Myoryu-ji
I really had no idea what I getting into.
I was just looking at the map while I rode the bus and saw, in very tiny letters, “Ninja-dera.”
Of course, I was curious.
And honestly? I was disappointed.
It was so small and unassuming! But I had come, and was there, so I might as well check it out.
“Do you have a reservation?”
“Uh--” No, of course not. Who needs a reservation for a temple? “No, I don’t.”
“Please go to the intercom,” the robed woman told me as she pointed to a corner with a small speaker.
I did as she said, and pressed the button.
“How many?” the speaker asked, after I made it clear that I didn’t speak Japanese.
“One.”
“How did you hear of Myoryu-ji?”
“Uh... the map?”
“How did you get here?”
“...Shinkansen?”
“Name?”
“Larisa Gonzalez.”
“Where are you from?”
At this point, I was just worried about giving the wrong answers. “USA.”
There was a pause before the voice returned.
“Gonzalez-san. No English. 14:30?”
That was only a few minutes away. At least I wouldn’t have to wait. “...okay?”
“Go to the door. Goodbye.”
“Buh...bye...”
I walked the 20 ft from the intercom to the door, stopping only to take off my shoes before entering. A woman in a smart blazer--strange in a sea of robes and komonos--approached me. “Gonzalez-san?”
“...Yes?”
“1,000 yen please.”
1,000 yen! I had never paid more than 500 for a temple, and most were free!
I paid, and she directed me inside. She indicated for me to sit down in front of an alter. “Be careful of the donation box. Do not step on it.”
I looked behind me. There was a long, deep donation box that was laid into the ground.
I sat there and waited for the tour to begin. It was a curious temple. The alter was beautiful, but fairly unremarkable among all the other alters I had seen the past month. I waited as other people sat around me.
Finally, the tour began. A woman began to speak in Japanese, and she handed me a binder. It was the entire tour, translated. She directed me to the first page.
Please do not step on the donation box.
I rolled my eyes. Yeah dudes, I got it. I won’t step on the box.
It is a false box. It is actually a pitfall used against attackers of the temple.
Wait. What?
Oh how I wish I could have taken pictures of this place. Myoryu-ji was a complete surprise. It turned out that this temple/fortress had nothing to do with Ninjas and everything to do with samurai. What seemed to be a two storied building was actually four floors, and seven “layers” within those floors. The place is a total maze.
The donation box/pit fall was just the beginning. There were hidden doors and stairwells. One set of stairs was designed to cast shadows so that defenders hiding underneath could stab attackers through the stairs. There were closets that, depending on how you opened them, would lead to different parts of the temple. Up, down, outside, if only you know how to access them.
We were carefully lead through the temple, up and down narrow stairwells and doorways, with occasionally warnings not to step here or there.
There was even a “death” room. In Japanese culture, four is an unlikely number. Its pronunciation is just like the word for “death.” In a room, you will never seen four tatami mats. Always 3 or 5. Except for this room. It was a room designed for a person to commit seppuku. A dishonored samurai would enter the room and close the door. The door would lock, trapping the person inside. It could only be opened from the outside. Then, the samurai would cut their belly open, killing themselves.
I’m saying guys, this place was crazy. I have no idea how I found myself in this place, but it was one of my favorite things in Japan. What a cool place.
The tour was about an hour, and had all sorts of neat little features. A well that lead to Kanazawa castle. A secret room for prayer on the ceiling of the alter room. I cannot recommend the place enough, if you happen to be able to spare an afternoon in Kanazawa.
No pictures inside, so this is all I got :(