I often look outside the window while working. The landscape outside is sometimes too magical to describe in words. While not metropolitan, nor country, Soja City is a beautiful suburban town. Small obachan (grandmother) shops fill narrow roads and rice fields seem to be placed at random throughout the town. The cicadas, while awfully noisy, remind me of the nature that surrounds me. As I look outside and see my ‘home away from home’ I wonder how this small town came about. What is its history?
Yes, this is a historical blog post. It doesn’t follow any of my adventures, but I want to describe the somewhat magic my little town has in its history and development.
Soja Shrine ultimately gave its name to this town. ‘Soja’ can be roughly translated to meaning ‘all kami (god) shrines’. It is said that 324 kami (gods) are enshrined here! Some may choose to believe that the ‘head’ found it too tiresome to travel to all the shrines in his area and gathered them all into one place. Hence, the name Soja Shrine.
Another historical landmark in Soja are the Kinojo Castle remains. These remains are famous for the original Japanese tale of Momotaro (Peach Boy). This story explains the legend of Prince Kibitsuhiko and the Demon Ura. The castle is known as Ura’s base.
When the Prince defeated Ura, he founded Bicchu Kokoubunji Temple where he created his Kingdom. Many say that Soja was considered the capital of the Kingdom, and therefore many burial mounds were built and remain in the town. Most can be explored while journeying the Kibiji Bike Trail.
However, Soja is probably most well known for the famous painter, Sesshu. When he was young, Sesshu attended monk training at the Zen temple called Hofuku-ji (located in Soja City). However, instead of focusing on his training, he spent most of his day doing his favourite activity – painting.
One morning, the head priest became angry with Sesshu’s lack of training and tied him to a pillar in the temple. He soon felt bad for Sesshu and came into the temple to check on him. There, the head priest saw a mouse moving around the boy’s feet, and he hurried over to chase the mouse away.
Yet, the mouse showed no signs of running away. This was because the mouse was not real, but a painting Sesshu had created using his tears for paint and big toe as a brush. The painting was so realistic the priest believed the mouse was alive! From then on, the priest never scolded Sesshu for painting.
The story itself is fictional, but mystical in its own way. Of course there is no evidence that Sesshu could have realistically painted a mouse with his toe and tears, but the story does somewhat describe how talented this painter was, even from a young age. This story is still a deep part of Soja’s history. In fact, a statue of Sesshu with his realistic mouse can be seen in front of the train station.
The symbol of the mouse is also seen throughout Soja; from the terraces at the station, right down to our town mascot. It is evident that Sesshu’s tale will forever be told regardless of if it is fiction or fact.
As I now look outside my window, I think about all the rich history and culture that still remain in this town. While often forgotten, Soja is a beautiful and somewhat hidden treasure of Okayama. With no popular tourist attractions, very few foreigners are seen here (which explains the many stares I still get), but I don’t mind keeping this culturally rich secret of Japan to myself!
