Kyoto Day 2

I wake late -8:30 am. A group of us decide to go shopping and after some amount of scanning the transit map we figure out how to get there. The Kyoto Handicraft Center is designed with tourists in mind. Shops full of souvenirs and a western style buffet restaurant. It’s not as classy as the real shopping malls I’ve seen so far. I thought Americans were conspicuous consumers but the Japanese put us to shame. Especially the towering, massive eleven story mall we go to for dinner.

Anyway I get some presents and pass up a silk kimono for a cheaper cotton one. ( When I get home I discover it doesn’t reach around my fat gut as it’s designed for skinny Japanese). I keep looking for the one thing I really, really want while in Japan. A sword.

At lunch fellow traveler Nancy tells me how Ken got his sword. Ken and Scott, her hubby, were looking for a sword in a shop but the salesman looked bored with the obviously ignorant gaijin shoppers. Nancy was annoyed by his attitude and gently leans over to inform him that these two men have black belts in Aikido. Now it is unusual for adults to train in martial arts in Japan, surprisingly enough, so this gets his attention and he starts giving them the ninety degree deep bow reserved for those who deserve great respect. He brings out more swords and leaves them alone while they test them out.

Damn I wish I’d seen that. When we go into a nearby sword shop and I ask to see one on sale. Nancy pulls this stunt again because she loves messing with peoples heads, bless her heart, and calls me sensei ( again, an unusual term of respect in Japan)while I’m shown the sword. The salesman has a puzzled look on his face seeing a short fat blonde woman referred to this way.

I decide against the purchase and immediately regret it. Thereafter whenever I see a sword I feel intent longing but they are just too expensive for this poor artist. Just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes.

We return to the hotel where I ask two other fellow tour members where they are going. They found a paper shop. I LOVE paper. It’s the one other thing on my “must get” list . We set out in a brief but intense downpour, the only rain we encounter on the trip. I discover my crocs are very slippery on the wet pavement. I nearly fall several times but I’m steadied by kind Japanese in what looks like a comedy routine. All my disappointment about the sword vanishes as I enter the store and I am in heaven. I show remarkable restraint, buying only $38 worth of lovely paper.

Laughter is the best medicine

I've suffer from chronic depression all my life, I’m not looking for sympathy, (though it’s gladly accepted) but there it is. It’s a drag but I get over it eventually. I don’t use fancy, expensive questionable psycho-tropic drugs oh no- I have something far more effective and potent.

Laughter.

When I’m feeling blue I check out comic book collections. Foxtort, Calvin and Hobbes, The Far Side and the classic Peanuts. The New Yorker cartoons are always good. I watch old episodes of Monty Python and Mystery Science Theater. I read James Thurber, Douglas Adams and Fran Lebowitz. Comedy is the cure for what ails you.

Laughter, as Twain noted, is a great weapon against tragedy and boy did he know tragedy. Most comedians and comedy comes from a place of misery, poverty or dysfunctional families. I had a lonely, disruptive childhood but I had a sense of humor to keep me sane. Humor is a way to deflect the horrors of life and remind us to keep things in perspective.

James Callahan draws cartoons that are both hilarious and frequently offensive but always dead on. His pitch black humor is born of surviving alcoholism and being quadriplegic after a drunk driving accident. Great comedy material.

Humor is not just a way to make people laugh, it’s survival therapy. Scientists can explain how laughing releases endorphins, helps with relaxation, even cure illness, but you don’t need them to tell you how good it feels to watch someone do a pratfall or say something stupid in public. That’s what we have politicians for.

Observing the absurdity of life or trading wit among friends is a tonic that wards off the darkness that threatens to drown me. I need to laugh, we all need to laugh. Laughter is the best medicine.

Kyoto Day 1

While in Kyoto for two days- in no particular order -we see five temples, visit the graves of a famous group of samurai and my period arrives to spoil the fun. And who thought it would be a good idea to see 5 temples in one day? They all blur together after a while.

The famous Golden Pavilion was a bit of a disappointment. It looked kind of -small. Without the gold leaf covering the top two stories it would be completely unimpressive. Even stranger- it’s not an old building. The original was burned down in 1950 by a deranged monk. The Japanese value the past so much they rebuilt it exactly the way it was- a retirement home for a shogun then a temple. I can’t think of any monument in a America that was destroyed then rebuilt to such exacting detail.

I wish I paid more attention to the shrine of the 47 samurai-probably one of the most familiar stories in Japan, an example of samurai loyalty and honor. The story is pretty straight forward. Lord Asano was being instructed in court protocol by Lord Kira, who was greedy, arrogant and thoroughly disliked. Kira went out of his way to goad his younger charge until Asano had it and drew his sword whacking Kira on the head. He wasn’t killed alas, but drawing a sword in the Imperial palace is a capital no-no so Asano lost his title, land all his assets and had to commit suicide.* Kira walked away unpunished, with a smirk on his face, no doubt.

Asano’s chamberlain and top samurai Oishi decided revenge was in order. Since Kira was expecting this (gosh what a surprise) Oishi and the other samurai bided their time. They spent a year and half making everyone think they didn’t care. They partied, they took jobs-which was unheard of for a samurai, they simply didn’t DO that, some even divorced their wives. (This was a ploy so the family would not be disgraced or lose any assets when the revenge was played out).

On December 15, 1703 Kira let down his guard the boys arrived at his house for payback where they found him hiding in a grain shed. After they loped his head off, they marched to Asano’s grave where they left it as an offering. Of course they ended up having to kill themselves too but they knew that from the beginning. All very chivalrous, romantic and thoroughly Japanese. There is an excellent version of these events in the 1962 film “Chushingura” and a kabuki play by the same name.

We moved on to Nijo Castle, which I really enjoyed.We go through the main palace with it’s elaborately painted doors and ceilings and I absorb as much of the sight as I can, since no cameras are allowed. As we walk along the “Nightingale floors” they make a curious squeaking sound, like birds chirping. They were designed so that no one could sneak into the palace to assassinate the shogun. After listening to that racket all day I’m sure the residents were ready to kill someone.

I was awed by the age and beauty of the place. The idea that the most powerful people in Japan walked these same floors for hundreds of years blew me away. This very room is where the Shogun, the military ruler for 250 years, in 1867 abdicated his power-returning sovereignty to the Emperor, just like that without a big war- is heady stuff.

Our last stop is the Heian shrine, which I skip because I’m tired and cranky from my period. I hang out near the bus and have to visit the bathroom-again. I encounter the dreaded Japanese style trough toilet. This is an experience to be missed. I consider the western toilet the height of civilization.

Tomorrow we are on our own. No free breakfast or lunch. Just a bunch of gaijin’s let loose in Kyoto.

*The proper term is seppuku but most know it by the vulgar term hari-kiri, literally cut the gut.

How Do You Hide a 12,000 Foot Mountain?

I don’t believe Mt. Fuji exists. I never saw when I was in Japan. I had three, count them three opportunities to see the famous majestic peak and got nada, zip, zilch.

We traveled on the Shinkensen, the bullet train, from Tokyo to Osaka which passes right by Fuji. On that day it was a heavy overcast. I figured we might see it on the way back a week later when it clears.

We take a day trip to Hakone to the top of a peak where volcanic vents spew their sulfuric gases into the air- amid dense fog. Oh crap.

There is a large signboard in the parking lot identifying the sights you can see on a clear day, including that big pointy mountain. Everyone takes pictures of the sign instead. Maybe the fog will clear when we get to Lake Asahi down below. We’ll glide along on a boat like the one in the brochure where you can clearly see Fuji in the background. The fog is so fucking thick the pilot has to rely on sonar to find his way back to shore. As a consolation prize our guide Akiko teaches us how to make a lovely little Mt. Fuji with origami paper.

When I get to Tokyo days later it is finally clear. Great! I go to the top of a 60 story building and I hate heights but this is worth it. It offers a clear view of the city and surroundings. Well about as clear a view as smoggy, humidity laden Tokyo gets in summer. In other words the air is chunky style and not giving up much of a view of anything. There is an obviously altered photograph “claiming” to show the mountain but at this point I have come to the conclusion Fuji San is a nothing but an elaborate hoax perpetrated by the Japanese.

Nara- Where the temples are very big and old

Rememer Osaka and how hot I thought it was? Well Michi informs us it was the hottest day of the year so far. Lucky us and today is going to be as hot.

Today it’s Todaiji Temple. The largest wooden structure containing one very big Buddha. I don’t if it was the bells ringing or the solemnity of the place, the energy or what but I found myself overwhelmed by the sight and had to wipe away tears streaming down my face. I was very verklempt.

Nara park is occupied by hundreds of tame deer who are normally docile until you feed them with deer cookies, then they are pushy and aggressive. I wisely chose not to feed them.

The real stunner was another temple in the park Hokke-do built in 740 AD. That is not a typo and I just couldn’t wrap my head around something being that old and still standing. The statues in the prayer hall are national treasures. No cameras and no shoes allowed.

There was a wide bench covered with tatami and I sit seiza next to a Japanese woman deep in reflection. I am moved by her and the atmosphere of the quiet hall. While she prays, she retrieves a small red box from her purse, looks at it briefly then puts it back with significance. I follow along as she puts her hands together in prayer. As she gets up she gives me a small bow of acknowledgement or thanks- I’m not sure which, and is gone.

Jeeze what’s with all this emotionalism? It must be PMS. My period is due to come and spoil a vacation-again.

Osaka

"I Hate Osaka Castle"

We are out of the headquarters in Tochigi by 7:30 am. We take the train to Tokyo and transfer to the shikensen ( the bullet train dontcha know) going through the Tokyo station to our connection almost as fast as the train. Thank God for the guide , we would have never maneuvered the sea of people . I felt like a fish swimming up stream to spawn. After a three hour trip we arrive in Osaka at the south end of Kyushu about 300 miles away.

Do we take a breather and check into the hotel? No, we plunge right into the tour. The group of sixty is split into bus no. 1 and 2. Our guides are an exacting woman I call the general and on bus no. 2 an enthusiastic man in his 60’s named Michi, who talks a great deal in delightfully mangled English. I like him immediately.

We are off to Osaka castle built in 1568 by Toyomi Hideyoshi, who is credited with unifying a warring country. Great stuff, the massive walls and entrance gates are impressive. The castle is located on the highest point in the city offering a great view but alas, while the outside has a classic look the interior is a modern museum complete with elevator.

Wandering the park, I decide to get a coke from the ubiquitous vending machines. A woman and her two small kids dawdle at the machine. I’m tired from traveling, hot , hungry and cranky- not a good combination. In a fit of impatience and increasing annoyance I go in search of another one and promptly get lost.

Now let me state for the record I NEVER get lost. You can blindfold me, drop in the middle of a forest and unlike the idiots in “The Blair Witch Project” I can find my way out with breaking a sweat.

I look around and don’t see anyone from the group and break into a sweat ( it was 90 degrees with 60% humidity). Ok no problem when all else fails go back to the bus in the parking lot and wait . I manage to find the way back only to find - no bus. Oh shit. I am in a strange country, I don’t know the language, or the name of the hotel we’re staying at and have no money in my pocket.

Oh shit, shit, shit. Hey let’s have the fear of abandonment join in the meltdown shall we? Fortunately a nearby cabbie comes to my rescue and with his extremely limited English and my extremely limited Japanese, he manages to coax me into the cab and drives me to the other side of the park where, lo and behold the tour bus is parked. He has a quick conversation with the other tour guide but all I want to do is get on the bus and calm down.

Later I learn he remembered me from the group and figured out what was happening. How did he remember me? I suppose it would be hard to forget the blonde gaijin who looks like a miniature sumo wrestler.

When the rest of the group arrives from their lovely tour I am too mortified to look anyone in the eye. It’s obvious this has caused concern but our guide Michi saves my ass by explaining to the gang this is not the first time someone has wandered off. After that everyone keeps a close watch on me and I stay close to the group. Not a good way to start a tour.

Ironically once we get settled at the hotel, I to go in search of batteries for my camera and manage to find a large department store a few blocks away by passing through a busy subway station and around a construction site with no problem.

Go figure.

My traveling companion

Introducing Moose


My friend Kerry has this cute little finger puppet of a bunny she calls Foo who appears in many installments of her blog ( Kerry’s, not the bunny’s). Normally I find cute little sidekicks, annoying and childish but there’s something about Foo and her Mama I find appealing. Sort of like the traveling gnome.

I lamented to Kerry my lack of traveling buddy- along with my lack of traveling. She sent me a puppet of my own; a small red unicorn with a green and yellow stripe across his belly - it is definitely a he. He sat on my desk going nowhere. I was impatient to know his name and go traveling but being a unicorn he remained silent and patient. Then one day he introduced himself as Moose.

“Moose?” that’s an odd name for a unicorn. He was unperturbed by my reaction.

“We’re going to Japan together.” he explained simply and so we did.

You will spot him in several photos(that’s him showing off the best meal I had in Japan). Whether hanging out , literally, in my shirt pocket or being held aloft he enjoyed the great sites we visited as much as I did. I can’t wait to go traveling with him again.