January 17
The steady beep of my alarm caused me to rip myself out of my comfortable, albeit undersized futon on the wonderfully firm tatami floor. I groggily rolled out of bed, onto the hard cold tatami floor -- yes, I know I called it wonderful but a sentence before, but it is wonderful to walk on, not roll out of bed onto. In any case, I ran down to breakfast, which turned out to be traditional Japanese style, complete with the low table and chopsticks. After eating anything that was not egg or seafood based, I went up to grab what I wanted to take for the tour of Kyoto, and later of Nara.
At least the day was not so cloudy or rainy, in fact, from time to time sunlight peeked out. However, the morning was still cool. Our first stop of the day, and the one that made the largest impression upon me was the Shogun's palace. This power center was where the Shogun, or Warlord, held his power "underneath" the Emperor, though at times in Japan's history it was he rather than the Emperor who held the power. In any case, we went shoeless and toured the freezing floors, some of which had "nightingale" nails -- so as to detect ninja assassins. Aside from the songbird floors, there were also fascinating exhibits detailing the culture of the era in which the Shogun held power. After leaving the freezing building, we stepped out into the sunlight and toured the Shogun's beautiful Japanese garden. Here, amidst flowers, haunting bridges over water and a light rising mist, we walked at will and admired the natural beauty and calm that prevailed over these parts. Once again, I was reminded of the need for balance -- between battle and beauty. And thus, I figured, the Shogun had a garden so as to relax and rest his mind before dealing with what tended towards being delicate political situation. We went back to our bus, after finding that many Japanese businessmen had asked Mrs. Medlin to be their photographer (for she had headed back to the main gate a bit earlier) -- and some had even asked, much to her puzzlement, to have a photo taken with her (tall redheads perhaps not being common in Japan). In any case, we warmed ourselves from the chilly morning airs of Kyoto back on our bus, driving past the canal cutting through part of town. This canal, our tour guide informed us, once ran from a prestigious kimono factory. In fact, visitors to the city would judge the prosperity of the factory by how much dye ran in the canal. If business was good, then many kimonos were being made, thus making the canal run in bright colors. Now, however, the water only ran clear because of environmental laws, the guide finished almost wistfully.
Our next stop was a beautiful Buddhist shrine and garden. Here, set at the edge of lake was an amazing golden Japanese style house. Beneath the roof, it was said, were the ashes of Buddha. The scenery was simply breathtaking in the mid-morning light and with the clear skies. The golden house reflected in the clear lake meshed with the patterns of the tree branches also hanging over the lake. Nearby we found a tree and branches that had been coaxed into the shape of boat, as if they were sailing on waves of grass and an invisible wind of life. There was also a small stone pillar for meditation a ways further, nestled almost underneath the eaves of a deep forest. Everything was very green, a vibrant green a slightly different tint than the one I was accustomed to seeing back home. My biologically inclined friend Debra informed me that this was because of the presence of more chlorophyll B, which made the green more yellow. I merely nodded and smiled, absorbing in the beauty of the foliage. So much green in January was strange to someone who had grown up with Michigan winters in which 12 inches of the fluffy white stuff could fall overnight with little warning.
We wandered a ways through the paths leading through the greenery, wandering into a gift shop. Browsing a bit, we discovered, much to our delight, some Haagen-Dazs vending machines, from which we promptly purchased green tea flavored ice cream and then proceeded to race back to the bus, as the appointed departure time was nearing.
We re-boarded, laughing with light-hearted joy. The green tea ice cream had come in these tiny containers, which had even tinier plastic spoons to match. As the bus rolled onto our next destination, we mined at our ice cream with these insanely small spoons and soon consumed it before arriving at our next destination.
Kyoto National Garden greeted us with security guards clearing the bus to drive in. As this was still used in part by the Imperial Family, our guide explained, certain fanatical factions needed to be kept out. Also, as part of the strict security, we would have to march in rows of four people at precisely the prescribed time. We all assented to this and wandered over to the main gates, which were fronted with these incredible trees that had these blossoms that Debra said looked like little droplets of gold. Waiting outside, soon lined up in our little rows of four, Debra struck up a little song, "Ants go marching by," which we sung with laughter as we marched passed the security guards at the gates. We did not fail to notice, however, that two guards detached and followed us at a distance, appearing disinterested while keeping a careful eye fixed on our group.
As we strolled through the National Garden, our guide pointed out the gate for dignitaries, which was only used by heads of state nowadays. It led into a striking view of the palace grounds, with its open, calm Japanese architecture. In some buildings, the walls were all on little tracks, thus enabling the occupants to produce a door or window wherever and whenever they desired. We continued walking, looping back to the main gate where we entered in. There Debra and I paused a moment and snapped photos of the beautiful golden blossoming tree framed by the gates. Then, apologizing the bemused security guards who looked on at the silly Americans, we ran to catch up with the tail of our tour group.
The bus took us back to the tour center, where we lunched and looked out over Kyoto, now visible complete with its encircling mountains. It was good to have a day in which the fog had lifted. After lunch, and after a tidbit of shopping in the crafts stores downstairs, we boarded the bus to complete the afternoon half of the tour: Nara.
Nara was capital of Japan before Kyoto, which became the capital in the early 900s. As we made the long drive to Nara, our tour guide kept awakening napping passengers with random comments about the passing countryside. Debra and I were reading a story, and found it a bit funny how the tour guide always tended to interrupt at the worst moments. But soon the guide subsided after about the tenth green tea mention and lo, we were in Nara.
Our first stop was a Buddhist shrine with the largest Buddha in the world. This Buddha is so big that a man can fit through his nostril -- a fact evidenced by the replica of the nostril that is elsewhere in the temple, allowing people to pass through for good luck. But before we got to the temple, some very friendly deer greeted us. These deer, kept by the monks, had learned to eat crackers (conveniently supplied by the cracker vendors stationed near the entrance) from humans. In fact, they were so enthusiastic to see us that they sometimes nibbled on things aside from crackers, such as the edges of Debra's coat. As Debra and I were having fun with the deer, the rest of the tour group went ahead a ways. We continued snapping photos and laughing and playing with the deer a bit longer before running to catch up with the group. When I caught sight of the huge temple housing Big Buddha, I remember exclaiming, "Wow, there's more here than just the deer!"
Inside the temple I played with flash in attempt to get a candid of the Big Buddha (surprisingly, photos were permitted here -- unlike every other temple we had been at before, thus the lack of photos from inside those). I finally got an exposure that worked and then simply observed the surroundings with my own eyes. I snapped a photo of Debra by the huge doors which poured light into the temple and then followed the tour guide as she explained the various sculptures and pointed out the replica of Buddha's nostril, as well as a replica of the temple grounds -- which had already been rebuilt at least twice (due to fires and battles).
Inevitably, the phrase "Big Buddha" recalled the party game "Big Booty" to both Debra and I. Neither of us had liked that game much, but found the chant "Big Buddha, Big Buddha, Big Buddha," now tracing its way through our heads, perhaps because of the call of the "Big Booty" game.
We left Big Buddha and made our way back to the bus. I fed the deer with the remainder of my crackers (which I had husbanded carefully) and one deer even thanked me much by repeatedly bowing to me. Deciding to thank him for his kind gesture, I bowed back, causing him to bow again... thus amusing the Japanese that were nearby. I'm not sure what they thought of the polite deer and the silly American.
After the Big Buddha shrine we headed to a Shinto shrine. This shrine was embedded in a patch of naturally beautiful land, which was appropriate, considering the Shinto religion's gods are natural objects. We waved to a deer that wandered close, remembering the deer we had just seen before and then followed the calm paths through the greenery. Once again, however, we encountered rampant commercialization, as the shrine sold various souvenirs and gifts but a few feet from the places of worship. But the natural beauty of the surroundings themselves exceeded the architectural beauty of the shrine, for trees rise more gracefully than any beam of woodman has ever crafted. We walked a bit longer beneath branch and bough, before returning to our bus and driving back to Kyoto.
We arrived back at Iroha Inn and after quickly dropping off our backpacks in our rooms, assembled for a traditional Japanese dinner in one of the inn's rooms. A lady dressed in a kimono brought out a plate of raw meat, as well as vegetables and rice and showed us how to cook our own meal. This is called a sukiyaki dinner. We soon figured out the technique and were well on our way to cooking a splendid culinary treat, enjoying both food and conversation.
After dinner, Mrs. Mizoguchi urged us to at least look at the public baths, even if all of us Americans were a bit too shy to actually venture into them. Unlike the Romans, who merely had separate times for men and women, the Japanese have separate rooms. I wandered into the men's bath, which was empty, and snapped some photos of the clean and misty surroundings, escaping quickly before my camera fogged up too much. Once back out, I discovered an electric massage chair in which I relaxed until Mrs. Medlin, Mrs. Mizoguchi and Debra returned from their expedition to the ladies' public bath.
After meeting up again, Debra and I decided to go out on the town a bit, though as Kyoto had much fewer English speakers than Tokyo, we resolved not to wander too far. Once in the crisp night, we found a little Karaoke place that Mrs. Mizoguchi had pointed out to us and we wandered inside.
There, via an innovative combination of gestures and broken English and Japanese, we requested a little Karaoke booth in which to sing a little for fun. We ascertained that yes, there were English language songs, and then wandered into the tiny little room, essentially nothing more than a bench, a table, a television and two microphones. One of the staff dropped by and asked if we had figured out how to use the Karaoke machine; I replied, "Not yet but soon" and, after pressing some buttons rather haphazardly, managed to load up a song.
We had also ordered something to drink: some soda and this electric green pop that was purportedly melon flavored. I gave it a try and found it essentially to be something very sugary and sour simultaneously. In any case, we skimmed through the song book and found a few favorites to sing, such as the Beatle's Yellow Submarine, Que Sera, Sera, and Stand By Me, as well as the randomly selected I'm Not In Love (product of my haphazard button pressing at the beginning), which had rather strange lyrics for a song. The karaoke lyrics were backgrounded by what we figured out were stock videos, one of which was very disconcerting as it presented a fly-by of New York, with the World Trade Center Twin Towers still intact -- a haunting image that dulled some of our mirth. Yet it reminded us of the preciousness of life, and of how we ought value each day as a wonderful gift. But in any case, we sang and had fun, and soon enough our hour was up. It turned out Debra had a very nice singing voice, and I had a decent one -- assuming I could land on key. Still, for two people who had thought "there's no way we're even spending 45 minutes in there," we were rather reluctant to leave, for we had had such a good time. I think I'll have to see if there isn't a nice Karaoke place near MIT.
Returning to the Iroha Inn, Debra mentioned the traditional Japanese sleepwear that was in the closet, suitable for both men and women. Feeling adventurous we decided to try it on and snap some photos. I don't particularly think it was designed with my height in mind, but it was fun to wander into the hotel lobby and ask the rather flabbergasted innkeeper to snap a photo of the two silly Americans.
Afterwards (with me changing out of the rather small traditional pajamas into something more my size), we talked and read stories for a while before finally parting to go to sleep a bit earlier than the night before, looking forward to the return to Tokyo the following day, though a bit sad that the end of our wonderful trip was slowly drawing into sight.