Chasing the Cherry Blossom: A Cycling Challenge in Search of the Spiritual Heart of Japan [Paperback]

Every April a front of cherry blossom moves northwards across the Japanese mainland, heralding spring and an outbreak of parties and celebration at its arrival. Author and missionary Lowell Shepherd decided to follow this floral eruption, cycling 2,000 miles in seven weeks. He wasn't just chasing petals: as he prayed and pedalled, he hoped to gain an insight into the psyche of the Japanese nation.

It feels as if we readers are hitching a lift on Shepherd's parcel rack thanks to the incredibly detailed diary he kept up despite fatigue and knees so painful he had to chew painkillers and mutter prayers for strength through clenched teeth. He writes evocatively of a land of contrasts, lush valleys and spectacular mountains ceding to urban sprawl and Karaoke bars, but above all of the friendliness of the Japanese and their astonishment and delight when they hear of his pilgrimage.

One of the most striking passages in the book is when Shepherd visits the Peace Museum at Nagasaki, where a second nuclear bomb was dropped after Hiroshima, in August 1945. The statistics are appalling but even more numbing is the fact that most of our modern nuclear warheads are 50 times more powerful than that dropped on Nagasaki.

As Shepherd concludes his two-wheeled odyssey he realises that he understands himself much better and has a greatly strengthened faith but that he has hardly scratched the surface when it comes to understanding the Japanese. Nevertheless, this is an enticing journal for anyone wishing to discover more about Japan, its people and one man's trust in God. --Amanda Cameron

The flowering of the cherry blossom is a powerful symbol of hope in Japan. The first buds open in the south in March and within six weeks the whole country has celebrated the blossom's return as a signal of new beginnings; the new academic year begins and young workers traditionally embark on their first jobs. Intrigued by this unique national celebration, and by Japan's rapid modernisation in the last sixty years, Lowell Sheppard sets out on a six week adventure through the 2000 mile length of the country, following the flowering of the blossom as it progresses north. Travelling on a bicycle, he experiences at close hand both everyday Japanese life and the glorious visual feast of the blossoms as he visits 100 viewing sites before the season is over. But when it ends, the sense of national disillusionment is tangible...This intimate encounter with the Japanese at their least inhibited reveals how they are coping with the transition from modernity to post-modernity and asks whether hope is to be found, or whether it is as elusive and fleeting as the cherry blossom.

LOWELL SHEPPARD, a Canadian, is a Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society and recently completed a Masters dissertation on Japanese youth culture. He is a former Director of British Youth for Christ who since 1995 has worked in Japan for Youth for Christ International. With Gerard Kelly he wrote Miracle in Mostar, and was a columnist for the Christian Herald, as well as writing numerous articles for Christian magazines such as Renewal.

Prologue

Every journey should have a theme. Mine was sakura zensen, literally the ‘cherry blossom front’. As spring comes to the Japanese archipelago, the Front moves north across the land, the great crowds of cherry trees exploding with blossom. In its wake a seasonal energy is released, offering the happy excuse for millions of nihon-jin (Japanese) to take a break from their straight-line lives and party unabashed in the open, joyous under the beautiful but fleeting blossoms.

For weeks before the arrival of the Front, in each town and city, the media speculate on the exact arrival date, fuelling the sense of anticipation. As the wave of blossom breaks, there is an outburst of celebration called hanami, a uniquely Japanese phenomenon, blending flower-viewing with sushi, sake, song and dance, all under the efflorescent sakura (cherry blossoms). The ephemeral blossoms are aloft only for a handful of days, making the party season short but all the more meaningful. To the Japanese, the evanescent beauty of the annual blossom that brightens their country’s neighbourhoods and parks symbolizes the essence of life: beautiful but short. The idea to accompany the Front, by bicycle, on its annual odyssey, came to me as four changes in my life converged, bringing a fusion of new thought and discovery.

First was the move of our family from England to Japan, the land of my wife’s birth. Born of missionary parents, my wife lived in Japan until she was 17. Observing her return to her homeland was like watching a fish find water. She was reinvigorated as she rediscovered cultural touchstones absent since her formative years. As for me, well, I might as well have landed on Mars, but I savoured the challenge of exploring the strange world of my wife’s childhood.

Second, as CEO of a Christian charity in the UK, I had given my all, but had deprived my family – and myself – of simple pleasures. I had apologized to my family for working 70- to 80-hour weeks, pledging to them and myself that I would reorganize my life in favour of a more wholesome balance between work, family and personal well-being.

Third, I had taken up cycling. The weather in Japan, in contrast to that of the Midlands in England, where I had lived for many years, is, for most of the year, remarkably bright and dry. In the UK one would plan an outdoor event, hoping that the weather would cooperate, but ready for it not to. In Japan, by contrast, one could assume that the weather would be fair. Japan’s cooperative climate made it possible to enforce a resolution I had made, when moving from the UK, to change my lifestyle – to rely on the car less and on self-propelled transportation more. With my wife’s help, I began to shop for a bicycle. I was astonished but very pleased when the owner of a mountain-bike shop agreed to trade a mid-range mountain bike with front suspension for a year’s worth of weekly English lessons. It took several weeks for the bike to be ordered and assembled, but when I mounted the saddle for the first time, I fell instantly in love with cycling. It was a sweet bike to ride and I knew, from the first few turns of the pedal, that I had found ‘something’.

The fourth discovery happened while conducting an academic investigation into changes within Japanese society. With the helpful discipline of a postgraduate dissertation to write and field research to conduct, I dived headlong into a two-year programme of inquiry. I focused on the emergence of what the Japanese press have described as shinjinrui, or ‘a new breed of human being’. Japan, overtaken by hypermodernity since the Second World War, is now in a time of traumatic sociological change, the most visible manifestation being generational friction. The formerly homogenous nation is now producing a generation unwilling to accept the dreams and values of its parents. My field research began during the cherry blossom season. Over a several-week period, before, during and after the hanami season, I met with a group of young adults and they discussed their views of life – past, present and future. I discovered that April was the ideal month to talk about such issues, for the Japanese are unusually reflective on matters of life and its seasons at this time. The arrival of the blossoms signifies more than the arrival of a new season. Educational and corporate calendars are anchored in this annual phenomenon. April is the month of transition. It is the time one graduates, joins a company and is promoted. Sakura is not merely a symbol of life; it also marks change and new beginnings. When talking with the young people about the importance of sakura in Japanese life, I discovered a term that is fairly new to the Japanese vocabulary: go gatsu byou, which means literally ‘May sickness’. The term refers to the feelings that follow the cherry blossom season – the fear, disillusionment and disappointment that many encounter as they are faced with adjusting to new schools, new jobs and new relationships. Sadly, for many, the reality falls short of the dreams and hopes celebrated just weeks previously.

Japan has been chasing the economic cherry blossom since the Second World War, but it has proved to be an elusive dream. Economic miracles have taken place, but the happiness and euphoria that Japan expected to accompany prosperity have failed to materialize. The new young of Japan have realized this and are now asking for something more; something different; something meaningful. Fuelled by the influences of globalization and postmodernity, the new young are expressing discontent with the post-war status quo and are searching for a different future. Their quest is bringing turbulence to old institutions, including schools, the family and the workplace. I was hungry to know more about the new emerging Japan as well as its ancient values and traditions.