Pilgrimages and Spiritual Quests in Japan: Part 2

 

Part II Reconstructing the quest

                               7  Current increase in walking pilgrims

                                       Eiki Hoshino

                                    Walking pilgrims

As shown in previous chapters, the Shikoku henro pilgrimage typifies Buddhist

pilgrimage in Japan. Shikoku is the fourth largest island in Japan and has an area of

approximately 19,000 km2 and a population of approximately 3,200,000. The 88

designated temples of the Shikoku henro pilgrimage are scattered throughout the Shikoku

area, and by visiting each one you complete a whole circuit of the island. Usui, among

others in this volume, has noted that Japanese pilgrimages fall into several categories, the

two main patterns being (a) visiting a single sacred area, and (b) a circuit covering many

sacred areas. The Shikoku henro pilgrimage belongs to the second category and is a

typical circuit pilgrimage of approximately 1,400 km.

    Following World War II, Japan was swept by a wave of motorization, and this

certainly influenced the tradition of pilgrimage in Shikoku. From the 1950s onwards,

pilgrims started to use large tourist buses as their mode of transportation. Then, in the

1960s, we find the ‘family car’ generation. The vast majority of the pilgrims at this point

used some form of motor vehicle. Motorization is a common trend in modern society, and

it is hardly surprising that motorized pilgrimages are on the increase.

    However, in contrast to this, a new trend is developing, or, it should be said, re-

appearing: Walking Pilgrimages. This trend seems as though it goes against the flow of

civilization. Is it a simple anachronism? If it isn’t, then what is its meaning in today’s

society? Why are these people walking? What is their purpose? What do they gain by

walking? In this paper I will introduce some of the modern walking pilgrims’ experiences

and try to fathom their world views.

    The number of people who do the Shikoku henro pilgrimage in a year is frequently

around 100,000. One per cent of this figure consists of walking pilgrims, that is, about

1,000 persons. Some data, however, indicate that up to 10 per cent of the pilgrims may be

doing the trip on foot.

    A walking pilgrimage can take many forms. In the case of the Shikoku henro

pilgrimage one form is to visit every site (toshiuchi). Then there is the pilgrimage in

which you visit each prefecture in Shikoku in turn (kugiriuchi). Also, there has been a

long tradition of people visiting merely those areas where pilgrimage sites are relatively

dense. This kind of pilgrimage is known as ‘the seven-temple visiting’ or ‘the ten-temple

visiting’ pilgrimages. In recent years an increasing number of people have come just for

the weekend or on holiday to visit the temples and do the pilgrimage in three days.

    The pattern the pilgrimage may take can vary greatly. A pilgrimage can, for instance,

be: (a) a 100 per cent walking pilgrimage; (b) a pilgrimage where you are invited by

someone and go together or (c) a pilgrimage done through a combination of walking,

                       Pilgrimages and spiritual quests in Japan     64

using the bus and/or train. In this ‘combination pattern’ there are many smaller patterns,

for instance, when a pilgrim does not really want to use a car or a train, but has no other

option. Furthermore, some people prefer to travel alone, others travel as a couple; still

others will travel in a group.

   From where does this present-day boom of walking pilgrimages originate? Maybe it is

linked quite generally to the so-called ‘walking-boom’. According to a recent survey,

conducted by the Prime Minister’s Office, the most popular form of exercise is walking.

In conjunction with this walking fad, however, one mustn’t overlook the important

traditional Buddhist teaching placed on walking. I will expand upon this point briefly.

   From the introduction of Buddhism, many types of ascetic practices have played an

important role in Japan (see also Yoshida in this volume). Corporal suffering was a

prerequisite for the purification of the mind. A particularly distinctive feature in Japanese

tradition is that walking along the steep roads of pilgrimage implies doing penance and

seeking purification. As Nakamura Ikuo points out:

        It seems that the Japanese have a character trait that makes walking a goal

        in itself. We can see this in the aristocrats of olden times, who stubbornly

        opted to walk when visiting temples and shrines. What is more there is an

        old folk song which says, ‘It cannot be an ascetic practice if you use a

        horse.’ The more the pilgrimages in Japan make walking a goal in itself,

        the more a journey to the temples will begin to take on a profound

        meaning. The pilgrims must have realised that a pure body and mind do

        not come merely from religious services or confinement in temples, but

        through painful suffering in the process of reaching the sacred temples.

        We find a paradox here in that walking is a hardship, yet at the same time,

        can also be a joy.

                                                                       (1987:23–54)

What Nakamura is saying is that the Japanese pilgrimage has added a strong religious

meaning to walking, and that Japanese pilgrims, who make walking a goal in itself, place

great importance on the process of going to the temples or shrines, more so perhaps than

being at the actual target of the pilgrimage.

   It is possible that the idea of stressing the significance of walking may lie at the root of

the Shikoku henro pilgrimage with its 88 temples. In other words, ‘To increase the

number of spiritual places means to increase the number of mileposts, which in turn

imposes more suffering, which again means experiencing a more thorough purification

and ecstasy’ (Nakamura 1987:50). Accordingly, the profound meaning of the journey to

the temples reveals itself in the reports on the experiences of present-day walking

pilgrims (Kobayashi 1990:162; Sōdai 1997:91).

                      Why do people go on ‘walking pilgrimages?’

The following excerpts are taken from the reports of pilgrims, from interviews I have

conducted, and also from information from web pages. Here, only a very small portion of

the collected information can be presented.1

                        Current increase in walking pilgrims      65

   One thing many of today’s pilgrims have in common is that they assert their motive

for doing the Shikoku henro pilgrimage is not religious faith. Here are some statements:

1. Mr A (approximately 50 years old, active businessman, kugiriuchi-type pilgrimage,

   information taken from a web page):

        My reason for going on the pilgrimage was not religious. It was just a private trip

        that used the route of the traditional pilgrimage… Actually, I was enjoying ‘paid

        relaxation vacation time,’ but it was only at the very end of that vacation that I

        thought of going on a pilgrimage. I chant the Prajna-paramita-sutra at the

        pilgrimage sites, but my pilgrimage is more of a hobby. Personally I am not a

        student of Buddhism.

2. Mr/Ms B (Couple, kugiriuchi-type pilgrimage, interview):

        I recently had my 55th birthday. My wages dropped to 70%. Basically it was the

        aspect of ‘moving’ that appealed to me. Ever since I was young I have loved to

        run and to walk. I thought that the two of us would go abroad somewhere, but in

        the end we chose Shikoku. It’s not because we were religious. There were some

        people who said it sounded very religious, and they wondered why we would do

        such a thing, but we didn’t care what they said. Deep in my heart I am a

        sportsman, and it was the spiritual challenge that I did it for.

3. Mr/Ms C (author of the book Going on a Pilgrimage as ‘Two Fellow Pilgrims’ After

   Retirement; cf. Kobayashi 1990):

        I am an average Japanese person, and I’m not particularly knowledgeable about

        the Buddhist religion, nor am I especially religious (ibid: 3–4)… When it comes

        to the religious beliefs of Buddhism, besides being ignorant, I never had high

        hopes connected with it… (After retiring) I had this feeling of having been

        released from the organisation, and I felt like I was free, so I went on the

        pilgrimage to savour that feeling.

                                                                                    (ibid: 32)

4. Ms D (single woman in her 30s, interview):

        I am a tour conductor. I was engaged to be married, but I broke it off just before

        the day. At that time, I was tired and everything was going wrong. As a conductor

        I went on pilgrimage tours and also visited Acalas. One of the tour leaders was a

        Buddhist monk and he encouraged us to go on a pilgrimage, I just felt like going.

        I practised the copying of a sutra, and I prepared myself.

5. Mr/Ms E (author of the book Walking Pilgrimage in Shikoku, 1996):

        I’m not a particularly devoted Shintō or Buddhist believer although I feel

        reverence for gods and Buddha… When you have lived for 60 years, grime has

        collected in your body and mind, you become soiled with evil passions. So you

        need to go on a pilgrimage to clean out your body and your mind, you need

        refreshing.

6. Ms F (single female in her 20s, interview):

        When I was in high school, I saw a program about the Shikoku henro pilgrimage.

        I thought I would go while I was in junior college, but I never got the chance.

        After I found a job, one of my co-workers went to Shikoku and did a pilgrimage;

        she was actually on TV. I got plenty of advice from this co-worker… Gradually I

                       Pilgrimages and spiritual quests in Japan     66

        lost interest in my job. I loved to walk, and I was also interested in self-training. I

        wanted to have that feeling of achievement. So, I left my job and went to do the

        Shikoku henro pilgrimage.

7. Mr G (55, voluntarily retired from his department head position in a business,

   interview):

        Somewhere in my brain, I was always thinking about my superior who once did

        the Shikoku henro pilgrimage. I thought about my 80-year life. How would I

        spend the next twenty years? I wanted to harden my body. I wanted to build up

        my self-confidence by doing the Shikoku henro pilgrimage. I had the feeling that

        if I wasn’t able to do the Shikoku henro pilgrimage, what would I do with the rest

        of my life? I thought, maybe by going with my wife I could reflect upon my

        family, for which until then I had never had any time.

I am quite aware that the quality of the answers differs between the indirect phrasing of

the written reports, and the direct expressions of the spoken interviews. Nevertheless, if

you look at why these seven people did the pilgrimage, you can say that there was no

clearly defined reason for going; it wasn’t out of religious faith, nor was it a trip to seek

out the truth. If you consider the positions taken up with regard to religious faith—e.g. ‘I

read the Prajna-paramita-sutra, but I am not a student of Buddhism;’ ‘I am not a

particularly devoted Buddhist or Shintō believer although I feel reverence for gods and

Buddha’,—then the views expressed make it evident that they neither speak of an intense

belief in Shintō or Buddhism, nor of particular interest in Kōbō Daishi.

    Rather, reference was made to ‘refreshing life’ and ‘challenge to the spirit’.2 Also,

there is emphasis on self-searching, implying also self-training. In a newspaper interview

Mr A said that while he did not really want to express his feelings in one word, he would

nevertheless try to sum it up as ‘I went on the pilgrimage in order to heal myself, or for

self-searching’.

    Once the pilgrims have commenced walking, they will keep on walking in sun or rain.

Of course, there is always the possibility of something unexpected happening; maybe you

stop to enjoy someone’s hospitality, or you get scared by a poisonous snake, or—of

course—you begin to suffer from aching legs.

    Also, throughout the journey you may feel physiological desires, which can be a more

serious problem. In the book known as the Walking Pilgrims’ Bible (Two Walking

Pilgrims Together on the Shikoku Henro Pilgrimage, edited by the Association for the

Protection of the Henro Roads), Miyazaki Kenju, a representative, declared that ‘the

three most important things during the pilgrimage are sleeping, eating and going to the

toilet’.

    Being a walking pilgrim means being very closely connected to physical things, and

leg pains are one example of this. This is the exact opposite of religion as faith that

comprehends religion as an inner belief, or a dogma. According to Morinis (1992), an

anthropologist doing research on Indian pilgrimages, what matters on a pilgrimage is not

mental curiosity, but the experience itself. He suggests that whatever happens during a

pilgrimage has individual, personal and sensual importance. He also states that what

pilgrims are doing is specifically ‘seeing, hearing, feeling and tasting’ (Morinis 1992:9–

21). The connection between pilgrimage and healing that is made by some may have

some relation to this. Yumiyama explains healing in the following way: ‘Healing is the

                        Current increase in walking pilgrims     67

act of “feeling” and “sensing;” by directly appealing to the body and the senses, the body

and the mind, joined as one, recover’ (1996:141–62).

   Among the examples we have looked at, not one refers to religious faith as a motive

for performing the pilgrimage. I am not assuming here that all walking pilgrims have the

same motives. Some people complete the pilgrimage simply by walking peacefully.

However, it is difficult to assume that many of the people who walk the Shikoku henro

pilgrimage these days do so out of a deep-rooted belief in Kōbō Daishi, who might cure

Hansen’s disease or perform a miracle.

            How do people feel after completing a ‘walking pilgrimage?’

If you read the notes of those who have completed their pilgrimage carefully, and listen

hard to their experiences, it is possible to note quite a few statements that show you

cannot simply say they are not religious, or that they have not had any religious

experience. For example:

1. Mr/Ms A (early morning arrival at a temple, beginning the sutra chanting):

       There is always someone around, so my voice becomes quiet naturally. I’m shy,

       so my chanting gets faster and faster. Today I was alone, so I could chant slowly

       and loudly. Within one or two minutes I got the feeling of completely sinking into

       a different world. The chirping of the cicadas in the trees around me is more

       intense. I feel as though I was the only one existing in this world. I feel as though

       I am at the centre of the universe. I wonder if this is what Mr. K felt when he

       experienced ki (spiritual energy).

2. Mr/Ms B:

       Walking everyday for more than eight hours and carrying a pack on my back that

       weighs quite a lot, I gradually became aware of what is really important in my

       life. I am consistent with nature; rain, wind, sunshine, heat, cold. Accepting things

       as they are is the best way. Once you put your own desires aside you can really

       live comfortably; it’s as comfortable as if you’ve put your pack down. I can eat. I

       can have a bath. I can go to sleep on a futon bed under the covers; I often wonder

       if I need anything more than this. There is so much to be thankful for; every day I

       vigorously walk along. I have a wonderful time meeting and talking to people.

       The flowers, the birds, the plants and the trees, all let us have an enjoyable

       experience. You realise that there is no superior or inferior living being on the

       earth. It’s not only in my imagination, every tiny insect and every weed really has

       a life. I believe that everything is equal. I am conscious now that putting aside

       personal desires, being kind to everything and living with appreciation is

       important for living well.

3. Mr/Ms C:

       When I arrived at the last temple, Ōkuboji, and reported to Kōbō Daishi that I had

       completed the pilgrimage, I started a lamentation; I had a moment of ‘religious

       ecstasy,’ a moment of extreme bliss. Once I got home, I took my time reading

       through Buddhist books. In them I read that by the end of a pilgrimage a pilgrim

                      Pilgrimages and spiritual quests in Japan    68

       ‘becomes a Buddha with one’s body and is reborn.’ After the experience I had, I

       have to agree with that, as this is exactly what I experienced.

4. Mr/Ms D:

       For me every single thing that happened in Shikoku was significant, every good

       thing and every bad thing, everything had meaning. What I mean is that, even if I

       don’t know the meaning for every single thing that happened, at some point in my

       life there will be a moment when I realise the meaning of it, or when it becomes a

       guide mark and helps me solve my problems. I have come to think that the most

       important things that will enable me to have a truly happy life are that I value the

       connections made with the people I met on the pilgrimage, and that I can

       reciprocate emotions to those people who held out their hands to me. I believe

       that I was called to Shikoku and made to walk.

5. Mr/Ms E:

       I have gained the knowledge that ‘I am not living, but rather that I am being

       allowed to live’ I have to make special mention of this subject. As soon as I was

       certain that the eighty-eighth temple, Ōkuboji, was getting closer, my eyes

       overflowed with tears, and there was nothing I could do to stop them. I walked

       along without thinking, repeating ‘thank you, thank you’ over and over, waving

       clenched fists with huge tears running down my cheeks.

6. Mr/Ms F:

       Before I went on the pilgrimage I thought ‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if my mind

       could be clean?’ It’s hard to say whether or not my mind has been purified, but I

       know now, through the hospitality I received, that there are some kind people in

       this world. I never realised that there were people who were this kind. There was

       a person who helped me when I got lost at Unpenji Temple. Then there was

       another person who gave me a packed lunch… A religious belief has bloomed in

       my heart. If you believe, then Kōbō Daishi will watch over you, and reach out a

       hand to rescue you. Even when I encountered something dangerous, I was able to

       escape, I believe it was thanks to Kōbō Daishi.

7. Mr/Ms G:

       The Shikoku pilgrimage is a place for people’s rebirth… I realised that there is

       very little that you need in life. I didn’t need any extras when I was walking. I

       only had the bare minimum. I only had what I needed for that one day of walking.

       I now know what is really important for life… You place yourself in the lowest

       social stratum. If I were working in a personnel department of a company, I

       would definitely choose the Shikoku henro pilgrimage as the place for training

       employees. I would give them 50,000 or 100,000 yen and tell them to complete

       the Shikoku henro pilgrimage with this much money… I learned to see things

       from a different viewpoint than before… I reflect on myself, I reorganise my

       values… The Shikoku henro pilgrimage isn’t a simple thing to do. But, if you

       really try, you can do it. This is true of a company, also.

Some of the above statements are extremely sensitive, being based on quite dramatic

experiences. Others are reasonable, and you may call them a sort of enlightenment.

However, it is a characteristic also of the ‘enlightenment’ style, that it is based on one’s

                        Current increase in walking pilgrims      69

experience as a walking pilgrim, and not on intellectual understanding through ideas or

words.

    The statements refer, in effect, to what we usually call a religious experience: “I get

the feeling I am sinking into a completely different world”; “I feel as though I am at the

centre of the universe”; ‘Set aside personal desires, be kind to everything and live with

appreciation”; “A moment of ‘religious ecstasy,’ a moment of extreme bliss”; “Becoming

a Buddha with one’s body”; “Being reborn”; “I was called to Shikoku, and I was made to

walk”; “I have gained the knowledge that I am not living, but I am being allowed to live”;

“If you believe, then Kōbō Daishi will watch over you, and reach out a hand to rescue

you”; “I realised that there is very little that you need in life”.

    It is noticeable that all these expressions, not to mention those that explicitly refer to

Buddhism, do not differ much from those seen in the sayings and confessions of true

Buddhist believers. I wish to point out, however, that these pilgrims do not perceive their

experiences to be ‘religious experiences’. A further characteristic is that hardly any

religious professionals, like Buddhist priests, mediate between the experiences and

feelings that the pilgrims have.

                        Are ‘walking pilgrims’ religious or not?

Nowadays the relationship between religion and society is complex. If you look at the

rising prominence of the Islamic religion, or the strong links between racism and religion,

you will see that religion still has a lot of power. However, in Japan, according to the

results of a survey, the percentage of people who believe in religion is in steady decline.

Nevertheless, in national elections the number of ‘religious’ votes is worth taking note of.

    It is certain that the number of pilgrims who mention (traditional) ‘faith’ as their

motive is decreasing. Also, people who do the pilgrimage in a large group are on the

decrease. Though the pilgrims choose to dress themselves completely in white, and

steadfastly walk the pilgrimage, if you look at these people from a traditional standpoint,

they really aren’t acting like pilgrims. For one thing, it costs much less to do pilgrimages

by car. However even in the case of walking pilgrims it is quite rare that they walk from

their own homes to Shikoku and back; they use public transportation at least part of the

way.

    Are these people not religious? Many of them say that their motive for doing the

pilgrimage is not religious. That may be so, but if you look at some of their experiences,

are these not ‘religious’? Having the feeling of being in a different world, feeling oneself

in the centre of the universe, setting aside personal desires etc., these are all religious

sentiments, but at the same time it is hard to assert that they are only experienced in the

religious world. In this era of change, there is no need to contain something ‘religious’

only within the confines of the concept of ‘religion’.

    In this global era, politics, economics and culture are no longer captured in the

conventional standards. The pilgrims, who have started to walk in Shikoku again, are part

of a new wave. Are they raising the curtain on a new age of the Shikoku henro

pilgrimage?

                       Pilgrimages and spiritual quests in Japan        70

                                              Notes

   1 B.Aziz (1987), who is engaged in a research on pilgrimage in South Asia, points out that, even

      when people are doing pilgrimage in a family or a small group, each person’s experience is

      highly individual and often differs from person to person.

   2 According to B.Aziz (1987), the factor of ‘adventure’ can be frequently noted among the

      pilgrims in India and Nepal.

                                          References

Aziz, B. (1987) ‘Personal dimensions of the sacred journey: what pilgrims say’, Religious Studies

   23, 247–61.

Kobayashi, A. (1990) Teinen kara wa dōgyō ninin [Going on a Pilgrimage as ‘Two Fellow

   Pilgrims’ After Retirement], Tokyo: P.H.P. Research Institute.

Morinis, A. (ed.) (1992) Sacred Journey: The Anthropology of Pilgrimage, Wesport, Conn.,

   Greenwood Press.

Nakamura I. (1987) Nihonjin no junrei—‘aruku’ koto ni yoru metsuzai to ‘jōka’ [Japanese

   pilgrimages—the destruction of sin and purification through ‘walking’], Christian Culture

   Research Institute of Seishin Women’s College (ed.) Junrei to bunmei [Pilgrimage and

   Civilization], Tokyo: Shunjūsha, pp. 23–54.

Sōdai Michi Kūkan Kenkyūkai (1997) Shikoku henro to henrodō ni kansuru ishiki chōsa [Opinion

   Survey of Shikoku Henro Pilgrimage and Its Road], Tokyo, Sōdai Shakaigaku Kyōshitsu.

Yumiyama, T. (1996) Nihon ni okeru healing boom no tenkai [The development of the healing

   boom in Japan], Shūkyō Kenkyū 308, 141–62.

                              8

             New forms of pilgrimage in Japanese

                           society

                               Maria Rodríguez del Alisal

                                      Introduction

As the previous chapters have made clear, there is a long tradition of pilgrimage in Japan.

As in other parts of the world, pilgrimages were not always embarked on only for

religious reasons, but were also a means of getting in touch with new places, new people

and new ways of life. Nowadays as well, when visiting a shrine or temple during a

pilgrimage, the religious objective is many times only a pretext for other, more ‘secular’

reasons. Modernity has brought a more secular approach to religious activities. Here I

shall analyse forms of pilgrimage that are becoming more and more widespread in Japan,

where old sites and traditional motivations appear to be as popular as in the past.

    In this paper I have included some of the data I collected when doing field-work in

autumn 1994, in spring 1995 and in summer 1999 in the Osaka and Wakayama areas,

travelling from Ikoma in the Kinki region down to the south to the Kii peninsula and the

Kumano region. I am interested not only in describing and analyzing new places and new

pilgrimages, but also in the new forms which have developed in traditional and well-

known pilgrimages as in the case of Kumano in Wakayama prefecture.

                                Tourism and pilgrimage

The development of tourist itineraries and new routes of transportation have been

important for the spread of new pilgrimage forms and sites that were unknown in the

past. Through tourism, people come to know the traditions and specific customs of places

other than their own. Socially, it is obvious that tourism has always been closely related

to the exchange, development and production of cultural practices. Seemingly, religious

institutions and religious worship have been important precursors to tourism. In this sense

the Edo period in Japan was an epoch where travelling attained a new dimension, thanks

to the development of an infrastructure of roads. This fact led to the spread of new forms

of technology, and to the exchange of local traditions and culture among the Japanese

population. On the one hand, the sankinkōtai system (alternate attendance)1 was

instrumental in the increase of the number of travel facilities such as inns, or resting

places that offered meals and drinks. On the other hand, the authorities forbade travel by

horse- or animal-drawn carriages. The populace had no recourse other than to travel on

foot, but this, instead of preventing travel, was one of the factors that led to the

popularization of travel in Japan. It is calculated that in the Genroku era (1688–1704),

                      Pilgrimages and spiritual quests in Japan    72

more than one million Japanese travelled every year on the Tōkai road. And, finally,

since the government exercised a rigid control over the movement of people, allowing

travel exclusively for religious worship or for curing illnesses at hot springs, people had

to give these as reasons in order to be able to temporarily leave their homes.

   Permission to travel in order to visit a famous place of worship was even more easily

given if a person was travelling with a group. Therefore whole communities, such as

hamlets, or groups of people from the same locality, commonly travelled together under

the leadership of an o-shi (literally: ‘revered master’). These o-shi, who originally were

often low-ranking Buddhist priests, can be thought of as the ancestors of modern tour

guides. They provided various services: finding other, more specialized guides along the

road; making reservations for meals and lodging; providing all kinds of connections with

the different temples along the way, as well as with the main temple or sanctuary to be

visited; and organizing ludic activities. There are various records that describe the

characteristics of travel and reveal the real purposes of travelling, often concealed under

the guise of worship. In the book Kyōkun Manbyō Kaishun (Teachings for the Recovery

from All Kind of Illnesses, 1771), it is reported that many people used to travel officially

in order to have an ailment cured at a hot spring, but in fact the search for pleasure was

their actual reason. In an encyclopaedic book published by Kitamura Intei in 1830

entitled Kiyūshōran (A Catalogue of Pleasure Seeking; cf. Ishimori 1989), the author

comments on the nominal purpose of travel being worship, when it really was the

enjoyment of going out and about.

   Institutionally, the development of the jidan seido was relevant for later tourist travel

in Japan. This was an institution that placed the population under the control of a temple,

the parishioners (danka) of a specific temple thus having a permanent ‘contract’ with a

priest, who was also in charge of organizing visits to places of worship. Like the more

freelance guides described above, the priest had to make all the arrangements for the tour:

from organizing lodging and meals, to participating in ludic activities such as attending

performances, shopping and even visiting brothels. In other words, in Japan religious

worship, hot springs, and pleasure seeking have always been closely connected.

                                New forms of pilgrimage

Maintaining ‘tradition’ is an important element in modern forms of pilgrimage, for even

new forms, while having different elements than those in the past, remain closely related

to the concepts of the traditional ones. For example, from the Edo period onwards it was

popular to take soil from famous pilgrimage places in order to build a miniature

pilgrimage site that was a tiny reproduction of the original. Thus pilgrimages such as the

circuit of Shikoku (Shikoku henro) and the circuit of western Japan (Saikoku Junrei)

were the first to be reproduced in eastern Japan. The reason for these replicas was that not

everybody could go to visit the sacred sites, so priests—or even ordinary individuals—

would decide to create these abbreviated pilgrimages nearer to home. With time, this type

of pilgrimage spread, mainly in eastern Japan.

    In Japan, as in Europe, railways played an important role in developing new areas for

tourism. In this manner, pilgrimages in Japan, which had developed thanks to good roads

in the Edo period, attained a new popularity during the Meiji period. During this period, a

                   New forms of pilgrimage in Japanese society      73

large railway system was established. This produced a high number of pilgrims visiting

famous temples and shrines, and tourists visiting mainly hot springs. Frequently, the

pilgrim-tourists or tourist-pilgrims were combining both spa visits and worship. In 1889,

the Sangū Railway Company was founded, to serve as a link with the Ise Shrine. The

railway from Kamakura to Enoshima was established in 1910. In western Japan, the

Hanshin Electric Railway Company, the Kintetsu Railway Company and the Nankai

Railway Company were crucial in the increase of short visits to famous pilgrim sites and

to special beautiful landscapes.

                Tradition and modernity in the Japanese pilgrimages

Almost pure religious pilgrimages co-exist with not-so-serious religious pilgrimages,

where tourism may be the primary factor for undertaking the journey. As already noted,

even in the past many pilgrimages went more for pleasure-seeking than for worship, and

this is still true today. It is also relevant to take into account the changes in Japanese

society in order to understand the plans and motivations of people visiting famous

pilgrimages sites. The development of transport facilities, described above, in

combination with new religious practices, has brought forth new forms of pilgrimage:

more sites are accessible to larger numbers of visitors because of modern transport. Bus

companies, travel agencies and railway companies contribute a great deal to links

between popular religious pilgrimages and the beautiful landscapes that surround them.

Tourist companies even direct pilgrims to new pilgrimage sites. Four examples will show

the importance of these secular and economic institutions in pilgrimage today: a)

Shigisan; b) a place known as ‘Shūkyō Lando’ (Religion Land), near Sakakibara Spa; c)

Tennōji in Osaka and d) Kumano.

a) Shigisan

The temple of the Shigisan area—Chōgosonshiji—is located on the slopes of the Ikoma

Mountains near Osaka. It always was a famous place for worship, becoming even more

famous after the establishment of new lines, one in 1915 and another in 1930, by the

Kintetsu Railway. Later, a toll road linking the temple with an amusement park was built,

and dotted with lookouts in order for travellers to view the scenery from the top of the

Ikoma range. At the entrance to Shigisan there is a large map showing the different sites

visitors can see, because at Shigisan there are not only places of worship, but also hotels

providing lodging, and a hot spring. Once inside the grounds of the temple, the big stone

figure of a tiger greets the visitor. Here and there are found also small figurines of the

tiger that is the mamori kami or kami sama no o-tsukai (guardian deity) of the temple. As

the pamphlet about the history of Shigisan explains, Prince Shōtoku Taishi (574–622 CE)

visited this place once and the deity Bishamon-ten appeared in front of him. The Prince

took the visitation as a good omen, deciding that Bishamon-ten was his guardian deity.

Thus he built a temple in honour of Bishamon-ten, and this was Shigisan.

   Bishamon-ten (Sanskrit, Vaisravana: ‘the one who listens widely’) is one of the Seven

Gods of Good Fortune and Happiness. Under the name of Tamon-ten, he is also one of

the Four Guardian Gods of Heaven (Shitennō): the god who protects the North Gate of

Heaven. He is, at the same time, the Tiger in the 12 signs of the Chinese Zodiac and is

                     Pilgrimages and spiritual quests in Japan   74

invoked for luck in business and commercial ventures, as well as for good fortune in this-

worldly affairs. This could be the reason why so many offerings are made at Shigisan on

the part of companies and individual businessmen.

    Scattered throughout the wide extension around the main building, there are some

small sanctuaries offering charms (omamori) and talismans for sale. On top of one of the

hills is a small-size reproduction of the 88 Holy Places of the Shikoku pilgrimage.

Visitors thus have the opportunity to make a mini-pilgrimage of this great circuit.

b) Shūkyō Lando

Near Sakakibara Spa, and just off the road leading to it, is the place known as Shūkyō

Lando (Religion Land). A wealthy man, who probably started it as a business rather than

for religious purposes, established the place. Shūkyō Lando benefits from the tourist

buses crowded with people who go there after staying at the spa. Usually, travel agencies

include a visit to Shūkyō Lando on the way back from the hot springs. In the resort’s

shops it is possible to buy plenty of souvenirs and lucky charms. Next to the main

entrance, there is a ‘Louvre Sculpture Museum’, with some reproductions of works that

are found at the Louvre such as the Venus de Milo and the Winged Victory from

Samotracia. Surprisingly, there is also a reproduction of the Statue of Liberty. Once past

the entrance, there is a group of maneki neko (welcoming cats). These small cat figures,

with an upright paw inviting customers in, are often displayed in restaurants and shops in

Japan, as it is said that they bring good luck in commerce. Certainly, not only shop

owners and people dedicated to commercial activities visit this place, but also any person

who hopes for a good economic opportunity.

   Not far from where these maneki neko stand, there is another group of figures

representing musician frogs. These frogs are about 70 cm tall, and each of them is

playing a musical instrument. Frogs are known in Japan for bringing back good luck,

bringing back lost things and people, and helping people to come back safely, because the

sound of the word kaeru (frog) is identical to kaeru (to return), to kaeru (to change) and

to kaeru (being able to buy).2 Here is a list of some of the things that these frogs can

bring back to people or do for them:

          takara kaeru (jewels and precious things are returned)

          buji kaeru (come back safely)

          okane kaeru (money will come back to us)

          nandemo kaeru (we will be able to buy anything we want)

          aijō kaeru (love comes back, is returned)

          kibō kaeru (our hopes are fulfilled)

          byōki kaeru (change sickness into good health)

          keiki kaeru (to change economic conditions)

          katsu kaeru (vitality comes back)

In this site there are also sculptures dedicated to the Seven Gods of Fortune, among them

Ebisu, the god of health and fortune for family businesses, and Daikoku, the god of

harvest and good fortune. Next comes a statue of Fudō Myōō, the god of esoteric

wisdom, of Kannon, the god or goddess of mercy, and of Yakushi Nyorai, the medicine

deity. A large sculpture of a hand is on one side of the grounds and a written notice

                    New forms of pilgrimage in Japanese society      75

advises how to proceed: Breathe in slowly and deeply, then, while exhaling touch the

sculpture, caressing it; repeat three times.

    The real highlights of Shūkyō Lando are the Kannon Reisen, a fountain dedicated to

Kannon with waters said to promote longevity, and a mini-version of the 88 Holy Places

of the Shikoku henro pilgrimage, consisting of soil from each of the 88 sites placed

beneath special strong glass covers. When people step over these, in effect they can

consider having visited the real places. The entire visit here can last for just 20 minutes.

    Many elderly people coming to Shūkyō Lando are on their way back from a short stay

at the spa of Sakakibara Onsen. The visit to Shūkyō Lando is more touristic than

religious, and people coming here are happy to have the opportunity of worshipping after

having enjoyed the spa. In the visits I made to Shūkyō Lando, apart from tour groups, I

saw also individual people, aged couples, or small groups of men and/or women.

c) Tennōji

In the southern part of Osaka city, and not far from Osaka castle, is Tennōji. This temple

is one of the most traditional and popular temples in the city. It is dedicated to the Four

Guardian Gods of Heaven: Jikoku-ten (Guardian of the East), Zōchō-ten (Guardian of the

South), Kōmoku-ten (Guardian of the West), Tamon-ten (also called Bishamon-ten,

Guardian of the North). In the grounds of the Tennōji, which is also a departure point for

the famous henro pilgrimage to the 88 Holy Places in Shikoku, there is a mini-version of

just these 88 sites.

    People visiting the Tennōji and doing the small-scale reproduction of the Shikoku

pilgrimage are mainly residents of Osaka city as well as people coming from areas

nearby. I asked several, mainly elderly people, but also some younger persons whom I

met at the Tennōji, the reason why they were doing the compact pilgrimage. They

answered that they would like to undertake the whole, real pilgrimage in Shikoku but

were unable to do so. Younger people said they would go to Shikoku in the future, and

older people said that they would go if they could, but at the moment they were not sure

if they would be able to make the whole pilgrimage.

d) Kumano

Kumano, or Kumano Sanzan (The Three Sacred Districts of Kumano: Hongū, the Main

Shrine, and the shrines Shingū Hayatama Jinja and Nachi Jinja), refers to one of the most

traditional and emblematic pilgrimage routes of old Japan. It is said that Izanagi, one of

the two deities who created the Japanese Islands, is buried next to the great waterfall of

Nachi. Kumano became a famous place of religious worship in the Heian period (794–

1192 CE), as the abdicated (cloistered) emperors favoured Kumano with their visits. The

emperors Shirakawa (Emperor 1072–1086, cloistered 1086–1129), Toba (Emperor 1107–

1123, cloistered 1129–1156), Go-Shirakawa (Emperor 1155–1158, cloistered 1158–

1179/81–1192) and Go-Toba (Emperor 1183–1198, cloistered 1198–1221) made a total

of 97 visits (once a year, approximately) from Kyoto to Kumano, covering a total of 600

km. These trips lasted for a whole month, and more than 1000 people journeyed as

imperial attendants.

   In the Kamakura period (1192–1333), after the establishment of the Shogunate at

Kamakura, the samurai started visiting Kumano, also coming from far away eastern

Japan. However it was in the Muromachi period (1336–1573), when commoners in large

                      Pilgrimages and spiritual quests in Japan    76

numbers began to visit Kumano and the sites became accessible for regular people. In the

Azuchi-Momoyama period (1568–1602) Kumano went into decline and was overtaken

by other places of pilgrimage and worship, such as Kōyasan, the 33 Sacred Sites

dedicated to Kannon in western Japan (Saikoku), and the 88 Holy Places of Shikoku.

    At the time when the cloistered emperors made almost annual visits to Kumano,

powerful Buddhist monasteries supported the state by contributing moral and religious

legitimacy to the emperor’s power, and it is said that their political influence was high.

Later on, yamabushi (itinerant mountain ascetics) and bikuni (Buddhist nuns) played an

important role in the popularization of Kumano as a widely known centre of religious

worship. Both the yamabushi and the bikuni would explain the history and the

characteristics of Kumano using simple visual aids, and they sold charms and amulets

from the sanctuaries.

    The Kumano pilgrimage has, moreover, since ancient times been connected with ideas

about life after death. There are records of many people who went to Kumano in

anticipation of their death, as a penitence for their sins, and also when they had suffered

disasters or tragedies in their lives.

    Until recently, the journey to Kumano was an experience full of danger and hardship,

because of the difficulties in reaching the sacred sites. Nowadays, Kumano is

experiencing a ‘revival’, thanks to the improvement of access roads and other good

transport facilities. The great numbers of festivals as well as cultural and recreational

events in the Prefecture of Wakayama have also led to an increase in the numbers of

visitors. Through the pamphlets advertising Kumano we know that it is possible to reach

it from the new Kansai Airport, or by train to Shingū and then by bus to Hongū and

Nachi. This allows a visitor to make a circuit tour of the sacred sites as well as Shirahama

Spa in one day.

    For some of the people visiting Kumano today, religious worship is still a central

element. For others, seeing the landscape, walking across the mountain roads and having

a new experience are important. Groups of yamabushi walk the whole way from

Ōminesan (Mount Ōmine) to Kumano for the mine iri (entering/climbing the mountain

for spiritual training) several times a year. However, nowadays pilgrims are people living

mainly in big cities, and not especially religiously minded. Their main objectives are to

enjoy the landscape and nature, to know about tradition and history, to do some physical

exercise, and to meet other people. In general, people go in groups, escorted by a

professional guide. Sometimes not only a guide, but also an expert in history and religion

goes with the group in order to give accurate information, as many visitors to Kumano

are mainly interested in learning about the history of Japan. For these people, a trip to

Kumano can be a good occasion for getting in touch with their ancestral past and

becoming aware of their Japanese identity.

    Nowadays, rural tourism in Japan is being boosted by local governments. That is why

they publish elaborate tourists’ brochures with details about visits to historical sites in

their area. Where pilgrimage routes exist, these are emphasized in an appropriate way

with details about all the benefits associated with that pilgrimage. Moreover, aspects

related to the enjoyment of the landscape in the course of the four seasons are described

for particular places. For those interested in walking, there is also information about the

different paths, their difficulty, and any other useful details. Therefore, today a

pilgrimage like that to Kumano might be a good experience for those interested in

                    New forms of pilgrimage in Japanese society      77

history, for those who only want to contemplate the landscape, for those who like to

walk, and even for those who just wish to join a group for which fun activities are

organized.

    As an example of this last type the organized journeys following the so-called Old

Pilgrimage Route of Kumano (Kumano Kodō) should be mentioned. As the tourist

brochures published by the Prefecture of Wakayama say, this route can be covered in five

stages. The starting point is in Takijiri Ōji, situated in the city of Nakahechi. Following

part of what, in the past, was the old road to Kumano, one arrives at the Main Shrine of

Kumano at Hongū. In total, 40 km are covered. During the trip different activities are

organized: explanations of the history of the Old Kumano Route; didactic contests;

broadcasts in FM; and, along the way, typical products of each area are exhibited.

Dramas related to Kumano, its history, and to the ecology of the forests and mountains of

the region are also put on.

    Apart from the increasing interest in the Old Kumano Route, the event recalling the

old pilgrimage of the emperors and noblemen to Kumano has become popular. It is held

on the fourth Sunday of October. All the participating pilgrims, who walk about 1.5 km,

are dressed in the clothing of Heian period courtiers. The event starts at 10 am in the city

at Nachi, the departure being from a gift shop called Nebokedo. Upon entering

Daimonzaka incline, the pilgrims go up the old stone path, along the way visiting the

shrine of Nachi. Next, they offer prayers in front of the three-storied pagoda of Seigantoji

temple and see the daigoma (fire) ceremony, done in the yamabushi style. Finally, as one

of several ludic elements, there is a taste-testing of tuna.

    The revival of the Old Pilgrimage Route of Kumano is linked to the ‘Movement to

revive rural areas’ (muraokoshi), which Japan has been promoting since the 1960s. This

kind of initiative is not only found in Japan, but has parallels in different parts of the

world and is also related to other back-to-nature movements such as organic farming,

living in agrarian communes, as well as the revival of awareness of historically rooted

national identity,3 whatever the country might be. In fact, the muraokoshi movement in

Japan has truly become a strategy for revitalizing areas faced with depopulation.

    It is important to point out the positive aspects these initiatives have. They allow

different communities to keep in contact with each other, to use more natural ways of

land cultivation, and also to recover traditions in danger of dying out, including those of

autochthonous products which, due to a lack of diffusion, had been almost forgotten.

    The recent popularity of the Old Pilgrimage Route to Kumano could also be seen from

the perspective of the ‘Exotic Japan’ campaign (cf. Ivy 1995:48), attracting modern

pilgrims amongst people who live in the big cities. To quote Okpyo Moon (1997:233), if

‘nature has become something to be acquired by the people from the big cities’, then

traditional pilgrimage sites such as Kumano are becoming the ‘internal exotic Japan’ for

city dwellers.

                                 Kumano and Santiago

In May 1997, the prefecture of Wakayama and the Galician Community signed an

agreement by which the Road to Santiago and the Pilgrimage Route of Kumano were

officially twinned as pilgrimage itineraries. From that date, there have been several visits

                      Pilgrimages and spiritual quests in Japan      78

by monks and various Buddhist institutions to Santiago de Compostela. Wakayama

Prefecture has also organized groups of youngsters, ecological associations and rambling

clubs to make pilgrimages or visits to Santiago de Compostela. On the other hand, the

city of Santiago organized in May 1999 a very detailed photographic exhibition in the

pilgrimage museum about the Kumano itinerary.

   However, I have noticed that until now, contacts between the authorities of the

Cathedral of Santiago and the religious authorities in Kumano have been almost non-

existent. The agreement between Santiago de Compostela and Kumano was signed, on

the Spanish side, by the President of the Community of Galicia, Mr Manuel Fraga, but

nowhere on the document does the sign or seal of the Cathedral or any catholic authority

appear. This may be due to the fact that the Cathedral of Santiago and its authorities need

more time to decide upon how to look at the Kumano pilgrimage.

   On the part of Kumano, however, as is usual in Japan, the authorities seem to have a

very hospitable attitude towards the relationship. In fact, several monks have already

completed the Road to Santiago, and every year more and more Japanese people travel

the whole way to Santiago following the French Road from Roncesvalles and Somport in

the Pyrenees. The total of pilgrims from Japan to Santiago de Compostela (counting just

those who walked more than 100 km) was almost 150 in the year 2003, according to the

Oficina del Peregrino in Santiago.

   The partnership between a Buddhist/Shintō pilgrimage like Kumano, and a Catholic

pilgrimage like that to Santiago, rooted in the European religious tradition, is very

meaningful. Even more important is the way in which, from now on, the relationship

between these two centres of pilgrimage will be deepened, and the process of assimilating

a foreign religion both by Buddhist and Catholic authorities and their followers will take

place.

                                            Notes

   1 Each lord was required to spend every other year in Edo.

   2 See also del Alisal (1984).

   3 For Japan, see: Fukuoka (1983, 1987), Takahashi (1984) and Watanabe (1989).

                                       Bibliography

del Alisal, M. (1984) ‘Yoshino Yama no kaero Tobi’ [The soltist festival in Nara Prefecture],

   Mikayo, H (ed.) Yama no Matsuri Geino [Japanese Mountain Festivals and their staging],

   Tokyo: Hirakawa.

Aoki, Tamotsu (1983) Gendai junrei to nihon bunka no shinsō [Modern pilgrimages and the deep

   structure of Japanese culture] V.Turner and M.Yamaguchi (eds) Misemono no jinruigaku [The

   Anthropology of Exhibitions], Tokyo: Sanseidō, pp. 66–113.

Bhardwaj, Surinder M. (1973) Hindu Places of Pilgrimage in India: A Study in Cultural

   Geography, Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press.

Eade, John and Michael J.Sallnow (1991) Contesting the Sacred: The Anthropology of Christian

   Pilgrimage, London: Routledge.

Fukuoka, Masanobu (1983) Wara ippon no kakumei [One Straw’s Revolt], Tokyo: Shunjūsha.

Fukuoka, Masanobu (1987) The road back to nature: regaining the paradise lost, Frederic

   P.Metreaud (trans.), Tokyo: Japan Publishers.

                     New forms of pilgrimage in Japanese society         79

Geary, Patrick (1986) ‘Sacred commodities: the circulation of medieval relics’, Arjun Appadurai

   (ed.) The Social Life of Things: Commodities in Cultural Perspective, Cambridge: Cambridge

   University Press, pp. 164–94.

Gorai, Shigeru (1967) Kumano mōde: Sanzan shinkō to bunka [The Pilgrimage to Kumano: Beliefs

   and Culture of the Three Sacred Districts of Kumano], Kyoto: Tankōsha.

Graburn, Nelson (1983) ‘Anthropology of tourism’, Annals of Tourism Research, 10(1), 9–33.

Hobsbawn, Eric and Terence Ranger (eds) (1983) The Invention of Tradition, Cambridge:

   Cambridge University Press.

Hoshino, Eiki (1987) ‘Buddhist pilgrimage in east Asia’, Encyclopedia of Religion 11, 349–51.

Hoshino, Eiki (1997) ‘Pilgrimage and peregrination, contextualizing the Saikoku Junrei and the

   Shikoku Henro’, Japanese Journal of Religious Studies, 24, 271–97.

Ishimori, Shūzō (1989) ‘The popularization and commercialization of tourism in early modern

   Japan’, T.Umesao, M.Fruin and N.Hata (eds) Japanese Civilization in the Modern World IV:

   Economic Institutions (Senri, Ethnological Studies No. 26), Osaka: National Museum of

   Ethnology, pp. 179–94.

Ivy, Marilyn (1995) Discourses of the Vanishing: Modernity, Phantasm, Japan, Chicago: The

   University of Chicago Press.

Kornicki, Peter and I.J.McMullen (1996) ‘Rethinking Japanese folk religion: A study of Kumano

   Shugen’, in P.Kornicki and I.J.McMullen (eds) Religion in Japan: Arrows to Heaven and Earth,

   Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 120–34.

Leed, Eric (1991) The Mind of the Traveller, New York: Basic Books.

Miyake, Hitoshi (1974) Nihon shukyō no kōzō [The Structure of Japanese Religion], Tokyo: Keiō

   Tsūshin.

Miyake, Hitoshi (1984) Yama no matsuri to geinō [Mountain Festivals and Performing Arts],

   Tokyo: Hirakawa Shuppan.

Moon, Okpyo (1997) ‘Marketing nature in rural Japan’, Pamela Asquith and Arne Kalland (eds)

   Japanese Images of Nature. Cultural Perspectives, London: Curzon, pp. 221–35.

Morinis, Alan (1984) Pilgrimage in the Hindu Tradition: A Case Study of West Bengal, New Delhi:

   Oxford University Press.

Reader, Ian and Paul Swanson (1997) ‘Pilgrimage in Japan’, Japanese Journal of Religious Studies,

   24, 225–70.

Takahaski, Yoshio (1984) Inakagurashi no tankyū [Research into Rural Lives], Tokyo: Shōshisha.

Turner, Harold (1979) From Temple to Meeting House: The Phenomenology and Theology of

   Places of Worship, The Hague: Mouton.

Turner, Victor and Edith Turner (1978) Image and Pilgrimage in Christian Culture:

   Anthropological Perspectives, Oxford: Basil Blackwell.

Vlastos, Stefan (ed.) (1998) Mirror of Modernity: Invented Traditions of Modern Japan, Berkeley

   and Los Angeles: The University of California Press.

Watanabe, Shōichi (1989) The Peasant Soul of Japan, London: McMillan.

                                 9   Old gods, new pilgrimages?  A whistle stop tour of Japanese international theme parks

                                        Joy Hendry

                                       Introduction

It is now rather well-known that Japan boasts an abundance of parks that depict foreign

countries in various forms. Huis ten Bosch (formerly, Oranda-mura [Holland Village])

near Nagasaki was probably the first one to follow Tokyo Disneyland’s depiction of

American playtime, and has certainly been amongst the most popular, but there have

been many others. At the height of their popularity, they included Canadian World, the

Danish Nixe Marine Park and Glücks Königreich in Hokkaido, Tazawako Swiss Village

in Akita-ken, Parque España in Ise-shima and a Russian village in Niigata-ken. Several

other parks combined representations of a number of different countries or cultures,

including Shuzenji Niji no Sato, which linked Britain, Canada and Japan; Reoma World,

which recreated an Oriental Trip and The Little World, also known as Museum of Man,

which represents a multitude of different cultural forms.

    My interest in these and other ‘representations’ of foreign countries was aroused

during a study of Japanese gardens (see Hendry 1997), where reconstructions of the

‘natural’ world were interpreted as ways of ‘taming’ or ‘wrapping’ the wild version, very

often regarded as dangerous because of the likelihood of uncontrolled encounters with the

supernatural. The earlier discussion of the association between foreigners and wandering

gods (e.g. Yoshida 1981) suggested a parallel between gardens and these parks, usually

called teema paaku (Theme parks/theme parks), since they allow their predominantly

Japanese visitors an encounter with foreigners, or at least with their artefacts, without the

need to acquire a passport, travel abroad, or wrestle with the potential pitfalls of using a

foreign tongue. The parks wrap or tame abroad for domestic Japanese consumption.

    A visit to a series of these parks proved to be most informative. First of all, I was

surprised by the degree of sophistication that many of them displayed. I was more

encouraged than ever by the parallel with gardens, and I would argue that they have been

somewhat mis-classified by the use of the category theme park, certainly in its British

usage, which largely implies a day of exciting rides. Many of them do have rides, it is

true, but most of them have much more, and in some cases the rides are altogether absent,

or set discretely apart from the main body of the park, conceptually separated as yūenchi

(amusement park). In my view, several of these parks have more in common with British

Hills, an educational establishment atop a mountain in Fukushima-ken, than with a more

conventional theme park, although they are of course undoubtedly inspired and

                             Old gods, new pilgrimages?      81

influenced by various forms of Disneyland and the more conventional Japanese

amusement park at Takarazuka.

   In this paper, I would like to address some of the touristic elements of these so-called

theme parks, and investigate the now quite familiar idea that visits to places such as these

may be playing a role comparable to that made by a pilgrimage to shrines and temples.

To this end, I will examine the characteristics of pilgrimage as postulated by writers such

as Graburn (1978, 1983), Reader (1993), Rimer (1988) and Turner and Turner (1978) in

order to identify their possible parallels in the theme parks I observed; I will then

examine Moore’s (1980) contention that the theme park form, notably that of Disney

World, is borrowed from the medieval pilgrimage centre, and review some of his ideas;

and finally, I will evaluate the usefulness of this comparison for understanding the role

these so-called theme parks play in contemporary Japan.

                         The magical, liminal or non-ordinary

Graburn’s classic paper Tourism: the Sacred Journey identifies magic as a characteristic

of ‘those structurally-necessary, ritualized breaks in routine that define and relieve the

ordinary’ (Graburn 1978:19). He refers to Durkheim’s notion of the sacred as a ‘non-

ordinary’ experience, to be alternated with the profane, and he adds the important

ingredient of a journey, with a beginning and an end, for the actual practice of tourism,

and for the metaphorical representation of life as a succession of events marked by

changes in state. For Westerners, he argues, ‘tourism is the best kind of life for it is

sacred in the sense of being exciting, renewing, and inherently self-fulfilling’ (Graburn

1978:23).

   In a later article, when Graburn focuses on Japanese tourism, he notes an even

stronger connection when he writes ‘the inherently interesting, fascinating, or spectacular

places in the land have for long been the object of pilgrimages and tourism’ (Graburn

1983:12). He goes on to identify a Japanese ambivalence towards naturally awe-full

places, which ‘both attracts the population out of its “normal” sphere of life and fills them

with fear’ (Graburn 1983:13)—hence the shrines, to partake of the power and protect

people from it. These are extra-normal sites for ritual gathering and liminality, and he

notes that they are ‘managed…for aesthetic purposes, “perfecting” and producing

miniatures of the ideal landscape for contemplation’ (Graburn 1983:12–13).

   Theme parks that reproduce miniature versions of foreign countries ‘manage’ the

extra-normal in the same way, I would argue. By definition, they provide a non-ordinary

experience, described as hi-nichijō no sekai (non-everyday world), and they are ranked

according to their ability to create a dream world (yume no betsusekai), where one will

keep feeling moved (kanjō mochitsuzukeru). A journey is created, even in a relatively

urban area, so that a trip to Huis Ten Bosch, in Sasebo, is made from Hakata station in a

special, brightly coloured train, whose terminus leaves the passenger with a substantial

walk across a wide bridge before entry can be secured.

   Many of the parks are situated at considerable distance from the nearest train station,

though often with a special bus terminal, which still deposits the visitors at some walking

distance from the entrance. At Tazawako, in Akita-ken, the bus which circles the lake,

and passes near to Suisu-mura (Swiss Village), arrives at the station a few minutes after

                      Pilgrimages and spiritual quests in Japan    82

the city train leaves, and departs just before the next one arrives. Of course, this may be a

strategy to have tourists visit the shops and other local facilities (undoubtedly encouraged

by the taxi firms), but it also exemplifies the sense of adventure typically associated with

reaching a magic land. Some of the parks also feature various forms of transport within

them so that the whole experience continues to be a series of journeys.

   The parks are all enclosed, however, and the enclosure is referred to as en,1 with

aspirations about the magic of the inside (en-nai) and published stipulations about

visitors’ appropriate behaviour. In confirmation of the association of tourism with van

Gennep’s (1977) scheme for rites of passage, a definite rite of separation takes place at

the entrance, where as well as parting with considerable sums of money, a visitor is

issued with a passport, a map, and sometimes a book of tickets or a special credit card to

use within the different world they are entering. On leaving, too, a visitor who has

successfully collected the appropriate stamps along the way may claim a souvenir prize.

In any case, there is usually a veritable abundance of souvenir shops to thread through

before one can check out at the turnstile and make the return journey.

   The magic, liminal or non-ordinary nature of the inside is created in various ways.

First, the buildings offer replicas of streets, parks or other scenes from the country

concerned. Some of them may be entered, offering a variety of delights from museum

display, through interactive shows, rides and films, to demonstrations of crafts and skills

characteristic of the country concerned. All of them offer goods only to be found in that

particular theme park, which once purchased will be properly wrapped in distinctive

bags. All offer food and drink, usually of the country concerned, some have hotels,

offering a longer stay in the world of fantasy and several have churches where dream

weddings can be booked. Most have concerts, some have parades, and all have special

events at particular times of the year to encourage the visitor to return.

                         Saints and liberation from constraints

Reader’s introduction to Pilgrimage in Popular Culture (Reader and Walter 1993) makes

an analysis of the use of the word pilgrimage in the English language, noting its

application to visits made to sites associated with famous people, and also to secular

journeys to foreign countries, where these are made for idealistic reasons. Thus, those

who pay homage at the graves of heroes such as Elvis Presley, or Billy Fury or who visit

the cottage where Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote The Ancient Mariner, may be

described as pilgrims, in the same way that those intellectuals, who visited communist

countries in their early heady days to seek cures for the maladies of capitalism, might.

   The work of Rimer (1988), which Reader also cites, combines these two meanings in

his discussion of the visits of Japanese writers to France, which he analyses for the

elements they share with pilgrimage. Drawing on the work of Turner, to which we will

return, he argues that, like pilgrims, they give up their usual surroundings and travel to an

unfamiliar spot, thus experiencing a displacement of site; like actors, they are performing

a rite, estranged from their ordinary sense of self; and, if they are true pilgrims, they

return having experienced a sense of the larger purpose of life (Rimer 1988). Rimer

examines in detail the example of Shimazaki Tōson, and his subsequent writing, but there

                             Old gods, new pilgrimages?      83

are, of course, prior Japanese examples of this kind of venture, perhaps characterized by

the travels of the poet Bashō, and those who followed in his footsteps.2

    It is quite in keeping with our comparison between theme park and pilgrimage, then,

to find that almost all of these depictions of foreign countries feature either a writer, or

one or more of their characters. Canadian World is even built around scenes found in

Anne of Green Gables, and during the summer months, tea may be taken with a Canadian

actress playing the part of Anne, accompanied by her teacher and her friends Diana and

Gilbert, who also offer informal English classes in the replica of Avonlea village school.

An exhibition about the author, L.M.Montgomery, is found in a reproduction of Green

Gables, which is furnished in the style of the period. Visitors express the same zeal that

may be witnessed amongst Japanese who travel to the Bronte house and community in

Yorkshire, England.

    The Brothers Grimm are featured in the German park, where characters from their

stories are represented in statues, on rides, and in an abundance of souvenirs, as well as in

books which may be purchased in several different languages. In the Danish park, it is

Hans Christian Anderson, who is featured; in Parque España, it is Cervantes, or, more

precisely, Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, who pop up in spectacular shows as well as in

books, statues and souvenirs. In the Swiss village, visitors climb up the grassy hill to

Heidi’s cottage, where they encounter cows, goats and ducks, just as she did, and they

can watch a video about her Switzerland. Alice’s House and a Beatles Bus may be visited

in Rainbow Village (Niji no sato), Reoma World has created its own characters which

closely resemble those of Walt Disney, and in Huis Ten Bosch, there is a Characters’

Gallery, reflecting the global nature of this now huge enterprise.

    To emphasize the acting role the visitor may play, some of the theme parks offer

clothes and accessories to be tried on. Girls may temporarily convert themselves into

Anne of Green Gables, at various ages, in Canadian World, and in The Little World,

there are costumes from Alsace, Bavaria, India, Korea and Okinawa. The deal includes a

photo opportunity, and there are usually enough costumes to transport the whole family

into a cultural dream. Elsewhere, visitors may be photographed alongside native

performers who provide examples of their specialty entertainment. In Glücks Königreich,

this included acrobatics, ballroom dancing and classical music, in Parque España, street

music and flamenco dancing, and in the World Bazaar at Huis Ten Bosch, there was an

Irish concert when I was there, as well as an elaborate cheese competition.

    These opportunities for interaction, albeit limited, with the foreigners themselves, or

actors playing the part of fictional foreign characters, as well as their artefacts and

activities, remind us of another parallel with pilgrimage, this time discussed in relation to

the journey to Santiago de Compostela (Costen 1993). Reader points out that one of the

reasons why relics and saints were so important to pilgrims along the journey was that

‘they appeared to offer the ordinary person ready access to the holy’ (Reader 1993:19).

Even though they had died, they were thought to reside in and around their tombs, and

prayers to them would invoke their special powers. This model is not unfamiliar to a

Japanese tourist, offering prayers at a Tenmangū shrine to the god of learning, or the

Izumo shrine to cement a marriage. An approach to distant foreigners is made possible at

the magic world of theme parks, just as an approach to deified humans is made possible

at a Shintō shrine.

                      Pilgrimages and spiritual quests in Japan     84

   Furthermore, entry into the magic world of one of these foreign theme parks allows

tourists to escape, albeit temporarily, into the world of freedom from obligation and

constraint which is often held in Japan to be a characteristic of ‘abroad’ (gaikoku). This

quality is close to that identified by the Turner and Turner (1978:9) who assert that

pilgrimage ‘offers, and emphasizes the voluntary nature of the liminal liberation from

profane social structures’, the entry into this state they then describe as ‘liminoid’ (Turner

and Turner 1978:34–5). The Japanese visitor can enter a foreign world without worrying

about the local customs and conventions, but it is to be hoped that they do not follow too

closely the parallel between religion and travel if, as Turner and Turner assert, ‘they do

this only in order to intensify the pilgrim’s attachment to his own religion, often in

fanatical opposition to other religions’ (1978:9).

                              Theme parks and pilgrimage

Moore (1980) draws heavily on Victor Turner’s work in an article that proposes that the

form of the amusement park Walt Disney World is unconsciously borrowed from the

archaic pilgrimage centre. He draws on theories of play to demonstrate that play and

ritual ‘are expressions of the same metaprocess…symbolic, transcendent or “make-

believe,”…both are related to changes of interaction rates over daily, yearly, and

generational cycles…’ (Moore 1980:208). Like the pilgrimage centre, Walt Disney

World is bounded, set apart from ordinary settlements, with a place of congregation,

some symbols on display, some common activities, and a myth that the other elements—

site, symbols and activities—invoke. Rites of passage accompany movement in and out

of the park, and between different sections of this giant limen, ‘At a time when some

proclaim that God is dead’, he argues, ‘North Americans may take comfort in the truth

that Mickey Mouse reigns at the baroque capital of the Magic Kingdom’ (Moore

1980:216).

    No single figure would seem to have achieved the success of Mickey Mouse in other

Japanese theme parks, but animals acting as people abound in the shows which may be

visited. Moore sees this phenomenon as an example of Turner’s notion of ‘anti-structure’,

emphasized in the way that the characters become the special property of children.

Japanese theme parks illustrate many of the same characteristics which Moore claims are

derived from pilgrimage centres—they are bounded, usually distant places of

congregation, with plenty of symbols on display, and many have common activities

available. Some of them even have real animals—the Marine Park Nixe, whose name

means mermaid, has dolphin and sea lion shows, for example, and Canadian World has

ponies and deer—as well as humans in animal guise.

    However, I find it hard to identify a real solid myth in the Japanese foreign theme

parks. Moore finds the American dream everywhere in Disney World, but the dream of

internationalization (kokusaika)…? Hardly.

                             Old gods, new pilgrimages?      85

         How useful is the concept of pilgrimage for understanding Japanese

                                    theme parks?

In Japanese theme parks, there is little evidence of a quest, a word that commonly crops

up in studies of pilgrimage (e.g. Morinis 1992:ix; Reader 1993:8). According to Morinis,

in his introduction to an edited volume on the anthropology of pilgrimage:

       [P]ilgrimage is born of desire and belief…desire is for solution to

       problems of all kinds that arise within the human situation. The belief is

       that somewhere beyond the known world there exists a power that can

       make right the difficulties that appear so insoluble and intractable here

       and now.

                                                                (Morinis 1992:I)

Europe has been admired in Japan over the last century, it is true, as has America, but it

would seem presumptuous to suggest that the Japanese who visit these theme parks are

seeking more than temporary solutions to the problems of life.

   Moreover, there is also not much in the way of self-testing ordeals, or the fulfilment of

vows and promises so often associated with Christian and Hindu pilgrimages, unless

these may have been made about daring to ride the roller coasters and interactive video

machines (watching the world rush by, madly avoiding things hitting you)! Some of these

are quite alarming, and notices warn those with heart problems, pregnancy, or high and

low blood pressure, to refrain, but the experience is inherently safe, exciting but not

proving or painful.

   According to Cohen, ‘pilgrimage is…expected to provoke religious “rapture” or

“exaltation”’, whereas tourism ‘is expected to give mere pleasure and enjoyment’ (Cohen

1992:53). The latter is now culturally approved as a legitimate activity to refresh from the

stress and strain of normal life. It is ‘recreational’, he points out.

   At a structural level, Cohen (1992) distinguishes between pilgrims who move towards

a centre in their world, and tourists who travel away from the centre of their world to a

periphery. He notes that ‘even as the traditional pilgrimage becomes “mere” tourism,

tourism…becomes for some the new pilgrimage’ (Cohen 1992:52–3). In this theoretical

context, since theme parks actually stand for a peripheral world, their Japanese visitors

find themselves in a position quite opposed to the pilgrimage model. In any case there is

no special power attached to the sites of these theme parks, unlike many of the sites of

pilgrimage (e.g. Eade and Sallnow 1991). They are usually constructed on any

convenient empty location, sometimes purposely to provide employment for workers

made redundant as a previous enterprise closes down.

   In contrast to Cohen’s understanding of pilgrimage, which is characterized by

movement towards a centre, in Japanese pilgrimage there is very often more of a fixed

path of travel, with several sites to visit, rather than a sacred centre. In theme parks too,

there is some sense of a meguri (circular tour, often in the sense of circular pilgrimage),

as one follows the marked route on an appropriately numbered map. As with the famous

Japanese pilgrimage to the 88 Holy Places of Shikoku, the numbered sites may be visited

                      Pilgrimages and spiritual quests in Japan    86

in a different order, possibly during several return visits, and in Shikoku, too, there may

be much eating, drinking and merrymaking, but there is a definite sense of purpose, as

one travels the path with the saint and folk-hero Kōbō Daishi (774–835 CE; see Chapter

2). Prayers and offerings are made at each temple, requests and wishes are written out,

and a pilgrim’s book or scroll is completed ‘as a form of spiritual passport…to enter the

Buddhist Pure Land after death’ (Reader 1993:112–13). Reader also notes, ‘If pilgrimage

manifests touristic themes it also provides continuing scope for the expression and

solution of individual and personal problems’ (ibid).

   Certainly the theme parks represent liminal or even liminoid time; with rites of

passage at entry and exit, they also offer the opportunity for freedom and equality,

encounters with literary characters and a make-believe or magical experience. In Reoma

World there is even a Magical Street, and elsewhere fairy tales abound. Some even have

apparently religious buildings, in many cases a church, though in the Swiss village this

was also a garage. On the Oriental Trip of Reoma World, there are reconstructions of a

Nepalese temple of the first century BC, a Thai temple from the twelfth/thirteenth

century, a seventh-century Middle-Eastern Mosque and a Himalayan building from

Bhutan. The latter encloses an array of shrines to Hindu gods, and may be approached

while spinning a series of mani wheels.

   In the Mosque area, there is a row of mechanical fortune-tellers, of different origins,

offering an activity parallel to the purchase of o-mikuji (written oracle, sacred] in shrines

in Japan, and in Huis Ten Bosch there is an astrological hall where the delights of

Western astrology are explained and applied by means of a computer.

   However, I saw no one praying at any of these edifices, and in a beautiful

reconstruction of a golden shrine from Peru, in The Little World, many of the visitors just

walked on through without a glance at the ornate altar and depiction of the dying Christ.

A group of youths visiting the Thai temple when I was there even rejected it as Buddhist

(bukkyō no koto ja nai deshō). Despite all this apparently ‘sacred’ or ‘religious’ activity

to back up the structural and metaphorical parallels discussed above, there would seem to

be a total lack of devotional or spiritual experience, to be taken home and shared with

family and friends.3 In a society like Japan where elements of religion may be identified

everywhere and nowhere, the existence of buildings is not enough. Anyway, the churches

are for weddings, or to house the spare model racing cars, and without exception, the

visitors I spoke to were there for fun (asobi).

   The theme parks, for their own part, are predominantly commercial ventures, and the

abundance of goods available for purchase in some of them is quite staggering. Indeed,

one of the main points of ranking in the comparison of different theme parks is the

number of exclusive items that can be purchased there. Wine and beer are specialties in

almost all the European parks, and groups of men were drinking from quite early on at

Glücks Königreich on the day I visited. Sangria was available at little stalls in Parque

España, and all manner of drink and food could be found in Huis Ten Bosch. Visitors

expect to purchase things to take home, as well as to enjoy them at the site, but further

research would be required to investigate their consumption and symbolic value in the

sphere of everyday life. Foreign goods clearly carry a high value in Japan, and this could

be a very fruitful way to proceed.

   To return, finally, to the ritual aspects of visiting theme parks, I would like to make

reference to a classic work in the genre concerned with another related form of activity,

                              Old gods, new pilgrimages?        87

namely the festival. In his essay, Time and False Noses, Leach (1961) identifies two

opposing types of behaviour associated with rites of passage: on the one hand these rites

may be formal, where differences of status are precisely demarcated by dress and

etiquette, and where moral rules are rigorously and ostentatiously displayed; on the other,

they may involve masquerade, where the individual, instead of emphasizing his social

personality and his official status, seeks to disguise it.

    Leach gives examples of rites, such as weddings, which start with one of these types

of behaviour and ends with the other, and of periods of time, such as Lent, which are

marked by one at the beginning and another at the end. He argues that the complete role

reversal found at some festivals might characterize a strictly liminal state, which would

then be precisely the opposite of normal life. The three, taken together, comprise the

three phases of separation, transition and incorporation of a classic rite de passage, as

identified by van Gennep (1977).

    In a complex society, where time is carefully marked out and divided up according to

at least two calendars, there is no need for rites to mark time in this way as they did in

ancient societies. Indeed the marking of space has become somewhat academic in the

world of television, videophones and internet diaspora. The sacred/profane distinction

postulated by Durkheim, and developed by van Gennep, has provided the underpinning

for many a clever theoretical argument linking tourism and religion, but in my view it is

time for a more careful consideration of this classificatory device in a global context.

There are many parallels between the behaviour of pilgrims and tourists, in Japan and

elsewhere, but there are also some critical differences, as I hope that Japanese theme

parks have made clear. The exercise was informative, but I think we must look elsewhere

for a more complete understanding of the explosion of Japanese theme parks (cf. Hendry

2000).

                                             Notes

   1 The Japanese character for this en includes a complete surrounding box, which illustrates the

      meaning of a location enclosed in some way, and separated from outside space around it.

   2 For an example in English, see Downer (1990). Endo’s novel Foreign Studies (1989) also

      illustrates the experience, and indeed plight, of the Japanese writers living in Paris.

   3 Gifts of amulets and other memorabilia were brought back from pilgrimages when it was

      customary in Japan to save many as a group to send one or two representatives from time to

      time. These engimono, now replaced by o-miyage or o-mamori etc. from specific shrines,

      have been interpreted as ‘magical links’ between the actual pilgrim and the other members of

      the group (Kyburz 1988, discussed in Hendry 1993). There are plenty of goods to be

      purchased in theme parks, but I have not yet established the type of role they are playing.

                                          References

Cohen, Erik (1992) ‘Pilgrimage and tourism: convergence and divergence’, Alan Morinis (ed.)

  Sacred Journeys: The Anthropology of Pilgrimage, Westport, Connecticut and London:

  Greenwood, pp. 47–61.

Costen, Michael (1993) ‘The pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela in medieval Europe’, I.Reader

  and T.Walter (eds), Pilgrimage in Popular Culture, London: Macmillan, pp. 137–54.

Downer, Leslie (1990) On the Narrow Road to the Deep North, London: Septre.

                       Pilgrimages and spiritual quests in Japan       88

Eade, John and Michael Sallnow (eds) (1991) Contesting the Sacred: The Anthropology of

   Christian Pilgrimage, Routledge: London and New York.

Endo, Shūsaku (1989) Foreign Studies, London: Septre.

Graburn, Nelson (1978) ‘Tourism—The Sacred Journey’, Valene L.Smith (ed.) Hosts and Guests:

   The Anthropology of Tourism, Oxford: Basil Blackwell, pp. 17–32.

Graburn, Nelson (1983) ‘To pray, pay and play: the cultural structure of contemporary tourism’,

   Centre des Hautes Etudes Touristiques Serie B, no. 26. Aix en Provence.

Hendry, Joy (1993) Wrapping Culture: Politeness Presentation and Power in Japan and Other

   Societies, Oxford: Clarendon Press.

Hendry, Joy (1997) ‘Nature tamed: gardens as a microcosm of Japan’s view of the world’, Pamela

   J.Asquith and Arne Kalland (eds) Japanese Images of Nature: Cultural Perspectives, London:

   Curzon Press, pp. 83–105.

Hendry, Joy (2000) The Orient Strikes Back: A Global View of Cultural Display, Oxford and

   New York: Berg.

Kyburz, Joseph (1988) ‘Engimono, Miyage, Omocha—Three material manifestations of the notion

   of en’, Unpublished paper presented at the 5th Triennial Conference of the European

   Association for Japanese Studies, Durham.

Leach, E.R. (1961) ‘Time and false noses’ in his Rethinking Anthropology, London: The Athlone

   Press.

Moore, Alexander (1980) ‘Walt Disney World: bounded ritual, space and the playful pilgrimage

   center’, Anthropological Quarterly, 53(4), 207–18.

Morinis, Alan (ed.) (1992) Sacred Journeys: The Anthropology of Pilgrimage, Westport,

   Connecticut and London: Greenwood.

Reader, Ian (1993) ‘Dead to the world: pilgrims in Shikoku’, I.Reader and T.Walter (eds)

   Pilgrimage in Popular Culture, London: Macmillan, pp. 107–36.

Reader, Ian and Tony Walter (1993) Pilgrimage in Popular Culture, London: Macmillan.

Rimer, J.Thomas (1988) Pilgrimages: Aspects of Japanese Literature and Culture, Honolulu:

   University of Hawaii Press.

Turner, Victor and Edith Turner (1978) Image and Pilgrimage in Christian Culture:

   Anthropological Perspectives, Oxford: Basil Blackwell.

van Gennep, Arnold (1977) The Rites of Passage, London: Routledge and Kegan Paul.

Yoshida, Teigo (1981) ‘The stranger as God: the place of the outsider in Japanese folk religion’,

   Ethnology XX(2), 87–99.