My dear friends, I have not abandoned you.
I'm actually in Kitakyushu for a few days for training. I'm learning all of the things that would have been nice to know before I started teaching. Such as, did you know that it is impolite to blow your nose in public? You're supposed to leave the room or at the very least hide in a corner or something. That would have been nice to know a couple months ago when I had a cold. Oddly enough however, It is not impolite if you have a runny nose to constantly sniff even if someone is talking to you. It's so gross and annoying. I constantly want to shove a box of kleenex at people as they sniffle throughout the day. Just blow your d**n nose!
I've also discovered that about a quarter of the paperwork that I am supposed to be filling out I've been doing wrong. And I've realized that I am expected to bring gifts - usually some kind of cookies or something - to my schools since I've done a little traveling over the break. This is a very gift giving culture. I'm going to have to hit the stores at the railway station to find something that I can pass off as purchased in Kyoto.
On the other hand, since I've already been teaching for four months, I do know a lot of what they are going through and am occasionally asked to speak as a voice of experience for the new teachers coming in. That's always fun :)
Anyway, sorry for my recent absence and I'll try to get a new post up soon. Thanks for reading!
- Jenny
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Kyoto: The Finale
I woke the next day to find it raining. By the time I left the hostel, however, the rain had tapered off, leaving the almost unbearable humidity in it's place.
My first destination was a Buddhist temple in the southwest part of the city named Rengeo-in temple. Rengeo-in translates to the mythic sounding, ‘Hall of the Lotus King.’ However, no one knows it by that name. Rather, on all of the maps and guide books – including the pamphlet provided when I purchased a ticket, the temple is called Sanjusangen-do, which translates to ‘Hall with Thirty-Three Spaces Between Columns.’ Not quite as poetic, but perhaps more appropriate for the unremarkable looking building.
I wasn’t sure what to expect. The Irish couple I was rooming with had conflicting opinions on the temple. Sarah said it was her favorite, while Joe thought it was fairly boring. After seeing it, I am firmly on Sarah’s side. I understand why Joe didn’t care for it, since he was all about the gardens and the wonders of Sanjusangen-do have little to do with it’s gardens. It’s treasures reside inside the temple.
Sanjusangen-do was first built in 1164, but the original building was lost in a fire and was rebuilt in 1266. Inside the temple are 1001 statues of the Buddhist deity, Juichimen-senjusengen Kanzeon, often referred to by the easier to say, 'Thousand Armed Kannon'. I don’t think I can really explain how awesome the sight of all of these statues is. In a room the size of a football field, there’s one gigantic seated statue and 1000 life sized statues of Kannon standing on either side in 10 rows of 50. The large sitting statue and 124 of the standing statues were from the original temple, rescued from the fire. The remaining 876 were made in the 13th century when the temple was renovated. And if this wasn’t quite enough, there are 28 statues of guardian deities from the 13 & 14th centuries lined up in front of the Kannon. The two most famous are Fujin and Raijin, the Wind God and the Thunder God that are placed at either side of the temple hall on raised pedestals of cloud shape. The craftsmanship in all of these statues is truly magnificent. Unfortunately, they don’t allow cameras in the temple, so you’ll just have go there and see it yourself. You won’t be disappointed.
One kind of funny thing happened while I was there. As I was shuffling slowly down the room with all of the other visitors, one man strode by purposefully paying no attention to any of the remarkable sights until he stopped in front of the statue that was labeled the Buddhist deity of musicians. He stood there with his head bowed for several minutes, then walked away without a glance to anything else. Dressed in a sharp business suit and carrying a briefcase, he spent money to do nothing but pray to the deity of musicians. It’s funny.
After I left Sanjusangen-do, I spent some at the Kyoto National Museum across the street. Then I walked a little ways to Chishakuin Temple, a nice temple, but nothing special. Afterwards, I walked back towards the Gion district and bought some takoyaki (octopus dumplings) from the ubiquitous takoyaki street vendors. I spent the rest of the afternoon viewing so many temples, shrines, and gardens – to the point where I was pretty much templed and gardened out. They all start running together, but I will say the gardens of Heian shrine were pretty spectacular. I did some shopping at the Kyoto Handicrafts Hall and finally headed back to the hostel to clean up for the evening.
As I said in my previous post, I had made plans with the Irish couple, Joe & Sarah, to go to an English pub they had heard about, The Bull and Steer. Joining us were Robert, the language student from Missouri, and two girls from California that replaced the French girls in our room the night before. In the category of It’s a Small World After All, these girls, Abbey & Meg, were from Pasadena, California and lived only a few blocks from where I lived when was there. In fact, we decided it was very possible that we had crossed paths before. The fish and chips weren’t quite traditional, but the atmosphere was good and the company was fun. This was my last night in Kyoto and I had a great time.
The next day, I relaxed and finished up a bit of shopping. I had an early lunch at a Chinese restaurant I had seen the day before. I ordered shark fin broth with roasted pork and vegetables and not for the first time did I wish it was a cool, autumn evening. It was so rich, but it was delicious.
I grabbed my bags from the hostel and headed to the train station. It was back to Kumamoto for me. But, I hope I can go back to Kyoto one day. I left a good many things I still want to see.
- Jenny
My first destination was a Buddhist temple in the southwest part of the city named Rengeo-in temple. Rengeo-in translates to the mythic sounding, ‘Hall of the Lotus King.’ However, no one knows it by that name. Rather, on all of the maps and guide books – including the pamphlet provided when I purchased a ticket, the temple is called Sanjusangen-do, which translates to ‘Hall with Thirty-Three Spaces Between Columns.’ Not quite as poetic, but perhaps more appropriate for the unremarkable looking building.
I wasn’t sure what to expect. The Irish couple I was rooming with had conflicting opinions on the temple. Sarah said it was her favorite, while Joe thought it was fairly boring. After seeing it, I am firmly on Sarah’s side. I understand why Joe didn’t care for it, since he was all about the gardens and the wonders of Sanjusangen-do have little to do with it’s gardens. It’s treasures reside inside the temple.
Sanjusangen-do was first built in 1164, but the original building was lost in a fire and was rebuilt in 1266. Inside the temple are 1001 statues of the Buddhist deity, Juichimen-senjusengen Kanzeon, often referred to by the easier to say, 'Thousand Armed Kannon'. I don’t think I can really explain how awesome the sight of all of these statues is. In a room the size of a football field, there’s one gigantic seated statue and 1000 life sized statues of Kannon standing on either side in 10 rows of 50. The large sitting statue and 124 of the standing statues were from the original temple, rescued from the fire. The remaining 876 were made in the 13th century when the temple was renovated. And if this wasn’t quite enough, there are 28 statues of guardian deities from the 13 & 14th centuries lined up in front of the Kannon. The two most famous are Fujin and Raijin, the Wind God and the Thunder God that are placed at either side of the temple hall on raised pedestals of cloud shape. The craftsmanship in all of these statues is truly magnificent. Unfortunately, they don’t allow cameras in the temple, so you’ll just have go there and see it yourself. You won’t be disappointed.
One kind of funny thing happened while I was there. As I was shuffling slowly down the room with all of the other visitors, one man strode by purposefully paying no attention to any of the remarkable sights until he stopped in front of the statue that was labeled the Buddhist deity of musicians. He stood there with his head bowed for several minutes, then walked away without a glance to anything else. Dressed in a sharp business suit and carrying a briefcase, he spent money to do nothing but pray to the deity of musicians. It’s funny.
After I left Sanjusangen-do, I spent some at the Kyoto National Museum across the street. Then I walked a little ways to Chishakuin Temple, a nice temple, but nothing special. Afterwards, I walked back towards the Gion district and bought some takoyaki (octopus dumplings) from the ubiquitous takoyaki street vendors. I spent the rest of the afternoon viewing so many temples, shrines, and gardens – to the point where I was pretty much templed and gardened out. They all start running together, but I will say the gardens of Heian shrine were pretty spectacular. I did some shopping at the Kyoto Handicrafts Hall and finally headed back to the hostel to clean up for the evening.
As I said in my previous post, I had made plans with the Irish couple, Joe & Sarah, to go to an English pub they had heard about, The Bull and Steer. Joining us were Robert, the language student from Missouri, and two girls from California that replaced the French girls in our room the night before. In the category of It’s a Small World After All, these girls, Abbey & Meg, were from Pasadena, California and lived only a few blocks from where I lived when was there. In fact, we decided it was very possible that we had crossed paths before. The fish and chips weren’t quite traditional, but the atmosphere was good and the company was fun. This was my last night in Kyoto and I had a great time.
The next day, I relaxed and finished up a bit of shopping. I had an early lunch at a Chinese restaurant I had seen the day before. I ordered shark fin broth with roasted pork and vegetables and not for the first time did I wish it was a cool, autumn evening. It was so rich, but it was delicious.
I grabbed my bags from the hostel and headed to the train station. It was back to Kumamoto for me. But, I hope I can go back to Kyoto one day. I left a good many things I still want to see.
- Jenny
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Kyoto: Day 1, part 3
Warning: Content may not be suitable for children or grandma : )
Night-time in Kyoto is definitely when I wished for a traveling companion the most. I had returned to the hostel to take a much needed shower and hopefully meet up with some of my roommates. Unfortunately, they were all already out for the evening, so I plucked up my courage, slipped on my sundress, and headed out to the neon lit, crowded streets of Kyoto.
I had already seen a lot of the Gion district, so I decided to head in the opposite direction across the Kamo River. I walked about four or five blocks down Shijo Street before I came upon a large shopping arcade. Just one amongst hundreds, I had a good time wandering through the shops and taking in all of my surroundings. I was also keeping an eye out for something to eat.
Finding a good restaurant is not an easy process. In my experiences so far, the best Japanese food can usually be found in some small hole in the wall that you can only find if you’ve already been there before. I also get a little self-conscious when I’m in a Japanese restaurant by myself. I somehow feel like I’m being watched and judged, therefore I’m more likely to stick to the dishes I’m familiar with and less likely to discover anything new. That said, I found several foreign restaurants that looked interesting: Tandoori chicken and bhatoora at an Indian restaurant, lamb kebabs at a Turkish restaurant.
Eventually, I found myself at a restaurant called Paris 21e. Despite the name, the food was much more Mediterranean than French, and I was hooked by a delicious looking paella in their display. (Many, if not most, restaurants in Japan display plastic versions of their food to attract customers. It’s weird, but I have found it do be a great help when deciding on a place to eat.) Anyway, I hadn’t had a good paella in a long time and was very excited about it. Paris 21e also had a good selection of imported beers which was welcome – I don’t mind Japanese beer, but I was definitely in the mood for something darker. So I enjoyed paella with some of the best garlic bread I’ve ever had and a couple pints of Birra Moretti La Rossa. It was delicious. Now, before you scoff my lack of adventure in ordering something I’ve already had before, let me say that I’ve never had paella quite like this. It had the usual clams and mussels, but the shrimp was whole and unpeeled. I’ve never eaten shrimp like that and let me say, it was quite a challenge. There was also some Serrano ham which was an interesting touch and what I believe were escargot. You read correctly. I’m not positive, but that’s certainly what it looked like and escargot was on the menu, so I’m fairly confident that’s what it was. They actually resembled mussels in flavor and texture.
By the time I left Paris 21e, most of the shops along the arcade were closing and everyone was abandoning the brightly lit shopping areas for the bars, etc. which, unfortunately for me are located in what we would call small, dark alleyways off the main streets. Kyoto, and Japan as a whole, is much safer than the average American city, but I still didn’t feel entirely comfortable wandering around dark alleys by myself, so I stuck to the larger, slightly more populated streets. And despite the large number of tourists and Westerners in Kyoto, I still got a lot of looks as I walked around and the later it got, and the more the people on streets had been drinking, I had many different people trying to talk to me. There was a particularly amusing man who claimed to be from Cuba and was in Japan for a judo competition. He was a little in his cups, but essentially harmless and his teammates dragged him away after a minute or so. I also had a lot of Japanese guys stop as they saw me coming and wait until I reached them, then wave and say ‘hi’ very enthusiastically. It was kind of funny at first, but got a little annoying after a while. At one point, after a couple of guys flanked me and said ‘hi’ very loudly, I replied ‘Iie’ and kept walking. ('Hai' in Japanese– pronounced the same as 'hi' in English – means 'yes'. 'Iie' means 'no'.) I felt bad. They were just trying to be friendly.
Anyway, I decided I wanted to try and recreate the Lost in Translation scene with Bill Murray in the hotel bar. Unfortunately, I was told that most of the bars in the bigger name hotels in Kyoto have a one-time 3500 yen charge – that’s about $35 - and a four hour limit. It’s a great deal if you’ve got the time and desire to drink enough to make it worth it, but I wasn’t looking for anything like that. Instead, I found a place called Hello Dolly which advertised to be a jazz bar. Close enough, I thought. Instead of a bad lounge singer in the background, there was Bill Evans on vinyl. And instead of a large room with a view of the city, this was a tiny room with just enough room for a bar and eight barstools – fairly typical for a bar in Japan. Behind the bar was the owner, a middle aged woman who spoke excellent English, and a young man who was bartending. On my side of the bar, I was joined by four older gentlemen, obviously salarymen who had just finished their day of work. I contemplated ordering Santory whiskey like Bob Harris, but found that I just couldn’t do it when they had perfectly good Scotch behind the counter. So I enjoyed a couple glasses of Glenfiddich, Bill Evans on the piano, and the oddly relaxing cadences of the Japanese conversations going on around me. Occasionally, I could catch bits and pieces of what they were saying and they asked me several questions which the owner translated. When they found out I was from America, many of them told me about the time they or some member of their family visited the States.
All in all, I had a good time and though the nightlife was only just getting started when I got back to the hostel a little after 11 o’clock, I was happy to change into my pajamas and get ready for bed. Happily, I made plans with a few of my roommate for the next night. They were going to take me to an English pub they found.
- Jenny
Night-time in Kyoto is definitely when I wished for a traveling companion the most. I had returned to the hostel to take a much needed shower and hopefully meet up with some of my roommates. Unfortunately, they were all already out for the evening, so I plucked up my courage, slipped on my sundress, and headed out to the neon lit, crowded streets of Kyoto.
I had already seen a lot of the Gion district, so I decided to head in the opposite direction across the Kamo River. I walked about four or five blocks down Shijo Street before I came upon a large shopping arcade. Just one amongst hundreds, I had a good time wandering through the shops and taking in all of my surroundings. I was also keeping an eye out for something to eat.
Finding a good restaurant is not an easy process. In my experiences so far, the best Japanese food can usually be found in some small hole in the wall that you can only find if you’ve already been there before. I also get a little self-conscious when I’m in a Japanese restaurant by myself. I somehow feel like I’m being watched and judged, therefore I’m more likely to stick to the dishes I’m familiar with and less likely to discover anything new. That said, I found several foreign restaurants that looked interesting: Tandoori chicken and bhatoora at an Indian restaurant, lamb kebabs at a Turkish restaurant.
Eventually, I found myself at a restaurant called Paris 21e. Despite the name, the food was much more Mediterranean than French, and I was hooked by a delicious looking paella in their display. (Many, if not most, restaurants in Japan display plastic versions of their food to attract customers. It’s weird, but I have found it do be a great help when deciding on a place to eat.) Anyway, I hadn’t had a good paella in a long time and was very excited about it. Paris 21e also had a good selection of imported beers which was welcome – I don’t mind Japanese beer, but I was definitely in the mood for something darker. So I enjoyed paella with some of the best garlic bread I’ve ever had and a couple pints of Birra Moretti La Rossa. It was delicious. Now, before you scoff my lack of adventure in ordering something I’ve already had before, let me say that I’ve never had paella quite like this. It had the usual clams and mussels, but the shrimp was whole and unpeeled. I’ve never eaten shrimp like that and let me say, it was quite a challenge. There was also some Serrano ham which was an interesting touch and what I believe were escargot. You read correctly. I’m not positive, but that’s certainly what it looked like and escargot was on the menu, so I’m fairly confident that’s what it was. They actually resembled mussels in flavor and texture.
By the time I left Paris 21e, most of the shops along the arcade were closing and everyone was abandoning the brightly lit shopping areas for the bars, etc. which, unfortunately for me are located in what we would call small, dark alleyways off the main streets. Kyoto, and Japan as a whole, is much safer than the average American city, but I still didn’t feel entirely comfortable wandering around dark alleys by myself, so I stuck to the larger, slightly more populated streets. And despite the large number of tourists and Westerners in Kyoto, I still got a lot of looks as I walked around and the later it got, and the more the people on streets had been drinking, I had many different people trying to talk to me. There was a particularly amusing man who claimed to be from Cuba and was in Japan for a judo competition. He was a little in his cups, but essentially harmless and his teammates dragged him away after a minute or so. I also had a lot of Japanese guys stop as they saw me coming and wait until I reached them, then wave and say ‘hi’ very enthusiastically. It was kind of funny at first, but got a little annoying after a while. At one point, after a couple of guys flanked me and said ‘hi’ very loudly, I replied ‘Iie’ and kept walking. ('Hai' in Japanese– pronounced the same as 'hi' in English – means 'yes'. 'Iie' means 'no'.) I felt bad. They were just trying to be friendly.
Anyway, I decided I wanted to try and recreate the Lost in Translation scene with Bill Murray in the hotel bar. Unfortunately, I was told that most of the bars in the bigger name hotels in Kyoto have a one-time 3500 yen charge – that’s about $35 - and a four hour limit. It’s a great deal if you’ve got the time and desire to drink enough to make it worth it, but I wasn’t looking for anything like that. Instead, I found a place called Hello Dolly which advertised to be a jazz bar. Close enough, I thought. Instead of a bad lounge singer in the background, there was Bill Evans on vinyl. And instead of a large room with a view of the city, this was a tiny room with just enough room for a bar and eight barstools – fairly typical for a bar in Japan. Behind the bar was the owner, a middle aged woman who spoke excellent English, and a young man who was bartending. On my side of the bar, I was joined by four older gentlemen, obviously salarymen who had just finished their day of work. I contemplated ordering Santory whiskey like Bob Harris, but found that I just couldn’t do it when they had perfectly good Scotch behind the counter. So I enjoyed a couple glasses of Glenfiddich, Bill Evans on the piano, and the oddly relaxing cadences of the Japanese conversations going on around me. Occasionally, I could catch bits and pieces of what they were saying and they asked me several questions which the owner translated. When they found out I was from America, many of them told me about the time they or some member of their family visited the States.
All in all, I had a good time and though the nightlife was only just getting started when I got back to the hostel a little after 11 o’clock, I was happy to change into my pajamas and get ready for bed. Happily, I made plans with a few of my roommate for the next night. They were going to take me to an English pub they found.
- Jenny
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Kyoto: Day 1, part 2
As I’m dropping my bags off at the hostel, I’ll take a moment to discuss the weather. In the month prior, whenever I mentioned my plans to visit Kyoto to my co-workers, the first word out of all of their mouths was, ‘atsui’ meaning ‘hot.’ So, I checked out weather.com and found out that although Kyoto looked to be on average about five to seven degrees hotter than Kumamoto, the humidity was not quite as bad. I wasn’t worried. Then of course, the entire time I was in Kyoto, the temperatures dropped and the humidity skyrocketed to the point of constantly threatening and only occasionally producing rain. Oppressive, muggy, yuckiness.
The weather did provide a fascinating contrast in fashion between Japanese women and Westerners, however. With temperatures in the high eighties to low nineties and humidity hovering around 80%, most Westerners including myself were clothed in as little as possible. Tank tops and shorts seemed to be the common uniform. Japanese women, however, are fervent believers in layering and so many pairs of opera-length gloves have not be seen in the La Scala on opening night, nor wide-brimmed hats at the Royal Ascot, than can be seen in a square kilometer in Kyoto on a Wednesday afternoon. They are absolutely terrified of the sun. I actually had a couple of my co-workers ask me once if I wasn’t scared of skin cancer since I only wore my sunglasses when we spent about an hour outside for Sports Day rehearsal. I didn’t say anything, but I reflected that their concerns might hold more weight if they weren’t both on their second smoke break of the day and it was only 10 ‘clock. And the fact that skin whitening cream can be found lining the shelves of every drugstore. It’s true. You would think given my glow-in-the-dark Irish skin, I would be ecstatic to be in a country where pale skin is valued so highly. Instead, it’s kind of frustrating to see these women who could tan so beautifully, be so fearful of it, where any attempt I made to tan would resemble putting a fork in the microwave – lots of sparks and pain.
Anyway, I seem to have gotten off-track. After dropping off a few things I’d bought at the hostel, I headed south towards a temple I had heard much about, Kiyomizu-dera. It looked to be only about a 15 to 20 minutes away by foot, I decided to walk and see if I could find something to eat on the way. The heat was actually a very efficient deterrent to hunger, so I ended up just stopping at one of the numerous street venders and purchasing some mochi (rice paste) grilled on a stick and wrapped in nori (seaweed). It’s not my favorite Japanese food, but it wasn’t bad and was certainly filling.
The 20-minute walk became more like an hour as I wandered small back streets and alleys. My map only showed the main roads, and as you’ve probably figured out by now, I usually stay away from the obvious routes. I knew I was headed in the right direction, so I didn’t worry too much. Along the way, I came upon several small shrines. One seemed to have something to pigs. It was filled with statues of wild boars, large and small.
Finally, I came upon a small street lined with shops that led uphill to Kiyomizu-dera, the shrine that many of my co-workers had recommended I check out. Kiyomizu means ‘clear water’ and refers to the waterfall in the complex. The temple complex sits on a hill overlooking Kyoto and provides some of the prettiest views of the city. Surrounded by a forest on three sides and the city on the fourth, it’s a fascinating contrast between the ‘natural’ and ‘man made’ Japan.
One of the first buildings I encountered on the complex housed what they called the ‘Heart of Buddha.’ This ‘heart’ is actually a large polished rock that you’re supposed to rub and make a wish on. It sounded easy enough, until I removed my shoes and started to head down the hallway that led to the ‘Heart of Buddha.’ “The body of Buddha is dark,” the women who sold me the ticket said. “Hold onto the rope lining the hall.” Dark does not begin to describe it. I literally could not see my own hand if I touched my nose. I’ve never felt so terrified. The hallway angled downwards and though I knew intellectually that there wouldn’t be any stairs – the Japanese might not be as litigious as Americans, but the liability issues of a staircase in pitch darkness are beyond imagination – still, I shuffled my feet slowly, moving only inches a step as I continued down. Finally after about five minutes – my heart beating pounding in my ears – I saw a spotlight in front of me revealing the ‘Heart of Buddha.’ I guess the terror you go through to reach this spot is something of a test to make ensure your worthiness to make a wish on the relic. Thankfully, the way back was a softly-lit staircase. 15 seconds and I was back in the sun, never so happy to have it’s rays pouring down on me.
I followed the paths of the grounds taking lots of pictures of the cityscape from the overlooking hills when I finally came upon the waterfall that gave the temple it’s name. There is a small structure beneath the falls that divides the water into three channels that spill into pond below. Visitors can collect the water in small cups on poles and it is said that if one drinks from all three streams he or she will enjoy wisdom, health, and longevity. I read, however, that some Japanese thought that the gods would curse with misfortune those who were so greedy as to drink from all three streams. I decided to drink from two and hope for health and wisdom. Longevity without either of the other two just doesn’t seem as attractive a prospect.
As I headed back to the hostel, I stopped in many of the small shops that border the temple. I realized from watching the multitudes of people walking through the streets that a small towel to wipe the sweat from your face and neck was really a necessity in Kyoto in the summer. So, I found a shop that had a small display of such towels – all the most tasteless, tourist trap things – but, they were cheap and therefore, perfect. There was Snoopy and Winnie the Pooh, but I decided if I was going kitsch, I was going all the way, and bought one that depicted Hello Kitty in a kimono walking along the streets of Kyoto all in a palette of hot pinks, oranges, lime greens, and electric blues. It’s quite something.
Well, back to the hostel I went to take a desperately needed shower and get ready to hit the town.
Next post – Kyoto after dark.
- Jenny
The weather did provide a fascinating contrast in fashion between Japanese women and Westerners, however. With temperatures in the high eighties to low nineties and humidity hovering around 80%, most Westerners including myself were clothed in as little as possible. Tank tops and shorts seemed to be the common uniform. Japanese women, however, are fervent believers in layering and so many pairs of opera-length gloves have not be seen in the La Scala on opening night, nor wide-brimmed hats at the Royal Ascot, than can be seen in a square kilometer in Kyoto on a Wednesday afternoon. They are absolutely terrified of the sun. I actually had a couple of my co-workers ask me once if I wasn’t scared of skin cancer since I only wore my sunglasses when we spent about an hour outside for Sports Day rehearsal. I didn’t say anything, but I reflected that their concerns might hold more weight if they weren’t both on their second smoke break of the day and it was only 10 ‘clock. And the fact that skin whitening cream can be found lining the shelves of every drugstore. It’s true. You would think given my glow-in-the-dark Irish skin, I would be ecstatic to be in a country where pale skin is valued so highly. Instead, it’s kind of frustrating to see these women who could tan so beautifully, be so fearful of it, where any attempt I made to tan would resemble putting a fork in the microwave – lots of sparks and pain.
Anyway, I seem to have gotten off-track. After dropping off a few things I’d bought at the hostel, I headed south towards a temple I had heard much about, Kiyomizu-dera. It looked to be only about a 15 to 20 minutes away by foot, I decided to walk and see if I could find something to eat on the way. The heat was actually a very efficient deterrent to hunger, so I ended up just stopping at one of the numerous street venders and purchasing some mochi (rice paste) grilled on a stick and wrapped in nori (seaweed). It’s not my favorite Japanese food, but it wasn’t bad and was certainly filling.
The 20-minute walk became more like an hour as I wandered small back streets and alleys. My map only showed the main roads, and as you’ve probably figured out by now, I usually stay away from the obvious routes. I knew I was headed in the right direction, so I didn’t worry too much. Along the way, I came upon several small shrines. One seemed to have something to pigs. It was filled with statues of wild boars, large and small.
Finally, I came upon a small street lined with shops that led uphill to Kiyomizu-dera, the shrine that many of my co-workers had recommended I check out. Kiyomizu means ‘clear water’ and refers to the waterfall in the complex. The temple complex sits on a hill overlooking Kyoto and provides some of the prettiest views of the city. Surrounded by a forest on three sides and the city on the fourth, it’s a fascinating contrast between the ‘natural’ and ‘man made’ Japan.
One of the first buildings I encountered on the complex housed what they called the ‘Heart of Buddha.’ This ‘heart’ is actually a large polished rock that you’re supposed to rub and make a wish on. It sounded easy enough, until I removed my shoes and started to head down the hallway that led to the ‘Heart of Buddha.’ “The body of Buddha is dark,” the women who sold me the ticket said. “Hold onto the rope lining the hall.” Dark does not begin to describe it. I literally could not see my own hand if I touched my nose. I’ve never felt so terrified. The hallway angled downwards and though I knew intellectually that there wouldn’t be any stairs – the Japanese might not be as litigious as Americans, but the liability issues of a staircase in pitch darkness are beyond imagination – still, I shuffled my feet slowly, moving only inches a step as I continued down. Finally after about five minutes – my heart beating pounding in my ears – I saw a spotlight in front of me revealing the ‘Heart of Buddha.’ I guess the terror you go through to reach this spot is something of a test to make ensure your worthiness to make a wish on the relic. Thankfully, the way back was a softly-lit staircase. 15 seconds and I was back in the sun, never so happy to have it’s rays pouring down on me.
I followed the paths of the grounds taking lots of pictures of the cityscape from the overlooking hills when I finally came upon the waterfall that gave the temple it’s name. There is a small structure beneath the falls that divides the water into three channels that spill into pond below. Visitors can collect the water in small cups on poles and it is said that if one drinks from all three streams he or she will enjoy wisdom, health, and longevity. I read, however, that some Japanese thought that the gods would curse with misfortune those who were so greedy as to drink from all three streams. I decided to drink from two and hope for health and wisdom. Longevity without either of the other two just doesn’t seem as attractive a prospect.
As I headed back to the hostel, I stopped in many of the small shops that border the temple. I realized from watching the multitudes of people walking through the streets that a small towel to wipe the sweat from your face and neck was really a necessity in Kyoto in the summer. So, I found a shop that had a small display of such towels – all the most tasteless, tourist trap things – but, they were cheap and therefore, perfect. There was Snoopy and Winnie the Pooh, but I decided if I was going kitsch, I was going all the way, and bought one that depicted Hello Kitty in a kimono walking along the streets of Kyoto all in a palette of hot pinks, oranges, lime greens, and electric blues. It’s quite something.
Well, back to the hostel I went to take a desperately needed shower and get ready to hit the town.
Next post – Kyoto after dark.
- Jenny
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
A Quick Olympic Break
I’ve mentioned before how much I love the Olympics, so it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise to hear how excited I was when I realized that in Japan, I would be able to watch them in real time, rather than tape delayed. What I didn’t realize was that the Japanese coverage of the Olympic games would be much different than American coverage.
In these first few days, I have watched more hours of judo than I ever imagined I would. And I have to admit that I still don’t have any better understanding of judo than before. The competitors look like schoolchildren on the playground, slapping away the other’s hands and trying to sweep their feet from under each other. And just as it seems to get interesting, the schoolteacher (or referee in this case) blows their whistle and breaks them up. There’s also some point system that despite my best efforts to understand, appears to be completely arbitrary.
Badminton is also another popular Olympic sport here in Japan. Unfortunately, it is only slightly more comprehensible, but no more interesting to me, especially since they only seem to show one match over and over again – Japan wiping the floor with China in the women’s double badminton quarterfinals.
Speaking of watching things over and over, I have watched Japanese swimmer Kosuke Kitajima win the men’s 100 m breast stroke about 15 times. And I have see his 5-minute post race interview in which he cries into his towel for about 4 and a half minutes about ten times. And then, to dispel any mistaken belief that the American media has cornered the market on sappy Olympic coverage, the Japanese not only aired the post race reactions of Kitajima’s coach, mother, sister, father, guy that gave him a piece of candy when he was five years old, etc. (all of whose reactions can be described as hysterical), they also appeared to have a camera on each of these people during the race and insisted on airing each of those on split screen with the race as well. Now that I think about it, I’ve probably seen the race close to 25 times.
Luckily, in the last day or so, we seem to be getting more swimming. I have seen all of Michael Phelps races, including the incredible men’s 4 x 100 m freestyle relay – forget Phelps, that Lezak is amazing. And once more, the French surrender.
I love the Olympics.
- Jenny
In these first few days, I have watched more hours of judo than I ever imagined I would. And I have to admit that I still don’t have any better understanding of judo than before. The competitors look like schoolchildren on the playground, slapping away the other’s hands and trying to sweep their feet from under each other. And just as it seems to get interesting, the schoolteacher (or referee in this case) blows their whistle and breaks them up. There’s also some point system that despite my best efforts to understand, appears to be completely arbitrary.
Badminton is also another popular Olympic sport here in Japan. Unfortunately, it is only slightly more comprehensible, but no more interesting to me, especially since they only seem to show one match over and over again – Japan wiping the floor with China in the women’s double badminton quarterfinals.
Speaking of watching things over and over, I have watched Japanese swimmer Kosuke Kitajima win the men’s 100 m breast stroke about 15 times. And I have see his 5-minute post race interview in which he cries into his towel for about 4 and a half minutes about ten times. And then, to dispel any mistaken belief that the American media has cornered the market on sappy Olympic coverage, the Japanese not only aired the post race reactions of Kitajima’s coach, mother, sister, father, guy that gave him a piece of candy when he was five years old, etc. (all of whose reactions can be described as hysterical), they also appeared to have a camera on each of these people during the race and insisted on airing each of those on split screen with the race as well. Now that I think about it, I’ve probably seen the race close to 25 times.
Luckily, in the last day or so, we seem to be getting more swimming. I have seen all of Michael Phelps races, including the incredible men’s 4 x 100 m freestyle relay – forget Phelps, that Lezak is amazing. And once more, the French surrender.
I love the Olympics.
- Jenny
Monday, August 11, 2008
Kyoto: Day 1, part 1
For my first full day in Kyoto, I decided to begin with what the Yahoo Travel Guide ranked as the most visited spot in Kyoto, a temple with three names. The official name is Rykuon-ji, but all of the Kyoto maps and guide books refer to it as Kinkaku-ji, and tourists call it the Golden Pavilion Temple. Whatever it’s name, however, it is a breathtakingly beautiful Zen temple. I would say that it was my favorite, but I know that I would end of calling all of them my favorite, so I will say that Kinkaku-ji (that is the name on the bags from the souvenir shop, so that’s what I’ll go with) was the most impressive sight in Kyoto. The main building of the complex sits on a small island in the middle of the Mirror Pond. Three stories tall, the second and third levels are completely covered in gold-leaf on Japanese lacquer. I can say without exaggeration, that it took my breath away. And as beautiful as the temple is, the grounds are amazing as well.
Originally built in 1397 as a retirement villa for Shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu, Kinkaku-ji was converted to a Zen temple after his death. And as always, it was inspiring to think about how much history is represented by these buildings and grounds. As usual, however, I am reminded of the story of a man who claimed to own the axe that George Washington used to chop down the cherry tree. The handle had been replaced four times and the blade three times. It is often the same way with these temples and shrines. The present structure of the temple was built in 1955 after being burned down by a crazy monk. The most recent coating of gold-leaf was applied in 1987 and the roof was restored in 2003. For me though, none of this takes away from it’s beauty or it’s sense of history. I highly recommend placing this one on top on your list of places to see when visiting Japan. Until then, please enjoy my pictures on Flickr.com.
After Kinkaku-ji, I walked about 15 minutes southwest to Ryoan-ji. (For your information, ji means imperial temple.) Where no matter how beautiful the gardens of Kinkaku-ji, the temple will always be the main attraction, Ryoan-ji is exactly the opposite. The temple itself is rather non-descript. It’s fame comes from the 25 by 10 meter Zen rock garden enclosed in it’s walls. Consisting of white sand and fifteen black rocks, it is acknowledged as one of the masterpieces of Japanese culture. According to the literature, infinite teachings can be learnt from the garden and the longer one looks upon it, the further your imagination will take you. I will admit that the first 10 minutes of gazing on the garden, my thoughts were primarily sarcastic and cynical. After a bit of time however, I felt a deep sense of peace take over and I spent about half an hour there basking in relaxation with the other tourists who seemed to also feel the calm of the garden.
The grounds of Ryoan-ji itself are also quite serene, though the signs did there best to dissuade me from enjoying the best parts. There were many forks in the trails with a sign pointing one direction with the words, ‘usual route.’ Well, it’s like waving a red cape in front of a bull… or not, I’m not sure how well that metaphor works. Anyway, seeing a sign that says ‘usual route’ does nothing if not ensure that I will head off the opposite direction. And, of course, the unusual route was always the least scenic, so I would eventually double back to travel the usual route to see the best views. These experiences didn’t change my decision the next time I came upon a ‘usual route’ sign, however. Obstinate? I prefer adventurous.
Anyway, back to the grounds of Ryoan-ji, the main attraction is Kyoyochi Pond, made in the late twelfth century. Circled by a walking path and a couple rock bridges, the pond until recently was home to many mandarin ducks. Now it is mostly covered with water lilies. And from one side, you can spy a small rickety wooden covering sheltering a rickety wooden canoe as picturesquely placed as Stoppard’s old hermitage, and no doubt as authentic.
Heading back to the Kinkaku-ji bus stop, I passed the Kyoto Museum of Fine Arts and decided to check it out. Inside I enjoyed an interesting exhibit of scenes of prayer in Oriental art. Again, it was so amazing to see so much art and relics covering such a large expanse of history.
By this time, it was close to two o’clock, and I decided it was time to head back to the hostel and drop off the few souvenirs I had purchased and find something to eat.
Stay tuned for the second half of my first day in Kyoto. More temples, more gardens, and more unusual foods.
- Jenny
Originally built in 1397 as a retirement villa for Shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu, Kinkaku-ji was converted to a Zen temple after his death. And as always, it was inspiring to think about how much history is represented by these buildings and grounds. As usual, however, I am reminded of the story of a man who claimed to own the axe that George Washington used to chop down the cherry tree. The handle had been replaced four times and the blade three times. It is often the same way with these temples and shrines. The present structure of the temple was built in 1955 after being burned down by a crazy monk. The most recent coating of gold-leaf was applied in 1987 and the roof was restored in 2003. For me though, none of this takes away from it’s beauty or it’s sense of history. I highly recommend placing this one on top on your list of places to see when visiting Japan. Until then, please enjoy my pictures on Flickr.com.
After Kinkaku-ji, I walked about 15 minutes southwest to Ryoan-ji. (For your information, ji means imperial temple.) Where no matter how beautiful the gardens of Kinkaku-ji, the temple will always be the main attraction, Ryoan-ji is exactly the opposite. The temple itself is rather non-descript. It’s fame comes from the 25 by 10 meter Zen rock garden enclosed in it’s walls. Consisting of white sand and fifteen black rocks, it is acknowledged as one of the masterpieces of Japanese culture. According to the literature, infinite teachings can be learnt from the garden and the longer one looks upon it, the further your imagination will take you. I will admit that the first 10 minutes of gazing on the garden, my thoughts were primarily sarcastic and cynical. After a bit of time however, I felt a deep sense of peace take over and I spent about half an hour there basking in relaxation with the other tourists who seemed to also feel the calm of the garden.
The grounds of Ryoan-ji itself are also quite serene, though the signs did there best to dissuade me from enjoying the best parts. There were many forks in the trails with a sign pointing one direction with the words, ‘usual route.’ Well, it’s like waving a red cape in front of a bull… or not, I’m not sure how well that metaphor works. Anyway, seeing a sign that says ‘usual route’ does nothing if not ensure that I will head off the opposite direction. And, of course, the unusual route was always the least scenic, so I would eventually double back to travel the usual route to see the best views. These experiences didn’t change my decision the next time I came upon a ‘usual route’ sign, however. Obstinate? I prefer adventurous.
Anyway, back to the grounds of Ryoan-ji, the main attraction is Kyoyochi Pond, made in the late twelfth century. Circled by a walking path and a couple rock bridges, the pond until recently was home to many mandarin ducks. Now it is mostly covered with water lilies. And from one side, you can spy a small rickety wooden covering sheltering a rickety wooden canoe as picturesquely placed as Stoppard’s old hermitage, and no doubt as authentic.
Heading back to the Kinkaku-ji bus stop, I passed the Kyoto Museum of Fine Arts and decided to check it out. Inside I enjoyed an interesting exhibit of scenes of prayer in Oriental art. Again, it was so amazing to see so much art and relics covering such a large expanse of history.
By this time, it was close to two o’clock, and I decided it was time to head back to the hostel and drop off the few souvenirs I had purchased and find something to eat.
Stay tuned for the second half of my first day in Kyoto. More temples, more gardens, and more unusual foods.
- Jenny
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Ahh, The Sound of Chinese... Bagpipes?
I just sat down to continue writing about my adventures in Kyoto when my doorbell rang. It was one of my neighbors, Endoh-san, inviting me to watch the upcoming fireworks display at Kumamoto Castle with her from her 3rd floor balcony. As I discovered twenty minutes later when I went to her balcony, not only was she graciously offering her fantastic view of the Castle and the fireworks, she had set up a small table with a bottle of red and a delicious dish of stewed tomatoes, calamari, onions, and potatoes. Just delicious despite her insistent protestations that she isn’t a very good cook.
The fireworks lasted over 45 minutes and were brilliant. Endoh-san said it was to celebrate the first night of Hinokuni Matsuri, which translates to the Land of Fire Festival, the Kumamoto local festival held every August. ‘Land of Fire’ is a poetic phrase used to describe Kumamoto since the city is located in a valley just below Mount Aso, the largest active volcano in Japan. That’s comforting and yet not mentioned in the ‘Gaijin Guide to Living in Kumamoto.’ Curious. Continuing the celebrations, I’ve heard tell of dancing in the streets planned for tomorrow. We’ll see just how wild and crazy these Japanese can get.
When I returned home, I had just enough time to take another quick shower to wash off the summer humidity before the Beijing Olympic Opening Ceremony began. I love the Olympics. I have since I was a small child and I seem to revert to that little girl whenever I watch the opening ceremony. In many ways I am incredibly cynical, and I’ll admit to my fair share of criticism of these Olympics in particular. But when the opening ceremonies began, I was glued to the television screen, entranced by the elaborate choreography and visuals. And inevitably, as the parade of nations commenced, I cried like a quiet little baby. On a universal level, it’s so uplifting and hopeful to see citizens from all over the world come together to compete and celebrate. On a more individual level, to see the joyous expressions of so many of the athletes faces, especially those coming from little-known countries, is so breathtakingly inspirational. That said….
One hour into the Parade of Nations – Wow. There are a lot of countries in the world.
Two and a half hours into the Parade of Nations – There are way too many countries in the world.
Three hours into the Parade of Nations – Will it ever end?
So, no Kyoto in this post. I’ll try again tomorrow.
- Jenny
The fireworks lasted over 45 minutes and were brilliant. Endoh-san said it was to celebrate the first night of Hinokuni Matsuri, which translates to the Land of Fire Festival, the Kumamoto local festival held every August. ‘Land of Fire’ is a poetic phrase used to describe Kumamoto since the city is located in a valley just below Mount Aso, the largest active volcano in Japan. That’s comforting and yet not mentioned in the ‘Gaijin Guide to Living in Kumamoto.’ Curious. Continuing the celebrations, I’ve heard tell of dancing in the streets planned for tomorrow. We’ll see just how wild and crazy these Japanese can get.
When I returned home, I had just enough time to take another quick shower to wash off the summer humidity before the Beijing Olympic Opening Ceremony began. I love the Olympics. I have since I was a small child and I seem to revert to that little girl whenever I watch the opening ceremony. In many ways I am incredibly cynical, and I’ll admit to my fair share of criticism of these Olympics in particular. But when the opening ceremonies began, I was glued to the television screen, entranced by the elaborate choreography and visuals. And inevitably, as the parade of nations commenced, I cried like a quiet little baby. On a universal level, it’s so uplifting and hopeful to see citizens from all over the world come together to compete and celebrate. On a more individual level, to see the joyous expressions of so many of the athletes faces, especially those coming from little-known countries, is so breathtakingly inspirational. That said….
One hour into the Parade of Nations – Wow. There are a lot of countries in the world.
Two and a half hours into the Parade of Nations – There are way too many countries in the world.
Three hours into the Parade of Nations – Will it ever end?
So, no Kyoto in this post. I’ll try again tomorrow.
- Jenny
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
More Confessions of a Solo Tourist
I started my last blog by claiming not to be very skilled at traveling by myself. I stated I couldn’t find the balance between planning and spontaneity. Then I gave no evidence to back my claim. Bad form.
Well, here it is. I had found a few English tours of Kyoto and nearby Nara online and planned to sign up for them; at least for the bus tour of Nara, which was the Japanese Imperial capital before Kyoto during the 8th century and is home to many temples and shrines, including a very famous, huge bronze Buddha statue. I checked the tours several times in the weeks preceding my trip, but held off making the final reservations hoping that maybe I would meet some of my fellow travelers at the hostel that would be interested. Also to make the reservation, I had to sign up for pick-up at one of the specified hotels in Kyoto and I thought to wait until I got there and could find the nearest pick-up spot. There didn’t seem to be any urgency, though. It looked like I could sign up for a tour the day prior and there wouldn’t be any problems. I was wrong.
My first night in Kyoto, I got on the internet to sign up for the Nara tour only to discover that all of the tours had been booked for the next week or so, as well as all of the tours of Kyoto. Then, I found out that to tour any of the Imperial grounds: the castles, the gardens, and two villas at the edge of town, which I heard are quite something: I needed to make reservations for that too. So, I went online to sign up for that only to find out they were booked until the middle next week.
I confess, my first thought was, ‘I’m going home.’ It’s a childish response, I grant you. But, I’m admitting to it, so that’s adult, right? I didn’t go home, of course, but that was my first instinct. Instead, I decided to see what I could while I was there and plan to go back sometime before I leave Japan and do all of those things.
Anyway, the next morning, I hopped out of bed at 7 o’clock bright-eyed and ready to explore. I kid. I woke up about 9 o’clock, slathered sunblock all over my arms and face (missing my ears as I discovered later in the day), gathered my bus map and headed out with a very vague plan to see the city.
Now, I used to absolutely hate looking like a tourist, and fumbling around with a street map has always seemed to be one of the biggest flashing signs that say TOURIST. If I had no other choice, I would try to very inconspicuously look at the map before hiding it away. To be honest, I still despise looking like a tourist, but I quickly came to acknowledge the impossibility of looking like anything but an outsider in Japan, so I eventually gave in and had my bus map out almost constantly. Almost all of Kyoto is easily accessible by bus and the map I had was actually very easy to use. The bus system is so extensive, however, it can take some time to navigate, especially in the beginning. After about 10 minutes of wandering, I found the bus stop only about half a block from the hostel.
I grabbed the first bus and off I went.
- Jenny
Well, here it is. I had found a few English tours of Kyoto and nearby Nara online and planned to sign up for them; at least for the bus tour of Nara, which was the Japanese Imperial capital before Kyoto during the 8th century and is home to many temples and shrines, including a very famous, huge bronze Buddha statue. I checked the tours several times in the weeks preceding my trip, but held off making the final reservations hoping that maybe I would meet some of my fellow travelers at the hostel that would be interested. Also to make the reservation, I had to sign up for pick-up at one of the specified hotels in Kyoto and I thought to wait until I got there and could find the nearest pick-up spot. There didn’t seem to be any urgency, though. It looked like I could sign up for a tour the day prior and there wouldn’t be any problems. I was wrong.
My first night in Kyoto, I got on the internet to sign up for the Nara tour only to discover that all of the tours had been booked for the next week or so, as well as all of the tours of Kyoto. Then, I found out that to tour any of the Imperial grounds: the castles, the gardens, and two villas at the edge of town, which I heard are quite something: I needed to make reservations for that too. So, I went online to sign up for that only to find out they were booked until the middle next week.
I confess, my first thought was, ‘I’m going home.’ It’s a childish response, I grant you. But, I’m admitting to it, so that’s adult, right? I didn’t go home, of course, but that was my first instinct. Instead, I decided to see what I could while I was there and plan to go back sometime before I leave Japan and do all of those things.
Anyway, the next morning, I hopped out of bed at 7 o’clock bright-eyed and ready to explore. I kid. I woke up about 9 o’clock, slathered sunblock all over my arms and face (missing my ears as I discovered later in the day), gathered my bus map and headed out with a very vague plan to see the city.
Now, I used to absolutely hate looking like a tourist, and fumbling around with a street map has always seemed to be one of the biggest flashing signs that say TOURIST. If I had no other choice, I would try to very inconspicuously look at the map before hiding it away. To be honest, I still despise looking like a tourist, but I quickly came to acknowledge the impossibility of looking like anything but an outsider in Japan, so I eventually gave in and had my bus map out almost constantly. Almost all of Kyoto is easily accessible by bus and the map I had was actually very easy to use. The bus system is so extensive, however, it can take some time to navigate, especially in the beginning. After about 10 minutes of wandering, I found the bus stop only about half a block from the hostel.
I grabbed the first bus and off I went.
- Jenny
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Confessions of a Solo Tourist
I have a confession to make. I’m not very good at traveling by myself. I pretend. I ‘front’ as my homies in the hood would say; but in reality, it’s really not something that I’m very comfortable at doing. I’ve yet to find that balance between planning ahead and being spontaneous. In fact, I often feel like I come up on the wrong side of the argument between the two. Despite this somewhat ominous preface, however, my trip to Kyoto this past week was a great deal of fun.
I left home early Tuesday morning with a couple changes of clothes and my toothbrush and hopped a bus, then streetcar to Kumamoto Station where I started my journey to the old capital of Japan, Kyoto. And when I say ‘old’, I mean ancient. Kyoto was founded in the 8th century, designed specifically to be the seat of the Japanese imperial court. It remained the capital of Japan until the 19th century when it was moved to Tokyo. In fact, there is some – a very little – dispute that the move of the capital from Kyoto to Tokyo was ever officially documented, making Kyoto the official capital of Japan still. Since the Emperor and the Diet reside in Tokyo, however, lack of official documentation seems to me to be a futile argument.
But back to me. I had been very anxious about buying my tickets, practicing my Japanese constantly, and I am proud to say that I delivered my lines well and was even able to understand and answer the one question put to me in Japanese. I had no problems at all. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for the poor girl I was buying the tickets from. She went through the transaction twice before having to void them both at the very end before finally getting it right on the third try. We got through it, though, and I caught the 9:30 train to Harata / Fukuoka where I got the Shinkansen (bullet train) to Kyoto.
To me, the term ‘bullet train’ has always called to mind the image of fields and seas whizzing by too fast to see any definition. It’s a completely unrealistic image, of course. While it does travel extraordinarily fast – almost 200 miles an hour - I could still see individuals working in the fields and waves in the sea. That is, of course, when we weren’t traveling through tunnels, which was about 70% of the time.
Kyoto is located in the central part of Honshu, the main and largest island of Japan. My train there passed through the well-known cities of Osaka, Kobe, and Hiroshima and was bound for Tokyo, which would only have been another couple hours past Kyoto.
I arrived in Kyoto at 2 pm, though it was another hour before I got to the hostel because of a misunderstanding which left me riding the bus for quite a while. I finally found the hostel, however, and checked in. And by this point, I was starving. I hadn’t had anything since some toast and jam earlier in the morning, so I dropped off my bags and walked into the very near Gion district to find a place to eat.
To anyone who has seen Memoirs of a Geisha, Gion would look very familiar to you. Or it would, if the film hadn’t used a set in L.A. to stand-in for Japan’s most famous geisha district where much of the story takes place. Though the numbers of geisha have declined considerably, you can still see women in full geisha regalia walking down the street in the evening. I will admit, however, that while I saw many women in the traditional clothing and elaborate hairstyles of a geisha, I never saw one with the makeup and all.
Today the Gion district is a great place to see some of the original style buildings and architecture. Tea houses dot the streets where business men can go and be served tea and cocktails and entertained by traditional geisha singing and dancing. As I am not a business man and I don’t have a lot of money - to gain entrance to one of these exclusive houses is very expensive - this was one Kyoto attraction I had to miss.
After enjoying a wonderful dinner of Okayodon (chicken and egg cooked over rice) in a small traditional Japanese restaurant in Gion, I walked to the nearby Yasaka Shrine. Yasaka Shrine was originally built in 656 AD and is the site of arguably the most famous festival in Japan, Gion Matsuri, which takes place the entire month of July and which I just missed. It is a beautiful shrine, however, with even more beautiful gardens and I enjoyed it tremendously.
After wandering around for a while, taking tons of pictures, I walked back through a long street of shops in Gion to my hostel. For the first, but not the last time of my trip, it had started to rain and I got back to the hostel just as the downpour began in earnest.
With the rain coming down hard on the streets and the fact that I was a little tired from traveling all day, I settled in for the night. I was staying in a dorm style room with eight beds. The first night grouped me with: a young, Irish couple that were spending the summer in Beijing on a school trip and were traveling in Japan for a week, a couple of French girls that if spoke English, certainly weren’t going to speak to anyone other than the other, a guy from New York interning at an engineering firm in Tokyo over the summer, and guy from St. Joe, Missouri studying Japanese at an international language school in Kyoto for a few months. I was very relieved to hear that he was going to school at Missouri State University and held Missouri in as much contempt as I do.
We got to know each other a little and I quizzed the Robert, guy from Missouri, about what I should see and do in Kyoto since he’d been there for over a month. I got a lot of good advice from the others regarding the bus system and how to read the bus map, which would be a vast help in the coming days. I read for a while and made plans for the next day and finally hit the sheets around midnight.
And so ends my first half-day of my Kyoto adventure. Stay tuned for the rest of my escapades coming soon (hopefully).
- Jenny
I left home early Tuesday morning with a couple changes of clothes and my toothbrush and hopped a bus, then streetcar to Kumamoto Station where I started my journey to the old capital of Japan, Kyoto. And when I say ‘old’, I mean ancient. Kyoto was founded in the 8th century, designed specifically to be the seat of the Japanese imperial court. It remained the capital of Japan until the 19th century when it was moved to Tokyo. In fact, there is some – a very little – dispute that the move of the capital from Kyoto to Tokyo was ever officially documented, making Kyoto the official capital of Japan still. Since the Emperor and the Diet reside in Tokyo, however, lack of official documentation seems to me to be a futile argument.
But back to me. I had been very anxious about buying my tickets, practicing my Japanese constantly, and I am proud to say that I delivered my lines well and was even able to understand and answer the one question put to me in Japanese. I had no problems at all. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for the poor girl I was buying the tickets from. She went through the transaction twice before having to void them both at the very end before finally getting it right on the third try. We got through it, though, and I caught the 9:30 train to Harata / Fukuoka where I got the Shinkansen (bullet train) to Kyoto.
To me, the term ‘bullet train’ has always called to mind the image of fields and seas whizzing by too fast to see any definition. It’s a completely unrealistic image, of course. While it does travel extraordinarily fast – almost 200 miles an hour - I could still see individuals working in the fields and waves in the sea. That is, of course, when we weren’t traveling through tunnels, which was about 70% of the time.
Kyoto is located in the central part of Honshu, the main and largest island of Japan. My train there passed through the well-known cities of Osaka, Kobe, and Hiroshima and was bound for Tokyo, which would only have been another couple hours past Kyoto.
I arrived in Kyoto at 2 pm, though it was another hour before I got to the hostel because of a misunderstanding which left me riding the bus for quite a while. I finally found the hostel, however, and checked in. And by this point, I was starving. I hadn’t had anything since some toast and jam earlier in the morning, so I dropped off my bags and walked into the very near Gion district to find a place to eat.
To anyone who has seen Memoirs of a Geisha, Gion would look very familiar to you. Or it would, if the film hadn’t used a set in L.A. to stand-in for Japan’s most famous geisha district where much of the story takes place. Though the numbers of geisha have declined considerably, you can still see women in full geisha regalia walking down the street in the evening. I will admit, however, that while I saw many women in the traditional clothing and elaborate hairstyles of a geisha, I never saw one with the makeup and all.
Today the Gion district is a great place to see some of the original style buildings and architecture. Tea houses dot the streets where business men can go and be served tea and cocktails and entertained by traditional geisha singing and dancing. As I am not a business man and I don’t have a lot of money - to gain entrance to one of these exclusive houses is very expensive - this was one Kyoto attraction I had to miss.
After enjoying a wonderful dinner of Okayodon (chicken and egg cooked over rice) in a small traditional Japanese restaurant in Gion, I walked to the nearby Yasaka Shrine. Yasaka Shrine was originally built in 656 AD and is the site of arguably the most famous festival in Japan, Gion Matsuri, which takes place the entire month of July and which I just missed. It is a beautiful shrine, however, with even more beautiful gardens and I enjoyed it tremendously.
After wandering around for a while, taking tons of pictures, I walked back through a long street of shops in Gion to my hostel. For the first, but not the last time of my trip, it had started to rain and I got back to the hostel just as the downpour began in earnest.
With the rain coming down hard on the streets and the fact that I was a little tired from traveling all day, I settled in for the night. I was staying in a dorm style room with eight beds. The first night grouped me with: a young, Irish couple that were spending the summer in Beijing on a school trip and were traveling in Japan for a week, a couple of French girls that if spoke English, certainly weren’t going to speak to anyone other than the other, a guy from New York interning at an engineering firm in Tokyo over the summer, and guy from St. Joe, Missouri studying Japanese at an international language school in Kyoto for a few months. I was very relieved to hear that he was going to school at Missouri State University and held Missouri in as much contempt as I do.
We got to know each other a little and I quizzed the Robert, guy from Missouri, about what I should see and do in Kyoto since he’d been there for over a month. I got a lot of good advice from the others regarding the bus system and how to read the bus map, which would be a vast help in the coming days. I read for a while and made plans for the next day and finally hit the sheets around midnight.
And so ends my first half-day of my Kyoto adventure. Stay tuned for the rest of my escapades coming soon (hopefully).
- Jenny
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