Amid various emails and Memos to clients and necessary phone calls to make and receive I find myself thinking wistfully this morning, about Kyoto and looking ever-so-forward to soon being there again, to just Be there…  I write this (as an update to this post) in mid-November 2009.  I returned from a business trip to Japan (which took me to Kyoto for a few days) less than a week ago.  I’m still jet-lagging somewhat.  In many ways it was like going home.

Closing Time at Chion-in Temple. Kyoto. 2003..

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Fushimi Inari, just south of Kyoto. 2003.

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Noh play. Heian Jingu (shrine). June 2003.

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Wall at Shinyodo Temple. Nov 2009.

The photo of Noh actor above, mid-performance at Heian Shrine, is from June 2003.   There is only one evening a year, in June, that Noh is performed at Heian Jingu, and I happened to be in Kyoto on that evening.  Only time I’ve seen this.

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Lanterns at Okazaki Shrine. Kyoto. 2007.

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A side street off of Shirakawa-dori. . . in a mirror. Kyoto. 2007.

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Neighbor Wars, or... it's not all Zen & Cherry Blossoms in Kyoto. Rough translation:　　”Dog poo left behind! Poo MUST be picked up and taken with you. If you can't do this, then don't bother walking (your dog) in the first place!" Angry face.

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Our disco-era Kyoto hotel redeemed itself when we found out they rent free bikes.  So our 24-hour visit was topped off by a delightful morning ride through the hills of the Higashiyama district.  It’s the section with the largest concentration of temples and shrines, with narrow streets lined by old shops and small wooden houses.  Our first discovery was a flea market at the Hokoku shrine, selling everything from tiny buddhas and kimonos to old junky electronics. Some of the oddities spotted there:

The juxtaposition of the bric-a-brac against this majestic shrine was a curious one.  Even stranger to see people squeezing through the clutter for the ritual hand washing and prayer.

We continued up and down the winding roads, passing Kyoto Women’s University, clusters of old and new houses, and a beautiful cemetery tucked away at the top of a hill.  (More photos up on Flickr.) Heading back to the train station (and relieved to be finally going downhill), we spotted this tiny coffee shop run by an old couple.  I think we were the only people there under 70.  The coffee was delicious.  Unfortunately our Japanese hasn’t gotten good enough to ask how the place got its name.

After they pampered us with their kind service, it was back on the bullet train to Tokyo.  A perfect little side trip to gear us up for week #2 in the big city.

- Leital Molad

When I first heard about the cancellation of the route, and then the impending layoff of 600 flight attendants, I felt sick to my stomach but I made a decision to just enjoy my last few trips as much as possible and to let the future take care of itself- it was out of my control. As I have said in past blogs, I believe that everything happens for a reason. One door shuts another door opens. Unfortunately, most of us are so busy still pounding on the door that shut behind us, we don’t notice the new one that opened.

One of the Yamas- or restraints- of yogic philosophy is aparigraha- non-clinging or non-possessiveness. It has been interpreted to mean an absence of greed, an abstinence from materialism among other things. I have thought of it as beyond just clinging to material things, but to things that naturally change in our lives. We become so set in our routines and what we think is our “right” that when anything upsets that, we become panicky and fearful. (I mean… I could start speaking on the current economic situations in the world and you would have a ten page diatribe on how we got there because we cannot practice aparigraha but I will leave that to the yogic economists out there…)   I chose instead to embrace the present and look for the new door when this one closed.

What an amazing last few trips it was! I think I gained 10 pounds from all the food I ate. I visited all my favorite establishments that I had come to know over the last twelve years and dined on gourmet noodles, sticky rice sweets, excellent sake and of course my wonderful coffee. I took small gifts of chocolates and cookies to all the shop keepers who called me a “regular”. The Japanese are serious about how they define their customers- being called a regular was an honour usually reserved for local Japanese- not for a foreignor that popped in once or twice a month. Many of them gave me little gifts back- a bottle of homemade soy sauce, a little trinket for my bag. It was sad and wonderful all at the same time.

I was happy to be able to mix my yoga practice into the ritual of saying goodbye because as my door on Kansai closed, it was just opening for my friend Mark. Mark has relocated from San Francisco to Kyoto as the newest teacher at Studio Yoggy. Mark and I met back in June in Yokohama and fast became friends. His Japanese is progressing at an astounding rate and he is doing most of his class in Japanese. This is no small feat in Anusara where we mix philosphy into the physical practice.

Mark moved to Japan just before my last two flights so I decided to catch a couple of his classes during layover. The first layover Mark was teaching in Osaka. “Nice and close”, I thought. Well….            

Mark was teaching at a studio location that I had never been to but I received good directions ( I thought) from the hotel and headed out early to his class- withalittle pit stop for coffee along the way! When I reached the station near the studio I again asked for clarification on the directions and off I went walking…and walking…and walking…until I came upon the next train station. I started to panic just a little as I spun my map around and around to line it up with the streets around me. This was not looking good. I then headed back to the main intersection and started to walk again until I came upon a shop keeper opening up for the morning. I asked about the location I was trying to get to and he shook his head and pointed back to the station that I had originally come from…1/2  a mile away. I looked at my watch and realized I had just 12 minutes to make it to Mark’s class. My heart sunk. All this way just to be late- how frustrating. I started to walk and being jet lagged and a little emotional I started to tear up a little bit. I never get lost in Japan! Why today? I looked at my watch – 8 minutes to go. I decided that if I didn’t make it to class that I would find the studio eventually and that maybe Mark and I could have lunch at least. I started chanting “Om namah shivaya, om namah shivaya..” and slowed down my frantic mind and just thought, “Go withyourinstinct.” My instinct told me I was on the wrong side of the station originally so to walk back up the opposite side. Three minutes later the whole map appeared in solid form before me – landmarks and all- voila- the studio. I ran in with5 minutes to spare and quickly rattled off to the bemused desk clerk my being lost …and late… and so sorry …and is Mark here?.. and where is the change room?.. and where do I pay?…and she looked at me with downcast eyes. “Mark-sensei wa imasen..Mark is not here.” WHAT? Shoot. Did I screw up the times? Maybe he was sick or something. As my mind played with scenarios the clerk continued, “Mark sensei wa mayochatta…Mark is lost.”

Come on. Was this seriously happening? Both of us lost? I jokingly told her that if Mark didn’t show up I could teach. The next thing I knew they handed me the phone to talk to one of the managers , my friend Tomoko, and I was asked to teach if Mark didn’t show up in 10 minutes. Talk about a strange morning. Well ten minutes later I started my impromptu  yoga class, withno prep, and 30 minutes later a very flustered Mark came into the studio. The poor guy- in ten years of teaching he had never once been late- he was beside himself. All ended well. I was payed back for my class fee- given a free class for the next week in Kyoto and payed for teaching the class as well! Mark even bought me lunch and we had a good laugh over how the universe likes to mess with you just to keep you on your toes!

The last trip to Osaka was the best- the most satisfying in so many ways. I started out with a late arrival into Osaka and ran in full uniform to my favorite massage place. They had been wondering where I was ( I don’t make an appointment in case of flight delays) and had just enough time to book me for what I call heaven- an hour and a half aromatherapy oil massage. As you can see from the pictures they are tiny but man are they powerful- it’s like they hone in on all the painful tight places. Like I said heaven- in a sadistic kind of way.

I woke up early the next morning to hop the train to Kyoto. The sun was shining so bright and it was slightly cool- just enough to tell your senses that it was becoming fall. I arrived in Kyoto to start my morning walk up Higashiyama- the same place I spent time in last New Year. The weather was perfect and the sun was becoming warmer as I climbed through the meandering streets. I took in every colour, every texture, every scent as I weaved further up the mountain. I stopped in front of a door way just to admire the simplicity and the textures that were contained in no more than 4 feet. A stone road led to a cobbled brick shoulder to a wooden ramp to another stone step upon which sat a bonsai in blue and white ceramic . Two wooden half circles supported the bowl and in behind was a wrapping of straw and framing the whole vignette was a slatted wooden door. So simple, so natural and yet so rich. It completely entranced me.

Textures of a culture

I climbed higher and higher to finally come to my favorite temple, Kiyomizu. Like a grand wooden tree house it seems to float on the mountain side. I came into the main part of the temple to pray and noticed my dragon fountain was out of order but was curious as to what seemed to be a special event going on. I asked one of the Japanese volunteers what was going on and he explained that the image of the Kannonwhich is housed inside the Hondo or main hall-  was open to public viewing today. She would only be open until November then again in March and then they would close the doors on her sacred container to not be opened again for 25 years.  It was the most magnificent hall- lit very softly along the sides. There must have been 50 statues of different gods and demons that protect the Kannon and all around them were hundreds of candles. Similar to lighting candles in church , in Japan you also light candles for those you wish to help or protect. The candles had paper wrapped around the bottom and you could purchase one, write your blessing on the paper and then light it and place it all around the figures in the shrine. Unfortunately due to the age of the relics no pictures are allowed so you will just have to go there yourself! I would suggest this November or next March as 25 years is a bit of a wait….

I wandered back down the mountain to make my way to Mark’s yoga class in Kyoto. He was very punctual and had prepared a wonderful class. Tim, a mutual friend that I had also met in June, was also there so that was a treat. My only regret is that if I had continued that route I could have taken more classes from Mark- I learned so much from him in even that short time. Aki, another teacher who I met last year in Japan, was also there and we rocked out astavakrasana in front of the amazing studio wall. She laughed and agreed that the studio was quintessential Kyoto ” Kyoto-poi“. I felt so blessed to see old friends and have them, and my yoga, as part of my last day.

Tim, myself and Mark

I went home with my fantastic crew and I felt deeply satisfied with how I chose to say goodbye. In Japanese when you are completely full, nothing more can be added to the experience you say ” dai-manzoku“. It really couldn’t have been better and now I am looking for the next door. Bye bye Kansai!

We left Kyoto early and took the JR train to Himeji, the largest feudal castle in Japan.

Walking straight down the road from the station, you can see it above the city.

The fort the castle is in was built in the 1300s, but the castle itself was built in the 16th century. The masters of this castle were lesser rulers, not even shoguns or emperors. Regardless, they commanded an amazing view. Just in case anyone tried to attack, every wall in the castle was lined with weapons, and samurai had plenty of hiding places.

And just in case a master was killed, the samurai had a place to commit Harakiri or Seppuku (ritual suicide). Apparently, samurai would kneel on the rock in the center of the courtyard, and they’d be cleaned up over the well (the fenced in area to the right in the photo).

After Himeji we went back to Kyoto where we had plenty more to see. Our first stop was Nijo castle.

It was built in 1603 and was the Kyoto residence of the first Tokugawa Shogun, Ieyasu. One of the most interesting parts inside was the Nightingale flooring. Anywhere you stepped, the floor would squeak, and this would make it impossible for anyone to sneak around, especially intruders.

The outside wasn’t as grand as Himeji, but the inside was exactly what you’d image in a Japanese castle. Unfortunately, no pictures were allowed. Below is a photo of the inner moat.

From Nijo we took a bus north to Rokuon-ji Temple, better known as the Golden Pavilion. It’s a very popular tourist stop, and we’re sure you can see why. It was burned down once by an over zealous monk but was reconstructed to be better than the first.

This would be an incredibly peaceful place (you practically stroll through the woods while walking around it) if it weren’t for all the tourist buses. We still stopped with everyone else along the path to throw spare change at a bowl for luck. (We missed).

After the Golden Pavilion it was back to Gion where lots of folks were enjoying dinner by the river.

We walked down the street to the Gion-Higashiyama intersection to take in the shrines and gates lit up at night.

And from the other side, looking at the main road.

We ended our night watching locals throw change into the shrine’s box, ring the bell, clap twice and say a prayer for a good night.

Himeji & Kyoto Gallery

Our first day in Kyoto started out beautifully. We walked up Higashiyama in the hot, hot sun and were amazed at the way the city blends the old and new. Along the road we saw a foot bridge leading to a temple.

There was a ceremony going on, so we didn’t stay long. Instead we wandered up a narrow road where we found a cemetery.

It was beautiful and extended up and down a hill, and almost every grave stone had a small green incense jar. Down the road, we caught some monks trying to cross the street.

From there we continued down Higashiyama and found a five-tiered pagoda up another alley.

The alley led up to a cobblestone street where we saw, among other things, a rickshaw.

And we found our way to Kiyomizu-dera (a temple up on the mountainside).

We went into Tainai-meguri, a pretty strange experience. Apparently, walking down the stairs into the pitch blackness and following the rope through a hallway represents entrance into the womb of Daizuigu Bosatsu, a Bodhisattva who can grant wishes. We reached a small patch of light above a stone, which we spun around and made wishes before ascending the stairs.

We made our way to the main hall that has a veranda that sits a long way above the hillside. While we were up there, a thunderstorm rolled in over Kyoto, and the view couldn’t have been better.

When the rain subsided, we started the walk down and found a shinto monk still waiting in the drizzle.

We were soaked and waited the rest of the afternoon out in Gion. That night, we walked around this Geisha district, starting on Hanami-koji, where taxis lined the street waiting for businessmen leaving the restaurants and teahouses, and a hostess waited outside her establishment.

We walked around to the Shinbashi district, a really peaceful area around more teahouses.

We found the Tatsumi shrine, which is supposed to bring luck to entertainers, in the fork in the road.

We then walked toward Pontocho, an upscale club/restaurant area and toward Kiyamachi-dori, a less expensive place to hang out. We stopped to take a picture of the statue of the first geisha.

And that’s when we spotted a real one.

Kyoto Gallery

(still 29 June 2008)

I still walked for another hour, I think, the thoughts were quite blurry when I walked out of the park (Maruyama-koen), and found traditional houses, ochaya (tea houses), and several little shops. Unlike Tokyo where houses and building were all westernized/modernized, this neigborhood of Higashiyama still maintained its roots.
Here and there I found statue of tanuki in front of houses (I wonder what message would this creature bring to welcome the guests?)

Another temple in the rain

I walked again in the hilly areas with narrow roads, almost no cars, and less people on sidewalks. As I did several times, I asked again with one lady who seemed to be friendly, which way I should go if I wanted to go to Heian-jingu (already started to think, did it really worth to go to Heian-jingu? with wet clothes and backpacks and souvenirs that began to weigh like 100 kilograms?)

They kept telling me to look for the big torii (shrine), which I would obviously see right away (and how did I get the power to translate that far? This time I do think God works in mysterious ways). But still no red torii for me to see.

there it was!!

I got out of the hilly traditional neighborhood and appeared on the urban and more modern neighborhood, with traffic lights on road intersections and all. And there in the faraway I saw a tiny (but huge, in real) red torii. Oh yay!!

So I walked towards the torii. Along the way, some more shops stalled my way. The one that I stopped quite for some time carried a classy collections of sport shoes decorated with sakura patterns. Some tshirts with original designs, canvas bags, printed with the head of a girl with flowers from 3D kimono scraps, and so many cute dolls, hair berrets in floral patterns, and many many souvenirs. I tought I’m gonna buy the whole store! (again, couldn’t get a hold of myself… he he)

The girl that attended the store was really cheerful and friendly. When I forgot my umbrella in the store (which forced me to go back, when it suddenly pouring again when I almost reached the torii), then I asked her if she would want to keep my heavy backpack and souvenir there while I went to Heian-jingu and the museum of modern art (conveniently on the way). She agreed, and would keep all my things in the staff room, asking me how long I’d be. I said one hour (-ish).

I wonder why I was so trusting with her, but the way she attended me and the other customers of the shop somehow told me she was a good person (and in Japan, people don’t steal, well at least AFAIK). So I let her keep my backpack containing my brand new USD 2,000 laptop and others. Whatever.. the backpack almost caused me permanent neck pain.

the giant torii

across museum of modern art

on bridge towards shrine

on bridge

I walked, a lot lighter with only my sling bag containing camera, wallet, passport and a bottle of water. I took the time of having lunch while waiting for the rain to quiet down before, when I forgot to bring my umbrella in the store. And now I am happily skipping to the National Museum of Modern Art.

the torii still looks huge

view from 2nd floor museum

Could be my lucky day (still think that after the rainy walks in Maruyama-koen ) , there was a Renoir special exhibition with collection from Le Musée d’Orsay, Paris, France. Wuoh… I went to the ticket booth and bought both regular collection and the special exhibition. 

Pierre-Auguste Renoir (February 25, 1841–December 3, 1919) was a French artist who was a leading painter in the development of the Impressionist style. As a celebrator of beauty, and especially feminine sensuality, it has been said that “Renoir is the final representative of a tradition which runs directly from Rubens to Watteau”.

From Wikipedia Renoir

There were quite a line to this exhibition. I guess rain don’t stop the art spectators of Kyoto from attending this special exhibition. I don’t know that much about Renoir, only that he is an impressionist artist, in the same era as Monet. But I recognize some of the works, from walking through the halls where the paintings were hanging. 

The exhibition was in 4th floor, and we directed to the elevator. In the entrance of the exhibition hall, they provide audio cassette with narration of the artworks displayed. Too bad no English. Moreover, then I am stuck with French titles and kanji translation, so might as well just enjoy it

The Japanese people were very orderly. I never see anyone cut any line since the first time I’m arrived. And now, in the packed hall of museum, noone produced any noises, and no pushing or cutting into each other’s line like we often experience in one particular country in south-east Asia (that I dearly miss right now).

The exhibition includes several famous works :

Dance at Le Moulin de la Galette (Le Bal au Moulin de la Galette), 1876, Pierre-Auguste Renoir and 

The Swing (La Balançoire), 1876, oil on canvas 

From Wikipedia

After finishing Renoir, and caught in a moment without canceling the thought of buying a Renoir book in Japanese, I took the stairs to the second floor of the regular collection. Seeing one Picasso (forgot the title), and some of the famous works, Japanese artist’s work like the room-separation painted in a pool of koi fish (sorry no photography permitted).

There were also some 3D works like pottery and really awesome kimono (an emperor’s ? he he). Somehow I felt uneasy of leaving my backpack with a stranger, then I cut the visit short, and head to the first floor where they have all the souvenirs of the museum. Bought several postcards of Renoir as a memento that I was here, and some mini-clear folders to keep the bills and receipts tidy.

Then I go on towards Heian Jingu, the destination that so hard to reach (seems like). I’ll give you some pictures of the Shinto temple :

the gate to the temple

the temple

in the rain

liat miko nya inget Kikyou di Inuyasha!

Another walk towards the red Torii and then went to the shop. My bag was safely sound, and the girl greeted me, making me felt slightly guilty for having bad thoughts about her. I asked her for the last time (since it’s difficult to find a person who can speak english), how to catch a bus to Kyoto-eki. And she told me, it was just right across the street. 

I waited for a while, not long the bus came (no getting lost this time – I’m too tired anyway), and then got there (I don’t know how I managed with the already full backpack – some of the souvenirs I moved there to avoid the rain) and still one plastic bag of another group of souvenirs.

After reaching Kyoto station, I had to take the subway to the station nearby the hotel, which is Marutamachi-bashi. Now, the challenge is how to get to the right subway platform. In the basement there was a department store, and everywhere I turned there were only shops, and no signs to subway. Hopeless, and the backpack is killing my neck once again, asking around, finally I got to the subway. Phew…

My friend already text-messaged me since I was still at Heian-jingu, so that meant that I was expected. I got into the subway, got off at Marutamachi-bashi, but wrong exit. (hehe, not remembering the experience of Takebashi…. duhhh) and then ask a really old lady where is the Gosho (imperial palace),  because I just know the hotel is right across the imperial palace park. She pointed out the place. 

I got a bit disoriented, and then found the kaban that I went to first thing in the morning before getting to the bus stop. Ah there must be the hotel. 

Finally I arrived at the hotel, dashed to the toilet to freshen up (if there is any difference that can be made, my clothes was dry, rained on, and dry again), claimed my luggage, and dragged the luggage to front porch of the hotel.

There I finished one carton of Glico strawberry milk (starving), and one onigiri. Then rearrange the souvenirs into my backpack and one travelling back and one huge plastic bag. Then I wonder still now, how I managed with all these stuff to Marutomachi-bashi subway station and then back to Kyoto-eki. 

I had a plan. I will drop the things at Kyoto-eki, in coin locker, and then I will go to Nara only with necessary stuff. Seemed that what I left behind at Tokyo still not enough, or I guess it was just my shopping mood that resulted into many additional baggage. But finally I got a coin locker, put 400 yen there and put most of my things there in one huge plastic bag.

Ah. Life is suddenly good again. Well, prolly not just yet! Gotta catch the train to Takanohara (station in Nara where my friend will pick me up). Uh oh. Gotta run.

29 June 2008

Good morning, Kyoto!

Weather isn’t the perfect for my tight schedule of visiting Gion, make walking tour through the Higashiyama trail as recommended by LP and then catch the train to Nara as promised as my hotel was booked at NAIST for tonight.

So I packed up all my things (which constantly grow into bigger pile in a much fatter travelling bag). I checked out and left my luggages in the front desk, which gave me a token to get it back. The receptionist guy was very helpful and offer about a one-day ticket for Kyoto bus (subway doesn’t cover as much as Tokyo), and I bought it since it’s only 500 yen. I only had yesterday’s experience riding the bus to Kinkaku-ji with my friend, it took sometime before really adjusting).

hotel that claims to be next to the Imperial Palace (Gosho)

church on the same block as hotel

Imperial Palace Park gate

From there I walk to the nearest bus station, conveniently passing a kaban (police station), and then I waited for sometime, first kinda forgot which number of the bus I should take (take notes!) then after the bus passed, I quickly remembered, it was that bus ! Heh.  Another wait then I took another bus and then it was wrong, so I dropped out on the next stop, and run back to the first bus stop because the right bus was appearing. Aduh, imagine the hectic plus it was raining (small, but still, an umbrella can add up into the chaos).

I got a seat next to an elderly lady, who, of course, can’t speak English. But having been in Japan for several days now, I now understand it’s better ask or you’d be left deserted in some unknown territory. So I asked her. She blurted out some explanations, and when my stop was nearing, i assumed she told me ask to the kaban for the maiko place (Yumekoubou), and pat me in the hand (blurted out some fast Japanese) and hurry me to the bus door. Arigatou obaasan!

Thanks to the lady, I arrived in Gion district.

Gion (祇園) is a district of Kyoto, Japan, originally developed in the Middle Ages, in front of Yasaka Shrine. The district was built to accommodate the needs of travelers and visitors to the shrine. It eventually evolved to become one of the most exclusive and well-known geisha districts in all of Japan.

The geisha in the Gion district do not refer to themselves as geisha; instead, Gion geisha use the local term geiko. While the term geisha means “artist”, the more direct term geiko means specifically “a woman of art.”

a shrine I passed on Shijō-dori

For sure I dropped of in the kaban (asking directions have never been an issue with me, I’d rather talk to some strangers than die not knowing where I am). The good thing about the policemen here are, they are very polite, they are nice even to strangers (i.e. don’t run away) and they speak OK English (at least the young officers do). 

So I got to the maiko makeover safely. It was in the 4th floor of an business building. I saw some shop selling traditional food (swear don’t know what they are!) on the way. But then I went to get in because my appointment time is almost on. The makeover place was rather small, with one studio, one waiting room, one rather big preparation room, where there are lockers to put your clothes when you are stripped into an undergarment for kimono, and three sets of make up chairs equipped with mirrors, and a wardrobe full of colorful kimonos.

So I got into the white undergarment and wear the tabi sock (sock with thumb separated from the rest of the toes he he) and sit on the chair. The amazing thing is, none of this people speak good English, so it’s crazy. I guess the make up artist memorize some of the lines like “This is  foundation”, “Now lipstick..” and some similar steps needed to be done to the customer. But, other than that, zip. However she is very nice and I was sort of on the state of “I’m gonna do it whatever it takes”.

Metamorphose 

                                                          HENSHIN !!!

pose pasrah menanti tamu

smile of a geiko

The whole process of making over took about 1 hour, and the photography session is probably 20 minutes. Then, the whole make up was torn down in about 10 mins. He he. And all of the sudden I was 10,000 yen poorer.

Can’t say that I’m totally satisfied with the whole thing ( especially because they canceled the photograph session outside in the streets of Gion because of the constant rain). I guess I just have to come back (why do I keep saying this ?)

After that, my journey was a bit at ease. The rain still went on, but I got my 1,000 yen umbrella (from Fujisawa), and I got my shopping mood on. Kyoto turned out to be a lot more artsy craftsy than Tokyo (or was I looking in all the wrong places?), but true, I got most of my souvenirs from yesterday’s trip to Kinkaku-ji. Last night I got some counting of the souvenirs that we have to bring (in Indonesia we have the tradition to bring back something from the place that you visit). So I was visit the little shops along the street of Shijō-dori, had a lot of fun, and bought some souvenirs.

They aren’t that expensive (I managed to stop converting from Yen to Rupiah to save myself from heart attack), and they are all so full of arts… traditional sakura, rabbits, or dragon flies print fabrics was made into purses, lady wallets, cellphone straps and scarf. I almost bought everything.

There was one really lovely store called Chiri-men, highly recommended. The prices weren’t all that cheap (even in Japanese standard), but they have i-will-kill-to-have cute earrings made of kimono fabrics, and hina dolls, and i-wonder-why-there-are-people-who-are-dilligent-enough-to-make tiny fabric vegetables and mini woven basket, and sushi and tiny sized bento for the sushi. I almost fainted! 

Managed to buy only 4 vegetables (they’re to kawaii not to have), several pairs of earrings for my family and myself (spent so much today!). And run away…

Heavenly Macha Ice Cream

Still on the same Shijō-dori, there was a store that sold everything green tea. Hubby is a big fan of greentea, in fact the only thing he wanted from my trip as oleh-oleh was only this. So I went there, there were so many kinds of tea to pick from (but no english speaking waiter to help me), so i picked one can of green tea and one sakura tea (because it sounds so sweet), and two packs of green-tea astor-like biscuits which there were testers, so I could taste it (and it tasted great..)

Before I went out the shop, couldn’t help not to pick one cone of this smooth macha ice cream with green-tea biscuit. Taste was not sweet, it was really authentic green tea (yeah as if i know), unlike the macha milkshake I used to have in Japaneser resto back in Bandung.

After that I went to a couple of shop that sells maiko and geisha accessories, wow really expensive. The hair accessories like pin on the hair can cost aout 15,000 yen. OMG! Then I bought a bag of kimono scraps for my craft project (if I ever got a chance), a summer fan decorated in red flowers, and a tabi (not knowing that for the yukata that I bought at Kinkaku-ji, we don’t need to wear socks).

I also went to a kimono shop, that the owner was really nice, and she helped picked out one male yukata (on sale), for hubby, navy color with minimalist pattern. 1,500 yen from 3,500 yen was quite a bargain! So I got it, and she showed me how to tie an obi.

The red gate to Maruyama Koen

From there, while rain is still pouring, I got myself a lunch at Lawson, a very familiar combini (convenience store), and ran in the rain towards the red gate. The lady in the photo shop right across this gate said that to go to Heian Jingu (my next destination), I would have to go through Maruyama-koen (park). Since I was reading this walking trail of Southern Higashiyama, I chose to walk (though I remembered in vain when the rain became really hard, that the lady actually asked if I would want to take the bus or walk).

Anyway, I am most proud of my physical strength that day, carrying my backpack, my little sling purse, and a huge bag filled with souvenir, a result of a little uncontrollable shopping earlier.

Because it was raining, and my hands were full with things, it’s very difficult to snap a decent photo. Some of the photos I took either not including me, show a silvery blurry image of rain, or shaky.

anyone could translate this?

Maruyama-koen duck, at least one of us is enjoying the rain!

Yasaka-jinja

I still walked and walked… would I ever find Heian-jingu?? The souvenir bag was already dangerously soaked wet, and so were the gray pants that I was wearing … (to be continued)

On an up note, I wanted to post about this. I won’t be able to go, unfortunately. But anyone who is interested in Higashiyama’s work and happens to be in Tokyo should definitely check it out.

Paul had found a good walk around the Higashiyama area of Kyoto recommended in our Lonely Planet guidebook.  The route started at Kiyomizudera, a temple (temples are Buddhist, shrines are Shinto) first built in 798 and then reconstructed in 1633.  Behind a towering pagoda framed by cherry blossom trees, looking every bit the cliché image of Japan, the main temple’s massive wooden pillars were about six stories high, supporting its massive expanse as it nestled against a steep hillside.

We made several offerings at the temple, bought omamori, offered incense and wrote on a votive plaque which we left hanging at the temple.  We chose a design of two white mice pushing a boat along to somewhere or other (Adelaide, perhaps?) laden with  a magical lucky hammer.  Quite appropriate, we felt.

We clambered up some steps to Jishu Jinja on the temple grounds, illustrating the comfort with which the ancient, pantheistic Shinto religion sits alongisde Buddhism.  Most people in Japan practice both, though families are usually one over the other – my mother’s family is Soto Zen Buddhist. but has shinto altars in its shop to ask for good fortune for its business.  Jishu Jinja at Kiyomizudera is a Shinto shrine dedicated to the god of successful relationships.  We went up and gave incense, paid our respects and asked for strength and longevity in ours.  Two sacred stones stood 18 metres apart on the grounds of the shrine.  For those not in a relationship, it’s said that if you can walk from one stone to the other without opening your eyes, your desire for love will be fulfilled.

The sun was out.  At risk of repeating myself, the cherry blossom was just breathtakingly beautiful, and it was absolutely everywhere.  We were out with throngs of other visitors all enjoying the sight of this awe-inspiring temple surrounded by clouds of pale pink blossom – this had to be the peak cherry blossom viewing weekend for Kyoto.

Along with large numbers of hayfever and cold-suffering Japanese, I decided to wear a mask.  This did the double duty of allowing guilt-free coughing and hacking without the burden of responsibility for spreading my germs everywhere, and for keeping my throat moist and preventing dust from entering and causing coughing fits – especially at dusty Fawlty Towers.

I’d had a rough night, having coughed myself (and sometimes Paul) awake every hour – so we gave ourselves a matcha (green tea) pick-me-up.  A bowl of frothy bitter tea made with powdered leaves, accompanied with an ohagi – a pounded rice cake coated in red bean paste – gave us the energy boost we needed and we continued on.

We left the temple and walked down some narrow, quaint streets lined with old fashioned tea houses, food shops and old wooden houses; one, Ishibei-koji, is said to be one of the most beautiful streets in Kyoto, cobbled and lined with historic houses and restaurants.  We passed through Maruyama-koen, where everyone and her cat were out enjoying the blossom with their obento picnics and sake.  In the centre of the park we admired the most famous cherry tree in all of Kyoto, the shidarezakura.  Its gnarled, thick, twisted trunk made it look at least 100 years old.

The park was dotted with busy yatai – food stalls – one of which was selling fresh charcoal roasted bamboo shoots on a stick (the great Kyoto spring delicacy, as you’ll have seen in my previous posting).  A healthy kebab, if you like, which Paul and I shared there and then.

We continued along the route past several other beautiful buildings and temples, including the stunning Chion-in with its vast gate.

We’d booked lunch at the handmade noodle shop we’d discovered the night before.  Nakajima san had reserved a private room for us  at his restaurant, Uichiro.  The sunlight filtered into the miniature garden facing our little tatami mat room, making for a calm, relaxing atmosphere.

We sat on the cushions at our low table and shared a fresh, crisp mooli salad with spring leaves and a Japanese dressing.

Our tempura soba arrived swiftly after that– Paul’s was cold, with a dipping sauce, mine hot, with the hegi noodles sitting in the soup.  Nakajima san told us that eating the noodles cold allowed their fragrance to be enjoyed at their best, but for those that enjoyed the broth (like me), hot was better.

We were then brought the hot water the noodles had been cooked with – which is usually added to the dipping sauce that comes with the zaru soba (cold noodles) so you can drink it warm at the end like a soup.  In normal noodle shops, it’s not always brought to you, but you can ask for soba yu, and they will gladly bring you some.  Nakajima san told us that it was very good for the consitution and could be drunk just on its own.  So I did (as I’d had the hot soba).  We asked to share a kinako (roasted soya flour, with a nutty, caramel-like flavour) ice cream topped with molasses syrup but Nakajima san insisted on bringing us an extra one on the house.  It was absolutely dreamy.

We’d like to thank Nakajima san for his wonderful hospitality and food; we enjoyed eating at Uichiro enormously and hope to be back there again to enjoy another season’s worth of food there.  Here we are, with Nakajima san himself.

We went to a little internet cafe recommended by the friendly waiter, who went there to read manga books and lie on a massage bed for his afternoon break until evening service.  Paul was flabbergasted by the sheer variety and volume of comics and browsed while I went online for  a while.

Walking back to Fawlty Towers, we passed street after attractive blossom-lined street, stopping at a traditional senbe shop to take some snaps.  Senbe are my favourite Japanese snacks.  Made of rice, you can get a whole range of shapes, sizes and textures, mostly flavoured with a base of soya sauce, but with top flavourings of anything from sesame, sour plum, chili spices, crystal sugar; the varieties available are endless and change from region to region.

I didn’t buy any though.  We needed to save space in our stomachs for the fabulous food experience that lay ahead.  We were going to Okumura’s, a French-influenced Japanese Kaiseki restaurant in the heart of the Gion entertainment district of Kyoto.

A brief return to Fawlty Towers to get dressed for the occasion couldn’t dampen our excitement about this much anticipated meal.  And again, this meal was so great an experience that it is going to get its own posting… one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten.  Paul says “It’s definitely one of the top three meals I’ve had in my life, and it’s set a ridiculously high benchmark for all Japanese food I’m going to be eating from now on”

Sybil’s breakfast wasn’t going to get much of a look-in on the Arguile gourmet ranking the next morning then.

…Il 22 marzo la via del fiore e della luce è stata percorsa dalle maiko Miyofuku e Toshiteru, appartenenti al distretto di Miyagawa-cho. Fortunato chi, come il mio amico Dave Lumenta, ha potuto ammirare la loro esibizione!

La maiko Miyofuku, durante la Jinrikishas (Rickshaw Procession).

Le maiko Miyofuku e Toshiteru, si esibiscono sul palco: è il Hanabutai (Flower Stage).

Powered by Dave Lumenta.

…La dolcezza di Toshiteru e l’eleganza di Miyofuku accarezzano l’anima. E anche MASA sembra esserne stato ammaliato…

Powered by MASA’s PHOTOS.

La via del fiore e della luce quest’anno si accende, in città, dal 14 al 23 marzo. Vi servirà almeno un’ora per esplorare completamente i suoi 4,6 chilometri!

Il Lanterns Festival si celebra, a Kyoto, solo dal 2003: lo scopo è quello di promuovere il turismo in questo specifico mese. Duemilaquattrocento lanterne di sei tipi differenti si sono materializzate in Higashiyama, da Sanjo a Gojo, e splendide decorazioni floreali profumano il parco Maruyama-koen.

Shidare Zakura al Maruyama Park, fotografato da Dave Lumenta.

I templi e i santuari della zona illuminano i propri edifici e i maestosi alberi. In questi spettacolari dieci giorni si possono ammirare tanti eventi culturali differenti!

Le maiko dei cinque hanamachi, ad esempio, sfileranno a turno in una sorta di processione nella Jinrikishas (Rickshaw Procession): il 14, il 15, il 16, il 20 e il 22 marzo.

La maiko di Kamishichiken Ichiteru, durante la Rickshaw Procession fotografata da Dave Lumenta.

La maiko di Kamishichiken Naokazu, durante la Rickshaw Procession fotografata da Dave Lumenta.

Le artiste inviteranno i visitatori alla loro performance, partendo dal Gion Corner e arrivando fino al parco del Kodai-ji koen, attraverso la via Shijo-dori, il giardino Maruyama koen e la strada Nene-no-michi. Quindi le due fortunate maiko si esibiranno sul palco: è il Hanabutai (Flower Stage).

Le maiko di Kamishichiken Naokazu e Ichiteru, mentre si esibiscono in un Kyomai per l’Hanabutai, fotografate da Dave Lumenta (20 marzo 2008).

Hanatōro 2007.

Hanatōro 2008.

After our stay in Tokyo, the Crew and I took the shinkansen down to Kyoto where we stayed for a couple of days. If you’re in Kyoto for two days, and it’s the new year holiday, the thing to do is certainly to go templing. After arriving in Kyoto, checking into the hotel room, and having a delicious tempura dinner at Takasebune, we walked over to Yasaka-jinja, which is Kyoto’s most famous shrine. As I’ve written elsewhere,

Yasaka Shrine, formerly known as Gion Shrine, was built to appease the gods responsible for plague and, as such, is symptomatic of the form of ceremonial appeasment that was the hallmark of early Shinto. Gion Matsuri, one of Japan’s three biggest festivals, began in 869 when the deities enshrined at Yasaka-jinja were paraded through the streets to help stave off an epidemic. Yasaka-jinja is still visited by people who come to pray for health and prosperity, and it is one of the most popular spots for the new year’s hatsumode visit.

Since we arrived in Kyoto on the 3rd, Yasaka wasn’t as packed with hatsumode visitors as it would have been on the 1st or 2nd, but there was still a steady flow of people through Yasaka’s persimmon-orange entry gate.

Banks of lanterns light up Yasaka’s Higashiyama entrance.

Visitors leave coins at the shrine area to pray for health and good fortune in the new year.

The white paper tassels that you see hanging below the lanterns are omikuji, or fortunes. And all of them are bad. When you get a bad fortune at a temple or a shrine, the practice is to tie them to a tree or other area within the shrine precincts so that you can leave your bad fortune behind. Since so many people come to Yasaka-jinja for hatsumode, and since so many people like to get omikuji for the new year, there were literally thousands, if not tens of thousands, of bad fortunes cleverly attached to any available space at Yasaka-jinja.

The next morning we woke up for some serious templing, starting with a trip to Teramachi-dori. Teramachi (which basically means “temple city”) is primarily a shopping street now, but there are still several small temples located within the covered arcade that runs between Shiji-dori and Oike-dori. Especially interesting is Takoyakushido, a small temple with a beautiful shrine area and a nice, funky garden area in the back. The ‘tako’ in Takoyakushido means “octopus,” and there’s some connection between the tako and the temple, though I couldn’t figure out what it is. There were several beautiful hand-painted placards for sale at the temple depicting a woman, if I remember correctly, standing next to an enormous red human-sized octopus. There’s not a ton of other octopus paraphernalia around, but there’s certainly enough to make a visit to this temple interesting.

After our walk through Teramachi we made our way to Chion-in, located on the edge of Kyoto’s Maruyama Park (a prime spot for cherry blossom viewing). The entry gate at Chion-in is the largest in Japan, and was apparently built during the temple’s 1633 restoration in order to advertise both the power of Jodo-sect Buddhism, and the power of the Tokugawa shogunate, which funded the restoration. The spirits of Tokugawa Ieyasu, his son Hidetada, and his grandson, Iemitsu, are all enshrined here.

Chion-in was built on the site where Honen, the founder of the Jodo-sect, started to preach in 1175. The temple area is incredibly beautiful, with several impressive buildings and nice grounds that extend up into the mountains behind the temple. The whole place has a kind of piney feeling to it. Apparently the new year’s ringing of the huge bell on the temple grounds (108 times for all of your 108 sins) is broadcast on television every year.

After visiting Chion-in we walked up the hill to Ryozen-ji to visit the Ryozen Kannon, which I think is a really interesting place to visit, even if it wasn’t built until the 1950s.

Although Jorge didn’t get a chance to enter the Daibutsu at Kamakura, he was able to go inside the seated figure of Kannon, which is dark except for candles and a scant few bare electric bulbs. There are various altars inside the Kannon, including several where you can purchase omikuji based on the year of your birth. This particular shrine area is for the Year of the Dragon, but of course this year it’s the Year of the Boar.

We ended our day of templing by hiking up to one of Kyoto’s most famous temples — Kiyomizudera.

Although I’ve been to Kyomizudera before, this was the first time to stop off at the popular “love shrine” located on the temple grounds. Jishu-jinja is a busy area, full of young people and love charms, and several small shrines.

Here’s the story of the rabbit and its sacred stick and the man with the hammer who looks like he’s about to pound Leon’s head in:

The god of Jishu Shrine is Okuninushi no mikoto, whose story appears in the most ancient history of Japan, the Kojiki. When a rabbit gained what it wanted by deceiving others, it was forced to peel off its skin. Okuninushi, a sweet-tempered god, healed it and made it mend its ways.

In any case, there are two rocks in the shrine area, and if you walk from one to the other with your eyes closed (about ten meters) while repeating the name of your beloved, your wish will be fulfilled! Of course I tried it, while Tessa and Leon helped me out with the occasional walking instruction: “Straight. Keep going straight. A little to the left.” Thanks to their guidance, I successfully ran my shin right into the goal stone, and so now I’m guaranteed love! But whose name was I calling? Could it have been YOURS, dear Reader?

Here’s a view of the main temple area at Kiyomizudera, taken from the opposite hill where the small pagoda sits.

I’m not sure why, but all of the color shots of Kiyomizudera that I took this time around turned out looking very bland. The wood of the temple is a beautiful aged grey color, but all my color shots came out looking either too vibrant or too drab. Black and white seemed to have fit the mood of the temple a bit more, so here’s a black-and-white view from below of the famous main hall at Kiyomizudera, which has an enormous veranda that’s propped up by the framework you can see here in the picture — entirely put together without the use of nails.

Here’s the silhouette of the small pagoda that sits that sits on the hill opposite from the main temple area.

These three blue-bibbed jizo stones can be found on the path that leads down to Otowa-no-taki.

Otowa-no-taki is Kiyomizudera’s sacred waterfall. Visitors come here to drink the healing waters of Kiyomizudera. I’ve never had any of the water myself, mostly because the line is always so long. There’s a fascinating system at work here where drinking cups are placed in circular holders at the end of long sticks so that you can reach out and collect some of the water from the fall. When you’re finished with the cup, you put it in a separate bin so that it can be taken off and washed. Judging by the length of the line, there must be a lot of monks constantly busy with washing duties.

After leaving Kyomizudera’s grounds, we ran into this maiko, who was nice enough to let us take her picture. But was she really a maiko? Apparently not. There are several studios in Kyoto where you can get dressed up as maiko and then tour around the Higashiyama area while you get your photograph taken and this ‘maiko’ probably came from the one at the bottom of the Chawan-zaka, one of the main roads leading up to Kiyomizudera. There are similar places where you can get dressed up like a samurai if you’re a dude. Of course, real maiko and geiko do visit the Higashiyama area from time to time. Perhaps I should try out this service next time I’m in the Higashiyama area? I can already imagine myself hiking up the hills on my platform geta, long kimono sleeves trailing in the wind. How Romantic!

Kiyomizudera, founded in 788, is one of the most famous temples in Kyoto. People come here to pray to the eleven-headed Kannon statue that is only shown publicly once every 33 years. Needless to say, since it was a beautiful Spring day during Golden Week, Kiyomizudera was packed. Strangely, however, I enjoy Japanese crowds. Because Japan’s urban areas are so densely populated it seems that most Japanese people are quite comfortable in crowded conditions and you don’t end up with the kind of “angry crowd” phenomenon you seem to get so much of in the States. In fact, the crowded approach to the temple simply lent a jostling sense of excitement to the whole thing. We had become pilgrimatic Brownian motion.

This is the main approach to Kiyomizudera. I’m not sure whether the orange buildings are actually a part of Kiyomizudera proper, or a part of Jishu Shrine, a separate shrine complex. Apparently, Jishu Shrine is a love shrine dedicated to “the cupid of Japan.” Jess and I didn’t enter the shrine itself, but there are two “love stones,” some 10 meters apart, and you are supposed to be guaranteed eternal bliss if you can walk from the one to the other while murmuring (or muttering?) the name of the one you love.

A closer view of the entry gate.

This is the view to your right as you approach the main entrance to Kiyomizudera. If you look closely you can see a pagoda peeking out from the trees off in the distance.

This is a view looking back from the main entrance of Kiyomizudera.

A worshipper praying in the main hall. There was a long line of people waiting to ring the bell and then pray in front of the altar. I’m not positive, but I expect that the eleven-headed Kannon is enshrined here.

This is the famous main hall at Kiyomizudera. The veranda of this hall, which juts out steeply above the hillside, was built without using a single nail. In Japanese the phrase “to jump off Kiyomizu’s stage” is the equivalent of the English “to take the plunge.”

Here’s a view of Kiyomizudera’s second largest hall, taken from the veranda of the main hall. If you look at the large version, you can see that the veranda is sardined with people.

A view of Kiyomizudera taken from the approach to the small mountain pagoda.

The pagoda itself is actually smaller than it seems at a distance. That’s Jess on the bottom, taking a snap of it.

A view of the pagoda’s woodwork, with spring foliage.

Kiyomizu literally means “pure water” and the sacred spring ends here at the Otowa-no-taki, a small waterfall where visitors drink the sacred waters, which are supposed to have therapeutic properties.

Kids having fun with therapy.

The approach to Kiyomizudera is known as the Chawan-zaka, or “Teapot Lane,” because it’s lined with shops selling. among other things, teapots and other tea-related items. You can also buy local delicacies like sembe (crackers), tsukemono (pickles), and wagashi (tea sweets). The street food is outstanding and I really wish that Jess and I had more time to simply stroll. Much of the Higashiyama area is a preservation district and the major streets, which are paved with stones, are lined with classic wooden buildings, shops, teahouses, and restaurants. I imagine this area is at its most enticing in the cool Autumn months, or as dusk falls.

Of course, Kyoto is also awash in the ubiquitous bobble-head geisha, its face bowing up and down eternally, attempting to draw customers inside.

Kyoto is the current center of geisha culture in Japan, though in Kyoto geisha are known as geiko. Geisha, which literally means “art-person,” are artist-entertainers who are trained in a variety of skills including use of the shamisen and shakuhachi, traditional Japanese dance and song, the tea ceremony, ikebana, and classical poetry. This training usually begins at a young age (though more and more women are beginning their training later in life) when a woman decides to become a maiko, or apprentice geiko. Just like everyone else, Kyoto’s geiko and maiko enjoy walking around Kyoto on a beautiful spring day, and Jess and I saw several small groups strolling through the Higashiyama area throughout the course of the day. The large group of maiko above were busy snapping photo-phone shots of each other, but they very kindly posed for a photo when I asked them if that would be okay.

The geiko on the right is named Komomo (“Little Peach” — it’s her geiko name), which I know because I read an article about her in Kateigaho International, a magazine that I have been ridiculed mercilessly by a Japanese friend for reading (“What? Kateigaho? My MOTHER reads that magazine!”).

What I like about this picture is the tiny geiko that appears to be sitting on Komomo’s shoulder. What you don’t see in this picture is the circle of amateur photographers surrounding the pair of geiko and snapping away furiously. I stood off in the background and used the zoom. As far as I could tell, the general pattern went something like this: 1) Geiko sighting. 2) Intrepid individual asks if it’s alright to take a photo. 3) Geiko very kindly stop to pose for a picture. 4) A million amateur photographers, seeing that geiko are posing for a photo, form a semi-circle and snap away. 5) After a few minutes, everyone becomes shamefully aware of the spectacle that they are turning the geiko into, and the photographers retreat back into the crowd. 6) Pattern repeats every ten minutes or so. Since this was during Golden Week, on one of the most beautiful days of the year, it was incredibly crowded so this probably isn’t the normal state of affairs. Still, it must be difficult to negotiate a profession in which your everyday appearance always draws so much attention. I think the geiko and maiko that we encountered while we walked through the Higashiyama were incredibly gracious and patient. Probably a central component of learning the craft of the geiko.

Kyoto’s monument to the Unknown Soldier gets barely a mention in the guidebooks (probably because it was constructed in the 1950s), which is unfortunate because it’s both an impressive structure and a fascinating cultural and historical locus. The telling opening line of the English-language pamphlet’s description of “Ryozen Kwannon” reads as follows:

In commemoration of those Japanese who sacrificed themselves in the last war and for the establishment of a peaceful Japan, this concrete statue of the compassionate Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara (Kwannon) was erected by the late Hirosuke Ishikwawa.

The copula joining the two halves of the sentence reveals the uneasy relationship that Japan has to its imperial past, as well as the psychic break that most Japanese people have made with this past, even though it exists as a strong cultural unconscious within the social body, and a conscious cultural ploy within the body of Japan’s political elite. The fact that the monument attempts to commemorate both Japanese soldiers and a peaceful Japan, but cannot commemorate “Japanese who sacrificed themselves FOR a peaceful Japan” reveals the disconnect between a past directed toward conquest and a present in which Japan sees itself as both a peaceful and peacebuilding nation. The fact that politicians like Koizumi use their visits to sites like Yasukuni Jinja to mobilize a conservative base that views Japan’s war memorials as patriotic reminders of a more glorious military past stands in sharp contrast with the many monuments for peace in Japan that clearly resist the notion that militarism and peace can in any way be coextensive. These conflicting tendencies play themselves out in the English-language plaque in the Memorial Hall:

All honor to him, friend or foe,
Who fought and died for his country!
May the tragedy of his supreme
Sacrifice bring to us, the living,
Enlightenment and inspiration;
Fill us with an ever-mounting zeal
For the all-compelling quest for peace,
World peace and universal brotherhood.

Could this be any more self-contradictory and confused? And yet, the desire for peace among the general population in Japan is one of the strongest that I’ve encountered anywhere. Despite the nationalists’ black vans, despite desires to revise Article 9 of the Japanese constitution, despite the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) racism on display among certain segments of the population, there’s a genuine sense that a peaceful, more equitable world is both possible and desirable. This is a sense that seems to have vanished in the States where it seems that the only possible view of world affairs involves perpetual war and uneasy truces. Of course, the goals of the political elite and the desires of the general population are often in conflict — perhaps no more clearly displayed than in Okinawa’s desire for the U.S. military to leave, and Tokyo’s refusal to let local referendums on the subject (overwhelmingly rejecting U.S. presence) deter its desire to retain the U.S. as an ally.

These memorial items are to be found, along with thousands of Jizo statues, in the Mizugo Jizoson area to the right of the main temple. I’m not sure what the significance of the children’s toys is.

Here is a closeup of strings of paper cranes memorializing the dead.

These colorful windmills surround a sitting Jizo figure.

Here is a view of a section of one of the cases that hold thousands of identical Jizo figures.

A closeup of the Jizo figures.

Jess and I kept getting told by the priests working at the temple to ‘go round back,’ but there didn’t seem to be much to be seen (aside from “Japan’s largest stone footprint of the Buddha”) until we noticed the steps going up inside the body of the enormous Kannon statue topping the temple. In fact, it’s possible to enter the body of Kannon, which is a dark core filled with floating lanterns and silent, haloed guardians.

A glowing ghost carp swims in the pool in front of Ryozen Kannon.

Kodai-ji temple was founded in 1605 by Kita-no-Mandokoro (popularly known as Nene), the wife of Toyotomi Hideyoshi, in memory of her late husband. It was heavily financed by Tokugawa Ieyasu, “Hideyoshi’s chief vassal and later Shogun of Japan” (from the pamphlet). While the provenance of Kodai-ji is interesting, its most striking aspect is its beautiful gardens, gardens that are so extensive that the temple buildings themselves seem a bit displaced in grandeur. More at home in these gardens are Kodai-ji’s four famous teahouses, two of which were designed by Sen-no-Rikyu, the famous teamaster who is credited with establishing the Japanese tea ceremony as it’s known today. The first of the teahouses that you walk past at Kodai-ji is the lovely Onigawara-seki, pictured above.

Since Kodai-ji is currently a Rinzai sect Zen temple, it cannot be without its sand garden. Though I haven’t seen it at night, I’m sure that moonlight viewing is best.

This is the Kaisan-do, which is dedicated to the memory of Sanko Joeki, Kodai-ji’s founding priest. According to the pamphlet, “The ceiling in the front part of the building originally belonged to Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s private ship; the colored ceiling to the center was constructed of materials from Kita-no-Mandokoro’s court carriage.” I’m not sure whether or not the ceiling that Jess and were looking at belonged to the carriage or the ship, but the circular flying white dragon motif was pretty spectacular.

This is the section of the Garyoro, or “Reclining Dragon Corridor,” that crosses the pond behind the Kaisan-do. The Garyoro connects the Kaisan-do with the Otama-ya, and its name stems from its resemblance to a reclining dragon.

The Otama-ya (or “Sanctuary”) is the memorial hall in which Toyotomi HIdeyoshi and Kita-no-Mandokoro are enshrined. Their wooden images can be seen at the rear of the hall, one on each side of an intricately lacquered shrine. This view of the roof joints should give some idea of the intricate detail that has gone into the construction of the Otama-ya.

This is the Kasa-tei (just think “Casa Tea”), designed by Sen-no-Rikyu.

A closer view of Kasa-tei’s thatched roof.

This rare two-story teahouse, also designed by Sen-no-Rikyu, is known as the Shigure-tei. The Shigure-tei and Kasa-tei are connected by an outside corridor.

Kodai-ji is located in the Higashiyama, or ‘Eastern Mountain,’ section of Kyoto. As such, it has some pretty steep slopes. By the time you finish your tour at the Rikyu-designed teahouses, you’ll have gained quite a bit of elevation. You can work off your elevation by walking downhill through this beautiful bamboo grove.

Just as Jess and I were leaving the temple grounds, we spotted this great peach tile. It’s the only one I’ve seen in all of Japan.

At the height of the Golden Week holidays, the weather in the Kansai area turned perfect — t-shirt warm with cloudless blue skies. It was like a California summer day, and if you live in Japan you know how rare it is to actually have a day like that. It was a perfect day to take the train to Kyoto, and since everyone else in Japan had the day off too, the train was packed. Nevertheless, even in the middle of an endless flow of people, Kyoto on a beautiful day is a magnificent place to be.

Jess and I walked up to Yasaka Shrine first, where we ate some takoyaki and grilled bamboo shoots for lunch, and then we headed out through Eastern Gion toward the HIgashiyama area.

Yasaka Pagoda (no relation to Yasaka Shrine), is all that remains of a larger Buddhist temple that once stood there. The pagoda, somewhat of a Kyoto landmark, was built in 1436 and its five stories emerge startlingly from within a landscape of low wooden buildings. Inside the pagoda there are four golden Buddhas, and you can climb a very steep ladder-style stair up the second level where you get a good view of the enormous post that supports the five-story building.

This is a picture of one of the Buddhas inside Yasaka Pagoda. Though the Buddhas are mostly gold, there are various deep hues that hover around their skins — perhaps greens, and purples, and reds.

This is a small Buddhist shrine located just to the side of the pagoda proper.