Showing posts with label ghosts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ghosts. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Get To Know Yr Japanese Bathroom Ghosts




Atlas Obscura :


Get to Know Your Japanese Bathroom Ghosts

There are several to keep track of, some scarier than others.

Illustrations of the 12 different types of Kappa, a water spirit who is sometimes known to haunt outhouses, from the 19th century.
Illustrations of the 12 different types of Kappa, a water spirit who is sometimes known to haunt outhouses, from the 19th century. Public Domain
As any horror film fan can attest, the bathroom can be a scary place. From Janet Leigh’s infamous shower scene in Psycho to the blood-spewing drain pipes of Stephen King’s It, there’s no shortage of genuinely startling imagery connected to lavatories. But when it comes to conjuring up the most terrifying possible interruptions to our most private moments, no one beats Japan.
In Japanese folklore, there are a number of spirits rumored to appear in bathrooms. Some reach out from the insides of toilets; others whisper through the stall walls. Each one has its own grim story and particular behavior, but they all share a connection to the bathroom.
“The bathroom is a somewhat unusual space in a household or school or wherever it exists,” says Michael Dylan Foster, author of The Book of Yôkai: Mysterious Creatures of Japanese Folklore. Foster describes bathrooms as liminal spaces in that they connect the normal, everyday world to a whole different realm, namely the sewer.
“In that sense, the bathroom is a place of transition, and the toilet in particular is a portal to a mysterious otherworld,” says Foster. “Even though we generally flush things down, it would not seem surprising for something mysterious to come up through the toilet.” A hand reaching up through the toilet is just one of the possible creep-outs a Japanese bathroom ghost might visit on someone.

Toire no Hanako-san

One of the best-known of Japan’s bathroom spirits is Toire no Hanako-san, or Hanako of the Toilet. Like all ghost stories, the details of Hanako’s origins vary somewhat from telling to telling, but in general, Hanako is said to be the ghost of a young girl who died around WWII, and now haunts school bathrooms. Usually described as wearing an out-of-fashion red dress and bob haircut, she can be summoned by going to the girl’s bathroom on the third floor, knocking on the third stall three times, and saying, “Are you there Hanako-san?” Depending on regional variations, Hanako will respond by saying, “Yes I am,” or a ghostly hand will appear. If someone enters the stall, they could also be eaten by a three-headed lizard.
The last outcome notwithstanding, Hanako is generally just a spooky presence meant for a good scare. Hanako has appeared in numerous anime series and television shows, and is pretty much a star. “[The legend] is well known because it is essentially an ‘urban legend’ associated with schools all over Japan. Since the 1990s, it has also been used in movies, so it became part of popular culture not just orally transmitted or local folklore,” says Foster.

Kashima Reiko

Hanako is not the only young girl said to haunt the bathrooms of Japan. There is another legend of a young girl named Kashima Reiko, said to be the ghost of a girl who died when her legs were severed by a train. Her legless torso now haunts bathroom stalls, asking unlucky visitors, “Where are my legs?” The correct response, “On the Meishin Expressway,” could save your life. Otherwise, it’s said that she might tear a person’s legs off.
Kashima Reiko is a bathroom-centric variation of another Japanese ghost story known as “Teke Teke,” which also features the ghost of a young girl who was cut in half by a train. There’s also a version of the Kashima Reiko story that suggests she will appear within one month to anyone who learns her story. This set-up probably sounds familiar to anyone who knows the popular Ring franchise, which Foster compares to the liminal aspect that makes bathrooms so ripe a setting for horror. “[Note] the classic J-horror film (and book) Ringu, in which Sadako is in a well; the association of the well as a mysterious place has precedents in earlier Japanese folklore. Also if we think about the imagery of Sadako coming out of a television set, we get the same idea that the television is a portal to another world; she literally crawls from another world into our own.”

Aka Manto

It’s not all scary little girls. One of the most gruesome of Japan’s bathroom ghosts is Aka Manto, or the Red Cape. Also sometimes called Aoi Manto (Blue Cape), or in some variations, Akai-Kami-Aoi-Kami (Red Paper, Blue Paper), this modern spirit is said to resemble a person completely covered by a flowing cape and hood, wearing a mask that hides an irresistibly handsome face. He is said to appear to people (usually in the last stall) as they are going to wipe, asking a strange question. Sometimes the spirit asks, “Red cape or blue cape?” or offers “Red paper or blue paper?” Choosing red will lead to Aka Manto flaying a person’s back (a red cape), or another gruesome, bloody death, while choosing blue will cause the spirit to suffocate you. Getting clever and choosing any other color will just cause you to be dragged to the underworld. The only way to escape Aka Manto’s punishment is to decline its offer entirely.
Kappas may be repelled by farts, but they were known to appear in outhouses all the same.
Kappas may be repelled by farts, but they were known to appear in outhouses all the same. Yoshitoshi/Public Domain

Kappa

One of Japan’s most famous mythological creatures, the kappa is said to sometimes be found in bathrooms. “However, it is not specifically thought of as a bathroom spirit, but more generally as a creature associated with water—usually rivers or ponds. But there are a lot of legends in which the kappa appears in an outhouse, where it harasses people (especially women),” says Foster.
An Akaname creeping around a bathtub.
An Akaname creeping around a bathtub. Public Domain

Akaname

This goblinesque yōkai spirit is filthy and disheveled, with a long, protruding tongue, and according to Foster, it is primarily known for licking the filth off of bathtubs. While not seen as a particularly frightening creature, the image of a gross little sprite licking the dirt off of a tub is not exactly friendly.
Japan’s bathroom spirits may appear to be uniquely ready to haunt your every bowel movement, but ultimately there are good reasons bathrooms everywhere tend to be a source of fear. “You are exposed and vulnerable—literally naked, at least in part—so there is a certain amount of danger or uncertainty associated with being there,” says Foster. “The bathroom is not a place you want to stay longer than necessary to complete the job you came to do.”

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Why Do People Believe In Ghosts?-The Returned / Ghost Project, Ghost Beliefs




NEW YORK TIMES,  Monday, March 9, 2015, THE ARTS section, Front Page, Page C1, Television Review

and then please scroll down to

Philadelphia Inquirer, Tuesday, March 10, 2015, Page A3, STAFF REPORTS / PARANORMAL



Photo
The Returned India Ennenga stars in this drama series, which makes its debut on Monday on A&E. CreditJoseph Lederer/A&E
Be careful what you wish for. That’s the message of “The Returned,” a spooky series that debuts on Monday on A&E about dead people who suddenly come back to life for no apparent reason and with no memory of having been absent.
The first episode introduces Camille (India Ennenga), a teenager who died in a school bus accident. Four years later, Camille saunters back into her house, opens the fridge, and makes herself a sandwich. Her mother (Tandi Wright), who had been lighting candles in Camille’s room only moments before, discovers her dead daughter alive in the kitchen, sulky as ever and evidently quite hungry.
This is a ghost story for grown-ups, focused less on the dead than the people who are suddenly confronted with lost loved ones years and even decades after they have died. When the impossible happens, parents, lovers and siblings experience rolling waves of shock, euphoria, suspicion and dread.
The A&E version is an American adaptation of a French series, “Les Revenants,” and it is in itself a creepy apparition: It’s almost identical to the original.
Photo
Mat Vairo as Simon and Sophie Lowe as Lena in “The Returned,” adapted from the French series “Les Revenants.” CreditJoseph Lederer/A&E
And while neither series is at all funny, the A&E one will be inadvertently amusing to anyone who has seen the original, which is available with subtitles on Netflix.
That was set in a small, isolated town in the French mountains. This one is a similarly woody mountain area in Washington State. Many of the actors resemble their French counterparts or at least share with them a certain continental je ne sais quoi. (Almost everyone is thin in Caldwell, Wash., and men and women dress with casual flair.)
The creators seem so scared of not living up to the French version that they have replicated “Les Revenants,” almost word for word and scene for scene, with the same characters, conversations and crises. Both shows are chillingly enigmatic, but the American one is more timid about it — afraid, perhaps, of the French one’s s shadow.
And one mark of originality on television these days is, oddly enough, unfaithful imitation. So many American shows are copies of foreign ones. The best adaptations riff a little, reimagining not just the setting but also the show’s sensibility.
“Homeland,” on Showtime, was adapted from the Israeli show, “Prisoners of War,” and refigured the American version around a new character, a bipolar C.I.A. analyst played by Claire Danes. “The Slap,” is an NBC version of an Australian series by the same name, but it surrounds the central conflict with typically American class rifts and tribal loyalties.
There are small differences in the first episode of “The Returned” and “Les Revenants,” but they are minor and seem to have more to do with expedience than creativity.
The French series was moody and almost maddeningly elliptical — things were not explained immediately, and plenty of things were never explained. “The Returned” gives viewers a few shortcuts.
In one scene, a young man who returns from the dead finds his former fiancée looking at herself in the mirror. In “Les Revenants,” the beautiful, dark-haired woman wore a cream-colored lace dress; viewers discovered only later that it was her wedding dress, the one she was about to wear to marry another man. In “The Returned,” the beautiful, dark-haired woman (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) is in a black dress and she is placing a frilly white wisp of netting on the top of her head — there is no mistaking it for anything other than a bridal veil.
Some of the changes merely reflect cultural differences. In the French version, a doctor makes house calls and takes a public bus to get to her patient’s house, two things that are almost unheard-of in the United States. In the American version, the doctor drives to work and sees patients in a clinic.
But despite those accommodations to the American way of life, the creators seem intent on recreating as much of the original’s atmosphere and style. In the French version, Simon is a sensitive, pale young man with dark curls who dresses in a black suit and a white shirt like a 19th-century Romantic poet — or the writer Bernard-Henri Lévy. The American Simon (Mat Vairo) looks exactly like him.
Possibly because it works so hard to mimic the original’s gloomy restraint, “The Returned” feels strained. It’s not at all like “Resurrection,” an ABC series that also presented dead people who return to their old lives, only to turn those of their relatives and friends upside down. (The ABC show was based on a novel, “The Returned,” that was not the source for “Les Revenants” or its American adaptation.) That show has so far lasted two seasons and was as brash, colorful and loud as any network drama, a nighttime soap with lots of dramatic music and end-of-episode twists that nevertheless lost traction.
“The Returned” is much more cool, cerebral and unsettling, but it is at best a ghostly reflection of “Les Revenants.”
Looking at why people believe in ghosts
Members of Penn group are researching cultural aspects. But don’t ask them: Who ya gonna call?
By Susan Snyder INQUIRER STAFF WRITER
   The ghost hunters and the Ivy League professors were 40 minutes into their investigation at the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology when Projit B. Mukharji felt something.
   The rest of the group had fanned out across the darkened Harrison Auditorium, a spacious art deco room with a coffered dome. The paranormal sleuths were training their temperature guns and “electromagnetic frequency meters” — tools that, in theory, register changes should a spirit be present.
   Mukharji, 37, was sitting alone in the front row.
   “I suddenly started sweating a lot,” he said. “And I thought I got a very strong smell of perfume.”
   A major score for a ghost hunter. But for a spirit-agnostic professor?
   Mukharji, who teaches the history of science and medicine, isn’t sure what he experienced on that visit last August to the Penn Museum. But he experienced something.
   “You could either call it a panic attack,” the professor said, “or you could call it a ghost attack.”
   He’s part of a group of Penn professors who are delving into the impact of ghost beliefs across cultures and disciplines.
   Just don’t call them ghost busters.
   They’re not trying to prove or disprove ghosts.
   “We want to understand it as a sociological reality and a cultural reality,” said Justin McDaniel, a professor and chair of the religious studies department at Penn. “It should be given a forum where people can talk about it.”
   McDaniel’s group calls itself “the Penn Ghost Project” and later this semester, students will begin recording ghost stories on campus. The goal: to create an 
online ghost story archive for the ages.
   “We want to kind of map out the ghosts at Penn, where are people saying they are,” said McDaniel, 42, a former Buddhist monk who isn’t sure whether he believes in ghosts. “If it goes well, we’ll start mapping the ghost history of Philadelphia, which is extensive, probably more extensive than any city in the country, just because it’s big and it’s old.”
   McDaniel and five colleagues formed the group more than a year ago after discovering their mutual interest in the incorporeal.
   “This is a unique opportunity for us to find a connection between our research interests and everyday life interest in the supernatural,” said another member, Ilya Vinitsky, who chairs the department of Slavic languages and literatures.
   David Barnes is considered the group’s biggest skeptic. The historian of medicine and public health became interested in the subject while writing abook about the former Lazaretto quarantine station and hospital on the Delaware River outside Philadelphia. Many people died there, making it a favorite haunt of ghost hunters.
   “I don’t feel it,” Barnes said of paranormal activity. “I don’t have any room in my belief system for it, but I’m really interested in the fact that [they] do.”
   The group has received $10,000 in university funding to bring in speakers, pay student assistants, and set up a website. They’ve taken trips with ghost hunters to learn how they work and they held their first symposium in October 2013.
   It was packed, McDaniel said.
   The professors also gave a presentation last fall at homecoming, which prompted alumni to share their own ghost experiences.
   Professors have disappointed some inquirers, who had hoped Penn would investigate their haunted house.
   “That’s not our thing,” McDaniel said.
   At one time, however, it was Penn’s thing.
   In 1883, with a bequest from a 
benefactor, Henry Seybert, Penn formed the “Seybert Commission,” a group of scholars headed by the provost who investigated “modern spiritualism,” including attending séances and looking for evidence of spirits.
   It found none.
   But that hasn’t quelled the stories. The Penn museum has attracted a number of ghost stories over the years, said Alex Pezzati, senior archivist.
   Someone spotted a ghost in the archival room in the mid-1990s, he said.
   “He walked from behind that shelf just over there,” Pezzati said, pointing a short distance. “He had some old-style clothing, frilly shirt and top hat.”
   Then, poof. Gone.
   Pezzati has spent decades in the museum, including some late nights, but hasn’t experienced anything ghostly himself: “That would be kind of cool. But sorry, no.”
   Frank Cassidy, founder of the Delaware County-based Free Spirit Paranormal Investigators, who led the investigation that night, said the group found “no hard evidence” of ghosts.
   “It was just senses that we all got while we were there,” he said. “I got the smell of chicken soup. We thought we felt the
presence of a person there, an angry, elderly gentleman.”
   The students who will assist the professors in ghost-mapping Penn are split on whether they believe in ghosts. But all want people to feel comfortable sharing stories.
   “You don’t have to be crazy to have this experience,” said Beatrice Field, 19, a sophomore from West Palm Beach, Fla.
   Field, who is originally from Honduras, said her family once lived in a house possessed by a spirit. It got so bad that the family shared a bedroom and set up barriers so the ghost wouldn’t enter, she said.
   Elizabeth Gonzalez, 19, a sophomore from Miami, doesn’t believe in ghosts, but wants to hear the experiences of others.
   “My main point of studying it is to understand how it affects the medical realm,” said the aspiring geneticist.
   Her research adviser warned her not to put the project on her resume. Science isn’t ready.
   “Once I explained what we were doing,” she added, “he was a little more OK.” ssnyder@phillynews.com 
   215-854-4693 @ssnyderinq www.inquirer.com/campusinq 
Justin McDaniel, department chair of religious studies, is part of the “Penn Ghost Project.” RACHEL WISNIEWSKI / Staff Photographer
Students Elizabeth Gonzalez (left) and Khadija Tarver are also involved. Expansion toward the entire city is seen.

Monday, January 26, 2015

Chiloe's Wharf of Souls-Souls of the Dead Sail Away to the Next Life on Ghost Ships

STUNNING!!!!


Wall Street Journal,  OFF DUTY section, Saturday/Sunday, January 24 - 25, 2015, Page D3:



Exploring Chile’s Secret Island

The savage beauty and rich culture of the country’s second-largest island, Chiloé, have been overlooked for decades. No more

ROAD TO NOWHERE | Chiloé’s Wharf of Souls art installation marks the spot on the island where locals believe the dead sail off to the next world.ENLARGE
ROAD TO NOWHERE | Chiloé’s Wharf of Souls art installation marks the spot on the island where locals believe the dead sail off to the next world. PHOTO: ROGER TOLL
DARK CLOUDS threatened rain all morning as we hiked across a primordial landscape of lush green hills and through forests of wind-sculpted trees, ferns and exotic flora. “This is the last steep slope,” my guide, Carlos Toledo, said. “But it’s worth it.” Cresting the summit, we saw the clouds part and the sun shine through the last hint of mist. The vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean arced all around us, windswept beaches stretched north and south to the horizon and the barking of sunbathing sea lions rose from a craggy islet several hundred feet below.
The 18th-century Santa Marìa de Loreto church in AchaoENLARGE
The 18th-century Santa Marìa de Loreto church in Achao PHOTO: GETTY IMAGES
After leading me to what might be the finest picnic spot in all of Chiloé, this 3,200-square-mile island just off the coast of Chile, Mr. Toledo pulled a blanket from his pack, followed by a thermos of butternut squash soup, fresh chicken sandwiches, brownies and a carafe of white Chilean wine. Surveying the coastline, I noticed a wooden structure, like a pier that seemed to go nowhere, on a grassy meadow near the edge of a distant cliff. “It’s called el Muelle de las Almas,” Mr. Toledo explained—The Wharf of Souls. An artist built it to honor the local belief that the souls of the dead sail away to the next life on ghost ships from this headland.”
A lot of souls are also coming to Chiloé today. After centuries of relative obscurity, Chile’s second-largest island (after Tierra del Fuego) has a new airport, bringing its natural beauty into easy reach. The island is clearly catching on with international travelers. “It is charming, it is real, and it has interesting people,” an Argentine friend told me. “You’d better go now.”
Compared with the rugged peaks of Patagonia, the lunar landscapes of the Atacama Desert or the steep ski slopes of the Andes, Chiloé is subtle and soothing, with rolling hills and meadows where sheep graze and wildflowers bloom. It has echoes of Ireland and of Oregon’s coastline.
My hotel, the architecturally striking Tierra Chiloé, is set on an isolated perch along the island’s coastline and resembles a soaring wooden wing about to swoop over the sapphire-blue Gulf of Ancud. The long brush stroke of the Andes can be seen in the far distance. With only 12 rooms, all on the second floor, the hotel is intimate—like staying at a friend’s estate. On the ground floor, glass walls offer a 270-degree panorama, and a large living area, dining room and reception space are designed in an open, minimalist style.
BODY & SOUL | Fare at a food stall at the pier in DalcahueENLARGE
BODY & SOUL | Fare at a food stall at the pier in Dalcahue PHOTO: ROGER TOLL
Before I arrived, I had wondered how I would fill my three full days on the island, beyond kicking back with a good book and a nice Chilean wine. That concern vanished as soon as the head guide met with me to discuss the beefy menu of excursions. Sipping a cold Pisco Sour, I whittled the list of possibilities down to hiking nature trails, sea kayaking in nearby bays, exploring some of the dozens of 18th- and 19th-century wooden churches that are collectively designated a Unesco World Heritage Site and exploring the archipelago on the hotel’s 55-foot motor yacht.
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Separated from the mainland, Chiloé has long been a place apart and still feels it today. The Spanish arrived in 1567, blending both their beliefs and their DNA with the indigenous people. The result of this fusion is a population of independent-minded seafarers and sheep farmers with a distinct dialect, a credo of self-reliance, and a religion that mixes indigenous beliefs and Catholicism. The island’s cuisine is also unique, with razor clam and abalone empanadas and an apple cake called torta chilota topping the list of dishes I sampled at local eateries.
Chiloé is subtle and soothing, with echoes of Ireland and Oregon.
Part of Tierra Chiloé’s mission is to introduce guests to local culture and people. For instance, Mr. Toledo took me to the neighboring island of Quinchao, where we lunched in the large, weathered, wooden home of Iris Montaña, its fourth-generation owner. As we walked through the Victorian-style rooms, the floors creaked and sepia-toned portraits of her grandparents watched us from the walls. I felt I was in a Gabriel García Márquez novel. “This has always been a cultured town,” Ms. Montaña said as we sat at her kitchen table and she explained the local customs and shared stories of forest gnomes.
From there, we visited the ten-acre farm of a mestizo woman, Sandra Nayman, who produces garlic and several indigenous varieties of potato. “Chiloé is one of only two places on earth where the potato was found in ancient times,” she said. “The other is Peru.” I had eaten a few of the colored, fingerling-size potatoes, at the hotel and was struck by their creamy texture and rich taste, quite different from any potato I’d eaten before. Two hundred of the indigenous varieties are still cultivated on Chiloé.
Kayaks aboard the hotel’s 55-foot motor yacht.ENLARGE
Kayaks aboard the hotel’s 55-foot motor yacht.PHOTO: ROGER TOLL
The wooden churches of the archipelago were built during the 18th and 19th centuries by local boatbuilders and have resisted to a remarkable degree centuries of the humid, rainy climate. They are compelling examples of ecclesiastical architecture, and well deserving of their Unesco designation.
How long, I wonder, can the things that make Chiloé unique—the products of time and isolation—resist the island’s growing popularity? Can the locals withstand the influx of outsiders? Will its beautiful, historic churches, the patinated shingle exteriors of its buildings and the cows and sheep that live in their owner’s front yards be as charmingly idiosyncratic after tourism takes hold? New hotels are already being built, and the island’s trademark pastel-hued waterside stilt houses, known locally as los palafitos, are being converted into coffee houses, boutiques and polished restaurants.
Yes, I worry about the effects of tourism on isolated places. But I plead guilty to hypocrisy, too. After four days of being coddled, I admit that gentrification, a side effect of tourism, has its advantages: good guides, good food and good beds among them.
You’d better go now.

THE LOWDOWN // LUXURY IN THE WILD OFF THE COAST OF CHILE

GREAT PANES | The living room at Tierra ChiloéENLARGE
GREAT PANES | The living room at Tierra Chiloé PHOTO: ROGER TOLL
Getting There: Several airlines, including Lan, United, Delta and American, offer nonstop flights to Santiago from U.S. gateways. Lan and Sky fly from Santiago to Puerto Montt, where Tierra Chiloé picks guests up for a four-hour drive and ferry ride to the hotel. Lan also flies between Santiago and Chiloé’s capital, Castro, where the hotel will pick up guests for the 30-minute transfer.
ENLARGE
Staying There: Tierra Chiloé’s rates include all meals, drinks and activities. A guide will help you plan your days on the island after you arrive(from $1,290 per night,tierrachiloe.com).
Eating There: The hotel’s chef features organic, local ingredients, including Chiloé’s remarkably creamy potatoes and fresh fish. On most excursions, guides bring along picnic lunches and hot soup. Chiloé has many small restaurants and food shacks where you can sample the local fare.
When to Go: The southern hemisphere’s summer months—December through February, when temperatures range from 66 to 76 with occasional rains—are ideal. At other times, rain is common and temperatures more moderate. Don’t forget a rain/wind jacket and a hat.