Temple visit of many layers - Eihei-ji monks, tourists, pilgrims, and townies

 

Rainy Saturday in December for visitors to temple grounds

On the 30-minute bus ride from JR Fukui train station (east gate) to the Zen temple town of Eihei-ji the many people of all ages and gender, including people speaking languages other than Japanese, spurred thoughts of the forthcoming sights and sounds of the temple town. After a few years living and working occasionally in this part of Japan during the decades since 1984, this bus ride would not be the first, nor hopefully last time to see the ancient cedars, imposing buildings, eager shopkeepers making a living, and glimpses of temple personnel resident or visiting.

An extreme case of interpretive lenses would be to use the "Rashomon effect" seen in Kurosawa's movie, itself an interpretation of Shakespeare's Hamlet, and tally up all the individual perspectives of the temple and its town on this day and also in a longer, longitudinal time frame. Countless experiences would fit into that kind of approach since each person's location within their own life shapes their field of view and the frame that they see the place and themselves within it. But taking a more modest layering of experiences, the following come to mind. One is surface impressions; what an observer might learn simply by watching and occasionally asking questions about the temple life and town activity, too. Another is an eye on the visitors - religious or sight-seeing or another other sort (experts of architecture, history, chanting, or traditional arts incorporated into temple lives and cycles of activity. Then below these observable patterns and practices there is a third layer; what the temple residents, staff, and leaders think about - how they use time and talent to carry out the things significant to them. Likewise for the several varieties of visitor, but also town residents; there is the layer of what this group of people understand of the place and the things they see or take part in. Finally, there is the layer involving the author of this blogpost: looking at the place from the time of arrival on the day's first bus at 10:18 to the departure on the 12:30 return, there is the layer for picking apart the previous four layers before making a statement or interpretation on top of all those others; an interpretation about the other interpretations all jostling side by side.

Clearly, there is no single interpretation of the Eihei-ji (永平寺) temple town. Whether it is a simple fact like the arrival of the 10:18 bus from Fukui station, or it is a whole day of Matsuri (annual festival), the several layers described here --and likely others by historian, journalist, novelist, religion researcher, and so on-- all figure into the total experience at hand, no matter if the reference is minutes, days, or decades. So while this short walk through the many points of view intersecting at Eihei-ji town and temple does not lead to a firm conclusion, illuminating cross-cultural comparison, or a crystal clear analysis of interplaying and evolving viewpoints, by identifying some of the moving parts in this picture, the complexity at least can be acknowledged.

Japan books - between insider and outsider views

Photos from three recent Japan books

Many times "cultural broker" can be substituted for the word and the work of ethnographer, cultural anthropologist, or social observer doing fieldwork among local residents. That is because the method of participant-observation calls for insider (participant) as well as outsider (observer) perspectives on what the curious person experiences (participant) and interprets (observer). Being in-between and functioning as a bridge between fully participant (local people) and fully spectators (visitors not from around that place) involves talking to both sides in ways that make sense to them. Hence the image of broker or go-between. The down-side of being in the middle is the "glass half-full" effect of missing out on some dimensions of local experience, while also missing out on some of the insights seen by outsiders. At the same time, though, this mid-way position allows a person to see and think of things invisible to the others.

This photo shows a few picture-dominant presentations of people, places, and things in present-day Japan. On the left is World Heritage Japan (John Lander 2019) with online map, https://bit.ly/WorldHeritageMap and on the top right is Tiny Tokyo (Ben Thomas 2014) and 100 Tokyo Sights (Stephen Mansfield 2020). For a non-Japanese with little or no knowledge base, a visual approach is immediately welcoming since little burden of language and history is required to explore the subject according to one's own tastes, habits, and preexisting interests. This is the outsider perspective; somebody on the outside looking in. The opposite is a local Japanese point of view in which some and possibly most of the showcased subjects are already familiar is some way, if not by personal or 2nd-hand reports, then by popular culture of mass media and perhaps some exposure during school days. Both positions, insider and outsider, include blind spots. For the outsider there are dimensions that go undetected, or if noticed then maybe underappreciated or that may be dismissed from ignorance. For the insider there is a risk of taken-for-granted skimming over aspects that are overly familiar already. In other words, Too Much Knowledge (overly familiar) and Too Little Knowledge (ignorance) accompany the insider and the outsider, respectively.

Consider a non-Japanese who is long-time Japan resident, is intermediate or advanced speaker of the language, and is connected to a diverse array of social relationships and obligations with Japanese. Such a person, for example Japan anthropologist or journalist, has bifocal vision: able to see things in the distance, but also able to see things in close-up detail, too. In this cultural broker person reside both of the risks described earlier, the possibility of taking for granted certain meanings and familiar significance, but also the possibility of bouncing off the surface like a passing tourist can easily do. At the same time, though, in this in-between position there is an opportunity to discuss cultural undercurrents visible to Japanese with them and also with outsiders. Likewise, the cultural broker can enter into conversation topics with non-Japanese and interject cultural footnotes, counterpoints, and interpretations only half-aware in the mind of the visiting observer of life in Japan.

Looking at the representation of Japan in these three books (designated Heritage sites, miniature-camera lens manipulation of locations, and seldom seen gems to visit in greater Tokyo) from the eye of a person who is both insider and outsider, the same pages can seem slightly exotic (what tourists might see in the photo) and also slightly ordinary (what nearby residents but also out-of-town Japanese might see in the photo). Take, for example, the officiants of the Shinto Shrine near the center of the composite photo. A Japanese might immediately think of the performance dimension (how well the people approximate to the expectations and ideals for quality of costume and attention to personal grooming, attention to details of ceremony and order of services, and so on) and hearken back to similar experiences at other locations and during other moments of one's own life trajectory. Things like novelty, theology, and hunger to seize on a small piece of interpretive insight are not too likely to be uppermost in the mind of the Japanese who sees the photo.

By contrast, a non-Japanese who sees this same scene for the first (or for the 20th) time may feel cultural, social, and linguistic separation from the people in the photo. Rather than focus on the performative and the personal memories attaching to the portrait, the outsider may drift into abstraction, noticing the textures, geometry, and soundscape that goes with the subject. Or the outsider may view the event as a kind of Reality TV in which the experience of spectating is uppermost in the person's mind: does this thing amuse me, teach me, or cause delight? In between the insider (Japanese) and the outsider (non-Japanese) is the viewpoint of the cultural broker. It could be a Japanese who trains in social science as a way to establish some distance from ordinary habits of seeing and thinking about things native to the person's own formative experience of growing up. Or it could be a non-Japanese who has trained in the language and life among Japanese in order to gain a functional ability to communicate and engage in the cultural landscape there. In either case, the in-between person can look at the photo of officiants in motion and see things that neither the outsider (abstraction, amusement) nor the insider (performative meaning, memory bank) are sensing.

All of the above standpoints may run through the mind of the cultural broker: performance expectations and personal memories for comparison, but also the vantage point from a distance in which artistic abstractness and possibly some small thrill of novelty also come to mind. In the company of outsiders this cultural broker can talk about some of the meanings, origins, and purposes of the officiants. And in the company of insiders the cultural broker can draw attention or the drift of conversation to questions that outsiders might like to know: how does one train to become an officiant, what are the economics of incoming sources of money balanced against expenses to be paid out, organizationally how does this instance fit into larger structures today and across the generations. Both insider and outsider may be content to see the officiants as 2-dimensional, cardboard cutouts doing their jobs. But a social commentator in between the inside and outside will be eager to see the officiants as whole people, not just ceremonial functionaries: who they were before training, who they aim to become as the years of experience accumulate, and what personal likes and dislikes color their experience of the role they perform in formal settings.

Flipping through the pictures and captions in these three books with the eye of a cultural anthropologist of Japan, there is a mixture of exoticness and of familiarity with other places and times experienced first-hand or in the pictures shared by others in print or online. A few subjects stand out for personal visits or experiences of them. These subjects exist as real places that one can plan a trip to visit. They are similar to many other instances seen over the years when living in Japan. At the same time, though, hints of unfamiliarity also come out of these pages: the names, spellings, history, associated events and personalities, and so on may be waiting to be researched. But in the casual browsing of the books, those particulars are absent in most cases. 

Another way to contrast the insider and outsider browsing of photos is that Japanese will have some personal or 2nd-hand knowledge of the subject (conocer in Spanish, "knowing personally"), while a non-Japanese has only book knowledge or spectator experience of the subject (saber in Spanish, "knowing the facts"). In English, though, these twin senses of "know" are blurred in a single word. Yet the difference between knowing (personally known) and knowing (facts learned) parallels the difference between insider (participant; Japanese) and outsider (observer; non-Japanese). So even something as casual and spontaneous as turning the pages of picture books can produce very different viewing experiences in the minds of insiders, outsiders, and those who stand in-between.

Symbolic meanings - present and significant, or merely armchair speculations?

 

About 6 months after the presidential election the road sign lingers.

Social observers are trained in various academic traditions, from (public) art criticism to social psychology to social anthropology. Ethnographers who document individuals and groups of people within their cultural landscape draw on diverse theoretical approaches to interpret the things they seize upon. One scholarly field is  Symbolic Anthropology, in which artifacts like flags or architecture or lyrics are closely examined for layers of meanings carried, sometimes easily explained by local residents, but other times only dimly recognized or felt. So the question of which meanings govern the people's uses, intentions, and reactions can be hard to answer: must a person be consciously aware of a certain facet of the multiple meanings for that sense to make an impact? Or can dormant meanings in one generation turn out to be dominant meanings in another generation. Even within the same generation will different factions of people emphasize different significance according to their own purposes? Furthermore, leaving the firm ground of conscious discussion and perception, will meanings that are only dimly perceived also bear on a person's seeing and behavior. Going further still, can certain dimensions of a ritual, a habit, or a living space that are unseen, unable to be verbalized, and are claimed to be absent or are dismissed as mischaracterizations (lies) made by others also be real?

The case of this photo illustrates some of this wondering out loud. The USA election of the nation's chief executive takes place every 4 years, in this instance early November 2020, with the newly chosen president's term of office beginning with the swearing in at noon of January 20, 2021. That is when Joe R. Biden took the place of Donald J. Trump. In many cities there is a local ordinance that requires property owners to remove political campaign signage within 3 weeks of election day. But this large display is a few miles east of the city of Lowell, Michigan, outside the city limits. It consists of a blue TRUMP flag facing west and the white edition facing east, sandwiching heavy black plastic lining material to withstand rain, snow, and wind. For months the "Thank you, President Trump [thank you for working so hard to] Keep America Great" message greeted passing motorists on state highway M-21. But then sometime early in April or possibly March 2021 the sign was shredded with the sharp slashes made to it. Without talking to the person or persons who expressed one or more meanings in this act, it is hard to know what it signifies precisely, at least within the scope of awareness in the perpetrator's intentions. 

From a symbolic point of view, the assault on the fabric of the political campaign flags could be an uncomplicated action to tell the property owner (or the person who the property own gave permission for the display) that the election is finished, the new president is in office, and the old president's traces and trappings should disappear. A more complicated statement might take into account the audience of curious drivers - those who resonate outrage to the offense, those who agree with the defacing action, and those indifferent to political matters all together. In this wider interpretation, not only does the vandal send a message to the display owner, but also communicates to the wider world of spectators: "Ex-president Trump is a blight to be removed," for instance. "I am doing that public service for you all. Since he shredded civil social life, now let his fabric representation be torn, too." An even more tenuous interpretation might be to view the violence as not only physical, but also symbolic: slashing apart the Trump name is hoped to work like a Voodoo doll to harm the one being referenced in name or in the form of figurine.

Going back to the initial question posed in the title of this article, there are seemingly unlimited layers of meaning to distinguish singly or in various combinations. In the eyes of those conducting the symbolic work of creating the display, and those destroying the display; or in the eyes of those passers-by who live in the vicinity or who happen to take this road one day and notice the sign, can anybody trained in Symbolic Anthropology ever make a convincing conclusion about the truest and most comprehensive interpretation for the whole thing? Or will any declaration have to be bracketed as "conscious meaning," "semi-aware," and "present but unacknowledged" dimensions of the significance. That is an open question: just because one interviewee says it is true, or on the contrary, denies a given point of view, that does not serve as the final word on the way that meanings are expressed, impressed, reworked, and associated from the immediate to more figurative or abstract realms of significance. This confluence and contradiction in interpretation echoes the tensions sometimes seen between "insider" (emic) and "outsider" (etic) standpoints.

In the end, symbolic interpretations have a valuable place in social analysis by widening the frame of meanings and motivations. But the most reliable assessment about one interpretation rising above others would seem to come from cross-checking the stated interpretation against observable responses: how people react, take action (or fail to act), and what they say that is consonant or that contradicts that claimed interpretation. The more that these parallel forms of meaning speak to each other, the more likely that the particular interpretation holds true. For this roadside statement near the intersection of Pinkney Road and M-21 just east of Lowell one thing is certain: the printed message associated with Trump now is rendered illegible. It shows the strike-through editing made of it.