Well, they’re back. The dead that is.

     The Erie cries of disembodied spirits, the labored breathing of terrified believers and the haunted tales of magic and mayhem that simmer just below the surface of an otherwise placid Japan are seem to rise from the earth every year at this time. They are conjured by circles of fire-lit dancers, by strange shamanic music and by the imaginations of millions of ghoul-loving Japanese. Welcome to Obon.

     Obon festival season, a commonly accepted “twilight time” in Japan, affects almost everyone in Japan in some manner. This festival period,  which occurs in the last half of August, seems to be older than anyone can date and commemorates the time when the “veil between the worlds of the living and the dead” are parted and one’s ancestors return to earth and commune with their living relatives. In this it much resembles the ancient Western festival of Samhain, what is known today as Halloween. The difference is that while Halloween is more or less a shadow of what it once was, the celebration of Obon in “modern Japan” still consists of the spirits of the dead being greeted with strange dances and rites. 
 

The most famous of these, the circular dance called “Bon Odori,” is a lively entertainment that conceals an ancient and spooky ritual. The original object of “Bon Odori” was to call forth the shades of departed relatives so participants could dance with them, that is why everyone dances alone. If you carefully watch the more dedicated dancers, you might see an otherworldly gleam in their eyes, who knows what (or who) they are seeing? Many a strange “ghost” picture and odd phenomena has been recorded around Bon Odori circles. During Obon it is also traditional for the family to visit the ancestral “Haka” or grave. Here are usually interred a large number of the relatives. The grave is cleaned and the departed's favorite sake, cigarettes or food are offered along with the more common flowers, incense, mekans and mochi sweets. The families that remember the older traditions also make a small horse doll out of eggplants and place this on the grave. This is so the spirits of the dead may use it to ride back to the material world and visit!     Though it is nice to visit with those long gone, keep them up to date on the family and ask for some help, it is also a good thing that they don’t hang around too long. Japanese legends abound with horror stories of ghosts that decided it was better to stay than to return to the realm of the dead. So, at the end of Obon season, great bonfires are built to help send the ghostly visitors back to the beyond.

Bon Odori.

Bon Odori - Trance.

But, of course, this doesn’t always work.      And sometimes the dead come back on their own accord, or so numerous Japanese tales, both ancient and modern, tell us. Most Japanese when questioned about things spiritual will shrug off ideas concerning religion, but ask about ghosts and more often than not you will find a number who believe, and some who have even seen.      If you pursue the subject, one ghost will assuredly be mentioned, and that ghost is Oiwasan.

     Oiwasan was a beautiful woman who lived in what is now the Yotsuya area of Tokyo, then called Edo. She resided quite happily with her handsome Samurai husband several hundred years ago. Though she was sweet and pretty, her family was not wealthy and therefore her husband gained very little financially from the marriage, though for a time, love was enough. Yet, sadly to say, samurai received very little in the way of financial reward for their undying loyalty towards their lord and it was not long before Oiwasan's husband was attracted to the lovely daughter of a wealthy merchant family. She quickly fell under his spell and agreed to marry him. A marriage to her would be very advantageous indeed, but one obstacle remained. One night he put a particularly horrible poison in Oiwasan’s food. Not only did she die a painful and violent death, but the poison hideously disfigured the right side of her face. He quickly disposed of the body, some say down the well, and wasted no time in marrying his new wealthy bride. All went well for a time until Oiwasan’s vengeful apparition began to appear in the yard of the house, crying and howling. For many nights this torment continued until, one night, the samurai could stand it no more and, grabbing his sword and rushed out of the house in anger and horror. There before him was the ghost of the wife he murdered, her evilly twisted face shining in the moonlight. He yelled, advanced and swiftly struck the spirit down. There she lay, at his feet, truly dead! He reached down, rolled her over and screamed with terror. There was the dead body of his new wife who had brought him so much wealth, still dripping blood from his sword cut. Oiwasan never appeared to him again, one assumes that she had obtained her revenge. Yet the ghost of Oiwasan apparently did not find peace. Many people in Tokyo claim to have seen a beautiful woman in white wandering the streets at night, her long beautiful hair covering the right side of her face. After she approaches them she suddenly reveals the twisted scarred side of her face and disappears laughing as they run in terror. 

     Aside from numerous sightings of her over the many years since her murder, there are the odd happenings surrounding the films made about her. Her story, of course, is perfect for a horror movie, therefore it is not surprising that four movies have actually been made around Oiwasan, each of them called “The Yotsuya Story.” They were made at various intervals over the last fifty years, but the most famous version was filmed in the early 1950s. Each of these productions had a number of mysterious problems on and off the set that were both major and minor; several unexplained fires, a number of mechanical failures, film that disappeared or was oddly exposed and so on. A few people actually got hurt in weird and inexplicable accidents that scared everyone and soon made the news. These things stopped when the cast, crew and actors (especially the actress who played Oiwasan) went to her shrine in Yotsuya and paid homage. The last of these dramatic “movie hauntings” was only a few years ago. The make-up man swears that many truly odd things happened on the set, but the director refused to give in to the “hysteria and superstitions” until he mysteriously fell and broke both his legs. That, apparently, did it and everyone went to her shrine to pray whereupon the strange accidents stopped. As a final note, there is the story of the actor Peter Alexander who was professionally made up as Oiwasan last Halloween. His imitation of Oiwasan was so effective that many Japanese reacted intensely to his costume and several warned him. That night when he got home he called me to come look at his room. His folding screen had been thrown across the room and ripped and several large potted plants had been uprooted. We thought that a strong wind had done these things until we realized that the screen was ripped in dozens of places, not just where it hit the chair, and that there was no wind to speak of. Peter talked to his make-up man and was forcefully told that he must quickly make a pilgrimage to Oiwasan’s shrine, which he subsequently did. He’s had no problems since then. 

     Many swear that she walks the streets of Tokyo to this day and is capable of helping protect women and children as well as scaring people. Her grave in Sugamo and her shrine in Yotsuya have become amazing devotional centers filled with flowers, candles and offerings. There is a mysterious woman who has devoted her life to taking care of the shrine, for what reason, no one knows.

     It is, interesting enough, also from shrines that one can get spiritual defenses against ghosts if you are concerned about encountering one like Oiwasan. You can, as most Japanese do, obtain and carry an “Omamori,” a magical charm. These come in assorted styles and vary in function from protecting against traffic accidents to facilitating pregnancy. You can get a “Mayoke Omamori” that wards off general “bad fortune” and this should ward off ghosts. A surer thing to use is another kind of charm called an “Ofuda.” This rectangular paper amulet can also be bought at a temple or shrine and contains the name (and thus power) of a Buddhist or Shinto deity. It should be placed near one's doorway where it will repel all ghostly visitors or, if immanent attack is foreseen, it can be placed on one’s forehead when facing the nasty spirit and prayers recited. If you are a devout Buddhist, there is another way you can blast ghosts back to the netherworld; by chanting mantras (“Okyo”) and brandishing your “juzu” or prayer beads at the ghost. In popular movies, “manga” and folklore, this is a sure bet, but you have to have at least some spiritual clout. 

     From the variety of ancient ghost stories that abound in Japan, one might get the idea that such haunting belong in the history books, this could not be further from the truth. There are several places that boast modern haunting that are quite well known by word of mouth.

      In Kamakura there are several relatively modern highway tunnels that are often used, the Sendogaya tunnel is one of them. This tunnel has become famous for the ghost that haunts it, terrorizing motorists and, so the story goes, even causing a number of (so far) minor accidents. Two first hand witnesses swear that they were spooked in that tunnel, one group quite badly. The first was a man who was driving his sports car to the beach, half way through the tunnel one night he noticed something in the rear view mirror. Turning around, he saw a woman sitting in the back seat and, horrified, almost lost control of the car. Of course when he emerged from the tunnel, the apparition was gone. A group of acquaintances I know told this tale. They were driving through the same tunnel when they all felt something creepy. Turning around, they saw a bodiless head floating above the back of the car. Suddenly the radio went dead and strange language started coming out of the speakers. They were so terrified that they stopped their car in the tunnel and ran out screaming, and this was during the day! One of them finally got the nerve to return and fetch the car. When looking into this story, a curious fact was discovered. Perched over this tunnel is a crematorium.

     Another currently acknowledged ghost in Japan is the “Tokyo Taxi Ghost.”  This spirit seems to get a kick out of hailing cabs and then scaring the hell out of the drivers. The common scenario, often repeated by local cabbies, is that a beautiful woman dressed in white will hail a cab along Aoyama dori, the street running along Aoyama cemetery. Often standing in front of the funeral home, the woman will soundlessly gesture to the cabbie and get into the back. Here the stories tend to differ. Sometimes she just disappears when questioned as to her destination, other times she actually gives directions and, upon arriving at where she wanted to go, then disappears. In both stories, she always leaves a puddle of water on the seat. Believe what you will, the fact is that cabs will not pick up passengers along that stretch of road at night anymore.
 

Why do Japanese fall under the spell of ghosts and ghouls more often than most? One reason is that there is nothing to contradict a belief in either of their religions. Shinto, the animistic folk religion of the nation and Buddhism, the long-ago adopted national faith, have combined to create a curious and interesting mixture that both accepts and actually propagates a belief in psychic and occult occurrences. Since there is no doctrine in Japan that magic or weird phenomena are manifestations of evil, like they traditionally are in Judeo-Christian cultures, Japanese society has generally been tolerant of these ideas.      The native and adopted beliefs that are the root of Japanese culture stress that there are a number of Spirits   (Boddhisattvas or Kami) that inhabit our world. They exist in many places and forms and they can hurt or help you. Powerful people who die can become Kami that can help (or hurt) the living. Ancestor worship was also an important part of ancient Japanese thought and it is still the common belief that one’s ancestors (called “Shugorei”) constantly watch and guard one. They are often depicted or described as standing behind you while holding onto your shoulders. When a person dies violently, if people fear that this Kami might come back and terrorize the living, a shrine or Jizo is built to offer repose to the spirit. This is why you often find such shrines near sites of violent death such as crossroads or railroad crossings.

Cemetary (Ohaka) in Kyoto during Obon.

     Because children are raised in Japan to believe in a universe swarming with Kami, it is not unusual to encounter many intelligent and inquisitive people who deeply believe in spirits and ghosts. 

     There are a number of games that children like to play around this time of year to intentionally invoke ghosts and spirits, one assumes just for the thrill of it! There are two that are widely practiced, the first being called “Kokuri- san.”  This game is basically the same as the Western Ouiji Board, except it is played using a 5-yen coin and the hiragana alphabet. It is often played in school-yards at recess and has been known to seriously effect some children. I have heard at lest three eyewitness accounts of children (almost always girls) who became unhinged after the spirit possessed them, having episodic fits, screaming uncontrollably and, in one case, even requiring psychiatric treatment. Shades of the Exorcist! 

     The second game  is a bit more difficult to rationally comprehend. Three friends go into a room that is empty and dark, each stands in one corner in silence. Upon a prearranged signal, everyone runs to the next corner, then the next, then the next . . . until at some point it is perceived that all the corners are full of people! This game supposedly invites ghosts to manifest and the ghost will be solid enough to touch!

     Are these ghosts that children play with, or kami? The difference sometimes blurrs.

     One of the most famous ghosts in Tokyo is actually considered a Kami, and could be viewed as a perfect example of an a being who will not find rest due to a violent death. He is Taira no Masakado, the powerful war lord who was the leader of the unsuccessful Tengyo Rebellion. In 940AD he tried to make himself emperor of Eastern Japan and was defeated and beheaded in what is now northern Tokyo by another famous lord, Fujiwara no Hidesato. He did not accept gracefully. 

     His body was buried in what is now Marunochi  and his head was taken to Kyoto for display. This head was later returned to Tokyo and buried on what is today Marunouchi. The body was stolen by sympathizers and  buried somewhere near Kanda Myojin shrine. Because of the nature of his death, and the continuing devotion of his followers, his spirit was (and still is) apparently quite active. A number of miracles in Tokyo have been attributed to his shade, but his curse is definitely on the house of Hidesato, especially the Sano family. Masakado’s kami was eventually enshrined at Kanda Myojin shrine,in central Tokyo. This caused quite a political ruckus and the Emperor Meiji even declared his Kami evicted from the shrine at one point. In any event, members of the Sano family were forbidden to walk in front of the shrine and when the shrine had a festival, all the doors of the Sano house (in nearby Yushima) were closed up tight. There were many peculiar things that happened to members of the Sano family because of this curse, but the most interesting came about because of a friendship. In the late 1700's a man named Kanda Oribe lived near the shrine. He was a descendent of Masakado and wore his crest. He was friends with Sano Goemon, a member of the Sano family, and frequently went out with him. One day, they went  drinking but Sano felt that his formal kimono was inappropriate, so Kanda lent him one of his. Suddenly Sano collapsed and went into fits. He became so ill that they feared for his life and immediately called for doctors. Kanda hurried after his friend who was rushed back to his house and was shocked to arrive at the house to find him completely recovered. Sano related the fact that as soon as the borrowed robe (and the Masakado crest) was taken off him, the pain stopped. They were thus both convinced of the continuing power of the curse of Masakado, just as most people in Tokyo still believe in the power of Masakado, for good or for ill. It is said that even today the descendents of Sano won’t go near Kanda Myojin shrine. 

     Masakado has also caused havoc in the Marunochi section of Tokyo where his ghost is held responsible for a number of deaths and disasters. Over the last hundred years the grave of his head, being situated as it is in the middle of a quickly growing urban area, has been slated for relocation. Yet every time this has been undertaken, accidents have occurred and people have died of mysterious diseases. This has happened at least four separate times and almost everyone involved swears that Masakado’s ghost possesses workers and either shocks or kills them. Cranes have fallen over, stones have shifted, cables have snapped and phantoms have been seen. The grave is still there and there are no current plans to move it. It has recently come to me from a friend who works in that area that all the desks in the offices in the buildings surrounding this grave face it as a way to honor this mighty ghost. So much for disbelief.

     One of the less serious Obon pastimes is telling ghost stories around a bonfire or in a dark room. It is traditional for all the participants to huddle together in a dark and desolate place surrounded by a hundred lit candles. After each ghost story is told, one candle is blown out until the last one is extinguished, and then . . . ? 

     This is actually based on a “real” ghost story that seems to originate in Kyushu. A Young novice monk who lived in a temple invited a number of his friends into the temple at night to tell ghost stories. They lay out a hundred lit candles and as each tale was finished, the teller had to blow out a candle. Having finished , the last story finished, the final candle was blown out. A sudden chill filled the temple and a number of the boys feared that they had invited malignant spirits to come. Nothing happened, and most of them went home. Two boys stayed over that night with the novice. just before dawn, the novice watched as a ghost entered the temple and carried one of the boys off. A few minutes later, the same thing happened to his second friend. He shook with fear, but then the it was dawn. The two were never seen again. The novice ran to the local shrine to pray and there met a beautiful girl. The horrors of the night before forgotten, he fell in love.  Later they were married, but on his wedding night he realized that her face was very familiar . . . he screamed, but to no avail. She was seen carrying him off and he was never seen again!

     Keeping in mind that this story is the basis for the 100-story game, the possibilities for scaring one’s friends are endless. One tale that is almost always included in Japanese ghost-story sessions is that of of the “plate-counting ghost.”

     The story of Okiku is a tragic tale that is known to almost everyone in this country. One can still terrify Japanese kids by sneaking up behind them and saying, “one plate, two plates, THREE PLATES . . .”  During the Shoho era (1644-48) a certain samurai who served a local lord had a set of ten treasured dishes which he valued above all things. This may sound strange, but ceramic art is highly revered in Japan and a beautifully made piece can be considered a precious work of fine art.  He was married to a rather nasty vindictive woman and, as was usual, they had a maidservant who took care of the house. This shy young woman was treated horribly by the wife who was jealous of her youth and beauty. One day, the wife broke one of the plates by mistake and, fearing the wrath of her husband, threw the pieces into the well and then accused the maid of stealing it. The samurai was furious and, in the heat of anger, beat the maid and cast her out. The innocent maid, in despair, either hung herself by the well or leaped into the well and drowned herself, no one seems quite sure.

     What is known, however, is that soon after that  her ghost began to appear near the well and every night the samurai and his guilty wife awoke to the sound of “one plate, two plates, three plates, four plates . . .” and so on until after nine plates were counted, there was only hysterical sobbing. This would die down and then the ghostly plate counting would be repeated again and again and again until daybreak. This strange occurrence was repeated nightly and became known to all the other samurai.  One, a friend of the now deeply disturbed master of the house, agreed to see what he could do. He hid by the well and that night, when the ghost of Okiku appeared, he was ready. When she started counting he crept closer and when she got to “nine plates” and was about to cry he yelled, “ten plates!” and she disappeared, never to appear again. It would be easy to discount this story except there are detailed records of it and her grave is clearly marked where it is situated in a graveyard in Kichijoji, one of the larger Buddhist temples in Tokyo. 

     It was in a Buddhist temple like this that a friend’s encounter with a ghost recently occurred. She was attending the funeral of her grandmother with her family when, as they were leaving, her younger sister turned to them with an odd expression and began talking in the grandmothers voice. She told them that all was fine and that the service was wonderful. Such haunting and possessions are not uncommon if you talk to the average Japanese.

     Most people simply experience the presence of a ghost with a mixture of resignation, fear and excitement. An amazing number of Japanese claim to have seen ghosts. The many stories are often surprisingly similar and can be typified with two contemporary examples. If you ask around, you will hear hundreds of stories similar to these:

     Keiko M. suddenly awoke in her bed covered with the sweat of fear. She was paralyzed, she couldn’t move a muscle or make a sound. Suddenly, at the foot of her bead, she noticed the figure of an old man. He floated there and gestured at her, then she passed out. She has no idea who he was but this experience has happened several times.

     Yasuyuki O. was riding home on his bicycle late at night. He came to a hill and began to coast down it. He felt something cold at his back and turned around. He saw a beautiful white woman clinging to his back and laughing, he screamed and crashed his bike. When he regained his senses, the apparition was gone.

Obon -  shrine at a cemetary.

One thing that definitely hasn’t changed is the wide-spread fascination with ghosts that still exists here. TV shows, magazines, manga and animated movies constantly reinforce ghostly beliefs that have been held by Japanese for centuries. Most Japanese still believe that they are living links in long chains of ancestors that stretch off into another world, a world they too will someday inhabit. The mundane and spiritual lie side by side in Japan, with moments where the two meet and mingle. Every “torii” (gate) of every shrine, every magic charm, and every supernatural incident announces the entrance to another world, the realm of the spirits, the same dimension from which the ghosts and shades of those long dead return at Obon to dance with festival-goers in every Japanese village and city.      So if you are wandering past a graveyard late at night and you hear:  “Huuuuuuuuuuuuu dorodorodoro.....urameshiya!!!”  It would be best if you held your Omamori tightly in your hands and quickly walked away toward a better-lit area of town.