Not as enlightened as I thought

A cautionary tale from Nara. Rusty's Electric Dreams :: (Big in Japan)

Konnichiwa, it’s Rusty, I went to Japan in January and, believe it or not, I'm still aching to write about Japan. So, I will be sharing my observations on their quirky, cool, and kawaii cringe culture as a gaijin (essentially a "gringo") in (Big in Japan), a sub-Substack of my main inbox zine, Rusty’s Electric Dreams. (Don’t worry, that’s not going anywhere.)

---

The deer in Nara are hardly charming. Photo by me.

---

Oh deer

You know what’s not big in Japan?

Taking photos of strangers.

Go ahead, ask me how I know.

I do try to be a respectful traveler. I ask friends for tips. I read the blogs. I watch the TikToks. But somehow, this one slipped past me. And of course, I broke it. Instantly. By accident. In public.

To be fair, I wasn’t aiming at a person. I was taking a picture of a sign.

This sign. Photo by me, unfortunately.

We had just arrived in Nara, a city known for one thing above all: its deer. Hundreds of them roam freely through the parks and streets, bowing for food, like they own the place. And in a way, they kind of do.

Legend has it that in the eighth century, a Shinto deity rode into town on a white deer to guard the newly built capital. Ever since, the deer of Nara have been considered sacred messengers. Today, they’re no longer technically holy, but they’re still legally protected as a national treasure. Which might explain why they are so fearless. They know they are untouchable.

As we approached the park where most of the deer hang out, and where tourists gather to feed, photograph, and occasionally get headbutted, I spotted a charming sign. It advertised special crackers for feeding the deer at 200 yen a pop. It was interesting to me that there is an entire cottage industry built around the deer.

Naturally, I wanted to document it.

So I took a photo.

And that’s when I got in trouble.

Because I also caught the vendor in the frame. I didn’t notice at all, but he noticed me. He came running after me, wagging his finger, scolding me in Japanese, and pointing furiously at my phone. He was upset-upset. I didn’t understand a word he said, but I understood exactly what he meant.

So I did what you do in that kind of situation. I opened my camera roll, deleted the three photos in front of him, and apologized the best I could without words.

Inside, I was dying.

My face was burning. My stomach dropped. I could feel every person within a 30-foot radius turning to stare. As a tall white lady in Japan, I already stuck out. I’m not someone who enjoys being perceived to begin with. Being loudly called out in public is my actual nightmare.

The worst part is that I had been innocently taking a photo of a sign, mid-thought, already building a little story in my head about Nara. And suddenly, I was the problem. Maybe I didn’t deserve that level of vitriol, but without speaking the language, I couldn’t explain myself. I couldn’t soften the moment. I just had to take it.

Later, still spiraling, I remembered something a Japanese friend once told me when I said I was finally visiting. She basically told me not to. Japan, she said, is dealing with serious overtourism. A different tune from the years when she begged me to come visit. But now the yen is weak, the dollar is strong, and every beautiful corner of the country is packed with foreigners trying to live their best lives while slowly driving the locals bananas.

I was too far along in my plans to heed her advice (and, if I’m being honest, I’m glad I didn’t).

I’ve thought a lot about that moment with the deer cracker vendor. Maybe he snapped because I took a photo without permission. Or maybe it was about something bigger. Maybe I was one of a thousand tourists that day taking too much and understanding too little. I’ll never really know. But I do see the connection.

I didn’t take another photo of a stranger the entire time I was in Japan. But I am sharing this one photo (with the vendor fully cropped out) because it’s part of the story. Not to prove a point. Not to be defiant. Just to show what I saw in the exact moment before I learned something that will stay with me for the rest of my life.

After all that, we weren’t all that impressed with the deer of Nara. I guess I’m a little uneasy about animal-based tourism. There’s often more going on than meets the eye.

But, Nara’s Great Buddha Hall was something else entirely.

Todai-ji Daibutsuden (aka Great Buddha Hall): Worth every yen. Photo by me.

It is massive, one of the largest wooden buildings in the world, built specifically to house an enormous bronze Buddha. It’s a thing of awe-inspiring beauty.

But, once inside, near the back, there’s a wooden pillar with a square hole cut through the base. Supposedly it’s the size of the bronze Buddha’s nostril. If you can crawl through it, you’re promised a bit of enlightenment in your next life.

It’s not just for kids, but kids are usually the ones who fit. That didn’t stop a whole lineup of adult tourists from trying. Some flailed. Some squirmed. I watched first with curiosity, then with a slow-building fear that someone was going to get stuck and would need to be buttered out.

After what happened earlier in the day, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of secondhand anticipatory embarrassment. I had already had my own moment of “enlightenment” in this life. Just not the kind anyone willingly lines up for.

---

— Rusty Blazenhoff

P.S. A bunch of you have told me my Japan tips were timely because you're headed there too. Reader Mateusz Pożar and his brother just got back and shared some of their own adventures (see: 1, 2). TL;DR: maybe skip the Expo in Osaka.

---

Also spotted in Nara

Jizō statues. Photo by me.

In Japanese Buddhism, Jizō is the guardian of children who died too soon (gah, I know). From what I understand, people dress these little statues in red bibs/aprons to ask for protection and peace for the children’s spirits. Sad, yes, but also a beautiful tradition.