Ghostly Japan

Here is the long awaited Halloween post from David! Enjoy!

They say Japan is haunted. The entirety of it, tip to tip. Ghosts are everywhere, demons are numerous and spirits are plentiful. We`ve heard tale of random disappearances, spectral sightings and other incidents that require the attention of Harold Ramis, Ernie Hudson, Dan Akroyd and Bill Murry (Yeah, those were the Ghostbusters). Ask anyone one on the street here and they will likely say that Japan is the most haunted series of islands on earth. They might be right but I have yet to see any proof. And I have been looking.

I`ve heard the ‘most haunted’ claim before. When I lived in Hawaii all my friends told ghost stories, many of which they said happened to them first hand. Stories about something unseen sitting of their chest while they sleep, stories about long dead Hawaiian Kings and the tribes they forced off cliffs, stories about the volcano goddess randomly appearing in cars and causing them to crash. In addition to being fun to listen to, these stories always had an air of validity about them. This is mostly because the island of Oahu actually feels haunted. Not all of it of course, the beach resorts, the giant shopping malls, the countless ABC stores don`t. But away from the tourist areas things can feel a little eerie. The old Pali highway is a prime example. It`s also called the Nuʻuanu Pali, and there are some strange stories about traversing it and some dark tales from its past.

The road is ancient and has been heavily used for it is nice and low, easy traversable pass connecting two sides of the island. It`s history is surprising sordid considering no one thinks of Hawaii as a place where horrific bloody battles took place, but the Nuʻuanu Pali was the site where King Kamehameha, the king who unified the Hawaiian islands and created the Kingdom of Hawaii, finished his conquest of Oahu. He also made 400 enemy troops walk off a cliff to their deaths. Not something one tends to think about while enjoying the view off the Pali lookout. Later, when the highway was built it said that the workers found some 800 skulls.

I lived right near where all this happened.

In addition to the history of the Old Pali, there are also the ghost stories that are told by the travelers over it. Stories about beautiful women leading men to their deaths and the Goddess Pele smiting those who dare to bring pork travelling on the road. My friend didn`t know that bring pork over the Pali offended Pele but then his car broke down and then his radio and then series of unlucky coincidental occurrences caused him, at the suggestion of our Hawaiian friend, to perform some sort of redemption ritual off the side of the Pali. Now I`m not saying I believed Pele was the cause of his unlucky streak, the kid seemed to bring misfortune on himself, but I did go along to watch. How many chances would I have to see an ancient Hawaiian ritual performed because someone was eating a pork sandwich while driving?

Again, I lived right near here; I had to take this road almost every day. Things felt slightly eerie. The ghost stories, whether I believed them or not felt appropriate, they fit the surroundings, the creeping feelings of terror one felt while waiting for the bus on a foggy dark road felt justified. There is a similar feel about Japan.

If you are familiar with Japanese history you know how bloody it is. That might be the reason why there are so many Japanese ghost stories. And these stories are common. Just look at some of the films Japan has exported over the past few years. Ringu and Ju-on may have been remade into The Ring and The Grudge and tailored for American audiences but they are inherently Japanese stories. The American versions of these are terrifying, they are the sort of movies that can keep you up for days, psychologically scare you and cause you to never watch a VHS tape or move into a new house. The original Japanese versions of these movies are even scarier. Ringu, which is based on a book by the same name which is in turn drawn from Banchō Sarayashiki and stories of the woman in the well; an old Japanese folktales from the Edo period. There are thousands of stories just like this throughout the county. On top of this Japan has embraced these ghost stories, the woman in the well has made an appearance in a number of literary works and a few plays, not only in Ringu.

Beyond the stories and culture, many places in Japan just feel haunted.

The town of Imaichi, where my apartment is, is technically a part the City of Nikko, Japan. It`s considered a great tourist town and has been for 400 or so years. There are Japanese Onsens, or hot springs baths, amazing hiking trails and a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It is also the burial place of Tokugawa Ieyasu, who was one of the unifiers of Japan. He helped end years civil war and found the Tokugawa shogunate. He`s also considered something of a murderous tyrant. He attacked the husband of his granddaughter, forced him and his mother to commit seppuku and then burned his castle down. Ieyasu died a year later. This was one of his last acts on his long and bloody road to power. He`s just up the road from me. A long old road lined with ancient cedars. I often walk along this road on my way to and from work.

It`s very easy to imagine ghost walking along this road at night. The trees tower above you, block out any light from stars or the moon. An ancient rock wall lines it on both sides. And when it`s past a certain hour, there next no cars or people using but me. Beyond that there is a long partially lit pathway. The train tracks run alongside it. There are three light poles bunched all together. Their light only goes so far and once one walks past it they make long shadows out of everything. The next set of lights is at the railway crossing, which is at the end of the path. Those lights are red and only on when a train is coming and that’s rare. Once or twice an hour. Fields of rice mirror the tracks on the other side of the path. The rice fields are deep; the earth seems to sink down a foot or so. Where the rice meets the soil is lower than where my feet meet pavement. Frankly, it looks like a perfect place to hide. During the day this is perfectly peaceful walk, at night it can be a bit unsettling.

As a tourist town, Nikko has its fair share of hotels. The first one I see when getting off the train is four stories tall, boasts the Sakura Café, has a rooftop garden and a large parking lot. It is also completely empty. The first time I passed it I felt uneasy but I didn’t realize that there was no one inside it until after a month or so of living here. It took me a while to put all the signs together and realize it`s closed. All the curtains and blinds are drawn and have been for long time and there has never been a car in the parking lot, which has a long chain running across its entrance. The rooftop garden has grown wild.

Oh, and the front doors are locked.

They are the large glass automatic type. When I went to check them I could see into the hotel lobby. It was dark and devoid of life but it was hardly empty. It has all the things a hotel lobby needs, front desk, chairs, a coffee table. They were all just a little out of date, a little out of fashion. When peering through the blinds of the café I found a similar sight. It looks like it was closed in a hurry. And there is only one explanation for it; it`s believed to be haunted.

Now, I know there are other possible reasons the hotel is the way it is. It could have closed because there weren`t enough guests, the hotel went bankrupt and many other logical excuses. But anyone who rides on the weekend train can see there are more than enough tourists to fill it. Beyond that, the hotel a block or so down always has a full parking lot. And why hasn`t it been sold? Why is there no sign trying to sell it? There`s not even a sign indicating that it`s closed.

While the hotel is a bit eerie, there is an old house in the city that is simply frightening. Sarah`s apartment is a few blocks from Utsunomiya station, a major train hub for the region. There are a large number of bars, restaurants and clubs within a five minute walk from her front door, not to mention the countless office and apartment buildings. This house does not belong in this sort of neighborhood.

It`s on the same block as Sarah`s building. It would be a great place if it wasn`t falling apart, and possible filled with vengeful spirits. The first thing I noticed about it was the vending machine out front. It`s an old Pepsi machine. But it`s unlike the countless other machines I`ve seen throughout the country. First off, it only has four selections; most have at least 8 if not more. Secondly, the prices are the lowest I`ve seen. The largest differences are that it`s empty, unplugged and encased in ivy. It`s actually easy to miss when strolling by, leaves cover at least three quarters of it.

The house it sits in front of, from all appearances, is abandoned. It has two floors, three large garage doors that when opened would expose what used to be a shop of some sort. One of which has a large dent in it making it impossible to open. The peach color of the house seems to have been rubbed away in places and has been replaced with a dark grey color. Perched atop the house is an ancient TV antenna, slowly rusting and aging with the house. Plants grow around it, weeds gone unchecked surround the only visible door, which has no knob. As far as I can tell there is no actual way into the house. On top of it all, as Sarah pointed out to me, there is a strange smell that hangs about the place.

The scariest bit about the house, worse than the fact that it has no entrance, is that there are still curtains hanging in the windows on the second floor. They are not drawn or fully open but somewhere in between. They are placed just so, when passing, you can see just enough of the inside, which is just as decrepit as the outside. I`m reluctant to use the phrase ‘sinister aura’ here, but at risk of sounding like a one of those awful medium shows, there is a strong sinister aura about the place. I always look up through the second floor windows expecting some sort of spectral vision to peer back at me through the curtains.

Of course similar arguments that applied to the hotel apply here as well. The owner went bankrupt, lost the house or there was a fire or something along those lines. However, this is Japan, the country where they are tearing down an old beloved Kabuki theater to make way for a new Kabuki theater/office tower. Someone would have bought it, leveled it and turned it into something else except for the fact that it`s haunted and everyone knows that if you tear down a haunted building and replace it with something new, the new structure is just as haunted or more so than the first one.

Now, I know I just spent a great deal of time insinuating that these places I described are haunted, if not outright claiming so but I don`t think it`s really all that important if they are or not. What is important is that they feel haunted. They are creepy, they make the hair on the back of your neck stand up and they you fill you with a sense of unease. It doesn`t matter if ghosts or spirits or whatever lurk unseen in these places, beyond that, it doesn`t even matter whether or not these things are in fact real. Haunted buildings and ghost stories have very little to do with reality. It`s about the feeling they give you, they way they can take hold of your imagination.

So, is Japan the most haunted country on earth? Well, maybe. I haven`t seen any ghosts or anything but it certainly feels like it should be haunted. The ghost stories feel appropriate and there is an abundance of places that fill a person with ‘the creeps,’ and that certainly helps Japan`s reputation as the most haunted series of islands in the world.

David A. Graham