A Walk in Narita

In my travels I like to wander about on foot and explore unusual places. Sometimes it is enlightening, sometimes it is pleasurable, and sometime it is just all of the above and downright amazing. This has been one of those times.

I am sitting in a business hotel near Narita Airport waiting for check-out time. Yesterday I came here because my hotel in Tokyo was all booked up and I had to come out to the airport one day early (Narita is about 60 km from Tokyo). The hotel I checked-in at Narita was outside of town in a pleasant area but isolated nevertheless. I decided to explore the area a little bit so took the hotel shuttle to the train station at Narita City, and started walking toward the nearby Naritasan Buddhist Temple, more to kill time than for anything else.

I am so glad I did. If you are looking for old Japan, the one we know from books and old prints, don't bother going to Kyoto. It is ten minutes away from the busiest airport in Japan.

The road I was on was narrow and lined with small shops and restaurants. The shops were selling Japanese knicknacks and traditional snacks, all displayed with Japanese flair, and exquisitely packaged and presented. There were spice shops, candy shops, snack shops, dry fruit shops, taro treats shops, soba shops, udon shops, a vision from old Japan, all along a spotless narrow street.

At that point in started to drizzle. Fortunately I was able to pick up a cheap umbrella from one of the souvenir stores. A little further down there was a visitor's center with a very friendly English-speaking lady to answer questions. I just asked perfunctory questions -- when is the closing time, is there an admission charge etc…

About 200 meters further I arrived at an ornate Japanese gate that was more imposing than I expected. I walked through, and it felt like I was teleported to another time.

I was in an enormous courtyard, much bigger than I expected, with traditional buddhist structures all around. I stopped at the large incense urn to pay my respect and proceeded further in.

In front of me was a building that fit my fantasy of what Shaolin Temple should be: an imposing pillared structure with large overhanging roofs. I approached and saw some monks inside preparing for some ceremony. I went around the side, took off my shoes and came in to sit down.

Suddenly the world shook -- not an earthquake but from an enormous drum on the side that a monk was beating with all his might. Then a chant arose to almost deafening level then decreased to a whisper as the main attendant seemed to be doing something.

Imagine this: a dimly lit ancient temple, with a droning chant where you can barely discern what is going on. Then suddenly in front a big flame arose in front of the old monk, casting shadows on the pillar. Now facing the old priest was another one making hand gestures over the flames. Several members of the audience walked up and handed what appeared like bags to a monk on the side who then brought it to the monk facing the audience. He elevated the bags, said what appeared to be blessings, and returned the bags to their owners. A smaller drum sounded, the prayers and chants went on for a while, and suddenly stopped. A large screen door opened on the side of the hall, and the monks filed out. I left in a daze.

I will not go into details of the different courtyards, buildings, statues. Suffice to say there was no impression of sensory overload like in many other temples. Here everything fit, and contribute to a sense of majestic repose -- I choose the words with care. In the back of the complex there is a peace tower, that somehow seems to concentrate the energy of the visitor, like the center of a mandala.

But the gardens are what is appealing. I chose a path off a courtyard, and suddenly everything seemed to disappear. I was in a moss-covered path with hundreds-year old trees and small stone ornaments on the side. It felt not eery but otherworldly. I almost expected a spirit to come out and say hello, but I would not be scared, knowing that this was hallowed grounds. A little further I arrived at a small clearing with an old building that looked like a hermitage, next to a brook with flowing water that seemed to sing. If this were not a buddhist temple I would call it a taoist paradise. I felt so at peace, in harmony with the trees the water, even the drizzling rain in the late afternoon. I did not have a camera with me but I told myself to remember this moment as much as I can.

Anyway I walked out of the temple grounds feeling not like a visitor but as a pilgrim spiritually refreshed. On the way back I picked up some traditional Japanese cookies more for the pretty packaging than for anything else.

I learned later that this temple of Naritasan was set up in 940. Do you realize that is the year that Ngo Quyen became king and started Vietnamese independence after the Bach Dang victory? This temple is old! The buildings were built much later on of course, but the whole complex is a harmonious whole.

So if you go through Narita, take some time and see the surrounding sights. It is worth it.

I was inspired by the walk and thought of a few haikus:

Up to the temple
Drops of autumn rain under
My green umbrella

Mossy sycamores
A rustic hermitage
The singing stream

Tall peace tower
Grinning Fudomyo
Falling leaves