Siddhārtha

Prairie Post (Today from Fukuoka)

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Prairie Post

March 11, 2014

(Today from Fukuoka)

The first signs of spring are here, in this harbor city that finds itself closer to Korea than to Tokyo.  The temperature has been climbing steadily and the first fruit trees are blooming.  “Two more weeks, and everything should come into flower,” is what they are predicting.  The sky is blue and there are small waves on the Sea of Japan, glistening and reflecting the bright sunshine. Centenarians write poetry in calligraphy about such scenes, short sentences that capture the moment,

 

“The blue sky hangs over peaceful landscape, charged with busy people.”

 

This city is authentic, not inundated by sightseers; it is a city with people who live here, shop here, work here.  There is a genuine flavor about this port town, the Dutch and German influences are still visible in words and with bakeries and butchers, and they serve coffee with braunem Sirup and decorate spaghetti with Bierschinken. It is a welcoming city, open to guests and proud of their own.  They gather at Tenjin for a good meal or outside in one of the Yatai “tents” that offer a quick meal to anybody who likes to stop by after work.  Anyone is welcome to join: etiquette requires one to talk to those in the next seat.  The city shares its space with Hakata, the city on the other side of the river. There the merchants reside, while in Fukuoka the Shogun warriors once lived.

 

In late spring and early summer, they get ready for the annual festival in which seven teams in white shirts and questionably brief thong “shorts” compete in running a statue built on a wooden platform.  Hundreds of people throw rice and water and the entire city appears to be involved in the race or at a minimum are there to cheer on the rival teams.  Weeks before the festival, the populace prepares with great anticipation. Saki-san also had been heavily involved for many years, until she was almost 100 years old.  She used to own a restaurant and was responsible for cooking the rice to feed her team.  Now Saki spends most of her time taking care of her own affairs; every night she makes sure to have her rooms cleaned up, she may not wake up the next morning, she thinks, and she does not want to leave untidiness behind.

 

Saki talks to a group of longevity researchers who are in town to hear about her secrets.  Perhaps Saki’s secret is to keep her room cold, she does not worry about things, and she is grateful for the care she receives from her children.

 

“When I need care, I know my daughter is here, and for that I am grateful.”

 

Kokoro-san also appreciates the care she receives from her daughter.  At 102, she sits upright in her bed with her daughter right behind her, supporting her physically and emotionally.  Kokoro displays a disarming smile, one that connects to others, a smile that does not display affection but that does demonstrate amiability.  Nobody ever gets upset about her; she is called “Mother” by everybody in this care facility.

 

“You can’t upset my soul or my heart, I will smile, thankful that I am…”

 

Noburu-san also gains the respect of others in this care residence.  He resolutely walks the hallways every day before breakfast and dinner, because he needs to keep up with the physical demands of the day.  He enjoys examining maps, mostly of Japan and Korea, and he remembers his younger days in the navy.  Noburu takes care of his younger wife who also resides in the facility.  He is concerned about the deterioration of her memory.  “Perhaps we should have stayed longer at home,” he observes.  His wife might not have deteriorated so quickly then.  She is his only concern, as for himself, he feels quite robust.  When asked about advice to today’s generation, Noburu reflects for a moment and responds, “Everyone should get a good age.”

 

“Life is short, so live every day, every week, and every year.”

 

The research team sorts through the many longevity clues they receive, they drive from the city to the shore, from small town cafes to countryside restaurants to seek the fountain of youth.  They eat nabe and drink sake, they eat sashimi and steaki and tonkatzu. And when the work is done, they tour the local temple, observe the large sitting Buddha’s intense eyes, they watch weavers, stop at Zen gardens, visit the castle of Kumamoto, and approach Mount Aso, the active volcano in the region. They find a glimpse of the first of the seven lucky gods, Fukurokuju, the god of happiness, wealth and longevity, and they reflect on short poetry:

 

“The Plum Tree in front of the gate is pleasing during the morning light…”

 

Here, centenarians sing wedding tunes just for comfort before going to bed and practice their calligraphy so the lines are as beautiful as the words they express.  Centenarians thrive in this city, here, where people are genuine, where Buddha is revealed from temple to temple, and where centenarians write poetry, one kanji at a time.

Prairie Post (this time from Hong Kong)

by

Prairie Post

5-10-11

(this time from Hong Kong)

It is hot in this town, very hot and very sticky.  The mountains calmly compete with skyscrapers for height and splendor. Thick clouds move steadily between these man-made and nature-made giants.  Nobody here seems to mind the oppressing weather, people are surrounded by the South Asian Sea; salt water must flow in their veins.  They don’t need rain; they have enough humidity filling the space around them.

Space is always on their mind, here is this city of seven million, space is essential.  Here, they tear down 20-story skyscrapers so that they can replace them with 40-story skyscrapers.  The only way to create real estate is to move vertically. People live in small compartments, people work in small compartments, people move in small compartments.  Space is the most precious commodity here.

Space is also important to Philippine workers who have a day off and find their gathering place on the sidewalks.  They meet with family and friends and orchestrate the largest picnic festival in the city. No matter the weather, it is time to gather for this hard-working ethnic group.

Living space consists of a double bed and a small two-foot space from bed to window.  Two people cannot move in this space at the same time, unless they also move vertically over bed and over chairs and over suitcases.  Space is the issue here in this metropolis. The sea of skyscrapers make up an amazing community of illuminated buildings, most arranged in feng shui fashion, some violating this oriental form of architecture. This ancient belief in aesthetics negotiating between heaven and earth is visible everywhere, balance between wind and water, all to improve life in positive ways.

Feng Shui did not matter to a those older people who used to live in wire cages. No other place to live, until the Helping Hand came to the rescue and built decent housing.  Now they cheer on visitors, they are eager to show off their volunteer activities.  They live four to five people to a room, they have few of their own belongings, but they happily play mahjong, four people to a table, with shuffled tiles, with strategy and a little bit of luck.

Siddhārtha Gautama did not believe in luck, he considered belief in luck to be low arts.  His image overlooks the mountains here in the backyard of the big city.  His smile comforts, projects harmony and good will. A small hike from the cable car station, following chants in the background of the monastery and stairs that seem to lead to the sky in which the master appears to dominate.

A small fishing village is situated just down the road. Metal sheds built on stilts, seemingly floating in the bay area.  All streets here point to the market, open spaces filled with the scent of fish, some dried, some alive in water, all ready to be sold. Older people work in these shacks, live in small quarters behind. Their lives are connected with other family members and the community.

Older people also run the Ginkgo restaurant, a small venue on the main island. Septuagenarians cook the meals, octogenarians serve food with a sly smile on their face; they take care of any of the costumers’ needs. They quietly protest mandatory retirement in many other jobs, show their reliable service. The older generation wants to preserve the ways of the past.

The younger generation has different ideas about their future.  They don’t plan to have children because it is too expensive – who can afford the education of children when you can’t afford to pay your own rent. Chinese women from the mainland, however, visit here to bear their children – seven days are allotted for these unforeign foreigners.  If Chinese children from the mainland see the first light in Hong Kong, they will become residents.  Other Chinese residents need to invest millions of dollars into real estate to become residents. Because so many persons from mainland China became rich so quickly, the Hong Kong government needed to raise the investment limit by several million of Hong Kong dollars.

Shopping remains an adventure in this part of the world.  How about a discount?  They are willing to lower the price, perhaps, and they smile, smile, and smile until the price offered is too low for comfort… no, no, no, 210 Hong Kong dollars is simply not enough. But what if the tourists leave, what if they don’t return, it is time to finish the deal at 220 dollars. It’s the first sale of the night, so they will allow a special discount, or so they say.

This major city on the south end of China is a city of delightful dishes. Dim Sum, the traditional, especially prepared, the vegetarian home-cooked meals eaten in the temple, the tea time at the Peninsula, the goose in Soho, the noodles, the rice, and the fish, and finally the longevity buns and the mango pudding.  This is a city of oriental taste and breathtaking smells. Pick up the sticks and come on in!

People move up the escalator, still the escalator, and still the same escalator.  It’s the only way to climb these steep hills.  They move down to the underground, a most efficient underground, they move to the ferry and off the ferry.  Transportation is vital, transportation is efficient. Hong Kong, a lively place, here, where the people keep moving, where space is cherished and where everybody spends time at the harbor to capture the magnificent skyline of this vivacious city.