There are several Buddhist temples in Italy. One of them is Fudenji, located in Parma province in the Emilia-Romagna region.
You get there by driving south out of Milan for about an hour. As soon as you get off the highway, you’ll see a huge outlet mall in front of you. You’ll immediately start picturing all the clothes and handbags you want to buy and start to head towards it, but at the last second you’ll catch yourself and remember that you need to say NO to worldly desires today, because you came here to go to a temple, not a mall. Keep driving.
Of course once the worldly desires start, there’s no end to them in Parma. There’s the delicious ham they sell here and plenty of top-notch places to eat—so even if you quash the desires once there is really no end to the temptation. I have a weakness for food so, I wasn’t able to pass those delights up.
The Emilia-Romagna region is a showcase of traditional cuisine with all kinds of wonderful ingredients. The red wine is delicious, and they even make a rare red sparkling wine here as well. It’s delightful chilled, and pairs well with Parma prosciutto to nibble on… before I know it I’m endlessly wandering around shopping.
Back to our actual destination, though.
You head into a rural area surrounded by rolling hills and eventually reach Fudenji. They practice Soto Zen Buddhism here, and offer training in zazen meditation.
The temple was built by an Italian who was trained in Japan, and then came back to open a training hall here. It is located in a quiet rural area and has a meditation hall, lecture hall, lodging, gardens, and a judo dojo.
On the day I visited, they were having a memorial service for Cesare Barioli, known as one of the greats of Italian judo. As part of the event, they had invited the Japanese judo practitioner Hiroshi Katanishi, who teaches judo to officers at a Swiss police academy, to come teach a three-day judo seminar.
It was a day full of memorable occurrences. The Italian monks chanted sutras during the memorial service for Cesare Barioli, and though they were speaking in Italian, it seemed completely natural—and actually easier to understand than listening to the monks back home chant them in Japanese.
I was also lucky enough to get a chance to speak to the judo sensei personally. We talked about his life mission, the similarities between judo and music, what made judo special, and so on. It was a short conversation, but I surprised myself by actually wanting to try judo after we spoke.
Cesare Barioli’s grave is on the temple grounds, and I imagined that he was happily listening to us as we chatted.
