Kyoto

AKA: Impressions of a City

Were I to write up a comprehensive entry of my four days in Kyoto, I fear I would lose the interest of my (already minimal) readership. We went to at least 16 notable places, we ate the local specialties, and I endure through some million mental images when someone asks me about the trip. Instead, I'll write some of my impressions...which will be a long enough post as it is! (If you want more specifics, comment and let me know!)

Kyoto ... felt like an old love; I loved it in a way that was not passionate or overwhelming, but instead had a very comfortable, broken-in kind of feel. It sounds odd for me to say that, as I've always felt myself to be more of a country or outer suburbs sort of girl. I love being surrounded by nature, quiet, and my own space; the idea of being comfortable in a city seems entirely out of my realm.



There were several things that made Kyoto comfortable, in my mind. To start, the city sprawls. It's huge, and there is a lot there, but it doesn't have the cramped feel of Tokyo (or New York, or Chicago's downtown, or Atlanta's downtown, or...). It also has a very well-planned public transportation system. We were mostly using buses on our visit, which is my least favorite kind of public transportation, and yet it was always so clear where we were and how we were going that I rarely, if ever, had cause to complain. I find both of these qualities really attractive in a city, especially because they are things you can't find in the suburbs/country-side. Kyoto is also breathtakingly gorgeous. Now, we were visiting at the height (arguably) of Kyoto's beauty - the cherry blossoms were in full bloom and the weather was that of sunny-spring instead of rainy-spring. Still, it is wonderful to be in a city with parks, trees, and occasionally even grass (a luxury I never fully appreciated before seeing the dirt field in front of my middle school in the midst of a heavy rain).

In short, I never felt threatened by it's city-ness, nor did I ever feel that I was in an ugly place.

One of the major life lessons I'm trying to take from my time here in Japan is how and where I like to live. I've never lived on my own before, and this is pretty dagum "on my own." Kyoto taught me that I like the idea of living such that owning a car was unnecessary, or, at the very least, not an everyday necessity.

Of course, a large part of having a comfortable, long-term love is knowing your partner's faults. Kyoto was too touristy; I would always feel I was being viewed as a tourist. As Ota, especially my corner of it, is not exactly what you would call a "tourist trap," I feel like people understand that I'm here on a long-term agenda when they see me in the local store. I take a lot of comfort in that feeling. While I should probably try to adjust my neurosis in regards to how I'm viewed instead of complaining about how it limits me, I do find fault in Kyoto with this.
(...not to mention the swell of tourists come the weekend. It was strangling.)

I will tell two quick stories, as I think I'd do any post about my trip a disservice to not include them.

1. Hanami
In Japan, it's traditional to have "cherry-blossom viewing parties," or "hanami" in Japanese. While this sounds like a very spiritual thing, like a time of reflection, it is, in fact, an excuse to get wickedly drunk. We went to a pretty famous park on Thursday night in order to experience this phenomenon, and experience it we did. Maruyama Park is lit at night, so we arrived at 4 or 5 and stayed until well past dark, finally leaving at 9:30. During that time, we were "adopted" by a group of Japanese people and one foreigner, all cheifs for a local hotel. They gave us some of their extra food, which was delicious, and some of their extra alcohol. All of this was entertaining, especially because they were using their broken English and we were using our broken Japanese. They laughed at us when we said we lived in Gunma; they laughed even harder when they saw the alcohol we brought ("I guess it's ok for a foreigner..."). They labeled Aaron as a John Travolta doppelganger and, upon my asking, declared Clarissa to be Whitney Houston. Some moments were priceless, though I will say that my favorite moment was when the nicest of the bunch said, in apology for the sudden on-rush of his coworkers, "Many men...ONE gentleman." (I just about died laughing.) We were issued invitations to join them for post-hanami partying, but, as they were "likely to be sick any moment" drunk, we declined and went home instead. All in all, it was a wonderful experience and was easily one of the highlights of the trip.



2. Fushimi Inari
My favorite place in Kyoto, I can easily say, was Fushimi Inari. It's known as "the Shrine of 1,000 Tori" ("tori" are the red arches/gates often found at the entrance to a shinto shrine), though the name is somewhat of a misnomer. It should be "the Shrine of 1,000,000 Tori," and no one will convince me that there are fewer than that number there. The main shrine is at the base of a mountain, while the inner shrine resides at the top of said mountain. The path from the main shrine to the inner one is lined with tori of various sizes: the largest each standing as close to the one before it and behind it as possible, straddle the path between the shrines, while the two smaller sizes (between 1 foot and 3 feet in height) are stacked, hung, and otherwise arranged so as to enable them to be seen, but out of the way. The place is literally overflowing with these red and black arches.

It was really beautiful. There is a real sense of peace in walking along those arches, feeling them sweep over you and knowing that each arch is another knotch of time flowing past you peacefully, bringing you a little further forward in your life.