei told us to put them in our wallet so they remained with us. There was also an area where old amulets could be returned to the site so that a new amulet can be purchased to provide refreshed energy and luck to an intended purpose. Despite many people possibly being drawn to Buddhism concerning its iteration of enlightenment outside of mortal life, the portion of spirituality that focuses on a good wellbeing in this life was displayed through this practice of purchasing fortunes and amulets. Similar to the fortune experience, the various statues of deities in the garden area were another mode of how tourists could directly interact with the practical uses of religion as the site allowed people to pray or wish for various things according to a certain statue’s virtues. The way Buddhism was portrayed to me as I grew up was much less interactive than this site. I used to internalize practicing Buddhism as upholding Buddhist principles in actions and mindset, but practices –like meditation– were very inward, non-physical things. This first site made me wonder about how long paying for something like saying a prayer within the temples has been in existence for. Was Buddhism always so interactive as far as receiving fortunes or obtaining other physical tokens of good luck? Throughout these two sites –as well as sites visited in the future, like the Nikko heritage shrine– there was an interesting overlap between Japanese and Chinese culture as well as Buddhist and Shinto elements, which remain in existence today despite there being movements in Japan to separate different religions and spiritual sects. I also found this to be compelling as it displays how Japanese culture today functions within amassed layers of historical, cultural and religious aspects (ex. symbols of imperial rule on the doors to enter some temples, Buddhist figures depicted alongside Chinese-originated symbols, like dragons, etc.). Rather than having these distinct areas operate within isolation, Japan seems to now embrace the coexistence of overlapping traditions.

The Yasukuni Shrine has stuck with me due to its controversial nature, but not only has the way the museum approached Japanese history provided food for thought, but learning about the atrocities committed by other countries really opened my eyes to how every party involved was both victimized and guilty of brutality (ex. Americans taking the body parts of deceased Japanese people back to the states as trophies). However, I take fault with how this shrine and museum glorifies nationalism in a sense that overlooks how their own people were violently subjected to war in ways that were unethical: For instance, the “comfort women” who were essentially sex slaves used by the Japanese military who lost their lives although they couldn’t have the same level of pride or honor that soldiers who died in the war could possess. Japan frames these women as “volunteers” but they were not. Class A war criminals were quietly enshrined on the property, meanwhile, there’s only brief mentions of how the women and children were affected by violence. One instance of addressing that population in the museum was a display that concerned how women and children poisoned themselves upon impending Soviet invasion. What I do appreciate about this site’s approach to the deceased is how the dead are regarded as protective divinities who watch over their native villages after they have passed in many instances. Nevertheless, Dr. Droubie pointed out historical inconsistencies in some areas of the museum, including one area that addressed how a warlord died when “his train was bombed”, while omitting that it was renegades from the Japanese military that caused the bombing. Purposeful constructions of historical memory in publically-accessible spaces like this shape how both Japanese and foreign visitors will internalize Japan’s identity. There are statues outside of the shrine that depict grieving families, widows, and animals lost to war which all aim to evoke sympathy for the Japanese people and country from their viewers. I’m not saying that there shouldn’t be sympathy extended by visitors to victims of the war, but I feel that sympathy should be extended to all sides –and so should accountability– because this war is not black and white when thinking of who was the “bad guy”. I think there is also space for recognizing the hypocrisy of people responding to Japan’s actions with specific demonization of this country during the war because, ultimately, so many countries were guilty of really disgusting things, such as torture. What really made me feel something at the museum –as I’m sure it does for many tourists– was the area that contained letters written by people in the military. Captain Komicha Takashi Mikoto wrote a latter to his family before engaging in a suicide attack for Japan expressing that he wishes he could do more and that although he was happy to serve his country, he was terrified and sad to be ending his life this way. His father insisted that he was glad his son died in this mission because it was “purposeful”, which displays this international idea of the honor that is associated with being a martyr for a cause. Ultimately, this site focuses on the suffering and heroism of the Japanese without addressing Japan’s responsibility in their wrongdoings, but it’s a good reminder of how sites created to "preserve" historical memory may actually create a certain narrative of memory that they want people to take away and how this practice is not at all limited to Japan’s historical sites.