Gold, Tigers and Bamboo

We left “Osaka” bright and early on Friday. Within an hour, we were closing in on Kyoto again. We picked up our luggage from the lockers at the Okie Dokie station and managed to get the hotel to hold them until we checked in that evening. Our mission that morning: Kinkakuji and Ryoanji.

We caught a bus outside the hotel and arrived in the hills of western Kyoto by 10:30. Already, the streets were tight with pedestrians and creative taxi drivers. The weather was looking a bit shady, and my concerns only grew as I looked out the window at a woman bringing some of her souvenirs into her shop and putting an awning up outside. 

But we were lucky: it didn’t rain on us at all! Once in a while, we actually got a little sunshine breaking through the clouds. That was especially nice once we were in the park and stood across the pond from Kinkakuji itself!

Golden Pavilion by name, Kinkakuji stands on the edge of a lotus pond. It sits so passively and isolated from all these people, frantically taking pictures. It was like being at the zoo, gazing into into a swan’s enclosure. I don’t know why I imagined it would be smaller, so I was surprised. But it was just as beautiful as I had hoped. 

The park has more than just the Golden Pavilion. Nobody ever mentions the tea houses on the site, one of which offers tea and snacks under a red parasol. They also never mention the small clutch of stone Buddhas on a little hill along the trail. Between them are two bowls: a large stone bowl and a smaller metal one. 

People can toss money offerings into the little group. You hope to land in one of the little bowls so your prayer or wish will be answered. If you hit the metal bowl, you’re rewarded with a full-bodied but high and pretty sound. 

I, however, got the stone bowl. Tink. It still counts. It seemed greedy to keep trying after landing in one bowl or the other so I took my win and let it ride.

The next stop was Ryoanji. For those unfamiliar, think of those little sand and pebble zen gardens you can pick up at Sharper Image or Barnes and Noble. Not think of that only life sized and immaculately groomed. 

These rock gardens are called karesansui and they’re supposed to reflect an aesthetic or natural pattern. 

Ryoanji’s karesansui is famous for a couple of reasons.

1.   The way the rocks are positioned, it’s supposed to reflect a tiger leading her cub across a river.

2.   Legend says there are 16 rocks, but the unenlightened person sees just 15. 

Ever in search of the sixteenth rock, people pad out onto the wooden porch and gaze at the rocks, meditating on the zen qualities. It’s simplicity and nature, confined and still organic. 

By the time we left Ryoanji, it was past noon. Mom and Dad wanted to see Ginkakuji (the Silver Temple, more famous for its sand gardens than its un-gilded walls) and the Philosopher’s Walk. But I had other plans. I wanted to see Arashiyama, site of the famous bamboo grove and of course, Gion. I still hadn’t gotten in any geisha-spotting and I was running out of time!

So we went our separate ways, promising to meet again after 5pm at the hotel. I walked through a quiet little neighborhood and caught the trolley to Arashiyama. The place was incredibly lively, more so than I’d expected! I thought the only draw was the bamboo grove, but I was very very wrong. There are beer gardens, shops, restaurants, and legends about ghosts-aplenty. But my mission was clear: find that bamboo forest and gape until my jaw fell off my face. 

I didn’t get off to such a hot start. The bamboo grove isn’t clearly marked on maps: it’s just a part of a very large park full of hills, paths, look outs and nature trails. I took every one of these until I found someone who could tell me how to get to the grove. 

I did enjoy my weird little detour, though. I walked along the river and found a little restaurant backed against the hills. 

My friends from back in the states who are familiar with my childhood neighborhood have heard me describe the road leading to my house as a “tree tunnel.” 

“Oh, just keep driving on Town Point Road. You’ll enter a tree tunnel,” I’d say. It’s pretty self-explanatory to me: a tunnel, only more tree-y. 

Arashiyama has a bamboo-tunnel and it is just as beautiful and grand as you’d expect from enormous, slender and graceful bamboo. The bamboo forest is so dense, light filters in blue and green. And it would be silent if not for the large crowd. But you’re not here for the crowd: don’t focus on the scalp in front of you. 

Look up! 

There’s nothing like being stunted in size and presence by something vast and old and lovely whether it’s Todaiji or a bamboo grove.

Before I left, I bought a little deer shaped incense burner to remind me of Nara and a few woven and lacquered bamboo coasters. Sure, you can probably get those anywhere, but after seeing them made in the Kyoto craftsmanship museum, I developed a whole new respect for them.