18 August
A volcano, seppuku and a tea ceremony
Once again there
was no scrambled egg at breakfast! The
waitress said it was very popular and always disappeared first. I asked why they didn’t make larger
quantities, and was told that if they did, people would leave the other
comestibles provided, which would be a waste.
Inscrutable, or what?
Anyway, after
checking out of the hotel, Yasuko’s mother picked us up and drove us down
to the ferry terminal. We caught the
same boat we had enjoyed the fireworks from last night. 
A short journey saw us
disembarking onto three-peaked Sakurajima, Japan’s most active volcano.
Sakurajima used to be an island, but was joined to the mainland by the
effluvium from the 1914 “Taisho” eruption. It must have been some eruption!
We drove to the Volcanic Institute visitor
centre and saw the displays and dioramas showing how volcanoes function and the
specific effects of the various eruptions that have taken place at
Sakurajima. There was a video
presentation, with an English commentary on the headsets provided. My headset – and no one else’s
– made the commentator sound exactly like Mickey Mouse, which was a bit
of a distraction. However, Mickey seemed
to know his stuff, and I feel fully clued up about vulcanology. At least, I know as much as I need to know.
We left the visitor
centre and drove up to the Yon-go-Mei, or Fourth Station, an observation base for
the volcano. As it was half way up the
sides of the volcano, and the limit beyond which no casual visitor may approach
the summit for safety reasons, it was extremely windy, with a gusting 40 mph
breeze. There was an excellent view of
the volcano, with a cloud of smoke lazily emerging from its currently single
active crater. We also had a fine view
of Kagoshima across Kinko Bay. As it was
so sunny, it was appropriate that we could see the Sun Royal Hotel, where we
had eaten so splendidly a couple of nights previously. We could also see Iso-ten, and, with the help
of binoculars, we could see Yasuko’s parents’ house. At least, Yasuko’s mother could
identify it, but we could at least see the general location.
We drove round the island and stopped at the Haragosha
Shrine. This is just by the school where
Yasuko’s grandfather had been a teacher for many years. The Shrine is remarkable for its buried
Torii.
On the day of the Taisho eruption in 1914
(the eruptions are named after the imperial era in which they occur) 11 feet of
ash rained down in less than eight hours.
Although over succeeding months most of the ash was cleared from roads
etc, the mayor of Sakurajima ordered that the ash at the Haragosha Shrine should
be left to indicate the extent of the eruption.
Hence only the cross-bar of the Torii pokes through the ash, and you can
sit on the top of the gate. Just round
the coast we had a fine view of the ash that joined the island to the mainland
in 1914.
Motoring on in an
anti-clockwise direction, we came back to the ferry terminal and had lunch in a
hotel just a little past it. Past the
terminal, I mean. It was by no means
past it: very modern and spruce. There
was an enormous grasshopper about five inches long on the glass of the panoramic
windows of the restaurant. Fed and
watered, we took the next ferry back to Kagoshima.
We then drove up to
the cave where Saigo Takamori had his headquarters during the abortive Satsuma
rebellion of 1877. Saigo Takamori is
sometimes called “the last samurai”
He
had risen from humble beginnings to be the commander of daimyo Shimazu’s
samurai. He was a wise adviser to his
master, and became respected by the other daimyo. He fiercely opposed the shogunate and in
1867, along with other disaffected samurai, staged a coup d’état to
install the Emperor as the effective power in the land. This became known as the Meiji restoration.
“Meiji”
means “enlightened rule”, and the emperor adopted the era name
“Nengo” in 1868. Takamori
was an active and enthusiastic participant in the new government systems and
was instrumental in bringing about needed reforms in education, communication
and government systems. However, in
1871, the Emperor abolished the samurai class in furtherance of the
reforms. Daimyo (feudal barons) had to
return land (and therefore power) to the Emperor. Both Daimyo and samurai were awarded state
pensions. As many as 8% of the
population of Japan were samurai or their dependants. The abolition of the class, with its many
privileges, gave rise to severe social problems, for the samurai knew only one
way to make a living: being enforcers for the daimyo.
In 1876, Saigo
Takamori had become disenchanted with the restored Imperatorium, and he retired
to Kagoshima, founding a military school teaching samurai skills and the code
of bushido. Thousands of other
disaffected samurai joined him and the so-called “Satsuma
rebellion” commenced. They started
to wage war against the Imperial forces.
In 1877, the battle of Satsuma took place. 40000 samurai, armed with swords, bows and
arrows, faced 60000 imperial troops equipped with firearms. Despite Takamori’s great generalship
and the samurais’ disciplined fighting skills, the result was inevitable. Takamori’s men were routed, over 20000
of them being killed in a bloodbath. It
was a clash between ancient and modern, old technology and new, the modern
world against feudalism. The defeated
Takamori was wounded and, in accordance with the code of bushido, the last of
the samurai committed seppuku.
Subsequently, in a
skilful political manoeuvre, the Emperor pardoned Saigo Takamori posthumously,
thus clearing the way for him to be considered a great national hero. 
He is seen by
the Japanese as embodying the unique Japanese concept of wa, the
fullness of Japanese character and spirit.
We then drove to
the top of Shiroyama, the big hill behind Kagoshima, where there is a splendid
view over the city, with the shimmering blue waters of the bay and Sakurajima
the backdrop.
From there we drove
down to the Museum of the Meiji Restoration.
We were in
time to see mechanised tableaux of the history of the restoration and the
central part played by men from Kagoshima and the Satsuma region. The whole thing was in Japanese, but it was
fascinating to see the clever way that the characters rose into view, and the
skilful lighting. I recognised Saigo
Takamori!
In the museum,
there were interesting items relating to the 18 young men despatched to England
by Lord Shimazu to learn western manufacturing techniques. These led to the establishment of the blast
furnace and foundry at Iso-ten, the start of Japan’s industrial
revolution. There were also photographs
of Takamori and many other notables involved.
They all had a stern, not to say constipated, expression.
Leaving the museum,
we drove to Yasuko’s mother’s house. There (shoes off) we were greeted by her
father and taken into the tatami-ed room where he was watching baseball on the
television. In an alcove, our
autographed cricket bat had been hung.
Yasuko’s mother and grandmother bustled about, bringing us beer
and rice crackers. Later, she brought us
a special sort of cake made from “anko”, or red bean paste. She expected us to find the taste inimical to
our western palates, but I found it quite pleasant. We were then brought some
green tea, made in the tea-ceremony method.
Val (who drinks tea but never coffee) pulled the expected
“Yuck!” face, to the amusement of the family. I, on the other hand, found it pleasant and
flavourful, if unusual in “texture”. (This is surprising, since I do not normally
like the taste or the aroma of tea.)
The two ladies
demonstrated how the tea is made.
“Match-cha” (powdered tea) is used, and water considerably
below boiling point. It is whisked with
a special bamboo whisk that looks rather like a shaving brush, and presented in
a bowl. In the full ceremony, the
drinker first admires the bowl by turning it three times before drinking the
tea. We did not have to do that, and
simply drank the tea. I had, for three
months prior to visiting Japan, limbered up in the tea drinking stakes. I do not drink “English” (black)
tea, finding, since I gave up sweetening my hot drinks 30 years ago, the
flavour and aroma coarse and astringent.
I always prefer coffee. But I
bought some Japanese (not Chinese!) green tea and had a cup at the middle of
each morning. Japanese green tea
(sencha), drunk without additives, has a mild aromatic flavour that is much
fresher and less “muddy” than black tea. By this means I prepared
myself for this moment. The tea we were
presented with was opaque, green, frothy and at drinkable temperature. This last is important, for I (in common with
Stephen) suffer from what the Japanese call “Neko jite” or
“Cat’s tongue”. In
other words, I cannot bear food or drink that is excessively hot. As I said, the tea was pleasant and, well,
green-tea-like. I would be happy to
drink it again.
I was introduced to
Milk-chan, Yasuko’s aged cat. We
got along fine. Most cats take to me,
and I am their willing servant. Japanese
cats have very short tails, said to be caused by inbreeding and isolation. They say that the further south in Japan, the
shorter the cats’ tails.
Too soon it was
time to leave for our flight. The
weather was changing, and there was a report that a typhoon was about to strike. We waved farewell to Yasuko’s maternal
forbears and Nagayama-san drove us to the airport. We boarded the last flight to Tokyo, amid
fears that the typhoon would keep the plane grounded. However the flight was uneventful though a
little bit bumpy. I wrote some postcards
and, thanks to the bumpiness of the flight, they looked as if I had had taken a
little too much schoshu. We eventually
rolled into bed at 2.45 am.