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