Owl Cafés

owlcafe

Looking for a date? A close and personal opportunity to gaze into the big eyes of some cutie?

Don’t expect much of a conversationalist. However, he or she may be willing to clasp your wrist. The possibility of posing for a picture or two is not out of the question either (but sorry, no flash photography). Did I mention that this acquaintance can be flighty?

Oh, and one more thing. Visits can get a little messy. More on that later. Apparently, lots of strings are attached—literally—in the owl cafés of Japan.

Who-hooo Gives a Hoot?

In the past few years Japan has spawned many animal-themed cafés, including those dedicated to goats (1), rabbits, goats, cats, and lizards (2). As for birds, parrots (3), falcons (4), and penguins (5) have become part of the scene. Yet none compare to owls, a sensation all their own. That trend has garnered attention from major news organizations, inspired visits from bloggers, and triggered criticism from wildlife conservation groups.

The fascination that residents of cities like Tokyo have toward owls, of course, is understandable. (London, UK, had its own controversial stint last year.)  In most cases, urbanization and technology have widened the rift between people and nature. Yet the human urge to reconnect persists. Owls are appealing because they paradoxically embody aspects that are both accessible and remote.

In fact, few animals seem as simultaneously familiar and strange as these avian creatures. On the one hand, owls are recognizable to just about anybody, even folks with only a cursory knowledge of birds. The frontal setting of the eyes and surrounding facial disks give the creatures’ heads a slight human appearance. Nevertheless, owls also seem exotic and mysterious. That most species are nocturnal and hence hidden from view must largely account for this. Their amazing head-turning abilities—a range of 270 degrees or three-quarters of a circle—and strange assortment of cries have to be factors as well. Add, too, the representations of owls throughout popular culture, most notably Harry Potter, and in mythology, including that of Japan’s own Ainu people (6).

Too Close for Comfort

At the owl cafés, the birds are tethered in dimly lit establishments that serve beverages. Visits last around an hour, with the opportunity to usually get close to a more than one fukurō (the Japanese word for “owl”). Supervision is customary. After all, unlike many birds including other raptors, owls do not have an extensive history of domestication.

Situations can get messy, so visitors have to be mindful of more than just the creatures’ sharp beaks and talons. Owls poop whenever the mood strikes. This means that coffee stains are the least of one’s worries. Some visitors seem to take the splatterings in stride, reporting that getting dinged by droppings is considered good luck (7). Wow, talk about marketing!

Of course, that people in metropolitan areas are excited about wildlife is great. However, there are much better alternatives than these cafés. In the United States, where for legal reasons owl cafés do not exist, raptor centers are a good option. Another possibility is going on a nature hike at dusk with friends or while camping. Why not see these amazing creatures without any artificial barriers at all? Make a “date” to hear and glimpse an owl in its own habitat.

Sources:

  1. Opar, A. “Japanese Cafés Use Live Owls to Attract Customers”, 11/11/2013. Audubon magazine: audubon.org/news/japanese-cafes-use-live-owls-attract-customers
  2. McKirdy, E. “Night Life: Owl Cafés are Tokyo’s Latest Animal Café Craze”, 12/10/2015. CNN: cnn.com/2015/12/09/travel/tokyo-akiba-fukuro-owl-cafe/.
  3. Kugan, J. “Owl Cafés in Japan are the Latest Hoot!”, 8/7/2014. The Star Online: http://www.thestar.com.my/lifestyle/features/2014/08/07/owl-cafes-in-japan-are-the-latest-hoot/.
  4. Lombardi, L., Associated Press. “Owl Café a Hoot in Tokyo”, 2/1/2015. The Columbus Dispatch: dispatch.com/content/stories/travel/2015/02/01/1-hoo-knew-that-interacting-with-owls-would-be-a-hoot.html.
  5. Opar, A.
  6. Morris, D. Owl. London: Reaktion Books, 2009. pp. 57–58.
  7. Siese, A. “I Went to a Japanese Owl Café and Felt my Soul Take Wing”, 1/31/2016. The Daily Dot. http://www.dailydot.com/lol/japan-owl-cafe/.
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Birds in Shinto and Japanese Culture

ShintoRooster

Daylight had long faded to memory. The world seemed consumed by a never-ending darkness. Despite waiting and waiting… and more waiting… morning never came. The sun goddess Amaterasu refused to emerge from her cave.

The other deities and spirits realized that something had to be done, for an earth without light was becoming too much to bear. These beings, referred to as kami, deliberated on a way to lure the goddess out again. Eventually, after devising a plan, they brought all components into place. The strategy included aiming a mirror towards the grotto-housed Amaterasu (in order to catch her reflection) while roosters crowed nearby.

Soon the great solar goddess, hearing the cocks’ daybreak song, noticed the glowing cavern entrance. She was puzzled, her interest piqued. The scheme appeared to be working. Finally stepping out to investigate, the goddess did what she had resolved to not do—Amaterasu brought sunlight back again into the world (1, 2, 3). The most revered deity in the Shinto pantheon, thus, had been tricked in part by some roosters.

Today these creatures are kept at some Shinto shrines, while the torii, those gate-like structures at temple entrances, are deemed the birds’ honorable perches (4). Although the cock is highly regarded, several other birds also figure prominently within this religion and throughout Japan’s culture.

Monsters, Messengers, and More

Birds are noted in the Kojiki and other ancient texts regarding the history of the Japanese people and their land. Several tales involve a great hero referred to as Jimmu Tenno, who’s depicted as Japan’s first emperor and a descendant of the goddess Amaterasu. For instance, before Jimmu’s conquest of Japan, he sighted a falcon near or on his ship, interpreting the bird’s appearance as an auspicious sign (5, 6). Later, in a dream, Amaterasu revealed her plans to dispatch Yatagarasu, a special three-legged crow and messenger. The vision turned out to be prophetic, for the great kami-bird soon materialized and contributed to Jimmu’s victory (7).

Like many ancient civilizations, the early Japanese also commonly associated death and the hereafter with avian creatures. Archeological remains and artwork discovered at funeral mounds, for instance, suggest birds were considered psychopomps, guiding the dead towards the afterworld (8, 9). In many cases, too, the human spirit was recognized as a bird. A popular story about Yamato Takeru, another of the nation’s storied heroes of antiquity, illustrates this belief. The Kojiki states that upon death he transformed into a white-feathered bird. The exact kind is not clear; however, speculation posits types ranging from a sandpiper to a swan (10).

Other avian creatures, too, continue to remain popular in lore related to death and rebirth. In some circles today, people believe that the dead can return as ravens (11). One Japanese tradition holds that certain individuals, usually Buddhist monks and mountain ascetics tainted with spiritual pride, are reborn as kami-like beings with avian features (e.g., wings and claws, heads of a kite or crow, etc.). Known as tengu, these monstrous figures are believed to reside in the forest highlands where they wreak mischief on nearby hermits. But not all tengu look or act similarly, and some do not resemble birds (12, 13). Also, a few, rather than haunting holy men or abducting children, reportedly offer individuals martial arts instruction. For example, popular stories indicate that tengu trained the legendary 12th-century warrior and general Minamoto no Yoshitsune (14). Overall, while these mythical creatures may have originated in spooky woodland lore, today they have taken off in the Japanese entertainment industry. One regularly finds tengu in the country’s comics (manga) and animated films (anime) (15).

Iconic Creatures

Featured in Japanese art and folklore, cranes abound among the nation’s most beloved animals. At least a couple of the Seven Gods of Good Luck are portrayed alongside these creatures. Depictions of the sages Fukurokuju and Jurojin, both of whom represent long life, include cranes (16, 17). Ideas associating such deities and these birds with longevity likely stem from Taoist influences (18, 19). As noted in a prior post, cranes do figure prominently in that Chinese religion. They also are significant in origami, the centuries-old art form of Japanese paper folding. Custom holds that a person capable of creating 1,000 paper cranes will be granted health and longevity (20). This idea probably accounts, too, for the origami birds’ popularity as a wedding gift, interpreted as a symbolic wish for the new couple’s marriage to be long and happy.

Besides the crane, a couple other winged creatures deserve mention. The first is the cormorant, a bird particularly important centuries ago. The Kojiki, for instance, refers to allies of Jimmu Tenno as folks who fished with trained cormorants (21). This practice likely originated in China, but is most famous in Japan. If you’re wondering exactly how such a process worked, the key lies with a string-like apparatus. This cord is fixed around the bird’s long neck, enabling fishermen to regurgitate catches restricted within the cormorant’s esophagus. In fact, such a method is still practiced today, but primarily as a reminder of Japan’s cultural heritage (22). Then there’s another feathered favorite, the pheasant. This close relative of the junglefowl rooster is depicted as the messenger of deities such as Amaterasu (23). While the green pheasant is thought of as Japan’s national bird (24), the albino version held significance for the imperial court. According to the eighth-century Nihongi text, sightings of a white pheasant indicated that the kami were pleased with the emperor (25).

Summary                                                                                                             

Much has changed in Japan since the unification of this archipelago nation many centuries ago. Just in the past one hundred years alone, the country has relegated its imperial figures to a ceremonial role and grown into a tech industry powerhouse. Commercial fishing is also thriving—but without the cormorants. Yet, as this post attempts to demonstrate, birds still remain integral to Japanese culture and religious life, from aspects of origami and manga to the symbolism on display at Shinto temples.

Sources:

  1. Roberts, J. Japanese Mythology A to Z. New York: Jim DeFelice, Chelsea House, 2010. p. 5.
  2. Sun, RQ. The Asian Animal Zodiac. Rutland, VT: Tuttle Publishing, 1974. p. 162.
  3. Horne, CF et al. The Sacred Books and Early Literature of the East: Volume XIII: Japan. New York: Parke, Austin, and Lipscomb, 1917. pp. 37-40, 164.
  4. Sun, RQ. p. 162.
  5. Frédéric, L. Japan Encyclopedia. Roth, K. (translator). Boston: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2002. pp. 420-421.
  6. Martin, LC. The Folklore of Birds. Old Saybrook, CT: The Globe Pequot Press, 1993. p. 55.
  7. Volker, T. The Animal in Far Eastern Art and Especially in the Art of the Japanese Netsuke: With References to Chinese Origins, Traditions, Legends, and Art. Leiden, Netherlands: E.J. Brill, 1975. pp. 38-39.
  8. Bonnefoy, Y. (compiler). Asian Mythologies. Doniger, W. (translator). Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993. pp. 270-272.
  9. Hoffmann, Y. Japanese Death Poems. North Clarendon, VT: Tuttle Publishing, 1986. p. 34.
  10. Horne, CF et al. pp. 60-61.
  11. Hoffmann, Y. p. 34.
  12. Bonnefoy, Y. pp. 285-287.
  13. Foster, MD. The Book of Yokai: Mysterious Creatures of Japanese Folklore. Oakland, CA: University of California Press, 2015. pp. 130-139.
  14. Foster, MD. pp. 133-135.
  15. Kimbrough, RK., “Tengu”, The Ashgate Encyclopedia of Literary and Cinematic Monsters. Weinstock, JA. (editor). Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing, 2014. pp. 529-531.
  16. Roberts, J. pp. 42-43.
  17. Frédéric, L. p. 438.
  18. Renard, J. 101 Questions & Answers on Confucianism, Daoism, and Shinto. Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2002. p. 23.
  19. Mak, R. “Japanese Mythology”. Bullen, M, et al. National Geographic: Essential Visual History of World Mythology. Washington, DC: National Geographic Society, 2008. p. 365.
  20. Mackenzie, D. “Exploring Origami”. Exploratorium Magazine Online (Volume 23, Number 2): http://www.exploratorium.edu/exploring/paper/paper2.html.
  21. Horne, CF et al. pp. 85, 92.
  22. Gabriel, O, et al (editors). Von Brandt’s Fish Catching Methods of the World (Fourth Edition). Oxford, U.K.: Blackwell Publishing, 2005. pp. 34-36.
  23. Horne, CF et al. p. 170.
  24. Lederer, R. Amazing Birds: A Treasury of Facts and Trivia about the Avian World. London: Quarto Publishing, 2007. p. 50.
  25. Horne, CF et al. p. 142.

Birds in Buddhism

buddhist

“I don’t know anything about consciousness,” a Zen master once declared. “I just try to teach my students how to hear the birds sing.”

At the time Shunryu Suzuki Roshi, the founder of San Francisco Zen Center, was responding to a query from a clinical psychologist (1). For lots of people, questions about consciousness can spin into heady discussions. However, Suzuki Roshi’s answer, both simple and poignant, sidesteps any intellectual grasping. His response points to awareness, not as an idea, but rather as experience. Here he refers to a common, everyday activity. Indeed, birds are frequently calling. But how often are we able to hear them over our thoughts?

That the late Zen master referred to singing birds is likely not a coincidence. Our winged neighbors are addressed similarly within Buddhist scriptures. The Maharatnakuta Sutra, for instance, likens the Buddha’s voice to the songs of birds (2). While explicating the Amitabha Sutra, teacher Thich Nhat Hanh notes, “If we live in mindfulness and our mind is concentrated, we can also hear the teachings of the Dharma in the sound of the wind and the sound of the birds.”(3) In essence, such aural qualities can be viewed as invitations to awaken to the present moment.

Symbols of Attachment and Enlightenment

Buddhism, of course like other religions, also employs avian imagery for figurative purposes. In art illustrating the cycle of suffering, the junglefowl rooster is centrally depicted within the Buddhist bhavacakra or great wheel of life. Native to India, this bird and its links to lust and attachment (4) have a long and widespread history. A more flattering image, on the other hand, is afforded the white heron and egret. Due to their graceful movements and patient concentration, these creatures have come to represent meditation (5) and spiritual practice. Herons with white plumage regularly appear in Buddhist poetry, the most notable being “The Jewel Mirror Samadhi”, attributed to the ninth-century Chinese teacher Dongshan Liangjie (6).

Buddhist poems occasionally sprinkle in observations regarding birds. Two important Japanese writers, Bassho and Ryokan, both mention them. So, too, does the 13th-century Japanese Zen master Eihei Dogen. In one poem, he compares the way a white heron disappears in a snowy winter landscape to the practice of bowing (7). Below is another Dogen piece, as translated by Brian Unger and Kazuaki Tanahashi:

Water birds
going and coming
their traces disappear
but they never
forget their path.(8)

The Zen master’s verse here employs an avian metaphor for awakened individuals of “Nondependence of Mind”. The idea is evocative of a much older teaching. Briefly in The Dhammapada, the historical Buddha compares the paths of fully enlightened beings to the “flight of birds in the sky” (9). In Dogen’s analogy, the creatures move across water; whereas, in the Buddha’s they pass through air. Regarding the latter, scholar Edward Conze explains, “The saints have their range in the Void [selfless non-attachment], and one can no more discern their tracks than those of the birds through the sky.”(10)

Going Beyond Death

Another notable winged creature in Japanese Buddhist poetry is the cuckoo. Haiku and other short verse often allude to the songbird as sign of imminent death and subsequent rebirth in a better realm. The reason for these connections, scholar Yoel Hoffmann seems to suggest, involves the dual roles of this bird as both harbinger of spring and deadly brood parasite (11). He provides numerous translations of such poems. Here’s one example:

Cuckoo,
let’s go—how bright
the western skies!(12)

Though the poet writes of his impending demise, his tone is neither gloomy nor fearful. The cycle of life continues, perhaps to a realm more conducive for enlightenment. “In the Jodo, or Pure Land, sects of Buddhism,” explains Hoffman, “it is believed that the dead are born anew in the Pure Land in the West, ruled by Amida, the Buddha of Everlasting Light.” (13) Death, thus, may be greeted not with dread but instead with optimistic acceptance. The next world may afford better opportunities for enlightenment. [On a side note, the visual arts often associate the peacock with Amida (or Amitabha) Buddha (14); whereas, Japanese death poetry interestingly favors the cuckoo.]

The notion of rebirth has been explained and imagined in many ways, with the idea first presented in the Hindu Upanishads (15). One finds the concept later among the earliest Indian Buddhist scriptures, especially in the fable-like stories collectively known as the Jataka. These tales, recalling past lives of certain members and associates of the early Buddhist community, often portray human personalities as previously existing as animals. According to the Jataka, the historical Buddha took many such forms before his enlightenment, including avian ones like the peacock, goose, vulture and quail (16, 17). In another tradition, the ancient Tibetan text The Precious Garland of the Dharma of the Birds depicts the Buddha as a cuckoo who offers spiritual instruction to the other birds (18). Again, the nature of rebirth and the emphasis on it varies in Buddhist teachings, and animals are considered just one form of possible rebirth among several (19, 20).

Other Birds in Scriptures

While not abundant, additional avian references in Buddhist scriptures exist. At least a couple are nominally derivative. For instance, near the Indian city of Rajgir stands a famous mountain called Vulture Peak. This is where the historical Buddha frequently gave talks to his followers. Scholar Edward Conze explains, “Its name was derived from the beaklike shape of the formations, a kind of rugged and jumbled natural amphitheater appropriate for such sublime teachings.”(21) Probably the most obtuse avian reference, though, relates to one of the Buddha’s most famous disciples, Sariputra. His name is based on that of his mother, who—apparently due to her large or accentuated eyes—was named after the sarika (22). The sarika, by the way, is actually a real bird. We know it as the mynah (23).

Buddhist scriptures do occasionally mention mythical avian forms. For example, in the Lotus Sutra, among the guardians of the Buddhist teachings are listed the garudas, reminiscent of the eagle-like creature in Hinduism, and the kalavinkas, birds supposedly unrivaled in their ability to warble beautiful songs (24). The Shambhala Dictionary of Buddhism and Zen notes that the “… garuda is occasionally used as a synonym for Buddha…” (25). The phoenix, popular in other religions, holds significance for some Buddhists, too. According to scholar Thomas Cleary, the mythical creature can represent in Zen “… an enlightened one, rising from the ashes of the death of ego …” (26).

Summary

While this post focuses primarily on birds in Buddhist teachings and in literature influenced by the religion, more could obviously be said about our winged neighbors, particularly regarding their role in ceremonies. Of these, merit-based animal releases and the ritualized “sky burial” of Tibetan Buddhists come to mind. Since this post is getting rather long, though, perhaps I can return to those subjects at another time. If you’re interested, do feel free to click on the above hyperlinks, which lead to articles regarding such practices.

Like the previous birds-in-religion posts, this one is only intended as an overview. For next time, let’s move on to several Chinese religions that have co-existed for centuries with Buddhism. We will find more birds there!

Sources:

  1. Suzuki, S. Zen Is Right Here: Teaching Stories and Anecdotes of Shunryu Suzuki. Chadwick, D. (editor). Boston, MA: Shambhala Publications, Inc. p. 107.
  2. Zhang, Z. (editor). A Treasury of Mahayana Sutras: Selections from the Maharatnakuta Sutra. University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University, 1983. p. 77.
  3. Hanh, T.N. Finding Our True Home: Living in the Pure Land Here and Now. Berkeley, CA: Parallax Press, 2003. p. 67.
  4. Corless, R.J. The Vision of Buddhism. St. Paul, MN: Paragon House, 1989. p. 167.
  5. Werness, H.B. The Continuum Encyclopedia of Animal Symbolism in Art. New York: The Continuum International Publishing Group Inc., 2004. p. 214.
  6. Leighton, T.D. “Dongshan and the Teaching of Suchness”. Zen Masters. Heine, S., Wright, D.S. (editors). New York: Oxford University Press, 2010. pp. 50-52.
  7. Dogen, E. “Bowing Formally”. Unger, B., Tanahashi, K. (translators). Moon in a Dewdrop. Tanahashi, K. (editor). New York: North Point Press, 1985. p. 214.
  8. Dogen E., “On Nondependence of Mind”. Ibid 7.
  9. The Dhammapada. Easwaran, E. (translator). Tomales, CA: Nilgiri Press, 1985. p. 102.
  10. Conze, E. The Buddha’s Law among the Birds. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass Publishers, 1996. p. 57.
  11. Hoffmann, Y. Japanese Death Poems. North Clarendon, VT: Charles E. Tuttle Publishing Co. Inc., 1986. p. 142.
  12. Hoffmann, Y. p. 204.
  13. Hoffmann, Y. p. 141.
  14. Werness, H.B. p. 320.
  15. Keown, D. (editor). Dictionary of Buddhism. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003. p. 235.
  16. Conze, E. p. 49.
  17. Rhys Davids, C.A.F. Stories of the Buddha: Being Selections from the Jataka. New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1989. pp. 85-89.
  18. Conze, E. p. 57.
  19. Keown, D. p. 235.
  20. Harvey, P. An Introduction to Buddhism: Teachings, History and Practices. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1998. pp. 32-39, 44-46, 59-60.
  21. Conze, E. Buddhist Wisdom: The Diamond Sutra and The Heart Sutra. New York: Random House, Inc., 2001. p. xvii of introduction.
  22. Lopez, D.S. The Heart Sutra Explained: Indian and Tibetan Commentaries. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 1988. p. 151.
  23. Olivelle, P. (editor). The Dharmasutras: The Law Codes of Ancient India. New York: Oxford University Press, 1999. p. 351.
  24. Reeves, G. (translator). The Lotus Sutra. Somerville, MA: Wisdom Publications, 2008. pp. 54-55, 66, 374-375, 463-464.
  25. Fischer-Schreiber, I., Ehrhard, F-K, Diener, M.S., Kohn, M.H. The Shambhala Dictionary of Buddhism and Zen. Boston, MA: Shambhala, 1991. p. 76.
  26. Cleary, T. (translator). Book of Serenity: One Hundred Zen Dialogues. Boston, MA: Shambhala, 2005. p. 458.