The spirited city wilderness of Meiji Jingu

One of the stone arch bridges in the Meiji shrine's forest, with sunlight dancing on layers of dense greenery behind.

Wandering around the paths of Meiji shrine's forest, it is easy to forget that one is in the heart of one of world's busiest cities.

With its namesake Shinto shrine and the Gyoen imperial gardens incorporated in its vast area, this forest was created in honor of Emperor Meiji and Empress Shoken as a place for their souls to dwell in after they passed away in 1912 and 1914.

With 100 000 saplings of different varieties from all over Japan, the grounds were carefully planted by hand to form an eternal forest that recreates itself. Today, the saplings have both matured and reproduced, creating layers upon layers of luxurious green that reach to the sun and sway gently in the wind, muffling effectively the sounds of the daily Tokyo life around.  Edited as the forest is - most of the trees are pruned so skillfully that it takes a lot of observing to detect it - there is an air of remarkable tranquility, or even wilderness, while walking under the vast canopies.

According to Shinto belief Kami, the divine spirit, can be found in mythology, nature and in human beings. Rather generously, the number of these spirits is unlimited, which explains the many Shinto temples from the tiniest to the huge that form such an integral part of the Japanese landscape. With a magnificent resting place as this, I can imagine not just the Emperor's and Empress's souls wandering around the forest of Meiji shrine, but also countless little other Kamis fluttering around the sakura blossoms and newly sprung leaves of the Japanese maples.

 The inner yard at the Meiji Jingu (which means shrine in Japanese), with a large camphor tree on the left.

The Meiji shrine is a popular venue for Shinto weddings; while we visited, a wedding party entered the shrine, all dressed in beautiful traditional Japanese clothes. 

Another camphor tree, surrounded by a wall of prayers left by visitors.  

 

A teahouse in Gyoen, the imperial garden, with strictly pruned mounds of azaleas in front.

 

 

In the Azalea garden, large arching shrubs were already starting to bloom.

Emperor Meiji designed the Gyoen garden, and Empress Shoken enjoyed fishing in this large pond. I wonder how she fished - with a rod and worms? Somehow, a fishing Empress is a funny but quite sympathetic thought...

 

View from the further end of the large pond - with large Japanese maples sending out their delicate branches above the water.

The Iris Garden, containing over 1500 plants of 150 varieties in different blue shades... when in bloom in early to mid June, they form a river of flowers - surely an amazing sight that I would love to see one day. (mental note: would love to build a river of irises in my garden, some day.)

One of the walkways in the shadow of the century old, now mature trees of the Meiji Jingu's forest. 

 

A frozen morning by the Tokyo Imperial Palace

This double-bridge leads to the inner grounds of the Tokyo Imperial Palace, that is the residence of Japan's Imperial family. A large moat and high, meticulously assembled stone walls surround the palace grounds, the slightly concave form of the walls echoing the curved eaves of the roofs on the many buildings.

 

Just back from a short spring tour in Tokyo and Kyoto - a family such, not a dedicated garden one, which affects the catch of good pictures - being in the 'mommy mode' is not the most beneficial thing for concentrating on your own interests or artistic pursuits...

Tokyo Imperial Palace was one of our first stops, but the freezing weather of our first day stopped any further explorations than taking some very funny photos in front of it (not to be shown here...). Travelling away from the heat of Singapore really makes one freeze when exposed to colder temperatures, and as it was only +12 or 13 degrees, so our noses turned red directly and we left the gardens unvisited, opting for a hot chocolate instead. Luckily, better weather and more gardens were in store, so we didn't need to feel too sorry for ourselves.
 

Some cherry varieties were in the last days of their bloom, their petals already snowing out to the cold waters of the moat.

 

Anyhow, the goal of this trip was to give our girls a little intro to all things Japanese. I think we managed quite well, given the short time. Temples with their gardens, sakura gazing, Studio Ghibli Museum (of Totoro fame), Tsukiji Fish Market, street life, little soba and sushi shops, daddy's (my husband's - he grew up in Tokyo) old school and favorite park, and a trip with the shinkansen bullet train to Kyoto - all of them were experienced through their 10 and 12 year old eyes, minds and mouths, and found pleasurable, amusing and/or palatable. Mission accomplished, I think.

 

  

Glories of the morning

From my daily 7 am walk - coastal morning glories living up to their names.

 

Round Lugard Road, Hong Kong

Our long weekend in Hong Kong wasn't quite a garden trip, but we managed to squeeze some green between all the grey... Feeling like the ultimate tourists, we took the century-old Peak Tram, Hong Kong's number one attraction, up the steep hill to the highest top of the island. Probably needless to say, but the Peak platform was a shameless tourist trap, full of utterly unnecessary things being sold for rip-off prices. A quick walk through, and you are out in the green, at the narrow and winding Lugard Road that starts just below the Peak Platform.

 

The Peak offers an amazing view of just how congested Hong Kong is; small-town girl as I am in the bottom of my soul, I really don't get how people manage to live in these megacities. I love to visit, but after a couple of days I desperately crave fresh air and calm that would be very difficult to afford if living there... It was touching to see, how even in this extreme environment, people had carved their green spaces wherever they could: look at the top of the pink building and to the left of it, and you'll find a couple of (probably very windy) roof gardens on the top of them.

 

Anyway, the pathway around the hill top could never have felt more inviting than after the knick-knacks of the Peak Platform. From 1921 (see here for some wonderful old pictures of the construction phase - they weren't afraid of heights, those guys...), it was originally built as a promenade, with the sole function to provide a stunning view of the city, the harbour, and the surrounding islands. Needless to say, it still delivers; despite the vegetation that has filled the hillsides since the early days, this is still one of the best (or if you ask me - the best) place to view the city. The walk is about 3.5 km around, so a gentle stroll takes about hour and a half - as in our case, combined with a stop at the two playgrounds found on the hillsides. Below some snapshots - as usual when having my family with me, I wasn't alert enough with my camera, but hopefully they convey at least a little of how lovely this walk is - really recommended if you need some fresh air while in Hong Kong.

 

One of the viewing platforms, with an original concrete bench still around.

An old Indian rubber tree, first photographed from the way towards it, and after having passed it - with another tourist as a measuring stick showing its huge proportions...

 

  More jungle vegetation on the hillsides...
 

 And lastly, a view to the other side of the island, towards the archipelago hiding in haze. So peaceful, and just a couple of miles away from the beehive of the other side of the island. This is where I could think of living - in a little hut amongst the greenery with a sea view ... not so much to ask?

 

A psychedelic Heritage Tree

Mindanao gums, Eucalyptus deglupta, are native to Papua New Guinea.

 

I caught this amazing Mindanao gum this morning at the nearby Katong Park. It seemed to be burning in the warm morning light, its bark peeling like it wanted to throw off its clothes in the heat. Quite psychedelic.

 

As rock'n'roll as it might look, it is actually a Heritage Tree, one of the lucky ones to be included Singapore's eminent program for protecting especially "valuable specimens" -  with their worth calculated in terms of historical value, age, and size. This Mindanao scores on each of the criteria. Besides being over a century old and having a girth of over 3.4 meters, it is also historically significant, as it once grew at the Katong Fort that existed here during the British colonial days. The Fort is gone, the tree still stays.

 

There are currently 199 Heritage Trees in Singapore. Maybe I should go and portray them all?  

 

A soft cocoon on the Mindanao, the butterfly waiting to fly out from its shelter.

 

Back from grey to green

“There comes . . . a longing never to travel again except on foot.”

- Wendell Berry, Remembering -

 

Yet another flight... I'm just back from the concrete jungle of Hong Kong to the lush greenery of Singapore; my new hometown feels like a pretty country town in comparison.

 

With family and friends on several continents, I'll probably never be able to travel on foot only. So why am I writing about this? I'm not sure; the quote just came to my mind while sitting on the plane back home. I was thinking of Wendell's longing of not travelling anywhere but where you can go on foot; of being content with one's life as it is, and not always craving for more of everything - experiences, things, happiness. Or maybe he didn't even mean that? I don't know; I never read the whole book.

 

In my tangled thoughts, I felt him also talking about being closer to the ground and to the soil. Which is not what I do for the moment, living as I am in a high rise some 60 meters above the ground. Garden girl as I am, I need soil under my fingernails, and I need a garden to mirror continuous ebbs and flows of life. Needing an elevator to get to the ground is not for girls like me; I feel as misplaced as my potted plants, that quickly wilt away in the unrelenting sun without showers from my watering cans. Never to travel again except on foot would be unrealistic, but I should be able to get closer to the soil again. I just need to take one step at a time.

 

A rooftop oasis above the Buddha Tooth Relic Temple

The Ten Thousand Buddhas Pagoda with as many golden tiny sculptures representing the Buddha surrounds another, smaller pagoda (seen above), where a huge, enamel-gilt Vairocana Buddha Prayer Wheel is slowly turned around by the faithful. It churns out prayers to the gods up in the skies.

 

Last week, I had much longed for visitors here in Singapore. My sister and her youngest daughter spent their "skiing holiday" here in Singapore doing everything else but skiing, a sport so ingrained in the Finnish culture that even the winter school holiday is called after it. While exploring as much as possible of Singapore and its culture during this all too tiny length of time, we ended up at the Buddha Tooth Relic Temple in Chinatown. Built in Ming-period style and opened only in 2007, this eye-catchingly colorful and gilded (well, rather garish, really...) temple houses a revered relic said to be a tooth of Buddha.

Ferns, frangipanis and orchids - even a species called Dendrobium Buddha Tooth after the temple - fill the luxuriously green and shady rooftop garden, protected by the pagoda walls and roofs from all sides.

 

What I - and probably many other visitors - have missed during my previous visits is climbing up to the rooftop level of the building. Here, above the busy temple (where less wattage and bling would surely have been enough to make the gods equally happy), a roof garden with its lush, rich planting forms a calm and serene oasis to enjoy by the faithful and the tired wanderers alike. Palms, ferns, frangipanis and numerous varieties of orchids - even a species called Dendrobium Buddha Tooth after the temple - fill the luxuriously green and shady rooftop garden, gently protected by the pagoda walls and roofs from leaf ripping winds and stinging rays of sunshine. In my secular mind, a quiet contemplation of the tropical beauty of the plants should be as worthy as a prayer as any chanted in front of the gilded sculptures.

 

 

Haw Par Villa in Singapore - Tiger Balm with Chinese mythology

 Entrance gate to the Haw Par Villa, or the Tiger Balm Gardens as this park was called earlier - it would be quite impossible to miss the logotype tiger in the middle section...

 

Maybe I should start with a warning for ugly pictures. Or maybe not. As usual, it depends.

As I wrote earlier, we've been exploring the Chinese heritage of Singapore in preparation for the Lunar New Year celebrations for the sign of the Snake. Plants, foods, treats, decorations, traditions - all loaded with profuse symbolism - have been studied, tested and/or tasted, and found when not delicious, then at least interesting. Our first Chinese New Year celebration was completed by a trip to Haw Par Villa in southwest Singapore, a place where many Singaporean Chinese families spent their free days until a couple of decades ago.

 

 The Aw brothers welcoming guests to their gardens? 'Boon Haw' means 'gentle tiger' and 'Boon Par' 'gentle leopard', and even the supporting pillars carry their spots and stripes (the tiger hides behind the corner).
 

 Gong Xi Fa Cai - Happy New Year to you all! Entrance is free, and the park open from 9am to 7pm daily. Recommended for an imaginative stroll through Chinese mythology and legends.

 

Haw Par Villa has also been know by the name Tiger Balm Gardens, and both names act as a clue to the origins. This park-like complex was built in 1937 by Aw Boon Haw (1882-1954), a businessman of Chinese origin from Burma, for his brother Aw Boon Par (1888-1944). After settling in Singapore in 1926, both brothers ('Boon Haw' meaning 'gentle tiger' and 'Boon Par' 'gentle leopard') made millions by Tiger Balm, a hugely successful herbal rub their father had invented in the Chinese Emperor's court in the 1870s, before relocating to Rangoon in Burma. It was Boon Haw, who named the ointment for 'Tiger Balm', and successfully sold it to surrounding countries like Malaya, Hong Kong, Batavia, Siam and various cities in China, and later on to pretty much all countries of the entire world.

 Tigers in abundance, this fiery one is stalking a huge snake by the entrance.

 

I would have loved to have met Aw Boon Haw... a man who drove around in a tiger-mobile like this just must have been worth knowing! The car is a special built (talk about it...!) Humber from 1932. Mr. Boon Haw drove around with it not only in Singapore, but also in Malaysia and all the way up to China - what a sight in the streets & highways... His register plate carries a special lucky number, S.8989, as number 8 ('paat'  in Chinese) sounds very much like the word for 'prosper' ('faat'). It seems to have worked well for Boon Haw?

Aw Boon Haw's love for sculpture and his "flamboyant" sense for marketing led to the creation of this eccentric park, where he wished not just to entertain the Singaporean families, but also to spread the message of Chinese mythology, legends and culture, all rendered in garishly painted concrete. All in all, over 100 sculptures and 150 dioramas fill all nooks and corners of the hilly park. In the early years, the park was filled with visitors, but as time passed, the public's attention was driven to more modern entertainments. After years of slow deterioration, Singapore Tourism Board took over Haw Par Villa in 1988, and has since then led both operations and renovations of this quite bizarre attraction.

Entrance to the Ten Courts of Hell, one of the most original and gruesome displays in the park. It is a combination of Chinese folklore and Buddhism, and shows what supposedly happens to people after death. According to their beliefs only very few, completely pure souls enter the Heaven through the Bridge of Gold, and the rest wander through the Nine Courts of Hell where they pay for their crimes through horrendous punishments. After entering the Tenth Court a magic tea of forgetfulness is served, after which they can be born again as men or animals of different kinds according to their behaviour in their previous lives.

The severity of the crimes and punishments don't seem to have any correlation in my eyes - petty crimes, as "Disrespect to elders" and "Ungratefulness" carry as heavy punishments as murder and other horrors... (or maybe the senior audience disagrees here?).

"Misuse of books" and "Wasting food" lead to "Body sawn into two". Understandably the favorite sign of many parents - "Kids, eat your veggies", as one of my friends expressed it...

As I wrote in the beginning of this post, this is not a beautiful park; despite several mentions as a "garden", there were nothing but very plain, municipal-style plantings, with the addition of an odd pond or water feature. Many areas are (still?) in disrepair, colours of the sculptures are often bleached and flaking in the sun, and green lichen is growing on the pathways, and many of the information boards had surrended to a tropical decay afflicted by stinging sun followed by monsoon downpours.

A couple of pavilions, with Buddhas inside and on the top.

 

 

And what is the moral lesson of this? No English explanations, but it can't be his wearing turqouise underwear alone...

 

One of the more traditional legends? Unfortunately again without explanations in English. Chinese folklore, stories and beliefs related to the Buddhist  religion, and Taoist and Confucian philosophies mingle here gladly, so 'encrypting' the message takes some experience and knowledge...

I don't usually like things or places that feel too "artificial" - for example, I am happy to never (again) set my foot in Disneyland or other similar places - and Haw Par Villa is nothing if not artificial and commercial, made as it is to promote one single (rather smelly) ointment. But somehow it is so completely over the top crazy, that it becomes extremely interesting. Tons and tons of painted concrete covering acres of what could be beautiful jungle; it's just insane, and makes me wonder how Aw Boon Haw who created it really was as a person. Eccentric, flamboyant; yes, but also very proud -  maybe obsessed - of both his product, and of his own Chinese culture, and desperately eager to convey its myths and values to a wider public (actually, he didn't just build one in Singapore, but there were Tiger Balm Gardens in Hong Kong and in Fujian in China, too).

Are these some kind of guardians or just poor women transformed into crustaceans? 

Guys are not safe, either...

I would love to hear what Singaporeans of the early years thought of this park; did they enjoy the lessons like Boon Haw had wished? For a foreigner like me, the Haw Par Villa is an excellent place for some colorful lessons about Chinese culture, and I thank Boon Haw for his extravagant idea of building up the old myths and legends for us all to gawk at and wonder. To my surprise, my 10 and 12 year old girls loved the place too, skipping from one blood-curling scene to another, inspecting the sculptures and dioramas with a bubbling laughter (mostly in wrong places). I'm sure quite many of them stuck and made an permanent impression, which would probably have made Aw Boon Haw very happy. And myself, I'll never be able to go past a humble little Tiger Balm jar in the same indifferent way again.
 

 

 

Auspicious beginnings for the Year of the Snake

A dragon-heart mandarin is considered a doubly auspicious plant as its name combines dragon, a symbol for power, strength and good luck, and mandarin, which is a symbol for riches and good fortune. I couldn't resist it, so now it is bearing both flowers and fruit at the same time on my balcony. We'll see if any good luck and fortunes will follow!

 

On Sunday, February 10th 2013, Chinese people all over the world will say goodbye to the Dragon and welcome the New Year of the Snake, one of the twelve animals inhabiting the Chinese zodiac. While in Western Culture the snake often represents betrayal and evil, in Chinese culture it quite surprisingly is a symbol of wisdom and kindness. According to an old Chinese saying "A snake in the house means the family will never starve" - so the snake is seen as a good omen instead of a horrible pest (maybe it scared the rats away - who knows?). The shedding of snake's skin denotes renewal and rebirth in life, and it is believed that those coming in contact with a person born in the snake year will gain greater vitality and energy. In mythology, the snake represents healing and renewal, so the Year of the Snake is a good time for inward reflection and transformation through release of past blockages.

Small paper packets like these are used to give money as a New Year's gifts to children. In art, still lifes and other arrangements, mandarins and oranges add the meaning of "speedily"; I was told (I can't read or speak any type of Chinese) that with the characters of "luck" (left) and "good fortune, happiness" (right), mandarins add the meaning of "speedily". Mandarins of course, are themselves a symbol for riches and good fortune, and the left packet has even small gold ingots symbolizing wealth scattered around the mandarin fruit. Layers upon layers of meanings to be read, even in the most simple objects as these. 

 

The New Year is the most important traditional holiday for the Chinese all over the world, and and so for the large majority of Singaporeans who are of Chinese origins. Most families try celebrate the holidays together, often travelling long distances in order to do so. Countless traditions and customs are connected to this celebration: special foods are prepared for the different times and days of the holiday and houses are cleansed and the floors swept to drive away any lingering ill luck and to make way for good fortune. New clothes are worn to ensure a clean, new start for the year, presents are bought and given to ensure prosperous new beginnings, and firecrackers are fired to scare off the evil spirits. 

 

Chinese lucky charms are no just decorative... The charm in the left has a tiny glass "cabbage" in Chinese is a homophone to cash and money, and therefore symbolizes wealth. An old-fashioned coin above it adds to the auspiciousness. The second charm has a green and a golden mandarin with a gold ingot above them - both are symbols for riches, wealth and good fortune. The charm in the right has a gourd, which represents the power of healing or protection against disease. And the cloud pattern of the fabric under them is one of the oldest decorative motifs in Chinese art; clouds represent the heaven and the word cloud is homophone "good fortune" (are you getting exhausted by now...?)

 

Decorations for the Chinese New Year are important part of the celebration, and loaded with auspicious omens and symbols to entice the gods and to bring good luck, health and prosperity. Many of them have been chosen as their names are homophones for something desirable, like one of the most common, the mandarin. The Chinese character for mandarin consists of two components that mean "plant or tree", and "auspicious, lucky", so the mandarin is considered as an "auspicious plant" (the Western convention is to translate this to orange, but the plant the character really refers to is botanically a mandarin type of orange). And as if this would not be enough, both its golden color and round form are also considered propitious, and serve as symbols for riches and good fortune. I'm not a very superstitious person, but I went and bought three dragon-heart mandarin plants (including the one in the first picture), so there's should be no end to the auspiciousness in our lives in the coming year. May the Year of the Snake bring prosperity, luck and health to you all.

The local nursery has gone wild with all things orange... expensive arrangements with mandarins fill the ground; to the left, high mandarin plants have been trimmed into eight separate tiers (eight is a lucky number for the Chinese). The plants are decorated with red bows (color red is a symbol of joy and protects against evil), and with symbols for good fortune (fu is the Chinese character) and surplus (the fish, as in having enough to eat with leftovers). The paper pineapple lanterns are symbols for prosperity, and all shops have several of them hanging from the ceilings this time of the year to secure good profit in the coming year. Below, a sea of small mandarin plants - oh, the agony of choosing only one...

 

 

Longing for Mumtaz

The picture above is probably my favorite among the many that I took of Taj Mahal in Agra.

Hopeless romantic as I am, I've always found the love story behind the Taj touching. As you probably know, Mumtaz Mahal was the wife of Shah Jahan, the fifth Emperor of the Mughal Empire in India in the first part of the 17th century. She died while giving birth to their fourteenth child, but still managed to inspire her husband to build this shining mausoleum for her memory, filled with intricate stonework in white marble and precious stones depicting delicate flowers. In my eyes, it has always looked more suited for a young princess or empress, instead a a mother of fourteen (the whiteness, the flowers - somehow I connect them with a young bride more than middle-aged married wife...) - she must truly have been loved by him. The sad part of the story is that one of those children, a son who became Emperor Auranzeb, took power in 1658 and locked Shah Jahan into the Red Fort for the last eight years of his life.

I took these pictures from the balcony at the Red Fort in Agra (above) from where Shah Jahan was contained. This was the place he could sit and and look at Taj Mahal, his shimmering monument over Mumtaz and their mutual love and devotion, which he wasn't even allowed to visit. I do wonder what he thought of here in his sad containment, so close and still so far away, while grieving and longing for his favorite wife.