Hello Kitty: Religion and Merchandise

A lot of the people in my study-abroad program expected to see Hello Kitty everywhere, or at least in a lot of places; it's one of the many stereotypes of Japan/Japanese culture that everything is cutesy and branded with Hello Kitty. Although stereotypes, like myths, typically contain a fragment of truth, it seemed during the semester that there was no truth to this one. That all changed once I started backpacking through Japan.

Before I discuss the major instances of Hello Kitty-ness I saw, I'd like to stress that I'm not sure why I started seeing that enigmatic kitten pop up on my travels--it would probably be a foolish ignorance of sample bias to speculate that Hello Kitty is all a tourist trap (I should also note that many of the tourists are Japanese or at least Asian). Since Hello Kitty is something like a cross between a corporate mascot and a logo for Sanrio, a Japanese merchandise company that has been specifically targeting the selling power of cuteness for decades, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see her in tourist spots. However, the idea of merchandising doesn't tell the whole story.

Hello Kitty, Itsukushima, and Momiji Manjuu

The Sanrio shop on Itsukushima

This is a perfect example of Hello Kitty as a driving force and an excuse for merchandise. There's a Japanese snack called a manjuu, which is basically a small, dense round bread item with filling (typically green tea or a red bean paste).

A typical momiji manjuu.

At some point, someone on the island of Itsukushima put a nifty twist on the manjuu by making it in the shape of maple leaves to play off the island's many maple trees. Thus the momiji manjuu was born (momiji means maple tree). Not to be outdone, Sanrio added to the twist by reworking the maple leaf's proportions to accomodate Hello Kitty's head. The cuteness is enhanced by the light Engrish on the signs. Click to see a larger picture if you can't read them.

Hello Kitty, Temples, and Protective Charms

A bunch of standard o-mamori.

Pretty much every single temple I have seen in Japan sells little fabric bags that are refered to as o-mamori (Protection or protectors), which is typically translated as "protective charm". They're available in many styles and for all sorts of things, such as good luck, academic success, and safety at intersections, among others. Although the idea of functional protective charms might seem downright silly and superstitious in America, many Japanese people do believe they work. There are some parts of the practice that appear to be capitalist manipulation of faith. For instance, I've been told by several hostel staff members in several cities that you have to give your charms back to a temple around New Year's and then get new ones because the change in the year makes the old charms lose their beneficial power and reverse their effect (an legitimization of forced obsolescence?). Furthermore, the design of the charms is apparently arbitrary, but temples that are tourist spots offer, in addition to the standard geometric-style designs, charms themed after the temple's particular claim to fame (Is it a souvenir or a religious item?).Nevertheless, after thinking about the Christian (or at least Catholic) analogues (crosses, rosaries, and saint medals), I concluded that the temples are probably sincere. Lots of people get or give new medals and religious symbols as the years pass (though not necessarily every year), especially to commemorate special times in their lives or pilgrimages to famous sites. After all there's nothing particularly devious about a church selling rosaries or crucifixes made from special local stone or medals of saints with a historical connection to the church, so it wouldn't be fair to jump to negative conclusions about the charms at these temples.

Explicitly Hello Kitty protective charms.

Of course any time I think I've put a cultural difference into perspective, something totally unexpected has to come along and throw me for a loop. At the Zen temple Kinkakuji (Temple of the Golden Pavillion) in Kyoto, I encountered protective charms clearly emblazoned with Hello Kitty. There goes my point of comparison: It would certainly be considered offensive or inappropriate for someone to sell a Hello Kitty crucifix, rosary, or medal (or a Nike one or one with any even remotely corporate symbol). I was so surprised, and unfortunately the staff was so busy, that I couldn't ask why the charms were considered acceptable. If I'd had greater presence of mind I'd've realized that I didn't need a Japanese word for blasphemy (which I certainly did not know)--asking whether the charm could be thought of as rude would have sufficed.

Perhaps the charms are aimed at kids (I can't know for sure since it's an American bias that something cartoony=something for kids; Anyone who saw Ren & Stimpy or looks around on the train in Japan knows otherwise.), and that makes it okay. I know I had a plastic rosary whose craftsmanship was not up to snuff until I could be trusted not to treat a nice one poorly. Maybe I'm looking at the question all wrong. Asian religions such as Buddhism and Shinto (Japan's most popular religions) tend to have far fewer absolute moral strictures (for instance no longstanding insistence that suicide is a sin) than Christianity. Perhaps o-mamori are just tokens that are meant to take bad luck or karma in the place of their bearers, and there aren't strict rules about them. Maybe they just need a blessing from a source of spiritual power and are meant to be enjoyed or appreciated by whoever receives them. If anyone has some insight, let me know. Next time I'm in Japan I'll be sure to ask.

Temples Temples Everywhere, and Most in Comet Colors

Although I had planned to see a lot of famous temples and shrines in Kyoto, I didn't realize just how many temples there were. As I walked around the city, it was as though they were like Starbucks—one on every corner. I probably should have expected as much; Supposedly more than 90% of Japan is Shinto or Buddhist, but I didn't see that many temples around Tokyo during the semester.

Anyway, here are some shots of the city and some miscellaneous photos. It's almost New Year's (Year of the Rabbit), so there are lots of bunnies.

Yanagi: Willow Trees

A river runs through the city from north to south, so there are lots of bridges and walking spots along it. Willow trees, which supposedly have special significance in Kyoto, line the banks. According to a random sign near a group of the trees, when Emperor Saga was looking for a bride hesaw a dream that told him to send a messenger to a willow tree at Rokkakudou (Hexagon Temple). Waiting at the willow was a beautiful woman, whom the Emperor later married.

Obligatory Engrish.

Sanjuusangendou: Thirty-three Bay Temple

Whoosh!

This temple's name refers to its size (a bay is some old unit of measure), but it's actually famous for its 1001 statues of Kannon, a goddess of mercy. The statues are in a special area where photography isn't allowed, so unfortunately no pictures. Also, I didn't get to see all 1001 statues (no, I didn't count them). A few of them had been rotated out for repairs. It's gotta be tough maintaining a thousand statues.

What I found more surprising, though, was that the rest of the temple was painted in UTD's school colors, orange and green. Although this was not the first temple I had been in, all of the others I had seen during the semester were various shades of brown/wood color, and most TV sshows depicted them as either brown or red. Apparently Japan is so polite and good at customer service that when I called ahead to confirm my reservation at the hostel, they called back a few hundred years and had the standard temple colors changed to be more welcoming for me (Hurray stereotypes!).

To find out the real reason for the color scheme, I had to ask a monk in the information office. Although it was pretty clear that he was dumbing the explanation down a bit in case my Japanese vocabulary was not very good, he basically said that it turns out that part of a traditional grinding process with certain stones resulted in an orange or orangey red color. That color is supposed to be the typical color of Japan's temples. The reason I hadn't seen any orange temples until then was that many of the temples in the area were being restored to that color in recent years. That didn't answer the question about the green, though. When I asked again, the monk simply said that green was thought to go well with orange. I'm not sure whether that means that historians made up the green part after discovering the orange color or whether it means that the temples were actually painted orange and green originally, but I'll take it.

So, to anyone who thinks UTD's colors are weird, I say, Exhibit Kyoto: An entire civilization (at one point the cultural center of Japan) thought it would be aesthetically pleasing to put orange and green together. It can only be culturally offensive to disagree, right?

Here are the rest of my pictures of Sanjuusangendou.

Kiyomizudera: Pure-Water Temple

The next stop on my sightseeing list was Kiyomizudera. It's a huge temple complex complete with pagodas, a brilliant view of Kyoto, and a waterfall (sort of). As if to prove the monk from Sanjuusangendou correct, most of the buildings were orange and green.

Comet Spirit

The Adventure Begins

My semester program in Tokyo finally ended today. These past few months have been a blast, but while most of the other IES students were packing up and preparing for their trips back to America, I was preparing for a different trip. Today was the first day of my three-week journey to see all the major islands of Japan (except Hokkaidou; darn Japan Rail Pass rules). My first mission as a grammar ninja was to make my way from Tokyo to Kyoto.

Anzen Dai-ichi—Safety First!

No stem cells at this Shakey's.

Although I planned to leave early in the morning, it took me longer to get all my things together than I had anticipated, mostly because I had to get the giant abandoned safety first sign I found a few days earlier to fit in my backpack (My roommates decorate the aprtment with signs). Since I had already deviated from the plan, I decided to join some friends for a goodbye lunch at  Shakey's pizza in Hara Juku. Yes, that's the same chain that Cartman clones with stem cells in South Park. It has a pretty awesome all-you-can-eat buffet deal until 4pm. After a few months in Japan, with its smaller food portions and usually higher prices, I was surprised at rediscovering just how much food fit into the limited volume of my stomach. Sitting there with my friends reminded me of the apartment CC's runs I make back home, except there's no UTD discount and it's twice the price—though the pizza, like much of Japan, is more interesting.

Unfortunately, the time for goodbyes came all too soon; I still needed to get my bags and get to the Tokyo train station. I headed back to my dorm, got my bags, said a few more goodbyes, and headed to the train station for my first ride on a bullet train, or as the Japanese say shinkansen. Incidentally, I'm not sure where the name bullet train comes from since the Japanese term means "new trunk line". Anyway, it was not a moment too soon, because I arrived at the Tokyo station just in time to catch the last bullet train of the night to Kyoto.

I was extremely excited. I was also getting pretty tired, and it didn't help that the seats were nice and roomy and the ride was smooth and practically imperceptible. Nevertheless, I was nervous enough about sleeping all the way to Osaka to stay awake until I arrived in Kyoto around 1a.m. What greeted me when I got off the train was the decked out halls of the spectacularly fancy train station, Kyoto Tower, and even Astroboy. I found my hostel, did some exploring, got my Facebook self-photo on, and went to bed to get an early start sightseeing.