"Ningyo Kuyoh": Japan's Funeral of Dolls (Aug. 1995) by Mike O'Connell n the land that launched the capsule hotel, spawned sushi pizza and pioneered the pantyless bar, you might think a funeral for dolls is just the latest in offbeat Japanese chic. You'd be very wrong. Japan's ningyo kuyoh is a serious Buddhist rite to draw out the souls of dolls who have reached the end of their useful lives. Rather than a fad, it's one of the time-honored kuyoh observances, which respect old objects for their usefulness before they are discarded. The Sapporo Journal witnessed this fascinating ceremony at Mariya Handicrafts. Ashes to Ashes Presiding over the kuyoh today is Makoto Ohta, head monk of the Shinzenkoji temple in Susukino. Although the kuyoh ceremony is more commonly performed in temples, the crafts shop where it is held today sponsors the rite annually for those who wish to pay their last respects to their diminutive companions. With the lifeless bodies of several hundred dolls lying neatly wrapped nearby, Ohta ritually purifies the area at the head of the room, and gifts are arranged: Fruit and flowers are set on the makeshift altar to please the gods and draw them here. The cleric and a novice chant, first to call the gods and then to ask them to draw out the spirits of the dolls. (The owner of the shop will later tell us that the clerical Japanese of the incantations is stylized beyond his comprehension.) The celebrants approach the alter, press their hands together in prayer, pinch incense between their thumb and index finger and touch it to their forehead. After the participants pay their respects, the monk leaves. The bodies are then taken to be burned, but not in your run-of-the-mill gomi furnace. They are "cremated" in a special, privately run incinerator with a chamber reserved exclusively for honored kuyoh items. A suitable end to a cherished friend. "Kuyoh" Explained After the ceremony, Koichi Matsumura, the store's proprietor speaks with us. He says that doll owners, many of whom have doted on their figures for year, find it hard just to dump them when they become worn or decrepit. "People don't like to get rid of these items, because they're beautiful and have positive associations," he explains. Because the ningyo kuyoh shows thanks and respect, the funeral metaphor is appropriate, but not completely so. "The feeling in the ningyo kuyoh is of peace and appreciation, rather than grief," Matsumura notes. When asked why virtually all of the celebrants are in their middle ages, he laments, "Young people throw things away more easily, so the ceremony is less popular with them- whereas it once was a way of teaching respect." This stems from the tendency toward volume consumption, rather than genuineness, he complains: While older dolls may be priceless objects of art, many of today's are cheap and mass-produced. Kaien Ichiki, a Shingon Buddhist monk from Kyushu who has performed more kuyoh than he can modestly say, agrees that the ceremony works on several levels. "Kuyoh ceremonies have important practical implications," says the jolly Ichiki. "From a material aspect, they teach the avoidance of wastefulness, as well as care and respect for things. Emotionally, they bring peace by releasing pent-up feelings and enabling a sense of completion. Finally, the religious implications are the recognition that people, even things, are part of a cosmic oneness whose energy fills everything." Ichiki, who has been a monk for 25 years and headed the Kaienji Temple on Yoron Island, Kagoshima Prefecture, chooses the metaphor of a glass to explain the rite's metaphysics. "As with a vessel in the ocean, when we put a body in the cosmic pool it can't help but fill with energy," he explains. "When the vessel is broken - when the doll is burned - the energy flows back into the pool. The kuyoh marks this." In Japan, such demarcations are important. Thus it is not surprising to find kuyoh for many items whose time has come: worn-out combs, frayed calligraphy brushes and blunt needles that have seen their last kimono. "Even invented ones, like for furniture!" Ichiki cites with a hint of disdain. Less mystical readers might wonder how these spirits are supposed to get into the dolls in the first place. Ichiki outlines three theories: "Some say the doll develops a soul from the artisanship and care taken in fashioning the object. Others think its spirit arises from the positive interaction with and warm feelings of its owner. The final way is for a Buddhist monk to perform a shohne ire (soul fixing) rite. For example, when a Buddha statue is moved from one temple to another, a shohne nuki (soul drawing-out) ceremony is undertaken, and when it reaches its destination, shohne ire is performed. Dawn of the Dolls If theningyo kuyoh seems odd or trivial, it should be remembered that dolls have had deep cultural and religious significance in Japan and elsewhere. The oldest doll unearthed is an alabaster figure dating from Babylonian times, and Egyptian tombs were stocked with figures. In Japan, clay dolls can be traced to the early Jomon culture and are believed to have had magical significance. In the Kofun period (300-700), haniwa - similar to China's famous terra cotta funerary guardians - surrounded tomb mounds of the ruling classes. In Japan, hitogata effigies were drifted downstream or burned, sometimes after being rubbed on a person who wished to be rid of a physical or karmic ill. In tribute to the cultural significance of doll making, in the last four decades, Japan has bestowed on five doll masters the laurels of Intangible Cultural Properties. Don't Just Stop the MEIWAKU (Aug. 1995) by Mark Levin In 1992, I returned to the "smokers paradise", Japan, that I had left eight years earlier. The comparison with my home in Seattle, on the west coast of the United States was dramatic. In Japan, although there had been some progress in trains and train stations, smoke attacked me in coffee shops, restaurants, bars, in the bank lobby when I waited to set up my new account, on street corners, in fact almost everywhere. My clothes stank; delicious food tasted lousy. It was unpleasant and I was angry at all of the smokers around me. I stayed angry as I looked around and saw parents smoking in their cars, windows closed, with their babies and young children inside. At the time, I was living in Kamakura, where many school groups from all over Japan travel to look at the famous historical sites. I would grow angry when I saw middle school teachers standing with students at Hachiman Shrine, smoking cigarettes in front of the students without a second thought. I would grow angry when I saw teenagers buying cigarettes from vending machines, the shopkeepers and people passing by wouldn't say anything to them about the law or the health consequences. I would grow angry watching close friends, who run a lovely cafe restaurant in Kamakura, spend eight hours every day working in a small space filled with cigarette smoke. Even though my friends were not smoking, I knew that many years of working in that environment was hurting them, increasing their risk of cancer, birth defects, and other terrible diseases. However, after being in Japan for several months, my feelings began to change. I decided that it was wrong for me to be angry at so many Japanese people, especially because they weren't smoking to attack me but because they live in a culture where smoking is popular, smoking is stylish, smoking is heavily promoted, and information about the dangers of smoking is presented in a whisper. Instead, as an American who's learned much about the harms caused by tobacco, a new feeling came to me. This was sadness. I am sad when I think of the pain and suffering that tobacco is causing in Japan, and more importantly, that tobacco will cause for Japan's future. This is especially true, when I compare Japan today with the Japan that I remember ten years ago. I sense a dramatic increase in the number of young people, especially young women, who are smoking. I'm saddened to think that these young people begin smoking to look stylish, but that many of them will quickly become trapped in nicotine addition. They will join the six out of ten Japanese smokers who want to quit or cut back, but can't. And then they will suffer chronic coughs and colds, greater risks of miscarriages and birth defects, weaker physical strength, and ultimately join the one-half of all smokers who die of tobacco related illnesses (including my good friend Mr. Oka, a life-long heavy smoker who died of lung cancer in Kamakura last summer). This causes me to ask who is responsible for the harm tobacco is causing in Japan. The answer is easy - Japan Tobacco, Philip Morris, and the Ministry of Finance. And so, I have become angry again. But no longer at the smokers, but at the "smoke makers" and their co-conspirators. The tobacco issue doesn't stop at the question of smokers versus non-smokers' rights. By limiting the debate, we lose. Think, if everyone in Japan stopped smoking, nobody would have to worry about non-smokers' rights. Of course, non-smokers' rights are extremely important. But fighting only about non-smokers' rights is a trap. Non-smokers need to find common points with smokers, so the numbers grow and the smoke-makers will start to listen. Fighting tobacco makes a better world for smokers and non-smokers alike. So, what should we do? Ask local governments to provide counseling to smokers who want to quit, but who can't. Support smokers and their families who want to sue tobacco companies for the terrible harm nicotine addiction has caused to their lives. Ask the Ministry of Education to prohibit smoking by teachers in front of students and improve health-related education about the dangers of smoking. Ask the Ministry of Labor to protect Japan's workers, who are entitled to work in a safe environment that is not polluted with toxic substances, including cigarette smoke, that will slowly kill them. Ask the Ministry of Justice to enforce laws to prevent the sale of tobacco to minors. Ask the Ministry of Health to research how to make it easier to quit smoking. Ask the Ministry of Agriculture to help Japan's tobacco farmers diversify their crops o prepare for a future decline in the tobacco economy. In this, the 50th Anniversary year of the Second World War, we recall not only the post-war years, but the war itself and the tragic loss of life on all sides. Now the post-war generation is being poisoned by smoking and tragic losses continue. Don't just stop the meiwaku (annoyance), stop the problem. The Difference That Sumo Makes (Aug. 1995) by Don Frank You've opened your copy of The Sapporo Journal and you see . . . another article about sports! All sports are basically the same, you might say. And in many respects I might agree with you. But the sport of Sumo, it seems to me, is qualitatively different. Though it may look like nothing but two very large men wrestling on a raised dirt floor, Sumo contains a traditional, spiritual aspect that is quite evidently lacking in virtually any other athletic competition. Sumo started many hundreds of years ago with its roots deeply grounded in the Shinto faith. From very early times it was a form of entertainment for Japanese nobility and even for the Emperor himself. Today the Emperor and his wife still enjoy attending the tournaments held in Tokyo. The Shinto influence can be clearly seen even before the tournament begins. The construction of the dohyo, or ring, is steeped in the rituals of Shinto. The dohyo is made of a special dirt called rakida, which comes only from Chiba Prefecture near Tokyo. The dirt forms a two-foot high, 18-foot square base; rice bales, or tawara, make a circle on the top. The round and square shapes symbolize heaven and earth. After the ring is completed, there is a special ceremony presided over by a Shinto priest, who blesses the ring for the upcoming tournament. Another spiritual facet of Sumo is the ring-entering ceremony or dohyo iri. The wrestlers of the top two divisions march into the auditorium in single file, preceded by the gyoji or referee. They mount the ring and walk all the way around the rice bales until they form a complete circle. Then, facing the center of the ring, they clap their hands to let the gods know that someone pure has arrived and is seeking the gods' help. The symbolism continues as the wrestlers begin each of their matches. Each rikishi takes some salt in one hand and throws it across the surface of the ring. Salt is a purifying element in Shinto. If, as they are wrestling, one of the men is injured and blood is spilled on the ring, further purification is needed. The ring attendants, or yobidashi, quickly proceed into the ring and spread salt on the bloodstained area. The salt, blood, and tainted soil are completely removed and carefully disposed of. I have shared with you just a few significant, spiritual aspects of this unusual sport. I hope you will enjoy watching Sumo for yourself in September and November. Maybe you can find other symbolic points on your own. Nagoya Basho Update Well, the Nagoya Basho lived up to all its expectations as the upset tournament. As early as day two, the Komusubi East rikishi, Akinoshima, had to drop out due to a serious foot injury suffered while fighting Yokozuna Akebono. The doctor says he cannot even walk and will most likely be out for the Tokyo Basho in September. On day three, Akebono was swiftly upset with a powerful push to the chest by 3rd ranked Maegashira west rikishi Takatori. On the same day the east's top ranked rikishi Kotonishiki rapidly hustled Ozeki Wakanohana off the dohyo. Eastern's fourth ranked Maegashira Kenko lost no time on day five as he decisively beat Ozeki Musashimaru. Kenko. On day six, Akebono suffered another defeat at the hands of Sekiwake West rikishi Musoyama. The Yokozuna has been trying to master belt techniques this basho. But it seems obvious that he needs much more practice off the dohyo rather than on. Then on day eight, the undefeated Takanohana suffered his first loss. Kotonishiki drove the Yokozuna back and off the dohyo. On day 12, with the second week of the tournament well underway, Sekiwake Musoyama again notched a splendid victory over Ozeki Wakanohana. The 23-year-old Musoyama seems made for the world of Sumo as he continues his drive toward Ozeki promotion. Akebono was still working on his belt-throwing style on day 13 as he fell to defeat at the hands of a fellow Hawaiian, Ozeki Musashimaru. But Takanohana beat Musashimaru the next day. With this triumph the Yokozuna assured himself of the Emperor's Cup. But Akebono was still a force to consider. On the final day, or senshuraku, Takanohana found him just too much to handle. In any case, Takanohana has now captured his tenth tournament win. As the English saying goes, he lost the battle but won the war! I wish all the rikishi good luck in September and a swift recovery to injured rikishi Akinoshima, Higonoumi, and one of my favorites, Tomonohana!. Nibutani Dam: Indigenous Rights vs. Development ...or Greed? (Aug. 1995) by Juanita Kwok Nibutani is nestled alongside a range of forested green hills in the Saru River Valley and is surrounded by lush rice fields. About 70 to 80 percent of its 150 households are of Ainu descent, which makes it the largest single community of Ainu in Japan. It is recognised as retaining a distinctive Ainu culture. Though the only traditional Ainu thatched homes (chisse) now standing are the few outside the Nibutani Ainu Culture Museum, from the videos inside, it is apparent that until at least the 1960s some Ainu still lived in chisse. Nibutani resident Kayano Shigeru began collecting Ainu artifacts 40 years ago and recording Ainu songs, stories, and the language 30 years ago. The townspeople collected donations, with the cooperation of the Utari Association, to open a museum in 1973 to exhibit Mr. Shigeru's collection. When many of the items were purchased by Biratori-cho to establish the Nibutani Ainu Culture Museum, Kayano continued his archival work and opened his own museum. Today, classes in Ainu language and culture are held there. A path behind the Nibutani Museum leads to the Saru River, which features in the Ainu epic The Yukara. The Saru River area has long been home to Ainu and is central to Ainu life and mythology. The Ainu spirit Okikurumi is said to have descended to nearby Hayaopira and lived among the Ainu to teach them the ways of nature. Gazing at the river, it is hard to feel spirituality here, with bulldozers on the opposite bank busily digging and carting off gravel. This not-so-tranquil river scene is dominated by the construction of the immense Nibutani Dam, whose completion will flood the river to form a reservoir. While most of the residents, the majority of whom earn their living through seasonal construction work or tourism, reluctantly welcome the dam for the current and potential financial boost it brings to this economically lagging town, two residents are staunchly opposed. Indeed, they have gone to court to press their case. In 1973, the Hokkaido Development Bureau first held a meeting with landowners to discuss the dam proposal, and in 1984, sales negotiations began with individual owners. When Shigeru Kayano and Tadashi Kaizawa refused to sell, the Compulsory Land Purchasing Law was invoked and the land forcibly expropriated from them. This prompted the two to bring civil action against a Hokkaido prefectural government committee. After Kaizawa's death in 1992, his son Koichi succeeded him as plaintiff alongside Kayano. Supported by the voluntary services of 11 lawyers, the plaintiffs are suing the government over the construction of the dam. As they refuse to accept the payment, this sum has been held by the Ministry of Justice. Yet unless the verdict is decided within the next four years, they will never see the money, as their legal entitlement expires at the end of that time with the national government as the beneficiary. Nonetheless, they are willing to fight to the bitter end. The dam was initially planned to supply fresh water for a proposed industrial project in Tomakomai. During the 1960s, when Japanese economic growth averaged 11 percent, Tomakomai was envisioned as the center of industry in Hokkaido and the government purchased a huge tract of land to sell to industrial developers. Nibutani Dam was to provide some 560,000 tonnes of water daily to the area. However, the Oil Shock of 1971, which forced Japan to switch its emphasis from heavy to light industry and high technology, struck a blow to the project and chased off buyers, leaving the government responsible for massive loans. The drive to Nibutani took me through the industrial base which remains an expanse of vacant land with one deserted fenced-off area containing rows of giant oil tanks. Seeing this drove home the ambitions of the project and the extent of its failure. In 1994, water conveyance from the dam to the area had not yet been established and, while the land remains unused, discussions have been made on rezoning for residential and recreational use, neither of which would require the dam's construction. No mention was made in the original proposal for the dam's use as a hydro-electric source,　but the proposal was revised later to include plans for a power station. The plaintiffs wonder why it is necessary when there are already three power stations along the Saru River. The consequent demand placed on the river has reduced its size considerably. Koichi Kaizawa recalls that when he was 12 or 13 years old, levees were constructed to protect adjoining fields which were regularly flooded when the river breached its banks. He now estimates the river to be only a third of the level it was when he was a child, and it is indeed hard to imagine the narrow river ever having posed a threat. Yet flood-prevention has been cited in the updated proposal as another reason for the dam's construction. The first court session was on July 8, 1993, and almost a year later the 11th submission was made. In the 10th submission, scholars testified to the cultural significance of the Nibutani Ainu culture and criticized the excavations for the dam. Though receiving little media attention, success by the plaintiffs would reverberate strongly around the country by redefining Japan's current identity as a homogeneous nation. While Ainu protestations were insufficient reason to halt the original plans for the dam, a reversal of the decision at this late stage would be perceived as a recognition of the legitimacy of their claims. Meanwhile, construction continues unabated. At the current rate the dam should be completed by March 1996. While bulldozers continue their reshaping of the Saru River and gravel is hauled off to be sold for \130 per cubic meter, Kayano and Kaizawa are not sitting back idly and waiting for the court to decide in their favor. In 1994, Shigeru Kayano was elected to the Diet's Upper House, where he is lobbying for the introduction of new legislation to replace the existing Former Aborigines Protection Law. Kaizawa, on the other hand, has forged links with the Osaka environmental group Green Earth Network, whose members initiated a project called chikoronai to restore land in Biratori-cho to forest. The group is currently just \100,000 short of the funds (collected through donations) needed to purchase an initial 3.5-hectare area and plans to collect \30 million over the next 10 years to establish a foundation. The land will be restored to natural forest essential to the continuation of Ainu culture and be put to practical use in activities such as collecting mountain vegetables and supplying plant materials needed for Ainu crafts. In seeking precedents for their lawsuit, Ainu groups have begun a process of networking with indigenous peoples movements abroad. The Ainu National Congress recently resolved to join the Bangkok-based Asia Indigenous Peoples Pact. On the home front, Ainu participated in the Uruma Festival held in Okinawa to protest a marine sports festival and the Showa Emperor's visit to Okinawa, thus forging a link between the indigenous peoples of north and south. In 1993, The Utari Association organised and hosted the Nibutani Forum, a four-day gathering of 4,000 people from 13 countries in honor of the designation of 1993 as the UN International Year of Indigenous Peoples. The participants at the Forum who were invited to join the Ainu in a traditional salmon hunting exhibition were incensed to learn of the prohibition placed on the Ainu against catching salmon, their traditional staple. Only two years into the UN Decade for Indigenous Peoples, significant advances are being made in recognition, restoration of rights, and compensation for past injustices suffered by native people throughout the world, e.g., the Mabo Legislation in Australia that overturned the notion of Australia as a land uninhabited prior to colonisation, and that recognizes the Australian Aborigines as the original owners. While the Japanese government recognizes the Ainu only as a minority and not an indigenous minority, Ainu must raise their own funds in order to send representatives to international conferences. Though evidence that the Ainu are an indigenous people grows and claims for restitution become louder, it would appear the Japanese government is hoping these voices [of protest] will be drowned out as the dam floods the Saru River. Those interested in the court proceedings or in getting involved may contact the Nibutani Dam case support group through Yasutoshi Nakamura 602-5 N4 Nango dori 7, Shiroishi-ku, Sapporo (Tel: 011 846 - 4727)