Tag: noro

Amami Oshima (Part 1)

The Amami islands lie between Kyushu and Okinawa. Though technically they belong to Kagoshima Prefecture, they have more of the feel of Okinawa. There are five inhabited islands in the  archipelago, of which Amami Oshima is the biggest. Total population is around 70,000.

Offerings to a tree spirit. Simple, direct, genuine.

Together with Tokunoshima and Iriemoto in Okinawa, the islands are working towards World Heritage status for their subtropical evergreen broad-leaf forests, boasting endemic and endangered species. These came about because the islands were separated from Japan and the Asian mainland some two million years ago, and were warmed by the Kuroshio current coming from the south and bringing monsoon winds and relatively high amounts of rain. These special conditions led to unique life forms, giving rise to the expression ‘the Galapagos of the East’.

In previous postings Green Shinto has taken an interest in Okinawan religion because of the feeling that there is something older, more direct and more essential about the spirituality. There’s a sense of practices stretching back to ancient times, when creation myths tell of founding forefathers arriving from the south. As in the rest of Japan, ancestor worship is merged with animism, but unlike modern Shinto, female shamanism has managed to survive here, bucking the trend of a male priesthood and Meiji-style uniformity.

History

30,000 BC – Evidence of human habitation
1440-1609 – Ryukyu rule (under the sway of Okinawan kings). Hereditary noro priestesses.
1609-1871 – Satsuma rule; introduction of Zen by samurai ruling class in Kagoshima
after Meiji – incorporation into mainstream Japan

From 1440 Amami came under the sway of the Ryukyu Kingdom, and its religion took on the Okinawan style. This involved noro (female ceremonial priests), who were appointed by the state and were chosen from among the female dependents of administrative officials. In other words, they were the wives or daughters of representatives of the state, and the office was passed on to their descendants. The noro still exist, though shorn of any official status, and carry out six great ceremonies a year.

There’s a touch of Siberian shamanism about some of the matsuri in the islands.

Along with the noro were shamanic females known as yuta. These women had a more personal role, offering psychic services such as divination and counselling. The idea was that being possessed, they spoke with the voice of the spirits. In other words, the yuta became the medium through which the will of the kami was transmitted, and masks worn in ceremonies signified the transformation. Interestingly, the yuta are addressed as kami, and the person to whom I was introduced was called Sakai-gami (please see Part Two).

Near the airport is the informative Amami Park, with hands on exhibitions about the islands (as well as a memorial museum for the astonishing artwork of Tanaka Isson). Watching the video of the various matsuri, I couldn’t help but be struck by the similarities to Siberian shamanism. Insistent drumming; grotesque masks; frenetic circling by participants. Mindful of the physiognomy, one can’t help feeling that it was here that northern style shamanism must have merged with currents from the south.

Shrines and temples
Drive around the island and you will be struck by the sorry state of the shrines on the one hand, and the relative absence of Buddhist temples on the other. The latter has a simple explanation. Following the Meiji Restoration, Shinto was declared the official religion and an anti-Buddhist campaign launched, known as haibutsu kishaku (abolish Buddhism and destroy the Buddha). Wikipedia states that between 1872 and 1874 eighteen thousand temples were eradicated, and maybe as many again from 1868 to 1872.

A noro has red points applied to her cheeks, a means perhaps of keeping evil spirits at bay

From what I could learn, Shinto is not much practised, and the only shrine with priests is Takachiho Jinja in Naze City. This helps explain why other shrines are so neglected, and I had the feeling that having been introduced in Satsuma times, the religion had not taken root. Locals I talked to said that though each area or community had a shrine, they were only used once a year for the annual festival. This was held under the auspices of the village elder.

As in Okinawa, one had the feeling that ancestor worship remained the rockbed on which the island spirituality was based. Villagers apparently visit family graves every month on the 15th. Though modern cemeteries contain standard Buddhist graves, in the past the practice was to leave bodies to rot in places already strewn with family bones. You can hardly get closer to your ancestors than that.

Asked about religious practice these days, I was told that new religions such as Soka Gakkai and Tenri-kyo had made inroads as had Catholicism. Underlying them though were the old ways, and there were  places on the island known since ancient times as sacred. There were spiritual ‘wise women’ too. And so it was that I gained the telephone number of Sakai-gami, a yuta with a high reputation in the north of the island. Part Two tells of our encounter.

*************

For a report on Miyako Island, see here. For the first of five pieces about Okinawa, see here.

Amami folksingers, grandmother and granddaughter, who proved useful informants about the island religions

A puzzling monument, described in a pamphlet as marking the merger of the island myth with Tenson Korin (Shinto myth). No explanation as to why or when. The sign itself simply says, “Ayamaru Misaki, one of ten Amami beauty spots’.

The sorry looking entrance to the Haiden of Itsukushima Shrine, typical of the state of shrines generally.

Amami Oshima’s main shrine – Takachiho Jinja. The office was closed and there was no priest to be seen.

Offerings to an invisible life force.

Masks worn in one of the island matsuri. Spirit possession?

A guest house with a sense of humour. Ama terrace – Amaterasu.

The sacred hill of Ogamiyama, from which yuta draw water for purification. Was it the shape that made the hill special, or was it the view over the sea from which forefathers came?

A local villager explains about the sacred water emanating from Ogamiyama, used still today for purification by yuta before their rituals.

Okinawa 5: Seifa Utaki

Opening into a sacred world

 

Seifa Utaki is the Ise of Okinawa.  It’s a sacred site associated with royal patronage that lay at the apex of the Ryukyu kingdom’s religious structure.  I think of all the spiritual places I’ve visited in Japan, this is the one that speaks to me most clearly of ‘a natural religion’.  It’s as if nature herself had carved a cathedral out of sacred rock and subtropical forest.

Nature itself adds decoration to the site’s surrounds

The site lies south-east from Naha, on the Chinen peninsula which is associated in mythology with the very origins of the country.  Legend tells of how the first of the islands to be created was that of Kudaka, which lies offshore from Seifa Utaki.  From there the gods proceeded to the main island itself.  No doubt there is some folk memory here of the arrival of ancestors from the southern seas, who settled first on the outlying island.  In such a way origins are made sacred.

In the past only priestesses could enter Seifa Utaki (the king and any workmen who entered had to tie their kimonos in female fashion).  At the head stood Kikoe-Okimi, a virgin relative of the king dedicated to the gods.  The system of Kikoe-Okimi was in effect from 1470-1869, during which time there was a total of fifteen in all.  They were responsible for divination and the great rites of the realm which ensured its stability and prosperity.  Like the Saio at Ise, the office is probably a legacy from the shamaness-queen who ruled the country in ancient times.

The Kikoe-Okimi lived not far from the royal palace, travelling along the coast to Seifa Utaki for important rituals.  Beneath her was a hierarchy of priestesses, starting with the noro who had control of up to five villages.  Other ranks included the yuta and kamichuu, responsible for such duties as divination.

Near the entrance of Seifa Utaki is a spring, where priestesses would purify themselves before entering the sacred precincts.  The  altars and different areas are named after rooms in the king’s palace at Shuri-jo, showing the close links with royalty.  The most holy part of the complex is a triangular opening. leading to s small altar space from which there are views of Kudaka Island.  It is as if an orifice opens up into a rock womb, offering a secret view of life’s origins.  Here in this innermost recess, the priestesses fostered the renewal and rebirth of the nation.

 

View towards distant Kudaka island, like a mirage on the horizon, mythic origin of Okinawa where the ancestors of ancient times first arrived

 

Unearthed items here include gold, celadon porcelain, coins and magatama jewellery, indicative of the precious offerings made.  Outside the triangular opening are two large stalactites, from which water drips almost imperceptibly into bowls placed below.  This liquid essence, wrung as it were from out of the very fabric of the rock, was considered holy water with magical qualities and used both for divination and in rituals to enhance spiritual power.

In Ryukyu times the site was a place of pilgrimage for king and commoner alike.  Still today worshippers come here to pray, and it is here too that the leaders of extended families pay respects on behalf of their kin.  Before the war the practice took place once a year, I was told, but now some only perform the ritual once every twelve years on completion of the cycle of the Chinese zodiac.

I was somewhat dismayed to find the atmosphere changed since when I last visited Seifa Utaki, with a welcome centre and guides in attendance.  Since it became a World Heritage Site in 2000, visitors have increased dramatically.  Now people walk around talking loudly on mobile phones, and parents yell out to errant children.

‘Seifa Utaki is a special sacred prayer site, not a tourist spot,’ said mayor Keishun Koya recently.  He has a good point.  One of the measures to protect its sanctity is to close it for six days a year according to the lunar calendar by which Ryukyu rites are fixed.  It will allow worshippers to pray in peace amidst the immemorial rocks.

What makes Seifa Utaki special is the sensitive interaction of natural features and spiritual expression.  Mystery, awe and wonder – these are precious feelings we’ve lost in the comforts of modern life.  They can still be found at Seifa Utaki however, if you take care to visit first thing in the morning or linger to the last in the evening dusk.  It’s at such times one can appreciate just why this was the Ryukyu’s ‘supreme sacred site’.  It’s special indeed.

Ufuguni, one of the altars which served for the preparation of food

Two stalactites that drip holy water into bowls placed below

The awesomeness of nature is ever present

Okinawa 4: Shrines

An Okinawan village shrine (photo in the Nakajin Castle Museum)

 

Different styles of village gathering places

 

At Nakijin Castle on the Okinawan main island, there is a museum with an exhibition of Ryukyu practices.  It includes pictures of kamiasagi, which are gathering places for religious ceremonies.  These are not to be confused with the more widely known utaki sacred sites.  So what’s the difference?

The utaki were special sites where the spirits dwelled or into which they descended. As such they were off-limits to ordinary folk: only the priestesses could go there for special rites.  These numinous sites were often copses or springs, far beyond the village boundaries.

The kamiasagi on the other hand were not hallowed ground as such, but places where gatherings could be held.  Since they were easily accessible by villagers, they acted as an intermediary point between the village and the sacred site.  Not every village had one, I was told, but most did.

In response to my question about how far Ryukyu religion was still being practised, the woman running the museum told me that ordinary people still continued former practices but that the noro (priestesses) were slowly dying out.  In her own village for instance, the noro was eighty years old and with no one likely to succeed her.

Once the noro had received an official stipend, but this had been stopped in Meiji times and now they had to make do as they could.   For the young it was not an attractive proposition, and the daughters of noro who used to take over the family tradition often choose to move away or take up other career paths.

All dressed up at Futenma Shrine for the 7 – 5 – 3 ceremony

But even without the noro, Ryukyu practices live on.  I came across an interesting example at Futenma Shrine, where 7-5-3 celebrations were in full flow.  which was established as an outpost of Honshu’s sovereignty in Edo times, dedicated to the Kumano kami, and is considered one of the eight major shrines of the Ryukyus.

While most visitors carried out prayers in the conventional Shinto manner, two locals squatted before the shrine and directed their prayers in a different direction.  It turned out that they were worshipping more ancient gods than those of the Jinja, for the shrine is built above an extensive cave (280 meters long), which was sacred to locals before the coming of the Satsuma invaders.

Eerie and atmospheric, the cave has a numinous quality that makes one wonder why it is kept locked up (you have to get permission from the shrine office to visit).  It’s used once a year for a ceremony at which some 800 people attend, and it honours two ancient kami, Megami and Sennen (The Old Mountain Man).

Megami was a beautiful but pious woman, who wished not to be seen.  However, the husband of her younger sister caught sight of her when he peeked into her house, as a result of which she rushed out and took refuge in the cave, never to be seen again.  (A very Taoist tale, methinks, with overtones of Amaterasu’s Rock Cave myth.)

The legend of Sennen, the Old Mountain Man, has to do with the incarnation of a spirit who visited a poor woman, whose life was one of sacrifice and deprivation.  As a test of her honesty, he gave her a wrapped item which he told her was valuable and asked her to keep it for him.  Despite his disappearance, the woman did all she could to find and return the item to him, as a reward for which he presented her with gold.  As a token of their gratitude, she and her husband built a shrine in the cave to the Sennen.

The cave, and the shrine above it, stand right next to the fenced gateway of the US military base at Futenma.  It’s an odd juxtaposition.  Here in a nutshell the history of the island is laid out, from the myths of Ryukyu times, to domination by Satsuma, to integration into Japan, and to American hegemony.

A shrine that speaks to another world turns out to have much to say about this world too.

The Futenma cave: a special space only opened on request  

Haunting and atmospheric: the Futenma cave is right next to the US military base

 

Meanwhile, above the cave the 7-5-3 ceremonies were being carried out in true Shinto style

© 2024 Green Shinto

Theme by Anders NorénUp ↑