In un fiocco di neve

che presto si scioglie

c’è tutto l’universo.

Da tutto l’universo

scende un fiocco di neve.

Geschrieben von Sylvia

Nachdem wir auf dem Flugzeugbildschirm mitverfolgen mussten, wie Hannover verschwand, sind wir gestern Morgen am Flughafen in Tokio gelandet. Dort erstmal das vollautomatische Klo mit “Popodusche” und Abzugsplayback zur Übertönung der eigenen Geräusche ausprobiert und unseren mitgebrachten Igel bei der örtlichen Quarantäne abgegeben. (Ja, ja, Hans-Hermann musste dran glauben…) Da sind die hier hart.

Per Limosinenbus mit eingebautem W-LAN (das leider nicht so richtig laufen wollte) sind wir an dann gemütlich und relativ günstig bei unserem Ryokan angekommen, das übrigens tatsächlich sehr nett, günstig, sauber und ziemlich praktisch gelegen ist!

Nachdem wir das System der Metro hier erkundet hatten, sind wir in der bunten Glitzerwelt von Tokio abgetaucht, wo wir fleißig Fotos aufgenommen haben. Leider ist das W-LAN-Signal hier im Ryokan verbesserungswürdig, insofern gibt’s die Fotos später.

So, Yuki and I took a few days to visit some of the early temples and castles in the Kansai region of Japan. Most of the structures we saw date back to the 8th century and are truly amazing! Besides the structures there were also tons of great sculptures from the same time period. However, as you all know, this blog isn’t about architecture, it’s about food. This post is to let you know about the incredible Kaiseki we ate our last night in Nara at the Ryokan (traditional Japanese Inn) we stayed at, Yoshino.

Kaiseki is the classic multi-course meal that progresses through various cooking techniques using regional, seasonal ingredients. It’s the highest art form you can find in food anywhere in the world. Focus on the subtleties of each ingredient to draw out natural flavors and not cover then with heavy sauces (sorry Frenchies, but the Japanese have your asses kicked in food culture!).

It started with that dish in the middle of the picture above. From left to right was a little fish grilled in a sweet soy marinade, a roasted chestnut, ama ebi (sweet shrimp), some sort of seafood that had a jellyfish-like texture in a miso sauce (I have absolutely no idea what it was, but it sure tasted good!), then a three-colored fish cake.

After that they brought out this dish. It was obviously a shrimp, but I’m not quite sure what else there was. I think it was a gratin made with the roe of the shrimp. Also on the plate as a macaroni salad and some lettuce with a tomato.

Then we moved on to the sashimi plate. It had some fantastic Chu-Toro (tuna), Tai (snapper), and the star of the plate….Ika (squid). In the States when you order Ika it’s usually very thin and a little rubbery. Not these two slices. They were about a half centimeter thick, squid steaks! Rubbery? Hell no! Each chew and the squid literally melted away in our mouths. Hands down the best squid I’ve ever eaten.

Then they brought us a plate of steamed Ayu (sweet fish). It’s a river fish that eats moss attached to stones giving it a really fresh and clean taste. It was served with a light ginger sauce. The thing that makes Ayu special is that it’s eaten when the belly is full of fish roe. There isn’t much meat, so it’s like dipping chopsticks into a bowl of fresh water caviar.

Being the meatavore that I am, the next plate was what I was most looking forward to….Beef Tataki. Lightly seared beef to give a little texture to the soft raw meat laden with mouth-watering fat. The dipping sauce is a soy-dashi mix. You see the little mound of reddish gew on the side of the dish? That’s a mix of togarahsi (Japanese red pepper) and yuzu (a small citrus fruit). You mix that into the sauce like you would wasabi for sushi, along with thinly sliced chives. With the tataki there was a small dish of sliced cucumber and I think seaweed in a vinegar sauce that cleansed the palette from the fatty beef.

Then we ate the Shabu-shabu. Unfortunately I forgot to get a picture of the individual hotpots we used, but here’s the ingredients. The broth was a light sake base, in it we added cabbage, enoki mushrooms, and shimeji mushrooms. Once they were cooked, we sloshed the thinly sliced beef around to cook it and then dipped it all in a light soy with more of the togarashi yuzu and chives.

After that we got two different preparations of Unagi. To be honest, I have absolutely no clue what the difference was. One was served on top of rice, the other with rice on the side. All I can tell you is that you will never find eel of that quality anywhere in the States. It tasted like they just caught it that morning. Best eel ever! Both came with a little dish of Japanese pickles. They were probably damn good pickles, but I don’t like pickles so I let Yuki eat mine.

After the Unagi was a clear broth soup with an ingredient we couldn’t figure out. At first, we thought it was some sort of mushroom. It wasn’t. Then we thought it might be shiroko, fish sperm sack. It wasn’t that either. We finally found out that it was eel liver, probably from the Unagi we just ate. It had kind of a crunchy yet soft texture. Not something you’ll find on any old menu.

Finally, to finish things off was a plate with fresh persimmons and grapes. persimmons are in season right now and are everywhere while Japanese grapes are absolutely huge compared to what we get.

All in all this was my 5th Kaiseki. I wish I could afford to eat like this every night as there is always something unusual and strange to the western palette. If any of you get to Japan I highly recommend splurging at least once to experience the delicate yet sophisticated Japanese cuisine at it’s finest.

Giant Buddha at Todaiji Temple, Nara

So far I’ve spent a lot of time talking about what there is to do in Osaka, but this time I want to give a quick overview of places that can be visited as day trips from Osaka. It is, in fact, the perfect city for this, because of its central location and its function as a transportation hub for the Kansai area.

The obvious destination is Kyoto, which is by far the most popular tourist destination in Japan among both domestic and international tourists. Then is nearby Nara (the imperial capital  from 710-794, before it moved to Kyoto), which like Kyoto is home to a number of famous temples and shrines including Todaiji, Koryuji, and Kasuga Taisha. I prefer Nara over Kyoto because it feels more genuine and is not as crowded. Kobe is known as a pleasant, cosmopolitan city with an international feel–I recommend the waterfront Meriken Park, which is a romantic hot spot at night. Then there’s Himeji, with its soaring castle that is more famous and impressive than any other in the country.

Wakaura Tenmangu Shrine, Wakayama City

If you’re looking for something new, why not try Wakayama City? It has a number of gorgeous old temples, some great food, and lovely beaches and hot spring areas. Iga, one of the two great ninja towns of Japan (the other being Koga in Shiga Prefecture), is located in Nara Prefecture and features a ninja museum that you’re sure to get a kick out of. Kumano Kodo, a pilgrimage route that has been celebrated since ancient times, has recently become popular after being named as Japan’s newest UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Yoshino is famous for its autumn colors and spring cherry blossoms, and also has a number of lovely old ryokan and baths. Further east is Ise Shrine (in eastern Mie Prefecture), the most important Shinto shrine in Japan. It is connected to the imperial family, and it has been rebuilt every 20 years on alternating lots using the same architecture and materials since the beginning of Japan as a unified civilization.

Ninja train, Iga

Yes, there are even ninjas inside the ninja train.

Heading north from Osaka, you will find Uji, which is famous for it matcha powdered green tea, and also for Byodoin, a graceful temple that is meant to be an earthly re-creation of the Buddhist paradise (you can find it pictured on the ten yen coin). Fushimi-Inari Shrine is a complex winding its way up a mountainside, featuring paths lined with thousands of bright-orange torii gates that create an impressive tunnel-like effect. The Lake Biwa area is also a treasure trove of great places to see and delicious foods to eat (read about my journey around the lake here).

There are more options available, but the places listed above are all great destinations for day or weekend trips out of the city. With the autumn leaves reaching their colorful peak, now is the perfect time to experience the many faces of the Kansai region.

After two consecutive days of bustling Tokyo, our next destination would be a lot quieter in comparison. On 8 September, we began our quick-stop tour of western Japan, moving from city to city with more speed than a Kenyan sprinter on…speed. Naturally, I’m not going to cover all of the exciting places I visited in one go, so stay tuned for the other four parts after this one (yes, this is a ten part ordeal, be amazed). Having spent a week in and around the buzzing centre of the country, I was beginning to think that nothing outside Tokyo or Yokohama existed.

I was filled with considerable anticipation, then, when it was announced that we would be travelling deep into the unknown hill-country of Shizuoka. Of course, it wasn’t unknown at all, but I liked to think it was, like I was some sort of intrepid Anglo-Irish explorer, conquering the terrain of some utterly alien new land. In writing that sentence, it has become clear to me that I need to start reading/playing less fantasy lest I sound like a total psychopath. Regardless, on our drive from the suburbia (I use the term suburbia very lightly, as it doesn’t seem to exist in Japan) of Kanagawa, there was plenty a beautiful sight to behold, and most of it to the soundtrack of Pokémon, as during our four hour drive to our mountain lodgings, I don’t think H.’s mix-CD was changed once. I now know the lyrics to two of the said cartoon series’ opening themes, as of course for me to have known them beforehand would have been absolutely preposterous…ahem.

Surviving miles of long-winding and often treacherous roads, we eventually arrived at our ryokan, a traditional Japanese-style inn. Nestled deep in the hills, ‘idyllic’ would have been putting it lightly. Indeed, as the title of this post suggests, I really did feel like we were some sort of travelling samurai, stepping backwards in time to a now sadly dwindling Japanese Japan, with paper walls, sliding doors, futons and the like. Aside from my unfounded nostalgia and the obvious impracticalities of using paper walls and mats for flooring in a 21st century world of skyscrapers and bullet-trains, it was fantastic nonetheless. Taking off our shoes at the entrance (as is typical in Japanese houses), we were escorted to our room. Sliding the highly ornate door aside revealed a large open space with nothing but a table and some small cushions for us to sit ourselves down on, an alcove by the window adjoined.

Up the road from the ryokan.

Setting our bags down and helping ourselves to a rather pungent, yet equally delicious sweet rice-ball thing, we decided to bathe. This particular ryokan was of the hot-spring variety (more sausage, folks!), though this time it was a  private affair, so the three of us had a bath to ourselves. For any reader that’s just joined in this epic tale, nakedness is something that the Japanese take with a pinch of salt and a degree of gusto, and rightfully so. I think it’s high-time that the Europeans and Americans got off their high-horses of prudery and realised that, well, every man has a penis and every girl has a vagina. Unless you are transsexual and therefore have the best of both worlds. Either way, big bloody whoop. Inconveniently for three heterosexual males, our outdoor grotto bath was shamefully romantic, perhaps best suited to couples, rather than rabbles of young men. The water was hot indeed, whilst the overpowering odour of sulphur made soaks of more than five minutes difficult.

More of the ryokan's scenery. No bathing men, sorry!

Returning from the bath-house to our rooms, adorning some traditional Japanese robes in the process (think tailored dressing-gowns), we were quickly ushered into an adjacent dining room where supper had been delightfully provided for us. It was the real deal – sushi, sashimi, tempura, you name it. Salmon, tuna, squid, shrimp and chicken (the cooks had angelically taken it upon themselves to rustle up some meat for the duo of European palates) accompanied by pickled vegetables, all washed down by a pint of very refreshing beer. It was a mouthgasm, and that was putting it lightly. Stomachs full, we lumbered back to our room to find that while we had been eating, the small table that had once graced the centre had now disappeared and laid down in its stead were futon, Japanese bed-rolls. Considering the handiwork of magical Japanese elves (and not the inn staff), I collapsed into…well, not sleep, actually. It took absolutely sodding ages for me to venture off into the realm of slumber because of my ridiculously hard pillow; so hard was it in fact, that when I woke up in the morning, I had more knots in my shoulder muscles than a suicide-bomber has virgins in Paradise.

A scroll in our room, supposedly to ward off evil spirits.

Sadly, we had to make a quick exit if were to get to Nagoya (our next stop) on schedule. We had a huge and hearty breakfast; traditional meals are hard to differentiate in Japan.  Breakfast has miso soup, as does supper. It has fish and meat too, not unlike supper. And of course, the ubiquitous pot of rice is on hand at any meal you care to imagine. Fresh fruit was pretty much all that defined our morning meal from the food we had eaten the night before, though it was still thoroughly delicious. If there’s one thing the Japanese have certainly mastered, it’s the culinary arts.

Breakfast.

Thus it was over; we exchanged our yukata robes for our t-shirts and shorts, our wooden sandals for our shoes, our welcoming, slightly uncomfortable futon for our travel-bags and headed for the entrance. The ryokan keeper pounced on us from the desk (in a nice way, you understand, not in some sort of angry lioness way) and demanded we take a free gift back with us. From amongst paper-fans, cloth and chopsticks, I took a  black and gold floral wash-bag, something that my father now uses to keep his Fixodent and dental-floss in. Nice.

Out into the mountain, we hit the road.

Escaped the nets,

escaped the ropes—

moon on the water.

This is one of my favourite haiku by Buson.  Can everything in the world simply be  commodified and possessed?  What is it in your own small life that you truly value most?

It reminds me of this story about the Zen monk and poet Ryōkan:

One evening a thief visited Ryokan’s hut at the base of the mountain only to discover there was nothing to steal. Ryokan returned and caught him. “You have come a long way to visit me,” he told the prowler, “and you should not return empty-handed. Please take my clothes as a gift.” The thief was bewildered. He took the clothes and slunk away. Ryoken sat naked, watching the moon. “Poor fellow,” he mused, “I wish I could have given him this beautiful moon.”

~ ~ ~

Robert Hass (editor), The Essential Haiku: Versions of Bashō, Buson and Issa, New York: HarperCollins Publishers, Inc., 1994, pg. 116.

]]> http://hokku.wordpress.com/2009/10/29/falling-leaves/ Thu, 29 Oct 2009 23:56:53 +0000 hokku http://hokku.wordpress.com/2009/10/29/falling-leaves/

In old hokku, falling and fallen leaves are generally a winter subject.  But where I live, as well as in many other parts of North America, they are generally more appropriate to deep autumn.

Ryōkan wrote:

The wind
Brings enough for a fire –
Fallen leaves.

Have you noticed that old hokku often put the main subject of a verse last?  That gives us a kind of “wondering” buildup to the answer:  The wind brings enough what for a fire?  Then the answer — fallen leaves.

Buson does the same thing in another hokku:

Blown from the west,
They pile up in the east –
Fallen leaves.

To remember this technique, we might call it the “What is it?” technique.  In the first first, we ask “What is it the wind brings enough of?”  Answer:  Fallen leaves.

In the second we ask, “What is it that blows from the east and piles up in the west?  Answer:  Fallen leaves.

If you remember that, it will help you when an experience fits that technique.

Here is one of my very favorite hokku, by Gyōdai:

Falling leaves
Lie on one another;
Rain beats on rain.

Notice how this verse has a kind of parallelism reminiscent of old Chinese verse, and we can put the parts side by side like this for study:

Falling leaves lie on one another;
Rain beats on rain.

The first line has the subject fallen leaves and the action lie on one another.
The second line  has the subject rain and the action beats on rain.

In hokku we want to avoid perfect parallelism in all things, so in this one the third line — comprising the entire second part of the parallelism — is shorter than the first part.

Ryūshi wrote

Stillness;
The sound of a bird walking
On fallen leaves.

That is the regular setting-subject-action hokku.

The setting is “stillness.”

The subject is “the sound of a bird.”

The action is “walking on fallen leaves.”

Many old hokku are about the sound of one thing or another.  You will recall that the best-known of all hokku — Bashō’s Old Pond verse (a spring hokku), has “the sound of water.”

I will end today with another good hokku by Taigi, very expressive of the autumn season and its changes:

Sweeping them up,
Then not sweeping them up –
Fallen leaves.

At first the falling leaves are few, and easily removed.  But as autumn deepens they fall in ever greater numbers, until finally one just gives up and lets the season follow its course.

From this we learn that hokku is not simply a “moment in time,” but rather an expression of time and change.

And do not overlook that Taigi’s hokku also fits the “what is it?” technique:  What is that that we first sweep up, then do not sweep up?  Fallen leaves.

David

 

Late last night, listening to the autumn rain,
       recalling my youth –
Was it only a dream? Was I really young once?

As a young man in Japan, Ryōkan Taigu (1758-1831) trained as a Zen monk, poet, and calligrapher. After his teacher’s death he began a five-year pilgrimage as an unsui (“like clouds and water”) to study with various Zen masters. Following his father’s suicide a few years later, he returned to his native village, found an empty hermitage (a simple hut) halfway up a mountain, and lived there in relative seclusion for the remaining 34 years of his life. At one point he took the literary name Daigu, “great fool.”

Ryōkan left behind a thousand poems, written in different styles of classical Chinese, haiku, waka, and as folk songs. He frequently came down from the mountain to play with the village children, drink saké with the farmers, or visit his friends. He slept when he wanted to, drank freely, and often joined local dancing parties. He begged for his food and gave away what was extra. ”He never preached, but his life radiated purity and joy; he was a living sermon” (p.12). I’m not surprised to discover an affinity with this great fool.

source: Stevens, J. (1988) (trans). One robe, one bowl: the Zen poetry of Ryōkan. New York: Weatherhill. image: Ryōkan by Kawai Gyokudo (1873-1957).

Dad and I return- 19 years on

In a Kimino at age 4. The Japanese culture and the travel bag would stay with me

This is a recent letter from my Dad to my brother about the VERY FIRST trip I ever took.  It’s amazing to read about my parents travel experiences with me. At the age of just 1.5 years old, I was already on the traveller’s path.

Dad is my guest blogger this week!

Re our trip to Japan when you were very young, in 1989.  This is what I remember:

We flew on Japan Air lines (JAL) 747 from Sydney – Tokyo – London. The Tyo – Lon sector was about 12 hours via the North Pole and we saw some great snow and ice covered lands and mountain sights en-route from the plane’s windows.

We stayed in the Shinjuku area west of Tokyo in a Ryokan ( traditional Japanese Inn) complete with Rice-Paper screen doors and a wooden bathtub with a saucepan to wash water over yourself with  No shower).  I wasn’t too keen on it but it was an experience.  I remember walking to find the beer can vending machines I had heard about and came back with a couple. They were all over the place as were machines dispensing cold coffee in cans. I saw many people cycling around. We met some people who had travelled from Canada in the recreation section of the Inn.

On the  day after our arrival, the representative from our Japan freight agent (Tokyu Air Services) looked after us for a whole day and evening and took us on a trip to the Temple at Asakusa, one of the features are it’s giant Red lanterns out the front and markets leading up to it.  There was a also a religious procession in the streets nearby that we stood and watched.  I have some recent photos of the temple as I went there in 2008 with Emma.

We also went to Akihabara – a shopping district specialising in electrical items.

During the time in Tokyo, we travelled on the underground system which was very clean and efficient and had a meal in a another area of Tokyo. Mum might remember where? Many local Japanese people wanted to touch Emma as she had bright blond hair and it is supposed to bring good fortune!

I  hope my recollection helps you.

Cheers

Dad

xo

Japan has always been a very peripheral interest of mine. I don’t know why, my best friend in high school was Japanese, (well, half, but definitely the dominant half) and I like sushi and I love stationary… it should have been a match made in travel heaven.  But the country never really had an effect on me like Italy or Bali or Egypt or Latin America: A need to go.

People in Hong Kong love Japan. They are always talking about the food and the shopping. That did not seem like a good enough reason to go; we’ve got a lot of that right here. Cheaper. Then people said, “Go to Hokkaido, it is like, an amazing little fishing island.” Umm, I live on a little fishing island. So, again… not so totally motivated. Then Japan became, like THE hipster destination. Hmmm. Even less enticing.  But two very dear students of mine here are Japanese (Hello Romi and Yu!) and talked to me a lot about Japan, and I have to admit I was very curious to see what it felt like to be in a country that in spite of its size (because of its size?) has had, historically, some of the biggest geopolitical cojones I can think of. Russia? China? America? Psshhhht. They took ‘em all on. Regardless of the outcome, they were there, and frankly, a bit in the vein of Captain Insano. I think they call it “kamikaze…” Hehehh. [For the record, kamikaze actually means "divine wind" so you get an idea of where they are coming from anyhow.] I guess eventually my interest was piqued, in large part, by the apparently incongruous characteristics displayed by my Japanese students and the country’s history.

Plus, as has been pretty evident, I am just so totally down with vacations right now, when Frenchie suggested going to Kyoto to see the fall colors, I was like… Right, let’s do it. Then I mentioned Japan to my friend Jill who meant to fly over from Delhi come visit me in Hong Kong in July but found herself hospitalized with dehydration after a trip somewhere in India… and it seemed like this might be a great way to finally catch up with each other since HK was a bust and our ships passed in the night stateside. Suddenly I was heading to a country I had never really put super high on my Must-See List (yeah, yeah I know, you list haters will have words here…) AND I was traveling with people rather than my standard solo strategic strike.

Maybe the universe really is shifting.

It was a little presumptuous to take off for a week right after I returned from a five week foray in the States, but I was willing to compromise:  I would fly on Saturday rather than Thursday and be back at work on the following Wednesday. It was going to be a quick trip. Tickets were sorted and I let the rest of the details just sort of emerge from the efforts of Frenchie and J. This, by the way, is a very big step for the control freak that is me. I decided that I would just be where I said I would be and the rest would fall in to place.

And it did.

I flew on Japan Airlines, my first trip on this carrier, and it was lovely. The planes are basically decorated like a Muji store, and so that is all good; lots of soothing taupe and cream colors. I did not get the business class upgrade (this is going to become an obsession I just know it), but I am still very much enjoying the perks of full lounge access in the airports.  As we taxied out of the gate at HKIA, I looked out the window and saw the entire JAL ground crew standing in a line waving to the plane, and as we turned toward the runway they all bowed. For real. And I just saw it randomly. I always feel lucky when I see random stuff like that. And I guess I am feeling pretty lucky these days all the way around. The flight was easy, I was out of the airport and on a bus into Osaka in less than a half hour from landing. I did, however, stop in the bathroom where I had my first WTF?! moment of the weekend. Never have I been confronted with such an array of options on the toilet. Seriously.

Once I was in Osaka I had to find the hotel where I would be meeting Karine on her way in from Nara. We were at the Tokyu Inn and it seemed reasonable enough to walk. Oh, but all the maps and signs are 100% Japanese and no one speaks English. Fortunately, I have an excellent sense of direction and ran into a willing attendant at the Hankyu train station who showed me the streets on a map so I could orienteer through logic if not identify place names. I was at the hotel in less than 15 minutes. Right after I walked in I heard the familiar French and saw Karine. She had gone in circles to arrive at the same destination from the same station – it turns out Frenchie has not one single molecule of directional sense in that international head of hers. Who would have known?

The room was completely tiny, but we had our own kimonos and another magic toilet. When you sit on them water runs in the bowl – either to help with stage fright or to disguise your own bio-noise. I am not sure which. We headed out for some food and Asahi, and so I could really experience what Frenchie’s lack of directional skills was like. Fascinating. And I am not talking about the food. Though that was funny too – we picked a local, local place and had some dodgy tepanyaki and draft beer and then the guy wanted to charge us like US$35. I mean, seriously, for two pints and like five mini meat sticks. I knew Japan was going to be expensive, but seriously.  Sayonara.

Then we went to a noodle shop and I had some of the best gyoza I have ever had. Victory.

We took a little walk around the ‘hood and I found my first 7-11. Bonus victory! Actually, 7-11 turned out to be very important on this trip because they have their own bank in Japan and it was one of the only ones that would accept non-Citibank or Japanese bank cards. Like I need more reasons to bow down to the green and orange. [For those of you who are curious: The door chimes are different, definitely more chimey, and the prepared food is amazing. No real discernible smell either. Japanese 7-11 FTW.]

Back at the hotel we got ready for an early start to head to Kyoto where we would find J, who had failed to read a small detail in our email indicating that we would be in Osaka on this night. As we tucked in, Frenchie mentioned that she was slow to wake up and I told her that was fine because I don’t talk in the mornings until I have been up for at least an hour and have had a good caffeine infusion. I think she interpreted that information the way I had taken her warning that she could walk into a shop, turn around three times, and afterward not know how she got into the shop. I simply did not believe that was possible. Well, I was wrong and so was she in assuming that I was kidding about being basically non-communicative in the mornings. Look at Amanda and Karine learn.

The train to Kyoto was wonderfully simple and brief and ended up in a coffee shop. Another victory. By this time I was a little more awake, though Frenchie’s consistent (audible) disbelief at my quiescence encouraged me to suggest she go get a donut. When she came back to the table, I asked her what kind of donut she got and she said her favorite, actually she said it was her second favorite since they did not have her true favorite. I asked what that might be. She said “Jelly-filled.” If there is a donut on the planet that I would never eat, that would be it. I had to laugh. Have I mentioned that there are about two things in the universe that Frenchie and I share sentiments about? [Those two things being each other, there is not one other matching preference. For real. It is sort of amazing.]

We took a bus into the center of town near our hotel, a ryokan near Keihan-Sanjo Station. J had already stepped out for the morning when we arrived, so we dumped our things and headed out to see the surrounding area.

And this is what Kyoto is all about.

It is beautiful.
It is clean.
It is quiet.
It has an excellent aesthetic in every way.
It is very different from any place I have ever been.

Later we met up with J pretty much like clockwork. I was starting to realize this whole going with the flow thing? Way cool – and it works. We got our room sorted out and headed for lunch. We ended up at this kind of cafe place where you put your money in a vending machine and get a ticket and then get your food. Strange but effective system. A characteristic that I must admit fully describes my experience in Japan. After lunch we decided to take a bus to the Ginkakuji Temple because it was a place my step dad had suggested. He actually was at this exact temple the day I was born. I thought that was pretty cool. And it was lovely. From there we walked along the Philosopher’s Path and saw Honen-in temple and then went to a little cafe on the river for refreshments. Okay, yeah… beer.

Back at the ryokan we had some snacks and showers and then decided to see what was to be had for dinner. You know when there are too many options? Yeah, well that happened to us. we must have looked at ten different places before settling on one that I know we picked for two reasons: 1) Aesthetics – it was gorgeous and 2) Hypoglycemia – people were getting hungry. As is often the case, the food did not seem really “Japanese.” Like when people come to Hong Kong and want General’s Chicken and stuff. A lot of it was just sort of unfamiliar, but we went with it and the meal got progressively better. I would say it was fusion food except I hate that word, so we’ll just say it was “different.” But some stellar items, almond crusted shrimp, cabbage and pork rolls, and what was that one thing with the ginger sauce I wanted to drink? I cannot believe it escapes me now. Ah well… here’s the menu if you are curious. And you read Japanese. From Mimasuya we headed to a funny bar by the river and had a couple of drinks and called it a night. Lots of temples awaited us so we had to plan ahead.

My big decision the next day was to bike or not to bike. I opted not to bike. I wanted the freedom to get on a bus or in a taxi if I wanted to and I also wanted my hands to be free (didn’t want another camera casualty a la Burning Man.) I also wanted to see some museums and stuff, which Frenchie is not so into but J was down. So, coffeed up and ready to roll we had a plan to walk towards the Nishiki Food Market and the split up. We would meet by the apparently very elusive Heian Shrine and the handicraft center. All systems were go. except it was Monday and all the museums are dark on Mondays. Hm.

Okay, so photo opportunities and shopping. Could be worse ways to spend a morning. J and I saw lots of interesting and unusual things [except NO robots and I was on a real robot mission] and stumbled across some cool graveyards (at the mall) and temples (mall also.)

We ended up meeting Frenchie with perfect timing and that was pretty cool, especially because I was sure she was going to get lost, so either she did not get lost or she got lucky. Maybe some combination therein. But that was all sort of a moot point anyhow since we were going to endeavor to find the handicraft center and the Heian Shrine, which were, according to our maps, pretty much right where we were standing.

Only they weren’t.

After coffee and a bathroom break (I swear I had to pee more than a pregnant lady on this trip – perhaps it was the fact that there is a coffee shop on every corner… apparently the Japanese have a very big love for the caffeine) we headed to where we should have found the Handicraft Center. A giant 7-story building.  A very covert building. Or something. On our way we found the shrine. Took some photos and ooh’ed and ahh’ed appropriately. On leaving the “shrine” we remained confounded as to the location of said craft warehouse. And then, who should be the one to spot it? Our intrepid directionless Frenchie, who, it turns out, has a fantastic eye for buildings. after we did some shopping we decided that we would head to the other end of town to see Kiyomizu Temple, a favorite of many. It was up on a hill and Frenchie was riding her bike. J and I thought we might walk… but we all decided to check out another missing landmark on the way – the Okazaki Park. Seriously, it was like “Where’s Waldo.” We found the oldest martial arts center in Kyoto and more coffee shops. No park. No Shrine. And then – lo – We found the most ginormous shrine yet. Um, yeah, the Heian Shrine. Oh, and the park was there too. Again, gigantic. Our deductive locator devices were clearly a mess, how do you miss a building like this?

So, anyhow, market, shrine and park located (everyone can breathe easy now, they have not gone missing…) we headed to Kiyomizu. We made rendezvous plans and the lazy Americans jumped in a cab, the intrepid Frenchie pedaled off. needless to say, we never rendezvous’d. But the temple was gorgeous and J got her green tea ice cream and I got more coffee. And some Sanrio shit but still no robots. Back at the ryokan, Frenchie was still missing and so our little happy hour was minus one until – ta dah – she appeared! Late and happy… as usual. We compared notes on the day and laughed at all of our missteps and got ready to go out to eat. It was time for MEAT. Sukiyaki and shabu-shabu time! Junidanya Restaurant treated us so right. I may have eaten more at this dinner than I have in a single setting in a very long time. It was that good. I wish I had a photo of the giant glob of “fat” that was used to cook everything. Thinking about makes me a little queasy, but man it tasted good. We had a nice after dinner stroll with the intention being to do a little karaoke (not my intention whatsoever, but you know, one tries to play along.) The gods were smiling on me though as all were too full to be bothered with traipsing through the light rain to find karaoke… so we got desert and headed home to the coziness of the ryokan. Another day very well spent

My last full day in Kyoto began under grey skies, but we were undaunted and headed, by bus, to the Ryoanji Temple with it’s very famous Zen garden and then the Kinkakuji Temple… the big gold one… to start things off. The Ryoanji Temple is a lovely wood structure. The floors were one of my favorite parts; you go barefoot and as I was not wearing socks, I had the pleasure of the amazing wooden floors. I am not sure why I liked it so much, but it definitely makes me advocate even more for the “no shoes inside” philosophy. The garden (“of worldwide fame is said to have been laidout by Soami, a painter and gardener who died in 1525″ – according to the brochure) itself is 15 rocks and white sand. I have never really understood rock gardens. I mean, like I get that they are art and stuff, but I never really saw what the big deal was. But, as is often the case with stuff that has been around as long as Zen philosophy, there really is something to it. Being there you really just do feel totally… err, Zen. Plus the perfectly raked sand made my OCD-ness happy.

Soon we were heading to the Golden Pavillion. And golden it is. One of the primary motivations for this whole trip had been Frenchie’s desire to see the fall colors in Kyoto, her last visit having been during the sakura season. {Uh-huh, that is some Japanese I just thew down there and it means cherry blossom…) Unfortunately, because it is impossible to predict the formerly typical turns of season any more (of course global warming is only a theory) we were a bit to early for the fall colors and found a very verdant Kyoto on arrival. But here, at Kinkakuji, we found a lovely tree that had turned. Yes, that is singular, but it was a magnificent specimen.

And then of course there is the pavilion itself. I will let the photos speak for it save for the one comment that both my compadres said to me separately: “Wow, look at the rooster on the top!” I wonder if a phoenix would get annoyed at being called a rooster. Better than cock, I suppose.

I was still determined to see the museums – the Museum of Kyoto and the Kaleidoscope Museum – the former I had known about the latter was a J-mention and I was totally down for it. Frenchie was not so interested in the museums so we devised another meet-up plan. always a little risky, but hey, it seemed like a pretty user friendly place so we were down. We got off the bus and after a bit of directional confusion (not mine…) we ended up in a little coffee shop to lay out a plan. Frenchie would temple it up and shop, J and I would head to the museums. We would meet at a well known sushi spot at 3:30. Deal. Now was everyone sure that they would be able to find the restaurant? Yes, they were. Absolutely sure? Yes. Positive? Ok, yeah, can I have a map? And we were off.

The Museum of Kyoto is cool, but too much for us to have seen in such a short time. I love museum shops though and so I was thrilled to be ale to buy some way overpriced stuff there [no robot]. And when I say way, I mean, even for Japan. The funny thing about the cost of Japan, which is definitely worth mentioning, is that I was able to totally disregard it because of the exchange rate. I realize that sounds completely stupid and mathematically retarded, but it is like I have mentioned here before, somehow when you are paying 90,000 anything for a meal, it is sort of hard to really take seriously. (I have yet to look at my bank balance since returning so I may very well take it a whole lot more seriously soon.) Either way, Japan is expensive. But back to the museums… Lacking time to really check out the exhibits at the Museum of Kyoto, we headed to the Kaleidoscope Museum. Can I just say: Hell Yeah. This is a definite must see.

We made it to the sushi restaurant and did indulge. We shopped. [We found a shop full of robots and Ultraman, but they were hundreds of US dollars. For real. High quality to be sure, but still we are talking toys here. the Japanese take their robots quite seriously it turns out.] We contemplated lots of last minute arrangements. We took in a lot of Kyoto.

Japan was amazing. The place was actually simultaneously mental and serene. The people were also lovely; in aesthetics and demeanor. But there was something about Japan that I cannot totally put my finger on. It has nothing to do with the cost, as lots of people seem willing to suggest. Nor is it something insidious or weird. I have been looking for the words to articulate it all week and have come up short.

Walking through the streets of Kyoto, J said she could live there in a heart beat; though bear in mind she is currently residing in Delhi and I am of the opinion that if Delhi has a polar opposite it just may be Kyoto. Frenchie said she could totally live there because she has an ‘understanding’ with the people, which is her way of saying they get each other. Without doing what I always do and contradicting her, I have to say that I respectfully disagree (so, yeah, I am contradicting her.)

My feeling about Japan was that it was lonely. But I am not sure if that is the most precise word. in some ways it reminded me of how Ferris Bueller described Cameron’s house: “The place is like a museum. It’s very beautiful and very cold, and you’re not allowed to touch anything.” But I am kind of talking about the people not the place. Well, the place too. But then this makes it sound bad and it is far too pleasant to cast in that light, I mean I look forward to going back. I told Anna that she would love it because it is like a robot society by which I meant to indicate detachment far more than coldness or lack of passion. Japan does things all the way; they do not seem to be a “half-way” kind of place whether we are talking history, fashion, pop music, food, cartoons, partying, design… you name it. But there is a sense of detachment there that is really unique. Like a conscious and accepting recognition that there are insiders and outsiders and there is no judgement about that, it is just the way it is and how it will always be and so that is fine (the lack of English I am sure contributes to this, but that is not totally what I mean.) It strikes me as positively Vulcan. But I like Spock, so it’s cool.

Soon enough I was back at the Tokyu Inn in Osaka, wearing my house kimono, looking back on a busy four days and thinking, “A long weekend to check out Japan? Hell yeah, my life = pretty damn cool.” When I flew home the ground crew in Osaka waved and bowed at the plane as we headed out. And I had a moment to reflect and I thought: Yep, I’d do it again.

And that is always a good assessment, I think.

Have you always been itching to find out about certain travel experience that you’ve harbored venturing for one day in the future. These would commonly involve unique travel experiences to different cultures or environments. Take a the Ryokan, for example. For those less familiar, a Ryokan is a traditional Japanese Inn that is fashioned like a paper house (and somewhat feels like staying in one!), but promises a truly unique stay experience. Here’s a look at how one family with two young sons experienced it (as appeared in National Geographic’s Intelligent Traveler).

Three of our immersion into the world of Japanese culture brought us to Tokyo, the city that fueled my longing to return to this country after my first visit there some fifteen years ago. Since we had gotten acclimatized to city life from our time in Kyoto (not to mention Beijing and Shanghai the previous month), dealing with crowded train stations, especially the subway platforms of Shinjuku, which are the city’s busiest, didn’t faze us. Besides, the boys were too fixated on the various types of trains that shuttled us around the country to even notice.

So besides zipping around on the Japan Railways, we aimed to find some activities that would strike a balance between kid-friendly and culturally enriching. Sorry guys, we didn’t come all this way to go to Tokyo Disney!  Fortunately, this proved to be far less challenging than I originally thought because Tyler and Stefan were becoming fond of Japan. Furthermore, they enjoyed learning the basic phrases and didn’t seem bothered at all by the language barrier. This proved quite helpful as we headed out on our first day trip in Tokyo.

But while seeking cultural experiences, we had to admit that there’s only so much that will hold the interest of an eight- and eleven-year-old. If Carol and I had been here by ourselves, we surely would have attended the Kabuki Theatre to take in one of the oldest and most traditional Japanese art forms. Instead, we found ourselves in a place called Kidzania, a child-sized replica of a real city that enables kids to learn about the adult world, and the value of money and work, by experiencing various professions. So what could possibly be so culturally relevant about that?  For starters, I must admit that I was growing rather fatigued from continuously asking the kids to mind their manners since we arrived in Japan. After all, this is a country that from early childhood emphasizes discipline and restraint, and nowhere was this more evident than in a children’s entertainment center. With all due respect to American families back home, Kidzania confirmed that the Japanese by-and-large have their children under control and very well behaved, which only added to my anxiety of scrutinizing our children’s every move. Nevertheless, Carol and I were amazed at how well they adapted to the culture. Kids are certainly known for their resilience, but I never would have imagined that they both would be eating several varieties of raw fish, pickled vegetables, soups and noodle dishes by the time we left. Stefan has even gone so far as to say he’d rather eat a meal with chopsticks than a knife and fork.  And Tyler was completely serious when he requested a heated toilet seat for his next birthday.

Inspiration: National Geographic’s Intelligent Travel

Ryokan, seorang guru Zen, hidup sangat sederhana di sebuah pondok kecil di kaki sebuah gunung. Suatu petang, seorang pencuri mendatangi pondok itu hanya untuk menemukan tak ada apa pun di situ yang dapat dicuri.

Ryokan pulang dan memergoki. “Engkau mungkin sudah berjalan jauh untuk mengunjungiku,” katanya kepada pencuri itu, “dan Engkau tidak semestinya kembali dengan tangan kosong. Ambillah pakaianku sebagai hadiah.”

Pencuri itu kebingungan. Ia mengambil pakaian itu dan menyelonong pergi.

Ryokan duduk telanjang, memperhatikan bulan. “Teman yang miskin,” ia termenung, “aku mengharap bisa memberinya bulan yang indah ini.”

(dikutip dari buku “Menghidupkan Kebenaran Kita”, Penerbit Karaniya)

El Sensei Jaime Ortega (Coordinador de la Zona Centro-Golfo) ha publicado, en su nuevo sitio, fotos del Entrenamiento Regional que se llevó a cabo el pasado domingo en la ciudad de Xalapa con los diferentes dojos de la región. Asimismo, se llevaron a cabo evaluaciones de kyu. La fotos se pueden consultar aquí.

El Sensei Jaime Ortega (Coordinador Zona Centro Sur-México) informa que ha migrado su sitio web anterior a una nueva ubicación. El sitio nuevo incluye información de dojos asociados, fotografías de eventos y vínculos a otros sitios de JKS y de artes marciales.

No olviden actualizar sus vínculos para que puedan acceder al sitio sin problemas.

How is my karma related to the brush and inkstone?

Over and over I write and write.

The only one who really knows the reason

Is the Great Hero Buddha.

The wind has settled, the blossoms have fallen;

Birds sing, the mountains grow dark–

This is the wondrous power of Buddhism.

My legacy–

What will it be?

Flowers in spring,

The cuckoo in summer,

And the crimson maples

of autumn….

Three poems from Ryokan, translated by John Stevens.

It feels so good to be able to say that!!  I finally got the top made for my pajama design. I now have one set of Small/Medium size pajamas (^^)v.  They are not as see through as I thought- only a little bit.  The next order of business is to decide on a design and create some applique bits, and figure out the best way to attach them.  This portion- the embellishing- will be done completely by hand. That might take awhile. See, up until now, I was taking a little long to get by pajama design out. Now I have it and even though I need to create a Medium/Large pattern, that shouldn’t take nearly as long as me figuring out the design itself. Once I have my patterns ready to go, it’s just a matter of getting a creative rhythm going to assemble. According to my scientific calculations, I should be able to turn out 2 sets of pajamas a week. (Um, maybe I can tout exclusivity and limited quantities- hey, works for Hermes!)

In other news, I spent the last evening on a mini-vacation with Yo. We drove through the countryside in Chiba, and spent the afternoon at Kamogawa Seaworld Aquarium on the Pacific seaside. The aquariums were fabulous- We had the privilege of seeing (and not touching although there was no glass or anything stopping our hands) a dozen baby sea turtles swimming around in a little terrarium set up. There was also a big, ugly, hydrodynamically unlikely fish (“manbo” in Japaneses, “Sunfish” in English) bumping around a rather dull and otherwise empty small tank. We enjoyed a dolphin show and an orca show.  Actually its hard for me to watch these shows the last couple of times I’ve been to an aquarium: I nearly come to tears, because the tanks are so small and made to seem even smaller by the back drop of Pacific Ocean, not even 30 meters away! This is compounded by the YouTube videos I have seen of the way dolphins are captured in the Japanese town of Taiji. Its rather horrifying. Some are sold to aquariums like the ones I have visited, but most are “culled” (killed to keep them from competing with fisherman for fish)- either way, once they are corralled in The Cove, they are done with the sea.

Anyway, after the drizzly afternoon in Kamogawa, we backtracked to Kisarazu on the Tokyo Bay side of Chiba where our ryokan (boutique hotel) was. We found it on the internet, it had some cool looking rooms with private hot spring tubs (not hot tubs) and a great 10 course dinner package. Each course was quite small but nevertheless I thought I would explode by the time we finished. We enjoyed that in a private room as well. Many ryokans serve dinners in the rooms, but this one did not and thats just as well- the table in our room was low to the floor in the traditional Japanese style, and the dining room had fine old high backed chairs at a proper western table. I could never eat so much on the floor.  We enjoyed some of the shared access baths on the roof, but mostly stayed in our suite where a shower room doubled as a window to the patio which held a garden table and chairs next to the spring tub. We soaked in that as it continued to drizzle rain, the garden lit up very nicely.  The whole room was an expert combination of East and West, very Meiji (Japanese Victorian) style.  Just the right mix of old and new too! And the toilet set had automatic everything- lid up when you entered the closet, down when you left, flush, heated seat, bidet with a dryer…  Very wow.  This hotel even had free DVD borrowing- very thematic here! All they had were black and white Hollywood classics! We watched Treasure Island and Roman Holiday.  When we entered the room it has wonderful relaxing classical music already going.  Anyway.  That represents our last vacation until next summer when we hope to go to Hokkaido to see Yo’s family.

(This post died, somehow. Mercury retrograde strikes again! That, or too much fiddling on my part . . . thank goodness for saved revisions.)

Blogging with a slight stomach-ache, today. I didn’t exactly want to get out of bed, but I’m determined to be productive, anyway.

The weird dreams keep coming; this time, I was writing a novel and working at a women’s shelter with Nakedjen. (Can men even do that?)

Maybe it’s the universe’s way of nudging me in the right direction. For what it’s worth, the blog has really helped me get the creative juices flowing, even though it’s not very old, yet. The time to sit and let life pass me by is over. If for no other reason than to avoid being boring, I’ve started thinking of things to write about (for fun) for the first time since I was in middle school. I love clichés, sometimes, so it feels like a whole new world is waiting to be explored.

With that in mind, I’ve started to cross things off my to-do list. I’ve realized that I’m capable of being happy wherever I am, but there’s nothing wrong with going for something just because you want it. I plan on living a long life, but, in the grand scheme of things, our lives are still short.

A late birthday-gift came in the mail, today (Dewdrops on a Lotus Leaf, a collection of poems by the 18th-century Zen monk Ryōkan), and I wanted to share one of my favourites with you. I hope you love it as much as I do:

How can I possibly sleep
This moonlit evening?
Come, my friends,
Let’s sing and dance
All night long.

Stretched out,
Tipsy*,
Under the vast sky:
Splendid dreams
Beneath the cherry blossoms.

Wild roses,
Plucked from fields,
Full of croaking frogs:
Float them in your wine**
And enjoy every minute!

* Ryōkan liked to drink and have sex—but, hey . . . our humanity is just as beautiful as anything else (especially because it’s impermanent).

** While you’re dancing and singing, make sure you put the roses in your wine, and not the frogs. They might be upset.