an exiled government official who was devoted to education— one reason for themanygroups of uniformedschoolchildrenwho were visiting alongside us. The story of Sugawara’s funeral pro- cession following his deathin 903 A.D. is worthexcerpting from the shrine’s website, because it explainswhythememorial struc- ture was built where it was: His funeral procession was a melancholy occasion, attended
only by his faithful followerYasuyukiUmasake and a fewneigh- bors. The coffin was carried on a cow carriage led by Yasuyuki, [and] according to the legend the ox suddenly came to a halt and refused to budge despite threats and entreaties. The burial there- fore took place on the spot, and this became the site of the Ten- mangu’s main shrine, visited today by so many admirers. This is why modern-day visitors will notice statues of an
unmoving cow throughout the shrine’s grounds, as well as plum motifs and decorative elements. The plum tree was a favorite of Sugawara’s, and approximately 6,000 of themdecorate Daza- ifu Tenmangu; when they blossomin the spring, they transform the space into a pink-and-white wonderland. Our farewell dinner that evening was held at Kayanoya
(www.kayanoya.com), an enchanting restaurant with a heavy, thickly thatched roof about a half-hour outside the city, situated on a dark, starlit country road. In addition to Chihiro Doi and Ryoko Baba, our guide from the Fukuoka Convention & Visi- tors Bureau (www.welcome-fukuoka.or.jp/english), we were joined by the CVB’s executive director, a jovial older gentleman named Fumio Maeno, and Baba’s supervisor,Yasuhiro Nonaka, deputy director of the bureau’s sales and promotion department. The charmingly rural Kayanoya, which translates as
“thatched-roof house,” is big on local and seasonal ingredients, which meant that our multi-course, autumn-inspired menu included dishes such as scallop-and-pumpkin tofu, root-vegetable soup, and swordfish cooked in mushroom paste, among other delights. On the way out, I pur- chased a jar of Fukuokan honey. The highlight of our entire trip,
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SERENE SCENE, WITH DOLPHINS: At top, the picturesque view from the back porch of the Japanese Buddhist temple of Komyozenji. At bottom are the two dolphins we saw performing tricks at MarineWorld Umino-Nakamichi.
through the lovely, fresh-scented garden, with little stone paths winding throughout. While we were there, a wild heron went flapping away as we rounded a corner. After a traditional Japanesemeal in a charming, serene tatami-
mat room at Daimaru Besso, we were off to Kyushu National Museum(www.kyuhaku.com), Japan’s fourth nationalmuseum, following Tokyo, Kyoto, and Nara. Among other artifacts and exhibits, the museum features a permanent display on the his- tory of the relationship of theKyushu region (of which Fukuoka is a part) and the Asian continent. Then, through a long tunnel of moving walkways and esca-
lators, we emerged at Dazaifu Tenmangu (www.dazaifu tenmangu.or.jp/other), a truly impressive shrine and 3,000-acre gardens that were built to commemorate Michizane Sugawara,
152 pcmaconvene December 2010
at least for me, took place earlier that day, after our visit to Daza- ifu Tenmangu, when we stopped at the serene, whisper-quiet Japan- ese Buddhist Zen temple of Komyozenji, near the shrine. After walking along a pathway through a large Zen rock garden in front of the temple,weremoved our shoes and entered the main building, a low-ceilinged and unassuming tatami-mat–covered space. It was only whenwereached the temple’s back porch that the
Contact Convention Manager Gil Cardon, Japan National Tourism Organization, Japan Convention Bureau, New York Office phone: (212) 757-5640 e-mail: jcb@jntonyc.org website: www.japantravel info.com
place really struck me. The covered wooden porch looked out over a picture-perfectmoss-and-rock Zen garden, laid out to rep- resent large bodies of land and water, like you would view on a map. One by one we settled ourselves onto the porch’s floor to sit and viewthe garden in silence, each of us lost in our thoughts. Sitting there, meditating on the garden and its simple beauty, I felt a deep calmcome over me, as a lone bird warbled, unseen, somewhere in the green trees.
Hunter R. Slaton is a senior editor of Convene. www.pcma.org