This temple defied all my expectations of a Buddhist retreat.
Was it a Rolex? I couldn’t get close enough to tell what was dangling on the wrist of the 83-year-old monk teaching us. I’m not enough of a timepiece aficionado to make out the brand, but it was bold, gold, and rattled on his wrist as he gesticulated gingerly while talking us through the temple’s 1,100-year evolution.
The octogenarian in question was one of the resident monks at Sekishoin, an unexpectedly modern Shingon Buddhist temple in Koyasan or Mount Kōya, a sacred temple town that became Japan’s 12th World Heritage Site in 2004. Prior to the trip, my supposition about monks was that they eschewed material things, lived chaste lives, were sober in temperament, and worshipped in pared-back shelters.
Not here.
Dressed in a mustard-colored samue–the traditional garb of Buddhist monks–the monk graced us with his presence during an orientation session and over dinner when he regaled us with jokes and frank tales, revealing the intricate hierarchy of the temple where he holds the rank of the eighth oldest.
This money-can’t-buy experience was on day two of my small group trip with Flash Pack on their Japan: Another World itinerary. The company specializes in crafting unique travel experiences exclusively for people in their 30s and 40s who want to taste the world without waiting for friends to have the availability to hop over to countries like Bolivia, Belize, Tanzania, or Japan.
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Visiting Japan had been a lifelong dream of mine, and I often travel solo, but my research hinted at difficulties for unaccompanied travelers there due to language barriers and culture shock. Therefore, for my maiden voyage to the Land of the Rising Sun, I was happy to go with a travel company like Flash Pack, which facilitated interactions with people and places via direct access to chefs, geishas, sumo wrestlers, monks, and more. Unlike other tour operators, the focus is on making meaningful connections that you couldn’t do by yourself.
Taking in a greatest hits list of the country—Osaka, Koyasan, Miyajima, Hiroshima, Kyoto, Hakone, and Tokyo—I had nine new people to sit with for each dinner and scenic bullet train ride, to take photos with, share awe-struck glances, or to clink glasses of beer–which there was no shortage of at the Sekishoin temple.
To my delight, we were able to order 500 ml bottles of ice-cold Japanese beer (bīru) to complement our meals. On each Flash Pack trip, a knowledgeable local Pack Leader acts as your window to the culture and the heartbeat of a destination, and ours was Naoki, a walking Japanese encyclopedia from Shizuoka Prefecture. He was absolutely indispensable, helping with everything from translations to educating us on the subtleties of Japanese etiquette. Thanks to him, I now know that when ordering beer, simply raising your hand and saying, “ich bīru, please,” just doesn’t cut it.
Naoki also gave a plate-by-plate explanation of our shojin-ryori meal, which I perceived to be big on color but miserly on flavor. These traditional Buddhist vegetarian meals intentionally omit any bold seasonings, onions, or garlic, which Naoki explained is said to increase desire and make a person “too strong.” The taste may not have been my cup of tea, but I relished learning from Naoki about the way shojin-ryori meals are carefully prepared according to the “rule of five” with five flavors, five colors, and five elements to balance seasons, mind, and body.
As the beers continued to flow, our next dinner guest arrived—a younger monk in his thirties, fluent in English and full of astonishing revelations. During this quirky encounter, he spoke candidly about his fondness for fast food burgers and his various stints quitting monastic life due to an aversion to waking up early. He even suggested locations in Koyasan where one could get inebriated, though he noted with a hint of regret that the nightlife in town was rather subdued, with most establishments closing by 11 p.m.
Sekishoin is one of the 50-odd temple lodgings (shukubo) scattered throughout Koyasan, a quiet and decidedly analog town where paying with cash is still king. Despite dating back to the Muromachi period of Japanese history (1333–1573), the temple came with modern comforts like heated electric toilets boasting sophisticated control panels, microwaves, and stream-to-your-heart’s-content Wi-Fi in the chambers.
I slept on a tatami mat on the floor in a spacious private room that overlooked a 6,611-square-meter Japanese garden with meticulously pruned bonsai trees where time seemed to stand still. Adding to the blend of ancient and contemporary, the temple had a beer vending machine in the hallway, which lubricated a post-dinner card game. That game was one of our first moments of deep belly laughter as a group, which comprised professionals from both sides of the Atlantic.
There were also moments of camaraderie, contemplation, and curiosity earlier in the day as we all walked through Koyasan’s main attraction, Okunoin, which is the largest cemetery in Japan, where the founder of Shingon Buddhism is interred. Unlike most cemetery tours that err towards melancholic, our Pack Leader Naoki hyped us up for this one by alerting us to all the company CEOs resting in branded corporate mausoleums. Logos for Nissan, Panasonic, and Kirin beer were visible, as was a milk bottle statue for an executive from the probiotic beverage brand Yakult.
Had it not been included in the Flash Pack itinerary, I likely would have missed Koyasan altogether. As I wandered through Okunoin, I found myself rather appreciative of the experience. The non-spooky cemetery was adorned with hundreds of diminutive ojizosama guardian statues standing in silent vigil, each donning shawls and crimson woolen hats. The forested grounds were steeped in legend and lore, including the tale of one statue that purportedly “sweats” from absorbing the suffering of those who pray to it, acting as a conduit for their mortal pain.
As I thoroughly expected, Japan surprised me in so many ways. I encountered vending machines dispensing miniature trains, posed in a purikura photo booth that transformed me into a cartoonish, highly airbrushed alien, and when staying at Hotel Indigo Tokyo Shibuya, I got to bite into a chicken katsu sandwich shaped like an Akita dog for the first (and probably the last) time in my life. Of all of these experiences, nothing fascinated me more than that shiny “Rolex” on the monk’s wrist.
Was it a Rolex? Even if it said Rolex on the dial, it could've been a replica as well. Some of them are very difficult to spot. Very cool report. As for the "Rolex" that shall remain in mystery.
I likewise might not have expected gold watches, beer-vending machines, or fast-food hamburgers at a Buddhist monastery, but I wouldn't have been surprised. I'm not an expert, but I've read enough about Buddhism to know three things: (1) How little I know about it; (2) How varied the different approaches to Buddhism can be; and (3) How deep and sophisticated those various Buddhist philosophies are. So no, there isn't a lot that would genuinely surprise me. I've never visited a largely Buddhist country (though I've visited Buddhism's country of origin), but if I were ever to do so, it would be without too many prior expectations.
I will add that another thing I would not have expected, if I had been susceptible to the charming, elemental simplifications that we usually get regarding Buddhism, is the vile manner in which certain Buddhist countries, like Burma and Sri Lanka, have treated their non-Buddhist minorities.