BIG IN JAPAN
Kappa �
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| Illustration by Marco Mancini |
Aquatic bipeds with beaks,
kappa inhabit ponds and rivers throughout Japan and are distinguished by a liquid-filled
crater on their heads, rimmed with a bush of spiky hair. Kappa have been known to do good
things for humans; that is when they are not engaged in impish activities like pulling up
women' dresses, expelling gas loudly or whiling away the hours over a leisurely game of shogi
(Japanese chess).
An adult kappa stands at 1.5m and resembles a hybrid of a human and a tortoise - not only
due to its reptilian visage but also because its anatomy includes a large shell that
encases its back. The imp's scaly flesh is yellow-green but like a chameleon, the kappa is
blessed with muscle-like cells that enable it to change into a myriad of colors. With
webbed fingers and toes, the kappa is adept in the water and is particularly robust due to
the life-sustaining elixir that brims in its cranial orifice. If the liquid spills, the
sprite weakens proportionally.
Kappa still need to eat though, and will consume all manner of beasts including horses,
cattle and even humans. With the finesse of a human teenager vacuuming down a milkshake,
the kappa sucks out the entrails of its prey, leaving nothing behind save a hollow gourd
bobbing in the water. As they like nothing better than a fresh juicy child, it is common
to find signs near bodies of water warning of imminent danger.
The only food that the kappa finds more delicious than a child is the cucumber - the
popular dish kappamaki (sushi rolls filled with cucumber) takes it name from the
kappa. During bathing season, wary human parents inscribe the names of their children on
cucumbers and toss them into kappa-infested waters. This is supposed to appease the imp
and discourage it from pouncing when it encounters the listed children.
According to the skeptics who believe the water-sprites are mythological, the first kappa
were actually leech-babies - the term applied to still-born infants set afloat in rivers.
An alternative theory came with the appearance of Portuguese monks in the 16th century.
Clad in hooded cloaks with hoods that hung down their backs like the kappa's tortoise
shell, the monk's shaven pate surrounded by a crown of hair also resembled the kappa's
hair-rimmed crater of water. Capa, the Portuguese word for the monk's habit, was applied
to the sprite and remains in use today.
Kappa is also the word for the traditional straw raincoat worn by farmers. Tokyo's
Kappabashi (Kappa-bridge) was once farmland surrounded by canals prone to flooding. In the
late Edo period a raincoat dealer Kappaya Kihachi devoted his entire personal fortune to
building a drainage system. This difficult work took longer than expected and cost a
fortune, and he was in despair until a kappa, whose life he had saved years before,
suddenly appeared to help. With the kappa's assistance the project was completed in short
order. In addition, those who had seen the Kappa were suddenly blessed with good fortune
and soon the Kappa Temple was built, and the kappa enshrined as a deity.
Over the last fifty years, the Kappa population has suffered a steady decline as the
rivers and canals they inhabit disappear. Some claim this is a good thing - kappa are evil
sprites with a taste for human flesh and a penchant for mischief. Defenders of the kappa
proclaim that, "Even a kappa can get carried away by the river!" And this
business about the water-imp being evil could just be much ado about nothing or Kappa
no he (a water-imp's fart).
Janet Leigh Foster
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BIG IN JAPAN: