Saihoji (西芳寺)

Saihoji (西芳寺), also known as Kokedera (Moss Temple) has been on my list for a while.  This temple in Nishikyo-ku, not far from where I live, requires a reservation.  I'd made one twice before, but circumstances prevented me from going.  With my third reservation I finally made it.

Just like the old days, I got lost on my way.  A young woman selling newspaper subscriptions pointed me in the right direction.  I soon realized I had been to this locale before.  This happens to me more and more these days.

Inside the hondo (main hall) I showed my postcard reservation and paid the exceedingly steep entrance fee of ¥3,000.  Myself and maybe 40 or 50 other visitors were directed to sit at small fumizukue (writing desks) aligned in neat rows on either side of the naijin (altar).

Visitors to Saihoji are required to copy sutra (Buddhist scripture).  Shakyo (sutra copying) is considered a highly virtuous exercise healing the body and mind and bringing blessings.  In my Japanese class three years ago we learned how to write Hiragana and Katakana, so I know the basic strokes and movements of Japanese.  But Kanji is something altogether different and a good deal more complex.  I was nonetheless eager to try my hand.

At each desk was a fude (brush), suzuri (inkstone), sumi (ink stick) and a bunchin (paper weight), Though I've seen these things in various stationery and art shops around Kyoto I had no idea how to use them.  I watched my neighbors.  

My Japanese comrades attacked the sutra with confidence, verve and grace.  I struggled to even see the tiny text.  I was just getting into the rhythm of the shakyo when the attendant priests began the kito (prayer chants) beating a mokugyo (so-called "fish" drum) and striking a kin (a cauldron-shaped percussion instrument made from bronze).  This was engrossing and hypnotic.  I quickly forgot about the sutra writing.

I don't know if we were expressly forbidden from entering the garden before completing our shakyo, but that seemed to be the implication.  I labored on as the hondo emptied out. In the end it took me more than 30 minutes to finish transcribing the 18 lines of Kanji.

The garden was beautiful, of course, but not quite stunning.  Suffering from a lack of recent rainfall, the more than 120 varieties of moss were a less than vibrant green.  However, owing to the limited capacity at the temple and my slow sutra writing I did find a pleasant quietness there.  The afternoon sun partnered with the giant trees and a cool breeze to cast fantastic moving shadows over the lumpy, moss-covered earth.

¥3,000 seems a lot for an afternoon contemplating lightness and darkness, but then a temple is not a theatre; we don't go to be entertained.