Where the Dead Pause, and the Japanese Say Goodbye: A Journey (81 page)

When we stepped out of the car onto the parking lot at Kaiz
ji, I smelled an intensely sweet odor. It was so strong, I looked around for the source of an artificial deodorant.

“It’s just
kinnmokusei
.” My mother pointed to a tree covered with little orange blossoms. “This is the smell of autumn.”

On the edge of a rice paddy, a chestnut tree dropped a few nuts on the ground, and my son ran to pick them up.

A
T 8:00 A.M.
a group of children walked up to the temple’s main gate. They were dressed in white, purple, and red silk outfits, and wore golden headdresses. They are called Chigosan in Japanese, and are the children who take part in a Buddhist or Shint
ceremony. Children in Japan are believed to occupy a state in between adult
life and death, and they were once considered able to communicate with the gods. Their participation now is a nod to a very old tradition in Japan, but it is still seen as bringing good luck to any important festival.

While I admired the children and took a few photos, someone called out, “Hey! I know you!”

It was the mother of the little boy my son had played with at the Minamisanriku temporary shelter a few months earlier. We exchanged pleasantries, and I asked about Hina’s family. “Everyone is doing much better,” she said. Then we entered the temple for the formal ceremony.

The rest of the morning unfolded over several hours and involved much chanting and drum pounding and at least two hundred people. Kaneta’s oldest son, Taik
, participated in one part of the morning, the
hossenshiki
, which in English is often translated to “combat dharma ceremony.” It is a ritual that all Zen Buddhist priests must undergo.

The “combat” isn’t physical, though the person undergoing the ceremony holds a bow. The true conflict comes in the form of questions and answers, which are pre-scripted, but nevertheless give the young priest a chance to show off his command of the Zen canon. The questions and answers are shouted, and to the untrained ear, you might think you were listening to soldiers at a military boot camp and the equivalent of “Sir! Yes, Sir!”

The questions cover the basic territory of Zen: What is zazen? Who was D
gen? How might one become enlightened? Most dharma combat ceremonies use a script, and the initial “combat” between Taik
and the other young priests who had volunteered to take part in the ritual involved questions usually used in such situations. But then a curious thing happened.

A key role in the
hossenshiki
is played by a young child who will
one day be a priest. That day, a ten-year-old boy on the premises shouted questions to Taik
. Among them was this: “How do you propose to help the victims of the tsunami?”

Taik
, an extremely handsome young man who was seated in his black robes, with his posture perfect and his hands sturdily holding a bow, replied, “I will do everything I can to help them with their tears! I will listen, and I will help them until they are no longer crying!”

“And what will you tell the people who lost someone in the tsunami about their loved ones? Where do the dead go?”

Taik
broke from his posture and touched his chest. “The dead remain in our hearts. That is the only place we will find them and the only place to look.”

Around me, the women dressed in black who had helped to grease the gears of the ceremony—giving tea and ripe persimmons to priests—were crying. I was crying too. I was deeply moved to see a young person like this, so committed, and so intent on taking care of all of us—especially the older people—who had been touched by grief. Taik
’s attitude had been honed by his father, and by his grandfather, whom I also met that day. Kaneta’s father was in his eighties, but he spoke to me about his desire to help the world to understand Buddhism, and how he gladly brought foreigners and scholars into his home to share with them whatever he could.

Taik
’s conviction was sincere, and all his own. His forceful declaration was a moving reminder of my own age and place in the succession of generations.

I
SPENT SOME
time with Kaneta and his family after the dharma combat ritual. Their temple, Ts
daiji, or “Temple of the Great Way,” is located in Kurihara. Before the tsunami, Kurihara had the unfortunate
distinction of having the highest suicide rate in all of Japan, and Kaneta devoted his energy to suicide prevention. After the earthquake, he turned his attention to the victims of the tsunami.