The One Where I Went to Kyoto With Helen, May, and Ruri

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Kyoto

November was a fine, if not somewhat cooler, month. How cool was it? Well, I had to wear a sweater to school. Crazy, I know. But while I had to be inconvenienced by digging the sweaters out from the wardrobe, at least those obnoxious typhoons left us alone, which was welcome relief to those living in the worst hit areas of the recent earthquakes. Most days were sunny and clear with just a hint of a chill in the early morning and late evening. Throughout November, the leaves turned a brilliant shade of red unlike any I’ve experienced in Edmonton, likely due to the fact that autumn lasts all of three days in Edmonton before the harshness of winter deprives the trees of their foliage. Here in Japan, however, the pleasant fall season allowed the leaves to complete the transformation from yellow to orange to red in a timely manner. This time of year is regarded as very special to the Japanese. I can certainly understand why. For one, the weather is enjoyable and for another, strolling through a tree-lined path awash with bright red foliage is quite a magnificent experience. Hikes and picnics are quite popular during the autumn season as a means to enjoy nature’s canvas. In fact, this time of year is so special that the evening and morning news reports often featured a segment on when the leaves of a particular area were going to be at their most beautiful. In this way, you could plan when you wanted to take the family out for a picnic beneath the bright red maple trees. You could catch the leaf report after the “good days to hang your laundry this week” report.

Of all the cities in Japan, Kyoto is particularly beautiful at this time of year. Kyoto lies to the east of Hiroshima in an area know as the Kansai Region. Centuries ago, Kyoto was the political capital of Japan and home to the imperial family; however, from the 9th century onward, the job of ruling Japan was taken over by large military families know as shogunates who ruled from various locations across Japan. As such, the imperial family in Kyoto grew increasingly in symbolic power while diminishing in actual political power. This change in power was likewise reflected in the fortunes of the city. Burned to the ground in 1467, Kyoto was rebuilt only to see a new capital established in Edo (present-day Tokyo) 4 centuries later. The fortunes of Kyoto weren’t all bad though, as it was spared the bombing that occurred in other major Japanese cities during WWII. Therefore, many important cultural artifacts and buildings still remain from the time Kyoto was rebuilt 500 years ago. Due to this fact, many people believe that Kyoto is the cultural heart of Japan. Indeed tell any Japanese person that you are planning to go to Kyoto, and their reply will probably be something along the lines of, “oh, yes, you must go to Kyoto. It is a very beautiful city and the cultural heart of Japan.”

So when some of my fellow JETers approached me about a trip to the historic capital, I gratefully accepted. My trip to Okayama was, after all, quite a success. Why not put the traveling shoes back on? Many people were approached about going to Kyoto, but in the end it was only a small group of us who made the trip. There were four of us in all, and interestingly enough, each person represented a different nationality: Helen from Australia, May from England, Ruri from Japan and me from…well…you know where I’m from.

Where’s A Denny’s When You Need One?

The journey to Kyoto started much smoother than the journey to Okayama. The reason being I was (gasp) packed and ready to go at an appropriate time. It helped though that the bus to Kyoto didn’t leave until 11 at night, giving me lots of time to put off as well as complete the pre-departure chores. So with the plants watered, the garbage taken out, the dishes done and my packed bag strapped to my shoulders, I set off for Kyoto. There was, however, just one more task that needed doing before I got to the bus station, and that was to help fellow JETer Brenda celebrate her birthday. It should come as no surprise that Brenda, being Irish, chose to celebrate her tanjobi (birthday) in an “autentic” manner at Molly Malone’s “autentic” Irish pub. For those of us heading to Kyoto, it was an ideal situation. We were able to get a good meal in our bellies, enjoy the company of our fellow JETers, and get a couple free shooters courtesy of Mark, the manager (yes, we are on a first name basis with Molly’s staff. It’s kind of sad actually). Moreover, Molly Malone’s is stumbling distance from the bus centre, which was very handy. Plus, we felt copious amounts of alcohol would actually help us sleep during the 8 hour overnight bus ride to Kyoto.

The idea of an overnight bus ride is a lot like Communism: good in theory but not in practice. In theory, we would get on a bus really late at night, sleep, then wake up the next day in Kyoto ready to explore. In practice it was quite different. Even with a few drinks in us the bus ride was not easy. Quite possibly it was the worst night’s sleep I’ve ever had, and that’s taking into account the fact that I had to share a bed with Mike during last year’s Panorama trip (Or did Mike have to share a bed with me? Either way, he’d probably agree that it was the worst sleep he’s ever had). Finding a comfortable sleeping position in the small Japanese seats was difficult for a lanky foreigner. It was similar to the old “square peg, round hole” conundrum. Sleep, when it eventually came, was often interrupted by the movement of people getting on and off the bus. When we finally arrived at Kyoto Station at 6:30 in the morning, I was stiff, sore, tired, cranky and hungry. Not to mention I really had to pee.

Our second order of business in Kyoto (I’m sure you can guess what the first was) was to get to the hotel, put our luggage down and get a nice hot shower. Now naturally this was not something we thought about when we purchased tickets for the overnight bus, but when you get to your hotel at 6:30 in the morning, you can’t just show up and expect your rooms to be ready. There is the little matter of the previous night’s guests still occupying the rooms to contend with. Among 4 well educated university graduates, we had failed to consider this. Thankfully, a blurry-eyed hotel proprietor (whom we had woken from slumber in the adjoining living quarters) was able to point out this all-to-obvious fact. He took pity on us, though, and agreed to store our luggage until we could officially check-in at a more reasonable time. Satisfied but still stinky, we strolled back to the station to search for sustenance.

Had our journey been to any major, minor, or rinky dink town anywhere in North America, we would have had no problem finding somewhere to eat breakfast. Unfortunately, we were in Japan searching for a place to eat breakfast; a search paralleled in difficulty by Dubba’s search for weapons of mass destruction. I guess the Japanese haven’t embraced the idea of 24 hour diners like North Americans have. So we spent a fantastic hour of exploring the labyrinthine depths of Kyoto station (for some reason, Japanese train stations all have shopping districts underneath them). At last we came across a Subway (the same kind as in Canada) preparing to open. Excited and hungry, we hovered around the shop doors as if they had fresh cases of McFarlane hockey figures awaiting us on the other side. The manager unlocked the doors and the race was on. Who would be first to the order counter? In the end, it didn’t matter. The “sandwich artists” quickly and carefully plied their trade, and soon we were finally filling our bellies with glorious food.

Having taken care of sustenance, our troop was ready for exploring. And explore we did. First we hit up Nishi Hongan-ji, a Buddhist temple, which was not far from the station. It was a nice start to our Kyoto sightseeing, but unfortunately the main temple was under restoration and therefore we could not see it. We were able to view the four other smaller temples, though. One of which had a great gift shop (I don’t know what it is about Japanese tourist sites, but I don’t understand why these supposedly sacred temples all hawk souvenirs. Mind you, now that I think about it, even the Vatican has a gift shop. Anywhere there’s a dollar—or yen—to be made I guess…). As for the main temple, if we were to return in July of 2005, when the temple is expected to re-open, we could take it in then. No plans for that at this point, as we were well and truly satisfied with what we were able to see. After lunch we ventured off to another spot not for from the station. That spot was Toji Temple, which holds the distinction of having the tallest pagoda in Japan. While on the grounds of Toji Temple, we toured the tea houses, temples and gardens before finally entering into the pagoda itself. It was a short tour around the innards of the pagoda but a nonetheless fascinating one.

We watched the sun slowly descend behind the pagoda for a while before deciding to make our way downtown. Now at this point I made a crucial mistake in my travels. My companions were, of course, women; and fine women they are. When it was decided to go downtown, I thought it was a great idea, so I agreed to go to. Since it was close to the dinner hour, I figured we’d find a place to eat and maybe get a few beers. Well, I was partly right. We did start out looking for a place to eat, but wouldn’t you know it, along the way we just happened to pass all these cute little shops. The girls just had to stop and have a look. Now I respect and appreciate the people I traveled with very much, but my God those hours were agony. Clothing shop after clothing shop. There was no refuge. I looked in vain to find one of the many comic shops, hobby stores, book stores, or electronics shops I had come to expect in Japan. Even a grocery store would have been welcome relief. My search was to no avail, however. It was an endless stream of woman’s clothing stores. Shattered and defeated, I was lead like a condemned man from store to store, salvaging the only shred of male dignity I had left by refusing to hold any handbags. But just when I thought my torment would never end, the clouds parted, the angels sounded their trumpets and the women’s clothing stores rescinded in favour of restaurants and nightspots. Like a death row inmate receiving a last minute pardon (my execution was obviously not in the hands of George Dubba) I blessed my newfound freedom immeasurably. For the remainder of the evening, there was a spring to my step. Life was merrier; the city lights shone brighter; bland Mexican food never tasted so good. I had survived. Survived to live another day. To celebrate my new appreciation for life, I had a few beers at the restaurant then watched some cable TV back at the hotel.

The Golden Temple, The Devil, And The Samurai

After enjoying the kind of sleep only a reprieved man can enjoy, it was time to get ready for day two of our Kyoto exploration. The first stop on the itinerary was Kinkaku-ji. “Kin” is the Japanese word for “gold” and Kinkaku-ji was a “shining” example of its moniker. The temple was coated with gold foil, and we had a beautiful, cloudless day in which to view all its golden splendor. Furthermore, the golden temple was situated on the bank of a large pond so that sky, water, earth and golden temple came together in a beautiful harmony, making it difficult to tell one from the other. As is often the case, such beauty inspires creativity, and there is a story about Kinkaku-ji and a monk that is worth relating. Whether this story is the work of fact or fantasy or somewhere in between I can not tell, but it was said that centuries ago, a monk was so enamoured with the beauty of the temple that he was driven to madness. Eventually his madness consumed him to the point where he felt a thing of such beauty could simply not exist on an earthly plane. In order to correct this “mistake,” he set fire to the temple and, in the process, himself, reducing both to a pile of ash. And while I would certainly agree that the rebuilt Golden Temple was beautiful, undoubtedly worthy of the monk’s adulation, I thankfully felt no urge to start any fires.

From the overt beauty of Kinkaku-ji, we moved down the road a ways to view the subtle beauty of Ryoan-ji, famous for its Zen rock garden. The arrangement of the rocks was supposedly done quite meticulously. And it is said that a person could spend a lifetime contemplating what the arrangement of rocks might mean. I, however, just saw a bunch of rocks that had been neatly raked. I guess I’d make a poor Buddhist monk. Not enough meditation in my life I suppose. I guess someone well versed in the knowledge of Zen and Buddhism would probably really appreciate the Ryoan-ji, but I would advise caution. You don’t want to drive yourself mad trying to figure out the meaning of the rock garden and, in frustration, set fire to it.

Following our visit to Ryoan-ji, we stopped for lunch at this quiet little Ramen shop we happened across. The restaurant was picturesquely situated across from a scenic lake and was run by a young woman and her grandmother. They were both very friendly and grateful for our patronage. The grandmother, in particular, was like an obaasan you’d read about in Japanese fables. She was small in stature yet kind and gentle in demeanor. Each line on her face seemed to suggest untold stories and wisdom accumulated during her many years. And she spoke to us in a reassuring manner that made us feel relaxed and comfortable. I was filled with regret that I could not speak Japanese better, so as to hear and understand the stories that comprised this intriguing woman.

Something strange happened when Obaasan received a visitor, though. The visitor came just as we were just getting our meals, so we were concentrating on eating and not what was going on around us. We only noticed the visitor as she entered and passed our table on her way to the back of the restaurant where Obaasan was seated. In between the slurping of our noodles, we could tell that the two ladies had started a conversation. Nothing so far seemed out of the ordinary. But it wasn’t long after the visitor arrived that we heard some startling sounds coming from their direction. The sounds were low and gravelly, and were followed by a bizarre cackling noise. First we looked at each other in bewilderment, then we looked in the direction of Obaasan and her friend. What we saw was shocking. Our once kind, gentle grandmother had been replaced by this fiendish looking old woman rocking back and forth in her chair and slapping her hand against her knee, all the while emitting the same gravelly noises and cackles we heard earlier. It was as though poor Obaasan was possessed by some evil spirit; additionally, she sounded possessed, like a Led Zeppelin record being played backwards. The rest of our meal was spent choking down our food while trying to stifle our laughter at poor Obaasan’s transformation from angel to devil. How exactly this transformation came about remains a mystery.

In hindsight, it seems our run in with the devil was a bit of a bad omen (but then, when is a run in with the devil not a bad omen?). You see, I had since arriving in Japan desired to see some bamboo forests. Kyoto is the perfect place to see such forests and on this particular afternoon we had planned to do just that. After confirming directions with the devil (never trust the devil for directions), we were confident we were on the right track. Go past the lake, turn left, walk for ten minutes and you’re there is basically what she told us. Two hours later we were still searching for the bamboo forests advertised in our Kyoto broacher. In the process though, we did stumble upon something interesting. Whatever road it was we were on lead to dead end. But at the end of the road was a small shrine, and there was a great commotion around the shrine. Not having any idea as to what was going on, we decided to investigate. Plus, we thought the forests might lie beyond the shrine. So we started poking our noses around. We saw an assortment of ancient weapons including bows, arrows, swords and spears; a number of video cameras and sound equipment; and an ornately decorated horse. It quickly became apparent as to what was going on. We had somehow stumbled onto the location set for some samurai movie or television show. We spent a few minutes wondering whether we were allowed to be there or not until we finally decided that we’d hang around. Besides, if we weren’t allowed to be there, we figured someone would make an effort to tell us and we could play the old “I’m sorry, I’m a foreigner and I don’t know any better,” card if we had to. As is turned out, no one ever came and told us to leave and to our delight we discovered that there was a much larger group of people waiting to watch the samurai action. We simply blended in with them as best as three foreigners could (Ruri managed to fit in quite well with the other Japanese) and enjoyed watching the shoot.

Once we had finished watching the shoot, I reminded the group of our original goal of finding the bamboo forests. As we had just spent two hours searching for these forests, there was some reluctancey among the others to continue the search. But I was firm my resolve (a polite way of saying I was a pain in the ass) and insisted we continue. We had barely left the shrine and the samurai when someone came up with the idea of getting a taxi to the forests. I was stubbornly convinced that the forests were “just around the corner,” which was a phrase I had been repeating for three hours by this time. However, if a taxi would prevent a mutiny, I reasoned that I’d better go along with it. Besides, the taxi driver would surely know how to get to the forests. When we were able to flag down a cab driver and as we told him where we wanted to go, he looked at us in amazement and asked us several times in Japanese if we were sure we wanted to go. Each time he asked we said yes. Finally accepting that we were going to the forest in his taxi and we weren’t going to take no for an answer, he turned on the metre, drove to the end of the block, turned right, drove up an additional three blocks, turned off the metre and collected 620 yen (taxies are really, really expensive in Japan, which may explain the cab driver’s surprise at our request). For all the times I said it, this time I was actually right: the forest was “just around the corner.”

Considering all the effort it took to get there, we didn’t stay long at the bamboo forests. I was certainly excited about being there, but my companions didn’t share my enthusiasm. Though I wanted to stay and explore more, the girls had looked around, said “okay, this is nice,” and turned their thoughts toward returning downtown for some shopping. The Who wouldn’t get fooled again and neither would I. I returned to the hotel and let the girls shop uninhibited.

1000 Smiling Buddhas

After a few miscalculations over the previous two days (an extended search for breakfast, getting lost while looking for the bamboo forests), we were well-seasoned Kyoto travelers by the third day. By now we were negotiating local transit with ease; we had stocked the minibars in the two hotel rooms with breakfast foods so we wouldn’t have to search for breakfast; and we had a solid idea of where we were going and how to get there. Indeed things were running smoothly now.

Sanjusangen Do was up first on this day. At 120 metres in length, this temple was certainly the longest I’ve seen since arriving in Japan. It had to be long, though, as it housed 1000 statues of Buddha, 28 statues of Buddha’s guardians and servants, and 1 HUGE Buddha statue. It was hard not to think of those Budweiser commercials from a few years back: 1000 statues of Buddha, 28 statues of Buddha’s guardians and servants, and 1 HUGE statue of Buddha equals one incredible experience. And it was a pretty incredible experience. While the 1000 statues tended to be somewhat uniform in appearance, to see the amount of detail on the 28 statues of Buddha’s servants and the HUGE Buddha itself was pretty fascinating. Also of interest was learning about the archery contest held at Sanjusangen Do every year. Though we missed the seeing the contest this year, we could still appreciate reading up on the traditions behind it. The contest dates back to the early 1600s and is a true test of endurance for all archers alike. Archers, we read, would shoot arrows day and night for something like a week, if you had the endurance to last that long. Some archers it is said have fired as many as 13,000 arrows in that time. Incredible. The archery contest is also important to women, for even in modern times young female archers will participate in the contest as a way of celebrating their coming-of-age. Perhaps they feel the act of piercing a target with an arrow is symbolic of piercing a man’s heart.

After seeing 1000 Buddha statues, 28 statues of Buddha’s servants and guardians, and one HUGE Buddha statue, we headed over to Kiyomizu-dera Temple. The temple was built high in the hills and its main hall opens to a stage set upon a cliff. Looking out from this stage gives you a commanding view up to the mountainous peaks and down to the city of Kyoto. A short hike below the stage is a waterfall. Popular belief holds that a drink from this waterfall will bestow you with certain powers. Naturally, I took advantage of this opportunity, hoping for some of these rumoured powers. Sadly, though, despite having several drinks, I can neither fly nor turn invisible. Nor do I possess the proportional strength of a spider, so I don’t know if there’s any truth to this whole, “drink the water for special powers,” business. Maybe those who made this claim were talking about different kinds of powers.

From Kiyomizu-dera, we ventured back down the hill to see the brilliant orange and green temples of Heian-jingu. As far as temples go, Heian-jingu is actually quite a new one, having been constructed in 1895 to commemorate the 1100th anniversary of Kyoto (when you consider that Alberta will only be celebrated its 100th anniversary in 2005, it really puts into perspective the fact that Canada is, relatively speaking, just a baby). The highlight of this stop was undoubtedly the garden, which I read was meant to reflect the style of garden popular in the early 20th century. Having visited this garden, it would seem that the style of garden popular in the early 20th century is still popular, as I could really tell no difference. Perhaps it is for this reason that, in order to enrich the sense of time and place, a streetcar from the 1900s was placed right at the entrance to the garden. There’s nothing like walking into a garden expecting to see plants and other vegetation and instead seeing an old streetcar. But, as I’d observed during my trip to Okayama, the Japanese idea of a garden is somewhat different from our own. Nonetheless, we enjoyed a nice stroll through the garden, and an old covered bridge spanning a carp-filled pond made for an appealing photo opportunity.

Tired and hungry, we returned downtown for supper (and thankfully no shopping). It was while we were strolling around the streets of the Gion distract that we were fortunate to witness the excitement know as, “grab your camera quick because the geishas are leaving their schools.” As the cultural capital of Japan, Kyoto is home to many geisha schools. These schools are where young Japanese women learn the fine art of being a geisha (and for those who are unaware, such as myself at one point, a geisha is not a highly paid prostitute but rather a highly disciplined and highly paid entertainer). Learning a breadth of traditional Japanese arts including tea ceremony, fan dancing, and shimisen (a three-stringed traditional instrument) playing, young girls rise through the ranks. First they must train as an apprentice geisha, or maiko, then earn their strips as a full-fledged geisha. For whatever reason, however, there aren’t that many young girls anymore who desire to go to geisha school, so the number of geishas in Japan is dwindling. Consequently, spotting a geisha is an increasingly rare phenomenon. And when a geisha is spotted, it creates quite an uproar not unlike the paparazzi frenzy over spotting someone like, say, Prince William. On this night, as we were passing by a particular geisha school, we couldn’t help but notice several locals, cameras in hand, rushing toward the school’s entrance. Swept up in the excitement, we grabbed our cameras and made for the school’s entrance as well. It was such a commotion; there were people and cameras everywhere, everyone hoping to get a shot of a real geisha or maiko for the family album. Meanwhile, the geishas and maikos ducked and dodged their way toward the taxis that waited to whisk them away to their evening’s appointments. With my trusty camera ready, I had staked out a piece of earth by one of the taxis. And just my luck, a maiko was heading straight toward me. It was in this moment that I took pity on the poor maiko. Perhaps it was because I realized that if I shoved my camera in her face and started snapping photos, I would be not better than the evil paparazzi that drove Princess Diana to her death. As the maiko passed in front of me, I put my camera away and stepped back to let her pass. That night I slept with a sense of contentment, knowing I may have saved that young maiko’s life by not shooting her.

An Authentic Castle in Japan?

The next day we were up early and on a train bound for the city of Himeji. The purpose of our day-trip was to take in Himeji Castle, reported to be one of the few original castles left in Japan. Also, it is said to be most splendid. I found that the reports were certainly true: Himeji Castle was indeed as original as a castle can be (taking into consideration a few major face-lifts, but these were done in keeping with historic methods), and it was indeed splendid. We were lucky enough to arrange an English speaking tour guide and I found that his insight really enhanced our appreciation of the castle and the castle grounds. He was well gifted in both English and the tour-guide trade. He deftly guided us around the castle pointing out various points of interest and cracking a few jokes along the way. The force was strong with this one, though I don’t think he could ever be considered in the same league with Cheryl King. I mean, he didn’t do the infamous “backwards walk” nor did he have us wave goodbye to the year 2004 as we crossed into the historic castle grounds. But having said that, I must reiterate that without his knowledge we wouldn't know nearly as much about Himeji Castle as we do now. One such pearl of wisdom he shared with us was that the castle was used as a location set for one of the many James Bond movies. I can’t say I exactly remember which one, but if you’re a James Bond movie buff, you’ll know the movie I’m speaking of. It’s the one in which Sean Connery walks down the steps of a Japanese castle with two other actors (I haven’t seen the movie myself, but our tour guide told us that it was a really famous scene. He may have been a little biased, however). Well my friends, those steps were the very steps found within the grounds of Himeji Castle. The castle grounds, incidentally, were immense in comparison to the castles I had seen to that point. We started our tour at the main gate, moved into a small courtyard, climbed the stairs to a larger, upper courtyard and then moved into the servant’s quarters. Exiting the servant’s quarters, we found ourselves in yet another courtyard, this one at the base of the main building. All that walking and we still had yet to see the main building.

In all our tour lasted about two and a half hours. But an enjoyable two and a half hours they were. Those two and a half hours didn’t include the garden adjacent to the castle, however, so that was where we headed next, since we had already paid to see it with the admission fees to the castle. Approaching the garden’s entrance, I was reminded of something Jen had told me back during my Okayama visit. She had said that after a while, you start to look at a temple, shrine, or garden and think, “great, another temple, shrine, or garden.” By now I was starting to think this way. We had seen so many gardens that it was getting easy to predict what each would contain: a pond with some carp, a bridge over the pond, a tea house on the other side, some trees and lawn surrounding the tea house, and perhaps some ornate stone statues set upon the lawn and among the trees. And while this cynical prediction generally matched reality, it is worth noting that each garden nevertheless held something original and unique enough to distinguish it from the next garden. Heian-jingu, for instance, had the streetcar. Himeji gardens on the other hand, offered karmic alignment. Since I had done a good turn the previous day by not playing the role of paparazzi with the maiko, I had been rewarded with a genuine opportunity to photograph maikos in the picturesque surroundings of the garden as opposed to the grimy streets of Gion. I’m not sure why all these maiko were out at Himeji gardens, but I’m not one to question my good fortune. I figure they were probably part of some promotional photo shoot or something, because there was a small army of professional looking photographers gathered around. This small army, however, was nowhere near the insane number of the paparazzi wannabes in Gion the other night. It was quite easy to walk over and join the group of photographers for some photo opportunities, once again playing the “I’m sorry, I’m a foreigner and I don’t know any better,” card. All things considered, the day trip to Himeji was a success. We returned to Kyoto for the night to rest for one final day of exploring.

Nightingale Floors and Monkey Steps.

We had half a day to spend in Kyoto before we had to catch our bus back to Hiroshima and we weren’t going to let it go to waste. Our first destination of the day was Nijo Castle. The skill of the artisans who worked and the castle was abundant, and the castle abounded with intricately detailed work. The main gate leading to the castle proper was particularly attractive. Delicate carvings of cranes and pine trees were accented with golden trim, while just beyond the castle loomed magnificently. Within the castle itself there were equally attractive paintings on the screen doors by renowned Japanese painters. These paintings mostly reflected the motif of cranes and pine trees displayed on the main gate, but every so often we’d come across a room painted with eagles or tigers. Just to mix things up, I suppose. Though the carvings and paintings were definitely worth seeing, the real attraction for me was the “nightingale floor,” so called because when you walk over it, the floorboards emit a high pitched tone, not unlike the sound of a nightingale I presume (I’ve never heard a nightingale; I can’t say I’d know what one sounds like). The floor, we discovered, had been cleverly designed this way, so as to protect against unwanted intruders. Having paid my good money for admission, though, I think I could be counted as a “wanted” intruder, along with the other hundreds of people that had come to see the castle. The cumulative effect of so many people walking across the floors of Nijo Castle was quite staggering. At times, it sounded more like a bird sanctuary than a castle. Ah, the ingenuity of ancient times.

A short ways away from Nijo Castle was Nijo Jinya. The Lonely Planet book described Nijo Jinya as one of “Kyoto’s hidden gems,” and that it is “seldom visited by short-term visitors.” In addition, the Lonely Planet said of Nijo Jinya: “what appears to be an average Edo-period mansion, however, is no ordinary dwelling.” Allured by such a mysterious description, we headed in the direction of Nijo Jinya.

Now, so mysterious was Nijo Jinya that we couldn’t just walk in off the street. We had to first make an appointment. We were also strongly encouraged to bring a Japanese speaking friend. Luckily, we had Ruri, whose native Japanese had, by this time, saved us on no less than twenty occasions. Once again she would be called upon to help us English speakers understand what the heck was going on. As we entered the dimly light foyer of Nijo Jinya, it became apparent that Ruri would not be alone in this task. In addition to May, Helen and myself, there were a number of other Westerns. Like ourselves, they all had a local friend who would be counted on to do some translation. There was a range of ability among the translators, but as the rooms were small and the hallways narrow, it was possible for all of us English speakers to overhear the translation provided by each other’s translators. As such, it was possible to piece together the story of Nijo Jinya. Way back in the before time, in the long, long ago, Nijo Jinya served as a hotel for a very special clientele: those who wanted utmost secrecy and security during their stay. Typical clientele included a nice mix of honourable samurai, roguish outlaws, those on the lam, and those who had reason to fear for their life. Whatever their walk of life, they came to this unassuming hotel and paid top dollar for its specialized services that catered to those who didn’t want anyone interfering with their business. As we moved from one small room to another, the Japanese speaking tour guide demonstrated how a wall could be removed, revealing a secret passageway; a floorboard folded down to access a hidden weapon cache; one of the ceiling panels could be slid out of place, providing the guest with a place to hide, or alternatively, a place from which to launch a surprise attack. As the tour guide explained each new device, our translator friends tried their best to explain these things in English. Explanations were of course varied, as the vocabulary to describe hidden passages, secret weapon caches and sliding ceiling panels isn’t perhaps what we would consider part of our common vernacular. One translator, however, hit upon a pretty all encompassing, and memorable, description. She was a sweet little Japanese girl, about three smurfs tall with incongruently large and slightly bulging eyes. She looked very much like a character from a Japanese cartoon, which is a bit unusual because the Japanese seldom resemble the cartoon images of themselves. Anyway, I’m digressing. As the first hiding spot had been shown to us, the young woman said, “zis is,” paused for a minute to find the right _expression, and continued with, “ninja hiding place.” This description brought collective “a-ha’s” from those listening, much to her delight. As the tour continued, she grew increasingly confident, pronouncing with each new sliding panel revealing another hidden crawl space that, “zis is ninja hiding place.” Eventually, I got to the point where I needed no translation. As the tour guide opened yet another secret panel, I worked out that this must be a “ninja hiding place.” Across the room I could hear the young woman confirming that I had been correct in my translation.

Continuing through the mysterious hotel, we came to a stop in what appeared to be an empty corridor. But as we’d come to expect at this hotel, nothing is what it appears. The guide removed a ceiling panel, moved two long, slender beams that must have been decoys rather than structure support, and finally pulled down a steep and narrow staircase. The guide rattled of some description concerning this staircase which was met with silence as the translators worked out how to word the guide’s description in English. Before too long, the translators where saying things like, “these are stairs,” and “you can go to the second floor using these stairs.” Our brave and ingenious young woman, however, went the extra mile for her English speaking friends. “These are monkey steps,” she said and then proceeded to pantomime how a person would go up these steps, clearing demonstrating that indeed, when you go up these steps you look like a monkey. Hence the name “monkey steps.” This fine little bit of translation certainly enhanced my understanding in a more, shall we say, historically authentic manner. Not only that, we had a wonderful mental image of a young Japanese girl with large eyes climbing imaginary stairs like a monkey to delight us as we made the long journey home to Hiroshima.

‘Tis the Season

Fantastic castles, wonderful temples, ornately dressed geishas and maikos, one thousand Buddha statures, ninja hiding places and monkey steps. Yes, our trip to Kyoto was quite a success I’d say. But I’m sure that if you’re still with me, then you’re probably tired of hearing about Kyoto by now. I’ll therefore turn my attention to other matters. At the time of writing, Christmas is just a few days away. With that in mind, I want to make sure to wish you all a very Merry Christmas. May Santa be kind to you all and bestow you with all that your heart desires. Also, whatever you may find yourselves doing, make sure to have a Happy New Year. Or, as I learned to say in Japanese, yoi otoshi o omakae kudasai (please have a Happy New Year)!

As for my holiday plans, I elected to stay in Asia for the holiday season. This will be my first Christmas away from home and family and friends and at times I’ve questioned whether I should have come home to Edmonton or not, especially when I was doing lessons about Christmas celebrations in Canada. I couldn’t talk about this topic without thinking of all I will be missing out on this holiday season: sledding in the woods behind the Hlushak house, a fantastic feast and skating at Olive’s, another fantastic feast at Grandma Trimble’s in Vegreville, Christmas Eve at 84 Ridgemont where the Hoffman, Trimble and Harris clans will gather, Christmas Day with Mom, Marv, Lori, Donna, Chris, and Kelsey (please play some late night video games in memory of us Kels), New Year’s Day at the Spady residence, and the list goes on. With every missed opportunity in Canada though, a new opportunity arises over here in Japan. I will use the holidays as a chance to do some traveling and sightseeing in areas I would not have taken the time to see had I not been living in Japan. I’ll be thinking of you all fondly during my travels and wishing you all the best this holiday season. Please think of me fondly too, but not too fondly, for a little jealousy over my Christmas plans would be appreciated.

Well, I’m running long and I have to catch a flight in a few short hours. So that’s enough out of me. I look forward to talking to you again in the New Year. “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”

(Confused as to why the foliage in some of the photos isn’t nearly as autumnal as it should be? Well you see, going back to when my computer got all buggered up, I lost most of my Kyoto pictures from my visit in November 2004. So I supplemented what I had left with pictures from my trip to Kyoto with Mom and Judy in August 2005. It all pretty much looks the same anyway, wouldn’t you agree? Please don’t feel deceived).

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Photos

Toji
The top of Japan’s tallest pagoda reaches up from changing Japanese maples.

Kinkakuji
Its name means, appropriately enough, Golden Temple.

Kinkakuji
You can never have too many Kinkakuji pictures.

Kinkakuji
Kinkakuji is one of the most famous attractions in Kyoto, so why not have another look at it from a different persective?

Ryoan-ji
A view of one end of the famous rock garden.

Ryoan-ji
And the other end.

Ryoan-ji
And close up.

Samurai Movie Shoot.
Behind the scenes of the latest Samurai blockbuster. You know the one. Actually, you probably don’t. I don’t even know what they’re filming other than it’s a samurai film. I thought we were lucky to stumble upon this shoot but unfortunately they didn’t offer us a walk-on part.

Bamboo Grove
I thought this bamboo grove was pretty cool, even if some of my traveling companions didn’t.

Kiyomizu-deru
This little guy spouts water outside Kiyomizu-dera. Ain’t he cute?

Kiyomizu-deru
Offering panoramic views of the city of Kyoto, Kiyomizu-dera must be the choice location for local monks wanting to host an unbelievable patio party.

Kyoto Skyline
As seen from Kiyomizu-dera's viewing platform.

Heian-jingu
Helen, Ruri, and May chill on the covered bridge in Heian-jingu's garden.

Himeji Castle
Himeji Castle in all its majesty. Yes, it is my favourite castle in all Japan. It’s also the only true castle in Japan. Well, along with 3 others.

Garden Maiko
A maiko—that’s an apprentice geisha for those not in the know—admires the foliage in Kouko-en, the garden next to Himeji castle.

Strolling through Kouko-en
The shoes are official maiko garden strolling shoes.

Nijo-jo
The entrance gate to Nijo Castle. It's very ornate.

Nijo-jo
The entrance gate in more detail. See, isn’t it elaborate? Pretty spectacular, eh.

Nijo-jo
The picturesque garden at Nijo Castle.

Nijo-jo
One of the several moats in and around the grounds of Nijo Castle.

Kyoto Station
Haters claim that Kyoto Station’s glass and steel edifice is completely out of touch with the city’s storied history. Judge for yourself. This photo was taken from the top level observation deck looking back over the central terminal.