Japan Day 5

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Day 5:

Our full-day tour began with a rickshaw ride through a bamboo forest. The rickshaws were waiting for us as we entered a neighborhood of Temples (Shinto not Jewish). As we got going it became quickly obvious that a whole lot of tourists have rickshawed this way before. The experience reminded me of the “Handsome Cab” carriages along Central Park South in New York. The difference being that instead of horses pulling the well-worn route there were 20 something young men. Being in rickshaws differed from being on our own two feet in the distance covered, or maybe just how long it took to cover the same distance, but there were thousands of tourists and even more students walking this same route. The drivers had their places to stop for pictures and they took them for us too. I’ve attached some photos.

The next stop was another Temple and a walk through a bamboo forest. The forest itself was beautiful. The bamboo trunks were varieties of green to very light blue topped with a bright, contrasting canopy of green. The canopy is not complete and light shines through the forest in streaks rather than just open light. This description is pitiful but using words to describe colors and shapes is hard. Anyway, we were able to see these trees but just barely. Again, thousands, maybe tens of thousands of tourists and student groups crammed the pathway through the forest and we had no choice but to be carried along by the crowd. I kept a close eye and hand on Fran, afraid she’d get crushed or carried away in a different direction. Not my favorite situation. Way out of all of our western comfort zones.

After that we had a serious conversation with our guide; no more crushing mobs. Instead we went to a place that sold handmade Japanese paper and went into a few antique stores and saw some beautiful contemporary Japanese ceramic and lacquer work. Lunch was at a Soba Noodle place in the basement of a hotel nearby. We slurped away. It was quite good and quite fast.

For the afternoon we asked to explore the gion district in Kyoto. This district is, among other things, the district where Geisha(s) train and practice their skills. According to Wikipedia, “Geisha, geiko, or geigi are Japanese women who entertain through performing the ancient traditions of art, dance and singing, and are distinctively characterized by traditional costumes and makeup.” But legend and great novels like James Clavell’s “Shogun,” describe them as having extraordinary other skills. Today, being a Geisha is an unusual vocation for attractive young women but it is entirely legitimate and the practice does not include prostitution. The Japanese want us to know and believe that. Young women apply to become a Geisha and if accepted, live with a “mother” who facilitates their training and practice. Geisha parties are, apparently, very expensive propositions but do happen, often as part of business trips. Me too has not reached Geisha land. While there are few actual Geishas, many young girls and women enjoy dressing and making their face and hair up as geiko and walk around the district. Sometimes their boyfriends or husbands dress as Shoguns. We saw a lot of that. It’s one of those things that we westerners will robably never understand. As we walked through the area and were shown various Geisha houses, Fran spied two real Geishas and got a couple of photos. How did we know they were real? You could tell, said our guide. Their furtive ways seemed to confirm that.

A short walk from the Geishas, still in the gion district, is the Forever Museum of Contemporary Art, a repurposed building of some sort that had a huge exhibition of Yayoi Kusami works, mostly centered around the image of a pumpkin. Kusami is 91 and has been working as an artist for a very long time. She works in painting, sculpture, drawings, electronic media, poetry and about anything else art. Fran says she’s nuts. Our guide says she’s a genius. They are both probably right. We very much enjoyed seeing the evolution of her work. It is all very skillful and obsessive.

For dinner, we had a reservation at a tempura restaurant; supposedly not the greasy, crusty, fried shrimp or zucchini we get in the US. Cooking proper tempura is an art, so we are told. I was especially looking forward to it as my slurped soba wasn’t holding me. Besides, who doesn’t really like breaded and fried? We walked from the hotel. It was down a tiny alley off a tiny street. It was a tiny restaurant with only a counter. Behind the counter was the “chef,” the guy who managed the large, ancient looking cast-iron bowl that served as the fryer. A gas burner heated the oil, which appeared to have been well-used. Chef was continually adjusting the heat up and down. Keeping the temperature of the oil right seemed to be the key. We had a corner which was great. The food started to come. A piece of shrimp, a piece of chicken, a vegetable; each one, one bite. The food was a pale mahogany. It was not greasy. Some pieces were a little salty. Some had wasabi or other spices, but none of it was at all like we had ever experienced. The coating was very light. We went through the 20 or so courses, each one bite, along with a bottle of Chablis and finished up in about an hour. Walking home, I began to realize that the light taste was a deception. In fact, we consumed a lot of food, salt, fat and a lot of alcohol. Can’t fool the body for very long. We found our way back to the hotel for a night’s sleep to get ready for the next day where we would have an all-day tour focused on, wait for it, . . . . Temples and Shrines. The Japanese take these things very, very seriously.

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