Kyoto Song
Day 7 - Another day sans styxonline. But once again, she got me to the right place. I, on the other hand, got myself lost, but more on that later.
Had to take the train (bless that Yamanote line!) from Shibuya to Tokyo Station, where I boarded the Shinkansen’s Hikari train for Kyoto. Almost sat in the smoking car (there’s always one, a fact I was unaware of until that moment), but soon got myself into a nice, non-polluted car. Some guy was reading manga in the seat next to me. Don’t know which titles they were. A girl on the other side of me was reading a fashion magazine & listening to an Ipod. It’s almost amazing how people kind of avoid each other, so consumed are they on buses or trains by things like reading manga or small books, listening to things, or clicking away at games or Internet on their cell phones. Whenever I traveled with styxonline, it was the two of us, yaking it up.
Earlier that day, a guy staying at my ryokan was walking with me briefly to the bus stop. I was catching the bus to Shibuya Station, though he was planning to walk there. The wild thing was, he asked me, “How long have you lived here?” Made me feel pretty darn good.
Oh yeah - looking at the photo of the cross on my purse that morning reminded me that Mana-sama had a nice cross necklace on at the concert the night before.
On the Shinkansen, we made a few stops before reaching Kyoto, where I would get off (the train was bound for Osaka). One of the stops was Nagoya. Always makes me think of something they keep saying to the main character in Takashi Miike’s GOZU: “You’re not from Nagoya, are you?” My grandpa & I used to get a kick out of that.
Got lost in Kyoto! Would’ve done some shopping in the mall on the other side of the train station, but went the wrong way & ended up yonks from where I was supposed to be. Why are the pick-up points for these tours at hotels nobody can actually find? Maybe it’s just my screwed-up sense of direction (or, rather, lack of directional sense of any kind). Probably looked like a hopeless idiot. Certainly felt like one. Finally asked a policeman (at least, that’s what I think he was), who pointed me in the right direction.
Kyoto is really nice. Pretty. Old. Historic. They said sometimes you can see Geisha or Maiko walking the streets, but we didn’t see any. Went to beautiful places, peaceful places, awe-inspiring places. I hoped I could take some of that profound, tranquil beauty home with me, that serenity. Saw the Heian Shrine (so lovely, esp. the gardens & the little bridge on the water), the Sanjusangen-do Temple (a very humbling place where they have the famous thousand statues of the Kannon Buddha), & the Kiyomizu Temple (which is absolutely gorgeous, situated at the edge of a cliff, a wooded hillside on one side, a panoramic view of the city of Kyoto on the other).
Our tour guide, Hiro, was from Kobe. I prayed at the shrine & temples. Got lots of photos (except in the very, very sacred spaces, where I wouldn’t or you weren’t allowed to photograph), but only one souvenir. Wanted a Han’ya, but couldn’t find any small ones. There was a ’bishi shop’ on the street leading up to Kiyomizu (the only place where we really had any time for shopping), which I thought might have been showcasing artists from the Kansai region (Osaka, Kyoto, & the like), as it had Diru & L’Arc photos on their outside board, though I only saw a tiny bit of L’Arc inside (they were playing L’Arc’s “And She Said” while I was in there, though). The souvenir I bought was a small fan, since they’re different from the Tokyo style (I’d gotten one in Shinjuku at the Gov’t. Bldg.), Kyoto’s being more traditional-looking, like the paintings you sometimes see in books, of Kabuki plays or Samurai.
My purchase was also something of a form of atonement, to appease the spirits of the place. I was terrified that I’d offended them. Certainly didn’t mean any harm, I’d only wanted a photo of a statue* outside the shop, but the woman asked me not to take one. She seemed a little frightened. It was the only time during my whole stay in Japan (including the night that I got upset about not surmounting the language barrier) that I’d actually felt foreign.
I wrote in my notes that evening that I could’ve done more in Kyoto (more of what, I don’t know) if it weren’t such a novelty, something so new I had to take mass amounts of photographs of in order to preserve the moment. My memory isn’t so good these days, & I don’t want to forget anything as wonderful as those places in Japan that I have seen & experienced.
I suppose my penitence worked, though, because I got into conversation with some nice people (as opposed to what could have happened, considering I kept losing the group & feared getting stranded). First was an older British couple. The guy asked me where I was from & when I said, “New Jersey,” he said, “From Newark?” I told him Newark was a bit north of me. He said he’d worked for the company that had put in or developed the scheduling or some such mechanisms for New Jersey Transit. (That’s the rail system I take to go to NYC.) At one point, in the temple (Kiyomizu), we’d watched people trying to lift this really big, heavy staff, the kind with the rings on it, like the Mad Monk in VERSUS or Miroku from “Inu-Yasha” carried. Naturally, nobody could do it. The guy turns to me & tries to encourage me to give it a go. I quipped that I’d only be able to do it if I were from Newark. “They do make them tougher there, don’t they?” he laughed.
Later on, the lady asked me, “Are you by any chance [called] Goth?” I said yes, excitedly, though I wondered how older people keep finding out about Goths (I’d once been asked the same question by an older check-out lady in our local supermarket). These people explained that they lived near Whitby, which has connections to Dracula, so all the Goths hang out there.
The guy said I didn’t seem as extreme as the Whitby Goths, to which I said, “You didn’t see me last night,” having previously mentioned, in the course of our conversation, that I’d been to a Japanese Goth show. They didn’t know the Japanese had any Goths. I said they do, but they’re usually referred to as Visual Kei (forgot all about the Gothic Lolita faction - DUH!), & they are fantastic! We talked about other places we’d seen & things we’d done in Japan, & I mentioned I had a native, resident friend showing me about. “Is she Goth, too?” he asked. “No,” I said, “but she was with me last night!” ^_^
The guy made a joke later, going back to the vampire connection, & said, “Well, you don’t have any marks on your neck.” (Of course, he wouldn’t have been able to see them even if I did, ‘cuz I was wearing my qipao.) I joked & said I would have to check, then said who knows - maybe I’m the one who MAKES the marks. Wonder if I frightened him, ha ha. Nah, he was a nice old gent.
Later on, got to talking with a woman from Auckland, New Zealand. She told me her name but I couldn’t remember it long enough to jot it down in my notes. She’s a teacher & is very into trees. She said they trim the willows a bit in Japan (styxonline told me later about the tradition of the gardeners there), which takes away some of their energy. I’ve always loved willows. She said they’re good for grounding.
Sat next to yet another guy reading manga on the Shinkansen coming back. On the other side of me was a woman whose case kept rolling in my direction whenever the train turned a bit. I’d catch it for her, she’d thank me & apologise. I told her it was fine. Think I slept a little.
Whilst hurtling toward Tokyo, I wrote that I hoped Kyoto wouldn’t leave a lasting impression of regret with me because of that stupid little photo incident. While the place itself feels historic, antiquated, more in keeping with tradition (they even put a limit on how tall the buildings can be, ‘cuz they don’t want any huge skyscrapers), there is also a nervous energy to the place, or should I say, to the people. They don’t come off as unwelcoming so much as uneasy, hesitant. There is an air of knowing the need for ignorant, baka, gaijin tourists (like myself) to be catered to in order to help ensure ongoing financial stability, but this lends itself to cheapening the point of the place. So the atmosphere’s a little sad, a little uptight. (I’d had these thoughts phrased better in my head, but that’s how I put it all down in my notes.) Tokyo, on the other hand, seems less reluctant, almost eager to throw itself out there. I wrote that I’d like to see Osaka. I bet it has an altogether different kind of energy.
Thought to myself that there were two great achievements to the day: 1) that I did it, & by myself, no less, & 2) that (unlike my embarrassing little Jingu moment) I didn’t trip.
Got some dinner at the konbeni - lotus root salad & mikan (Mandarin orange) juice, & a chocolate/vanilla parfait. Fell asleep in front of the tv & woke up at 4:30 am. Started to pack. Catalogued my purchases - knew I’d have to declare them on the way home.
Wrote some notes:
Want to ensure (or, if I can’t, at least HOPE) the place, the land, the nation’s spirit(s), likes me. Don’t want to have offended or disrespected it. I have tried to exist here according to its inherent nature & its rules. Don’t want to be a crummy tourist type. That’s not what I came here for. This place is saving my soul. It’s only right that I honour it.
And later:
Still hoping the place likes me. Don’t want to leave it on a sad note...I just want this place to know how much goodness it’s given me, & how grateful I am for it.
Next time: Day 8 - Redemption at Aoyama, Tokyo Tower, Sumo, & Cosplay!!
*EDIT: Many moons later, I discovered the statue depicted a tanuki. I already knew about the animal, but at the time of my trip, I wasn’t aware of its place in Japanese folklore.
Had to take the train (bless that Yamanote line!) from Shibuya to Tokyo Station, where I boarded the Shinkansen’s Hikari train for Kyoto. Almost sat in the smoking car (there’s always one, a fact I was unaware of until that moment), but soon got myself into a nice, non-polluted car. Some guy was reading manga in the seat next to me. Don’t know which titles they were. A girl on the other side of me was reading a fashion magazine & listening to an Ipod. It’s almost amazing how people kind of avoid each other, so consumed are they on buses or trains by things like reading manga or small books, listening to things, or clicking away at games or Internet on their cell phones. Whenever I traveled with styxonline, it was the two of us, yaking it up.
Earlier that day, a guy staying at my ryokan was walking with me briefly to the bus stop. I was catching the bus to Shibuya Station, though he was planning to walk there. The wild thing was, he asked me, “How long have you lived here?” Made me feel pretty darn good.
Oh yeah - looking at the photo of the cross on my purse that morning reminded me that Mana-sama had a nice cross necklace on at the concert the night before.
On the Shinkansen, we made a few stops before reaching Kyoto, where I would get off (the train was bound for Osaka). One of the stops was Nagoya. Always makes me think of something they keep saying to the main character in Takashi Miike’s GOZU: “You’re not from Nagoya, are you?” My grandpa & I used to get a kick out of that.
Got lost in Kyoto! Would’ve done some shopping in the mall on the other side of the train station, but went the wrong way & ended up yonks from where I was supposed to be. Why are the pick-up points for these tours at hotels nobody can actually find? Maybe it’s just my screwed-up sense of direction (or, rather, lack of directional sense of any kind). Probably looked like a hopeless idiot. Certainly felt like one. Finally asked a policeman (at least, that’s what I think he was), who pointed me in the right direction.
Kyoto is really nice. Pretty. Old. Historic. They said sometimes you can see Geisha or Maiko walking the streets, but we didn’t see any. Went to beautiful places, peaceful places, awe-inspiring places. I hoped I could take some of that profound, tranquil beauty home with me, that serenity. Saw the Heian Shrine (so lovely, esp. the gardens & the little bridge on the water), the Sanjusangen-do Temple (a very humbling place where they have the famous thousand statues of the Kannon Buddha), & the Kiyomizu Temple (which is absolutely gorgeous, situated at the edge of a cliff, a wooded hillside on one side, a panoramic view of the city of Kyoto on the other).
Our tour guide, Hiro, was from Kobe. I prayed at the shrine & temples. Got lots of photos (except in the very, very sacred spaces, where I wouldn’t or you weren’t allowed to photograph), but only one souvenir. Wanted a Han’ya, but couldn’t find any small ones. There was a ’bishi shop’ on the street leading up to Kiyomizu (the only place where we really had any time for shopping), which I thought might have been showcasing artists from the Kansai region (Osaka, Kyoto, & the like), as it had Diru & L’Arc photos on their outside board, though I only saw a tiny bit of L’Arc inside (they were playing L’Arc’s “And She Said” while I was in there, though). The souvenir I bought was a small fan, since they’re different from the Tokyo style (I’d gotten one in Shinjuku at the Gov’t. Bldg.), Kyoto’s being more traditional-looking, like the paintings you sometimes see in books, of Kabuki plays or Samurai.
My purchase was also something of a form of atonement, to appease the spirits of the place. I was terrified that I’d offended them. Certainly didn’t mean any harm, I’d only wanted a photo of a statue* outside the shop, but the woman asked me not to take one. She seemed a little frightened. It was the only time during my whole stay in Japan (including the night that I got upset about not surmounting the language barrier) that I’d actually felt foreign.
I wrote in my notes that evening that I could’ve done more in Kyoto (more of what, I don’t know) if it weren’t such a novelty, something so new I had to take mass amounts of photographs of in order to preserve the moment. My memory isn’t so good these days, & I don’t want to forget anything as wonderful as those places in Japan that I have seen & experienced.
I suppose my penitence worked, though, because I got into conversation with some nice people (as opposed to what could have happened, considering I kept losing the group & feared getting stranded). First was an older British couple. The guy asked me where I was from & when I said, “New Jersey,” he said, “From Newark?” I told him Newark was a bit north of me. He said he’d worked for the company that had put in or developed the scheduling or some such mechanisms for New Jersey Transit. (That’s the rail system I take to go to NYC.) At one point, in the temple (Kiyomizu), we’d watched people trying to lift this really big, heavy staff, the kind with the rings on it, like the Mad Monk in VERSUS or Miroku from “Inu-Yasha” carried. Naturally, nobody could do it. The guy turns to me & tries to encourage me to give it a go. I quipped that I’d only be able to do it if I were from Newark. “They do make them tougher there, don’t they?” he laughed.
Later on, the lady asked me, “Are you by any chance [called] Goth?” I said yes, excitedly, though I wondered how older people keep finding out about Goths (I’d once been asked the same question by an older check-out lady in our local supermarket). These people explained that they lived near Whitby, which has connections to Dracula, so all the Goths hang out there.
The guy said I didn’t seem as extreme as the Whitby Goths, to which I said, “You didn’t see me last night,” having previously mentioned, in the course of our conversation, that I’d been to a Japanese Goth show. They didn’t know the Japanese had any Goths. I said they do, but they’re usually referred to as Visual Kei (forgot all about the Gothic Lolita faction - DUH!), & they are fantastic! We talked about other places we’d seen & things we’d done in Japan, & I mentioned I had a native, resident friend showing me about. “Is she Goth, too?” he asked. “No,” I said, “but she was with me last night!” ^_^
The guy made a joke later, going back to the vampire connection, & said, “Well, you don’t have any marks on your neck.” (Of course, he wouldn’t have been able to see them even if I did, ‘cuz I was wearing my qipao.) I joked & said I would have to check, then said who knows - maybe I’m the one who MAKES the marks. Wonder if I frightened him, ha ha. Nah, he was a nice old gent.
Later on, got to talking with a woman from Auckland, New Zealand. She told me her name but I couldn’t remember it long enough to jot it down in my notes. She’s a teacher & is very into trees. She said they trim the willows a bit in Japan (styxonline told me later about the tradition of the gardeners there), which takes away some of their energy. I’ve always loved willows. She said they’re good for grounding.
Sat next to yet another guy reading manga on the Shinkansen coming back. On the other side of me was a woman whose case kept rolling in my direction whenever the train turned a bit. I’d catch it for her, she’d thank me & apologise. I told her it was fine. Think I slept a little.
Whilst hurtling toward Tokyo, I wrote that I hoped Kyoto wouldn’t leave a lasting impression of regret with me because of that stupid little photo incident. While the place itself feels historic, antiquated, more in keeping with tradition (they even put a limit on how tall the buildings can be, ‘cuz they don’t want any huge skyscrapers), there is also a nervous energy to the place, or should I say, to the people. They don’t come off as unwelcoming so much as uneasy, hesitant. There is an air of knowing the need for ignorant, baka, gaijin tourists (like myself) to be catered to in order to help ensure ongoing financial stability, but this lends itself to cheapening the point of the place. So the atmosphere’s a little sad, a little uptight. (I’d had these thoughts phrased better in my head, but that’s how I put it all down in my notes.) Tokyo, on the other hand, seems less reluctant, almost eager to throw itself out there. I wrote that I’d like to see Osaka. I bet it has an altogether different kind of energy.
Thought to myself that there were two great achievements to the day: 1) that I did it, & by myself, no less, & 2) that (unlike my embarrassing little Jingu moment) I didn’t trip.
Got some dinner at the konbeni - lotus root salad & mikan (Mandarin orange) juice, & a chocolate/vanilla parfait. Fell asleep in front of the tv & woke up at 4:30 am. Started to pack. Catalogued my purchases - knew I’d have to declare them on the way home.
Wrote some notes:
Want to ensure (or, if I can’t, at least HOPE) the place, the land, the nation’s spirit(s), likes me. Don’t want to have offended or disrespected it. I have tried to exist here according to its inherent nature & its rules. Don’t want to be a crummy tourist type. That’s not what I came here for. This place is saving my soul. It’s only right that I honour it.
And later:
Still hoping the place likes me. Don’t want to leave it on a sad note...I just want this place to know how much goodness it’s given me, & how grateful I am for it.
Next time: Day 8 - Redemption at Aoyama, Tokyo Tower, Sumo, & Cosplay!!
*EDIT: Many moons later, I discovered the statue depicted a tanuki. I already knew about the animal, but at the time of my trip, I wasn’t aware of its place in Japanese folklore.
