Yamabushi introduction

Recently I have been feeling a little less than enthusiastic about living in Japan.  When I first got here I would write stories to folks back home about the latest tale of absurdity from my life.  Unfortunately after two years much of life here seems to have become very ordinary.  As strange as it was at first, Japan is home now.  I suppose I have gotten used to the weirdness.  What that says about me I am still not sure.  I do know that I have been craving something new and interesting for quite some time.  Maybe that is why I decided to go and live with the Yamabushi for a long weekend. 

The Yamabushi are a sect of ascetic monks.  Well, maybe monks isn�t the best word for them since there is really no dogma attached to their group.  Perhaps it is best to use a more technical term, like crazy mountain men.  The Yamabushi have been around for 1400 years now, which is an absurdly long time when you think about it.  1400 years ago is approximately one thousand years before any white person even set foot in Japan.  I think that it is not without some significance that I was able to join in essentially the same rituals that have been around since long before my pasty white ass set foot in this country. 

So, you might ask, what exactly do the Yamabushi do?  The basic principle is that they go off into the mountains and deny themselves the basic comforts of life (like brushing your teeth) in order to become more powerful.  Most of the guidebooks will bring up some sort of mystical and magical association to the practice.  The idea is that you symbolically die and then experience hell by subjecting yourself to the trials of the mountains.  At the end of your time you are supposedly reborn back into life.  In reality there was not very much talk of the philosophy behind it all, or if there was I didn�t understand the Japanese.  The main focus seemed to be on experiencing what the Yamabushi go through and then drawing your own conclusions.    

So basically you put yourself through some extreme trials in order to gain a greater appreciation of life, nature, god, television, soap, or whatever is most important to you.  It is really fairly simply and passive approach to theology which I found refreshing.  Especially coming from the south where people will literally hit you over the head with a bible.  But I suppose that is beside the point.  Now, enough history and explanation, what the hell was it like? 

I guess the best place to start is with the dress.  There is a very specific costume that the Yamabushi wear.  To start with it is all white.  You have a fundoshi, which is a loincloth. You then have a yukata, which is kind of like a short thin robe.  Over this you have a pair of Hakama, or Japanese trousers.  Hakama are kind of hard to explain as they are mainly open and tie in the front and the back.  They are very comfortable though.  You also wear two strips of cloth that are tied around your calves.  I forgot what they were called, but they are very useful for keeping plants and mud from tearing up your legs.  You also wear tabi socks and shoes.  Tabi meaning that the big toe is separate from the other toes.  Think ninja shoes, but white.  To top it all off you have a cloth that you wrap around your head kind of like a Japanese turban.  You also get a walking stick, perhaps the most important item of the whole wardrobe.

Arriving at the museum that organizes the event, I, along with my fellow students, got into our Yamabushi wear.  Then there was a brief introduction speech followed by the blowing of a conch shell horn.  I don`t know where they get the conch shell but it makes a rather unique and kind of haunting sound.  Very appropriate for a bunch of crazy mountain men.  Our group contained 34 people with about ten women.  I learned right before the trip that women have only been allowed to participate for the past three years.  Before then they were considered too delicate.  Who says Japan isn�t making progress.  There were also three foreigners including myself. 

I was surprised by a couple of things about the group.  One: that there were so few foreigners.  I was a little bit nervous that there would be a dozen or so annoying foreigners around that would make the experience somehow less Japanese.  I have developed a theory for the reason foreigners don�t like seeing other foreigners in Japan.  If they are goofy and act kind of stupid it makes you painfully aware of how goofy and stupid you are to most Japanese people.  And this is the kind of event that usually attracts the goofiest, most annoying brand of foreigner,(myself excluded of course).  Anyway, it is besides the point as there were not too many of us goofy folks so it felt fairly authentic.  The second thing that surprised me was that the majority of the people had come from very far away to get there.  I drove approximately 20 minutes to get there, no big deal.  But there were people from Tokyo, Osaka, Hokkaido and even one guy that came all the way from New York just for this event.  It made me feel like I was really doing something worthwhile that there were all of these people that had gone to so much more effort than I had. 

The first activity on the Yamabushi schedule was something called Mizu-guri.  That means sitting your ass in really cold water in Japanese.  We all striped down to our loin cloths and went and sat in a very chilly mountain stream.  Personally, I love stuff like that.  I am one of those mental people who enjoy the cold.  I find it refreshing.  Most of my fellow mountain men seemed to find it the opposite.  They just found it very cold. 

After we had been properly purified in the mountain water (which I highly doubt was that pure, but that is beside the point) we climbed the mountain.  This particular mountain is called Haguro-san, and it is not actually that big.  It is however, famous for having a very picturesque path of stone steps that lead to the temple on the top.  2446 steps to be exact, and yes that is a lot.  So we climbed up the steps, (which is very hard work), had a little talk at the shrine at the top, (of which I understood very little) and then we returned to home base. 

Now it was time for a pleasant surprise.  A lot of the books on Yamabushi and a lot of the Japanese people I had talked to make it out to be very intense and kind of scary.  Going in, I wasn�t sure exactly how far the ascetic part of the experience extended.  To be specific, I wasn�t sure what we were and were not allowed to do.  I knew that you were not allowed to bathe, wash your face, or brush your teeth for the duration of the trip.  I also knew that you were expected to follow the Yamabushi diet, which is a single, rather small, bowl of rice, a bowl of miso soup, and a couple of pickles twice a day.  What I wasn�t sure about and was more than a little concerned about were two things:  water and the bathroom.  For some reason I got it into my head that we would not be allowed to use the restroom except for certain times.  I have no idea where I got this idea, but going in it had me fairly paralyzed with fear.  I even considered taking some drastic actions before the trip began to avoid any potential problems.  I will not elaborate, but you can use your imagination, or maybe it would be better if you didn�t.  Anyway, I was concerned that I would have to run off and do my business behind some tree when no one was looking.  I was also concerned that there would be similar restrictions on drinking water that there would be on the food.  After all the point is to experience hell, and in my case not being able to drink enough water and then rid myself of said water in a dignified fashion is a fairly accurate description of hell.  Luckily, on returning to the base of the mountain both of these fears were completely relived.  There were two giant pitchers of ice water waiting and we had a thirty minute break were we were encouraged to go to the restroom, have a smoke, and basically relax like civilized human beings.  In retrospect my fears were a little irrational.  After all this is still modern Japan, land of the remote control toilet, and even though we are supposed to be depriving ourselves we can only be expected to go so far.  That being said, I was a little disappointed to be so comfortable.  I had psyched myself up to endure some serious hardship and here I am drinking not just water, but ice water.  Surely, these were not real Yamabushi I thought.  One day I will learn to watch what I wish for. 

After our hiking and rest we went back outside for a little meditation.  Now I have never been a big fan of meditation.  When I was younger I made some efforts at Zen meditation, but I never really enjoyed it that much.  Maybe it was the extreme pain in my back and legs that turned me off.  Still, I signed on to be a mountain man so I figured I would give it another try.  Unfortunately, my back and legs still protested rather strongly after ten minutes of meditation.  After thirty I couldn�t feel my right foot.  Just as I was starting to relax a little, the call of the conch horn nearly scared me to death and meditation was over.  Much to my relief I saw that almost everyone else had shared in my pain.  As we all limped back together, I realized that part of the attraction of meditating has to be how good it feels to know that you are done meditating and can compose yourself like a normal human being. 

The next part of the experience was one that I actually felt would not be too big of a problem.  Yamabushi meals are, by rule, vegetarian.  It is a leftover from its Buddhist roots.  During the ascetic phase you get a bowl of rice, a bowl of soup, and two pickles.  I figure it adds up to about 300 calories a meal.  You get two meals a day.  Surprisingly, I wasn�t that hungry afterward.  Perhaps, I was still in the afterglow of being able to drink water and use indoor plumbing, but I was fairly satisfied. 

After our feast, we walked through the woods to a five storied pagoda for more meditation, this time sitting on rocks.  I don�t have much to say about more staring at nothing other than half way through the thirty minutes a branch blew out of a tree and landed squarely on my head.  It did not hurt, but it did give me something to ponder for the rest of the time.  Mainly, what the odds are that a branch would hit me on the head in the middle a forest while I was trying to meditate. 

The last order of the evening was something called nam-ban.  This is where you sit in a closed room while the senior mountain men burn chili peppers over hot coals.  The entire room fills with very acrid smoke and you have to block it out while you ponder the mysteries of life, such as, why do people like to punish themselves.  Much to my surprise I turned out to be a world class smoke inhaler.  While the rest of the room fell into a coughing, wheezing heap I found it rather enjoyable.  I remember thinking, now this I can meditate through.  Give me something to occupy my mind and I can sit still for a very long time, give me grass to stare at and I am soon wondering who will win the super bowl this year and if my circulatory system is sustaining permanent damage.  Anyway, we had two ten minute sessions in the pepper room, and I can say with full confidence that I was the only person who enjoyed it.  I think most of my fellow mountain disciples thought I was out of my mind when I came out smiling, but it proved a nice way to make conversation. 

Me:  That wasn�t so bad. I would like to try twenty minutes

Them:  ������. (Open mouth staring at the crazy white guy)

After soaking in a freezing river, climbing a mountain, staring at nothing, and inhaling something resembling pepper spray, it was time to call it a day.  We all made our way to the local Yamabushi inn.  Once again, I was pleasantly surprised that it was not that bad.  A futon,(a bit on the thin side,) a pillow and a blanket.  Once again I had envisioned sleeping on pine needles for some reason.  The only real challenge was overcoming the cacophony of snoring that seemed to come from every direction.  I am convinced that if you get more than three men in a room you are guaranteed to have at least one snorer.  If you get twenty men in a room then you have a chainsaw match.  I actually think snoring in cases like this becomes contagious, as if subconsciously the guys are trying to outdo one another.  Luckily, I resorted to an old trick.  I went the restroom and soaked a paper towel in water.  Then I wadded it up and stuck pieces of it in my ears.  This is really amazingly effective.  It does not completely block out all sound but it did take the roar down to a nice buzz. 

Wake up call for mountain men is at four a.m.  I have not woken up at four a.m. in a very long time.  Actually, I am not sure if I have ever gotten up at four a.m.  Even the army lets you sleep in till five.  Holy crap, it�s early. 

As soon as it got light enough (it was still dark for crying out loud,) we all marched back down the stream and dunked ourselves in.  It was still cold.  Oddly enough, I didn�t enjoy it as much at 5 in the morning as I had at 3 in the afternoon.  After that we had our breakfast which was the same as dinner.  Then we boarded a bus for the next mountain.

Mount Gas-san is a much bigger mountain that Haguro, 1994 meters to be exact.  That is a little over a mile.  Normally it is not that bad of a climb, maybe two and a half hours to the summit.  Unfortunately, on this day there was a typhoon off the coast of Japan.  It was not actually that close to us, but it was close enough to give us strong winds and a kind of thin, stinging rain.  Those kinds of conditions do not make for a pleasant mountaineering experience to say the least.  Also, since I decided to be a hard core mountain man, I had only brought my rain parka and not my full rain suit.  I was a little put off when everyone else brought out their North Face full mountain rain suits and put them on over their traditional costumes.  One of them, who spoke English, saw my pathetic parka and commented that I might as well go up wearing only my loin cloth.  I thanked him for his vote of confidence.  Still, I figured I was being more authentic so it was alright. 

Well it was not alright, it was cold.  This was definitely the hell portion of the trip.  I stayed dry for approximately fifteen minutes then a gust of wind blew open my parka and soaked me down to my fundoshi.  The bitter irony of it all is that on a nice day Gas-san is brilliant mountain to climb, wild flowers, mountain meadows and possibly a view of the sea.  And the previous day it had been exceptionally clear and fine.  After two hours of climbing, slipping, and nearly being blown off the mountain by gusts of wind we made it to the shrine at the top of the mountain.  I am sure I would have appreciated the shrine much more if I had been able to feel my hands.  We did have a brief break at the lodge at the top where I was able to defrost my fingers a bit and ponder the meaning of suffering.  Also as a surprise bonus we got bowl of miso soup.  I reassured myself that those 80 calories would surely give me the strength to make it back down the mountain.  To my surprise it did.  It is amazing how steadily getting warmer instead of colder can improve your mood.  By the time I reached the bottom I was fairly cheery even though it was still only 55 degrees.  I then promptly fell asleep on the bus. 

When I woke up I found that we had arrived at a much more picturesque locale.  It was time to meditate under the waterfall.  Now needless to say I was highly excited.  This was one of the main reasons that I signed up for the trip.  It did not disappoint.  Very cold water, this time in the afternoon, and a feeling like I had really accomplished something.  Once again got some crazy looks, but nonetheless a very positive experience. 

That evening it was more of the same.  Meditation, dinner, Meditation,

Then we had Tengu sumo, a sumo competition for all of the participants.  I was not too excited at first.  Tengu means a devil in Japanese and for a while I wondered if it was the kind of sumo I had seen on a television program about bizarre Japanese festivals.  In that form of sumo, you wrestle the gods, or to be more specific, you wrestle nothing and just mime as if you are sumo wrestling.  Now no one likes mime, so I was a little hesitant.  Luckily it was a normal sumo tournament except you had to take someone down to the ground.  I volunteered for an early match only to find that my opponent was taking this far more seriously than I was.  Now, I don�t like losing but I was willing to accept defeat since it was all in good fun.  Then, after everyone had had a chance to wrestle they announced that for the final would be for a nice prize.  Now we are serious.  I volunteered and managed win myself a nifty little carved model of the five storied pagoda.  Also the pride of being Tengu sumo champion, which of course is important as well.  Did I mention that the prize is normally twenty dollars?  Yatta!

Next, once again inhaling burning smoke.  The main thing to note was that since this was our last chance to choke on chili smoke the instructors decided to step it up a few notches.  I quickly understood why everyone looked at me like I was crazy the night before.  This hurt, this was not fun, this left a very odd taste in your mouth and stunk up your clothes.  Still, I never coughed once.  Pretty good night as far as becoming a mountain man is concerned. 

The next morning I was once again awoken just after 4.  Did I mention that I hate mornings.  I hate waking up at eight in the morning.  Four in the morning is when you leave the karaoke parlor. 

This was the last day, and the last dip in cold water.  It was almost poignant.  Still coming out of the stream the first thought in my mind was that the next day I would be taking a hot shower in the morning.  And that I would be doing it almost three hours later. 

The last day�s climb was Haguro-san once again.  I was not too happy about it for two reasons: one we had just climbed it; and two my feet were absolutely killing me and stone steps did not seem very appealing.  To my delight we did not go up the steps, we took a completely different route through the forest.  We visited the sight of the original temple that was destroyed along with many other Buddhist temples during the Meiji restoration (an interesting historical side note that often goes unnoticed in modern Japan, I am sure you are all familiar with it).  We also trekked up to the real Yamabushi lodge where every year they spend an entire week wandering the mountains, inhaling chilies, and getting very smelly.  It was oddly compelling, having had a sample of what the life was like.  I gained a great deal of respect for the crazy bastards that do it for an extended period of time. 

The hike back was actually rather melancholy.  I was rather surprised that I was a bit choked up.  I still don�t completely understand all of the emotions that were going on.  I know that I was very happy to have been a part of something that goes back 1400 years.  I know that I was very happy to be going back to my modern life of showers and toothbrushes.  And I know that I regained some of the love for Japan that had been missing for a very long time.  It is very hard to put into words what I went through on the walk back, but I realized something on a very basic level.  Something that I still don�t completely understand.  This is why people do crazy mountain things.  This feeling.   

At the end of the Yamabushi experience you are reborn by jumping over a fire.  It is really rather cool, but it seemed like a bit of an anti-climax to be honest.  I had already come to terms with the experience in my own way I suppose.  Hopefully someone at least got a good picture.

After all was said and done we all proceeded to the nearest onsen for the real rebirth.  A long shower, a hot bath, and 3 rounds of brushing my teeth.  Perhaps, this is really what it is all about.  I don�t think I have ever enjoyed a shower more than I enjoyed that one.  Then we all got drunk, at noon.  I think I would consider that a proper ending in Japan, mountain man or not.   

By Ian Reynolds. 

Back to top