The Tokugawa family is blessed with cats. Well actually, “blessed” may be a stretch; perhaps it is better to simply say that the Tokugawa family has cats, or the cats have us: probably the latter. Being for most intents and purposes, a Japanese family (despite the current separation of 8,000 miles), we have a certain cultural and religious involvement with the both Shintō and Buddhism. We observe the customs and traditions of both religions as do most Japanese; indeed, if you are born Japanese, you are pretty much born into Shintō and Buddhism: they are part of the Japanese tapestry. This involvement with the religions and traditions of Japan does not only extend to the human members of a family, but can, as we discovered, involve our animal members as well: as we recently found out.
As I’ve written in the past, Tajimi and the surrounding area is the capital of ceramic art and ceramic production in Japan. You may also remember that I mentioned once that the official mascot of Tajimi is a kappa. What’s more, perhaps appropriately, the first gift my bride Aoi gave me was a ceramic kappa, made in Tajimi.
Now, you may well ask, “What is a kappa?”A kappa (河童) or “river child,” also known as a kawatarō (川太郎 ) or “river boy” or kawako (川子) “river child,” is a legendary creature, a type of water fairy, or more appropriately a suijin or water kami (deity), found in Japanese folklore as well as the in the traditions of Shintō.
Most portrayals of kappa are as child-sized, human-like kami, although their bodies are often more combinations of those of monkeys and/or frogs rather than human beings, with thick shells a bit like those of a turtle, and scaly green, yellow, or blue skin. According to legend, kappa usually inhabit ponds and rivers in Japan and have physical features to aid them in these environments like webbed hands and feet. It is sometimes said that they smell like fish, in addition to being able to swim like them.
Tradition holds that kappa are generally mischievous or troublemakers; with their antics ranging from basically innocent jokes such as loudly passing gas or looking up a lady’s kimono, to being a bit more troublesome; such as stealing crops, kidnapping children, and the like. Some legends also say that small children are in fact, one of the kappa’s favorite meals, although they may, from time to time, eat an adult as well. Now you may well scoff at all this, but one should be aware that even today, in many towns and villages, there are signs along rivers, streams, and ponds warning of the presence of kappa! Obviously, someone considers kappa real enough to spend the money to post the signs. It is also said that kappa are afraid of fire and some villages hold firework festivals annually to scare the kappa away.
An old Japanese friend has provided me with this assured old Japanese method of escape if one is ever confronted by a kappa:
Kappa, for some reason which is unknown to me, other than they are truly Japanese, are obsessed with being overly polite. If one gestures in a deep bow to a kappa, because of the need to return the politeness and then some, the kappa can be tricked into bowing even deeper. When he does this, water, which is kept in a bowl that looks much like a lily pad on his head, will spill out and he will then be stuck in this bowing position until the bowl is refilled with water from the exact body of water in which he lives.
My friend also assured me that as legend has it, if the water is refilled by a human, then the kappa would serve them for all eternity.
Kappa as a rule are not really hostile towards men or women, or haven’t been until modern times, beginning with the Meiji Period. Rather, they are curious about Japanese and human culture, to the extent that they have learned to write and speak Japanese quite well. They also like sports and competitions; and will from time to time, challenge someone they meet to a game of shogi (which is like Western chess) or even sumo wrestling. Another legend says that kappa will even make friends with humans, especially in exchange for gifts such as cucumbers: the only food kappa are known to enjoy more than children! In many villages still, Japanese parents sometimes inscribe the names of their children on the skins of cucumbers and then throw them into “kappa-infested” waters in order to pacify the kappa and to allow the family to swim there.
Once someone makes a friend of a kappa, according to the stories, they have been know to be very helpful to their human friends. For example, they sometimes help farmers to irrigate their land. Kappa are also skilled at medicine and legend has it that they are the ones who taught the art of bone setting to the Japanese people. Because of this goodwill on the part of the kappa, some Shintō shrines have been dedicated to kappa that have proven themselves particularly helpful.
Now, how does this all relates to the Tokugawa family and Saitochan? Well, beside my futon, on a nightstand, sit three ceramic figures from Tajimi. One is a small ceramic kitty that looks quite a bit like the very glamorous and sophisticated kitty, Sumiechan. The other is a rather playful appearing dachshund which looks remarkably like the Tokugawa family dog, Tonochan. The third figure is that of the kappa, which Aoi sent me many years ago: her first gift to me. Saito has a problem, well actually several; but among them are his need to touch everything possible, to claim ownership of anything he wants, and to use whatever he wants as a toy. Thus, from time to time, the ceramic Sumiechan and Tonochan have disappeared in the middle of the night and turned up in Saito’s toy box or other secret hiding places for his purloined possessions.
Up until last week, the kappa had never been molested, played with, or taken. Then one night at about 2 am, I heard a dull thump. I got up with the immediate thought of, “What has that little four-legged gaki (brat) done now?” Ceramic Tono was missing (I found him two days later, buried under the futon’s wooden frame) and so was the kappa. There, on top of the large tansu chest (a stepped chest much like a Western dresser or “chest of drawers”) with a look on his face that said, “What? Why is it always me?” was Saito. Why indeed! On the floor, in front of the tansu, lay the body of the kappa, his right arm broken into two pieces. Now I strongly doubt that the kappa, in some mysterious way for some equally mysterious reason, took himself to the top of the chest and then ended his own existence by jumping off. Saito not only likes to touch things or carry them off, he likes to push things off wherever they might be: shelves, tables, cupboards, etc.
Up to now, you might well say that this is just another example of brat-cat mischief and you would probably be correct in your assumption; however, at that same time, over 8,000 miles away in Tajimi, a water valve broke in our Tajimi home and the resulting torrent flooded the laundry room, until Aoi was able to shut the water pipe off elsewhere on the property. Despite desperate telephone calls for help, no haikankō (plumber) could come to fix the problem. One would come, however, as soon as he could: an open-ended pledge.
The next day, the kappa, after my profuse apologies to it for Saito’s inconsiderate and painful (possibly) behavior, was repaired as best as could be accomplished. Have you ever noticed that once broken, things just never fit back together quite the same way again? Nevertheless, at that very same time, a haikankō miraculously appeared and fixed the broken pipe and valve at the Tajimi house.
It would certainly be easy to just attribute all of this to a bratty cat and coincidence; yet, we can’t help but wonder why, at the same time the kappa was broken, the water valve broke and flooded the laundry room, some 8,000 miles away in a town officially represented by a kappa? Why, at almost the same time the ceramic kappa was repaired, did the overworked haikankō (it was below freezing, snowing, and unprotected water pipes were breaking all over town) suddenly appear?
Aoi and I have been working on a project involving a new translation and interpretation of the Kojiki (古事記 ), or Record of Ancient Matters, the oldest existing recorded Japanese chronicles and foundation of much of Shintō’s beliefs and traditions. I’ve also been involved in editing some articles by Lafcadio Hearn on Shintō. Our combined experience makes us wonder if there is some connection beyond what seems obvious to Western eyes. Something tells us, even in modern Japan (and the West), the traditions and beliefs of that ancient religion cannot be pushed aside. Japan is just too mysterious a place for that.
Copyright 2010 by Hayato Tokugawa and Shisei-Do Publications. All rights reserved.
