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A few weeks ago I
was wandering around the hills southeast of Nara proper when I stumbled
across the following abandoned, decrepit temple. This weekend my friend Tom
and I visited it, camping out in the courtyard before poking around and
inside it. (It's a bit of a hike, and we came from something else earlier in
the afternoon, so we arrived there just as it was getting dark. Absolutely
NO nerve whatsoever to venture inside this terrifically creepy building way
out in nowhere without at least a little bit of the light of day.) The
following are the pictures I snapped with a cheap Cybershot digicam.
First, a rough diagram of the temple layout to give you an idea of what
you're looking at:

It's a relatively small affair, being set way up in the mountains and all,
and was probably maintained by a single family when it was still active.
Here's the marker at the base of the hill; you have to hike up a set of
stone steps after this sign to get to the temple itself. The name,
highlighted in red, is "Kankiten," and it is apparently an offshoot of the
Nara-based Koufuku-ji (temple); also, it says that it is the oldest in Japan
(oldest offshoot, not oldest temple):

This is the view from the top of the stairs (pieced together from two
separate shots, thumbnailed so I don't break the table):

The belltower:

A closeup of the belltower door, the paper long ago ripped out:

Looking up at the bell (camera flash makes it bright). One of the ropes that
holds the striker was broken, so it's just dangling there, mostly useless:

The courtyard and our tent. And my friend Tom:

A mostly dried-up pond:

Artsy shot of a stone lantern; the section labeled "kitchen" is behind it:

The outdoor, and possibly only, crapper. We didn't see any toilets inside. I
think the spring that fed the pond was then directed to flow beneath this
toilet. Ewww...:

A closeup of the hondou, or main hall:

The hondou doors were openable, and we stepped in to see this, the main
altar. The priest would sit up there on the red cushion and hit the bell,
etc., as he chants sutras or whatever. Notice the thick layer of dust and
grime on everything and the torn up light fixture in the upper left:

The hallway leading from the hondou to the home. Behind that door was a
wall, as I've indicated on the diagram. The ceiling is... not in the best
shape:

One of my favorite pictures is this wavy tatami. I'll try to take some more
shots of this the next time we go back. It gives you some idea of how long
this temple has gone unused:

Closet full of old zabuton, seat cushions:

A reception room for visitors, this is adjacent to the wavy tatami room. It
doesn't show up in the picture, but this floor was also in terrible shape. I
was worried about falling through it, so I didn't go across this room:

This is looking BACK down the side passage towards the door that opens onto
it. To the left is the hondou:

The backyard of the house (not shown on the diagram, but it'd be on the very
top):

Moving farther around the backyard to the other side:

The back of the kitchen:

Coal chute (or ash dump or whatever) leading from the kitchen:

The backdoor through which we gained access to the house/kitchen is outlined
in red:

Some religious implements and a decaying floor:

The circuit breaker box. Interestingly enough, the switch leading into the
box was set to "on," but the house switches were "off":

Uh...:

Closeup of that last device. Anyone know what this thing is?!:

Great shot of the decayed floor around the hibachi heater. This would be the
living room; the kitchen is next door, and the family would have gathered
here to eat or whatever:

Shot into the kitchen. I was afraid to go across this floor, too (the one in
the previous image), because it was so rotten:

Those are the most interesting shots of the house and temple. On the very
top of one of the boxes of stuff in the belltower, we found this newspaper
clipping dated Showa 32. It's from September 2nd, 1957. Obviously I don't
know if that's the year the temple went out of commission, but the fact that
it was on the very top of the box makes me wonder...:

This is the back side of the clipping. The large caption is "This Fall's
Ladies' Hats":

The night we spent there was really interesting. The temple in the dark is
really, REALLY atmospheric, which is another way of saying "kind of
terrifying." There's nothing inherently horrible about the place; it's just
the idea of it, I guess, and the feeling the disarray gives off. On the
other hand, it was enormously peaceful, and after tossing an offering in the
box and "praying" or whatever briefly, a sense of well being really comes
over you, and you feel better about being there, whatever time of night it
is.
And then the noises start.
To be honest, they didn't start until after we'd turned in for the night and
zipped up the tent. We're both laying there, kind of talking and half
falling asleep, and all of a sudden CREEEEAAAKKKK. Stock still, both of us
checking to see if we'd shit our pants. What sounded like a really rusty
door opening (which the temple had none of, being pretty exclusively sliding
doors), was some sort of animal cry. The bushes rustled, a stick broke,
water rippled over by the pond... fortunately all the way on the other side
of the compound from where we were camped. Then it happened again. This
time, shortly after the prolonged growl/cry, came a loud YIP. Only that word
doesn't do it justice... In retrospect, it's much the same noise you get
when you step on a dog's tail. But that didn't do much to crowd out the
images of long-haired decaying bodies in white dresses pulling themselves
from the pond and dragging their way over to the tent to devour us.
About then, the bushes on the other side of our tent, the side with the
steep incline, started to rustle, and something responded to the first call.
We got used to it after a while, reminding ourselves that we were, after
all, in primeval forest here, that it's where animals live and all. I'll
tell you, though-- getting out of the tent to take a piss was one of the
most unnerving things I've done in a while, standing there thinking "hurry
up hurry up" and straining my eyes and ears for whatever was making those
noises.
I told the same story to my host mom the next morning (though much less
verbosely, of course...), and she suggested that it might have been foxes.
Foxes! Geez. We were about to have our mortal souls devoured by harmless
little FOXES. Heh.
Anyway, it was a good time. I'll probably be back there this weekend if
anyone has any requests. Also, if anyone knows what that "calsos" machine
is, please enlighten us. Thanks for reading!
peace
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