Kii Peninsula is simply the real Japan

JAPAN'S KII PENINSULA
Is Simply The Real Japan

By Ray Chatelin
Photos by Toshi

Just south of Osaka, hanging down into the Pacific like a giant earthen ear-lobe, rests the soul of Japan, the Kii Peninsula. And for anyone wanting to touch the heart of this still mysterious nation, it is where you must travel to. For within the region is the fountainhead of Japan's culture - a living time capsule that links all Japanese in a brotherly bondage.

It is said that Shinto taught the surface beauty of the cherry blossom but it was Buddhism that taught that its subtle beauty was in its impermanence - something that humans share. In those concepts of life and living dwell the most obvious element of Japanese life - manners and traditions. And knowing this helps any tourist to understand a region like the Kii.

At the top of the Kii are the two great ancient cultural and religious centers of Kyoto and Nara, usually all that the Westerners see of this culture-rich region. In ancient times their chief asset was inaccessibility. Now, of course, they're easy to reach which is probably the reason why the rest of the Kii remains refreshingly innocent today.

The greatest temples and the most cherished shrines were located in Kyoto because it was inland and surrounded on three sides by mountains. During the periods of constant civil wars it remained Japan's most secure enclave. It was the capital of Japan for almost 1100 years beginning in 795.

Nara, to the south, is only 45 minutes away by train. It was the focal point for cultural activity beginning around 710 when the city was then called Heijo (Citadel of Peace). It was from there that Buddhism blossomed and today it's where the great Buddha, The Todai-Ji, sits - weighing 500 tons - and looks down with open arms to those who visit.

MIO MURA
The train from Osaka to the south of the peninsula winds along the coast past hills of orange groves, small villages, countless coves and shoreline inlets where not so long ago men would trap and capture whales. Like most things Japanese, the tradition of whale hunting dies hard.

From Gobo, a small farming community that survives on the employment of a local sawmill and by the vegetables grown on surrounding farmlands, it's a 10 minute drive into Mio Mura where a rocky point juts out on the south side of the sheltered cove that fronts the village. It's a good place to survey the surroundings.

Below the rocks, in the middle of the cove, divers come to the surface gasping air while depositing the cut of seaweed tips into a small, wooden punt. After a minute of rest while hanging onto the sides of the boat, the women disappear below the simmering surface.

Families often separated by emigration remain bonded by the ancient Japanese traditions of family home and by ashes that are entombed in the shrines located back of the Buddhist temple that sits on a knoll overlooking the village and the bay. Religion is so firmly rooted in Japanese culture it is impossible to separate the two. For the delicate flavor of Japan is due in large part to its religions.

One of the main industries in Mio Mura is wakame - black, noodle-like seaweed harvested in the harbor. When dried in the sun it becomes a very tasty dish. Other seaweed, called funoli, is also harvested here. When it dries it turns white and used commercially in shampoo and glue.

On the shore shrimp boats line the foreground of the village - lifeless hulks waiting, bows pointing seaward just below the village itself where it seems as though nothing has changed for centuries. It's a bit like walking into the movie set of Shogun.

But closer viewing reveals much more. The narrow "streets" that barely accommodate two people shoulder to shoulder, the drying seaweed in racks and on the beach, the temple and the Shrine, are the obvious features. But there's also one North American style house in the centre of town and virtually every rooftop has solar heating on rooftops. And, of course, there's the wind.

The wind is constant and though it never seems to disturb the sheltered water of the cove, it and periodic earthquakes cause havoc with the roofing. The average lifespan of a roof is two years. People, it seems, are always fixing their roofs.

SHIRAHAMA SPA
From the same rocky point that allows you to watch the sleepy village, with its centuries-old lifestyle, you can see across the expanse of ocean to Shirahama-Spa further down the coast. The spa is an incredible jewel of a place, glittering in its freshness and the good taste of its hotels, with the seeming limitless graciousness from everyone, door-openers to hotel managers.

The contrast between the two places reflects the multi-layered complexities of modern Japan. What Mio Mura offers in centuries-old atmosphere, Shirahama-Spa with its combination of white sand beaches, rugged rock formations, and magnificently clean hotels, gives opportunity to luxuriate in contemporary life styles as well as traditional pleasures and arts. And the contrast is no accident.

Population and growth in Mio Mura is strictly controlled. It's a living museum site of about 2000 population. The only obvious evidence of 20th Century incursion is the one road splitting the village and winding up the hill to the lighthouse that marks the entrance into Osaka Bay.

Mio-Mura sent the first Japanese immigrant to North America - Manzo Nagano traveled in 1878 to Vancouver. Because of that and because of the numbers of villagers who have since lived in Canada and along the west coast of the United States, Mio is often called American Village. And it is often listed that way on tourist maps.

THE SPA
Men and women wash and change in their own locker areas and then meet in the communal bath, a large marble room which in this case was so steam filled you can barely see anyone. Soon the great North American inhibitions melt away in the bath and you accept it for the relaxation the incredible heat brings to your now tired body.

There are places along the edge where, if you choose, you can douse yourself with ice cold water, a process recommended only for those with steel nerves and a strong heart.

Shirahama provides the entertainment, luxury living and relaxation you expect from any top resort area. The downtown centre has countless shops and good restaurants, though hotels provide breakfast and supper as part of the tariff.

There is a long, white sand beach, boat excursions to view the coral and divers. Further down the coast are resorts just like it at Wakanoura, Ryujin, Tsubaki and Katsura. But Shirahama is recognized as one of the best spas in all Japan. And it has the added attraction of being on the same peninsula as the two great culture centers of Kyoto and Nara. And scattered throughout the peninsula are ethnological treasures, temples, shrines and rugged physical beauty.

Like all great adventures, finding the essence of Japan's culture has pitfalls - mainly language difficulties. But touring the Kii is worth every moment of linguistic insecurity and the countless mistakes you'll make along the way. It is, simply, the real Japan - the one you thought you'd never find.