Moss Garden

This place is said to be where Steve Jobs sought peace and quiet.

It was also the only place people from Kyoto recommended that I must visit – Kokedera. Yet the process to make a reservation was not simple for short-term visitors. You had to write a handwritten letter and wait for a while, so I didn’t dare make the reservation.

The garden was famous for its moss, thus its nickname 'Moss Garden Kokedera' yet its original name was Saihoji temple with more than 1,200 years of history. Before becoming a temple in the Nara period, it used to be one of Prince Shotoku’s retreats. Muso Soseki, a famous garden designer, renovated it into a temple.

Numerous attractions and gardens charge anywhere from 600 yen to 1000 yen for admission in Kyoto. If you are travelling and visiting several places a day, those admission fees amount to quiet a lot. As for this moss garden, you have to wait for a while after writing a handwritten letter and only one team is permitted per day. The admission is a full 3,000 yen. This 3,000 yen for a ticket is no small amount for a traveler as you cannot help but spend quite a bit of money here and there while traveling.

Yet, my conclusion is, despite all this, Kokedera’s unique beauty makes it worthwhile.

I had to write a handwritten letter in ancient language to get admission. They really stick to the 1,000 year old style in this digital age of the 21st century. Japan always tries to preserve their tradition while keeping ahead in cutting-edge technology. It’s incomprehensible in the 21st century, yet maybe that adds to its appeal and charm for westerners.

I arrived a little before 3 o’clock, the admission time. A big sign next to the main entrance with the words 'Unesco World Heritage Site' greeted me. The main entrance was closed, and I went in a small gate next to the main entrance, through which a white flower tree could be seen.

Surprisingly, there was a big cherry blossom tree inside with blossoms like December snowflakes. I walked in between bare maple trees to find drooping branches of cherry blossom trees blowing gently with the wind above grass. The spacious grass came to my sight as thick green velvet moss. I knew that was only the start of the large garden, and in the middle of winter, I felt like I was entering another world with freshness.

The selected 300 people followed the guide, took off their shoes neatly, and entered the large hall and sat calmly in front of floor desks. Young monks created a holy atmosphere by talking about the history and background of Kokedera. The head monk who looked dignified appeared from somewhere and recited long scripture and bowed.

It was just like how my grandmother who had raised me when I was young, would recite poems at dawn. Buddhism which we disseminated to Japan in the 6th century, though originally from India, became ours, and the pronunciation of the world Buddhism, I felt, were the same in Korean and Japanese. I couldn’t understand the contents, so I was lost in thought about my grandmother, sitting behind a small floor desk surrounded by people from all over the world.

I had been on a needless diet by eating less when I was about 20 years old and my grandmother was worried very much that I should eat. After I had graduated from university, she would come up to my room on the second floor and talked about this suitable groom and that suitable groom and I didn.t like the way she said it. I was also annoyed that she treasured me so much.

One day, about the time I graduated from elementary school, she came and made me stand in a line for Ewha instead of Kyonggi as her classmates had all become widows. Wasn’t it because people were kidnapped or conscripted around the Korean war? Anyway, that was how my grandmother put me in a Mission school.

As I was engrossed in these thoughts, the monk had finished reciting the long Diamond Sutra, and told us that if we would write our country, name, birthday and wishes using ink, inkstone, and brush on the paper on the floor desk in front of each of us, he would pray for us. Even though Kyoto was not a metropolis, it had been a capital for a long time, and its number of temples, small and big amounted to close 3,000. Many of them are attractions that tourists from all over the world visit. This was the first time I ever saw them give out brushes and ink and encourage participation from tourists in Kyoto. It took as long as one hour. No one complained that they didn.t show the moss. Everyone looked solemn. Rather than just looking around the splendid garden only, I thought this helped us see the core meaning of the place.

I who became a Christian thanks to my Buddhist grandmother who used to pray on 4 o’clock every morning, pondered for a while and wrote with ink Bible verses - faith hope love as my wish.

I put on my shoes and followed their guide to where the much-expected moss garden spread in full swing. Ah, it was spectacular. They say there are 120 kinds of moss and mosses were shining with green color in the middle of December, how shiny would they be when they are in season in May and June? There was a pond in the middle and in the middle of the water they made rock islands in the shape of the Chinese character for heart “心”.

A narrow line of water with a width of about 3 centimeter was flowing between moss, and red berries could be seen in moss grass that was thicker than velvet and spread wider than 350,000 square feet between the tall trees. We went straight up the slope, and a Japanese rock garden which looked very unfamiliar appeared and maple trees still with colored leaves were elegantly standing.

The Chinese silently admiring came to my sight.