Why Fishers in Oiso Do Not Catch Octopuses?

As I promised in the previous post, here is a very fascinating folklore from my hometown, Oiso.

In Oiso, fishers traditionally do not catch octopuses, and this is a folklore that explains why:

During the reign of Emperor Ōjin (270- 310), there lived a fisherman called Takonojo (蛸之丞; たこのじょう). Tako, by the way, means an octopus.

One day, when he was fishing as usual, he saw something glittering, drifting in the waves.

Lo and behold, it was a small octopus, and it began approaching Takanojo’s fishing boat!

The octopus crawled up onto his boat and suddenly began transforming into a shining statue of a Thousand-Armed Kannon (千手観音), which is said to be a manifestation of the Buddha’s compassion.

This is not the actual statue, but here is an example of a Senju Kannon. This Kannon is from the 14th century (Nanbokucho period/ early Muromachi period) and owned by the Tokyo National Museum.

This statue was first enshrined at Koma Temple (高麗寺) but moved to Keikakuin Temple.

Because of this legend, real Oiso fishers do not catch octopuses.

What puzzles me, though, is that Buddhism reached Japan in 538AD, which was well after this miraculous incident happened in my hometown.

Anyhow, no octopus carpaccio for us Oiso-ites 😁

Photo Credits

Senju Kannon

Tokyo National Museum, CC BY 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Home Sweet Home Oiso No.1

It’s 4:30AM.

Someone is making loud scraping noise right outside of our bedroom.

I peek through the curtains…

It’s a surfer, busily applying wax on his surfboard.

Then, I realise- I’m back home in Oiso!

My hometown, which is located 70km to the west of Tokyo, perhaps is one of the Top 10 destinations for the Japanese surfers.

The number of surfers per capita is abnormally high, and in summer the main beach literally gets filled with local and visiting surfers. It’s like the Shibuya Station crossing if you know what I mean.

Naturally, the town is full of the outdoor types, hippies, creatives and plain weirdos (like myself).

It’s a historical town, too, that once hosted 2 ex-Japanese Prime Ministers and 6 other PM’s who had their holiday homes there.

Some of you history-buffs may know that it was one of The Fifty-three Stations of the Tōkaidō during the Edo Period (1603-1867).

The Japanese literary giant, Toson Shimazaki, lived in Oiso, too, and Haruki Murakami still has one of his houses there (he’s rich).

I realised that I am describing it like a utopia, but it’s really a sleepy little town with a population of around 30,000 people. Most Japanese would just bypass right through unless they are surfers or history fans.

But to me this is my home, and I have a lot to talk about!

In the next few blog entries, I will be sharing about this town that only the locals know, including its local legends and folklores.

My back and shoulder are not doing great at the moment, so I’ll stop here for now.

See you next time!

Ideal Environment to Perform Rakugo

Now many of the Covid restrictions are gone here in NZ, it is finally time for me to get back to stage!

However, I have unfortunately had to turned down a few rakugo performances because the stages offered were not suitable to perform rakugo.

This inspired me to write this article about an ideal environment for performing rakugo. I am not too fussy about the appearance or size of the stage, but there are some important requirements that need to be met.

Please read this first if you are planning to invite me or the rakugo club to an event 😊

The most important thing I need to emphasise is that rakugo is a form of theatre.

It is an art that attempts to paint pictures in the audience’s minds with only words and very few props without any elaborate sets or costumes. It is only possible when both the performers and audience can concentrate on the stories without interruptions. It is, in fact, the audience members who depict pictures in their own heads. Rakugo can only exist in partnership between the performers and audience members.

This means that rakugo performers need:

  • A quiet, enclosed space where both performers and audience can focus only on rakugo. This means a stage near stalls or people walking around isn’t suitable. Outdoor performances should generally be avoided unless it’s a purpose-built space like an amphitheatre.
  • A space where performer’s voice can easily travel such as a theatre, a school classroom, a lecture hall, etc. If the space is large, you might need a microphone as rakugo simply does not work if the performer’s voice can not be heard clearly…

You might have noticed by now, but this is just like any other theatre performance.

But the beauty of rakugo is that it requires very little as long as the conditions above are met.

All you need is a zabuton (Japanese cushion, which I will bring), a red cloth (which I will bring), and perhaps a place to hang up a mekuri (a calligraphy with the performer’s name; I often hang it off a music stand).

Looking forward to hearing from you! My schedule is very empty as of today 😁

Photo Attribution

vera46, CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Is This a Miracle? Superstitious Japanese!

We Japanese are superstitious people.

Regardless of our everyday high tech life, many of us still follow our traditional ways and beliefs, which I guess is one of the reasons why many people are still drawn to my country of birth.

One of the superstitions that we have is that it is good luck when a tea stem stands up in your green tea.

Deep down, we know that it is not scientifically sound to assume that a piece of stem would affect our future, but many do get overly excited whenever this phenomenon occurs to us.

If you live in Japan long enough, you will eventually hear the following phrase:

見てみて!茶柱が立ってる!(みてみて!ちゃばしらがたってる!)

“Look, look! A tea stem is standing up! (literally means “a pillar of tea is standing up”)

With this in mind, I just witnessed a miracle.

I like to burn incense when I work to get into the zone, and, lo and behold, the following sight interrupted my work!

I screamed with joy.

うおっ!線香立ってる!(せんこうたってる!)

OMG, incense is standing up!

This, my wise readers, is a phrase that you will probably never hear or use for the rest of your life.

This is not a well-timed picture. It kept standing up like this for good few minutes!

A miraculous day is waiting for me and hopefully for you, too!

Old-Time Radio (OTR) and Rakugo

As some of you may know, New Zealand has just gone into another lockdown as of today.

As I was searching for something to do during this time of isolation, I remembered about the Old-Time Radio (OTR) that my friend and author, Kristine Ohkubo, had introduced me to a while ago.

One of her recommendations was The Great Gildersleeve, a radio sitcom that was originally broadcast from 1941 to 1958.

The entire series is available for free on Spotify, and I am currently listening to one of the episodes as I write this.

It is amazing how this series reminds me of rakugo so much.

Its humour is derived from the dialogues and situations as opposed to stand-up comedy that is often a compilation of random jokes.

Rather stereotypical and caricature-like, wholesome characters.

The same nostalgic place where your dreamy self can belong and go back to.

I can relate to the OTR almost exactly in the same way as I connect with rakugo.

By the way, Ohkubo is an Old-Time Radio enthusiast who turned a rakugo enthusiast herself.

She even went so far as publishing a book about rakugo and becoming a fellow member of the English Rakugo Association.

As I listen to Gildersleeve giggle, I can now clearly see why she became so passionate about rakugo.

Are you an OTR enthusiast? Please give me more recommendations in the comment section below!

Who Invented the Legless Japanese Ghosts?

One of the rakugo stories that I’ve always wanted to listen to is called “The Ghost of Ōkyo” (応挙の幽霊).

In this story, an antique art dealer came across a picture scroll by Maruyama Ōkyo (1733-1795), a famous realist painter from the Edo period (1603-1867), and sold it to one of his clients for 10 Ryo.

The client left 1 Ryo for the bond and went home to pay the remaining amount the following morning.

That night a beautiful ghost came out of the scroll, and she thanked the dealer for offering her sake and chanting a Buddhist sutra for her.

They enjoyed sake together, and the ghost even sang some dodoitsu poetry for him.

The morning arrived, but the ghost was still asleep, being exhausted from the previous night.

The client wondered why the scroll wasn’t delivered and asked the dealer.

The dealer answered, “I’d like to let her sleep a bit longer, sir.”

Now…

This is one of those stories that I probably wouldn’t perform myself as a lot could get lost in translation.

But what really fascinates me is that it is said Ōkyo invented the legless Japanese ghosts.

As you may know, it is traditionally believed in Japan that ghosts do not have legs.

That is why ghost characters in Japanese manga and anime are usually legless.

It is a widely accepted theory that Ōkyo was the one who was responsible for inventing the convention of legless ghosts.

If this is true, it is relatively a modern invention that is less than 300 years old.

On the left is The Ghost of Oyuki by Ōkyo.

Picture Attributions

The Ghost of Oyuki: Maruyama Ōkyo, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Yuurei: Brigham Young University, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons