Where in the World Did Marta Senn-Diego? Part Two: The Re-Kyoto-ing

My journey from Tokyo got off to a very good start: from the train, I got my first look at Mt. Fuji. I was on the local train to Shizuoka and got a beautiful view of Fuji for a good long while. The way the 10am sunlight hit the clouds around the mountain's base, they faded into the same pale blue as the sky behind. The tapered snowcap then floated serenely over the horizon, completely disembodied from the earth below. 

And so began my Kyoto adventures, part three. I divvied up the day between local trains and shinkansen and made it to Kyoto at a reasonable hour around 3pm. My hostel this time was just a few blocks north of the ryokan where my parents stayed last summer. Kyoto was already off to a good start mostly because it wasn't all typhoony.

I wasn't looking so nice, though. For starters, I hadn't changed clothes since the previous day, had slept in my internet cafe cubby overnight, and spent the day bustling through stations. It was also a very warm day! I hadn't expected it to be so warm, but I was still wearing multiple layers to save on luggage space: silk underthings, pants, two shirts, a jacket and my coat. By the time I got to my hostel, I was pretty ripe.

I peeled off all that nastiness and showered. Sweet, blissful, euphoric...these words flowed through my mind as the warm water hit my face. Clean, fresh, and ready to go, I went back out to troll the streets and get some photos before I lost the sunlight.

My first stop was Nishiki Market. Parallel to Shijo Avenue, it's an old and famous covered market street stuffed with shops and vendors selling everything under the sun from bags to shoes to chopsticks, cookies to nuts to all manner of seafood. And most of the stands hand out samples! I was hungry, naturally, but had no idea about the samples until I walked up to a pickles store.

"Pickles" in Japan just refers to the method of pickling something and can be daikon radishes, cucumbers, Western radishes, beets, greens, and little Japanese eggplants. And the pickling liquids are just as varied in flavor! At these pickle stores, little dishes were set out full of samples and you just use little tongs to pick up a sample, pick it off with your fingers and pop it in your mouth.

For a while, I camped out at the various pickle stores, filling up on veg, but found samples galore at cracker stores and even had some honey samples at a honey store. I never thought I'd eat yuzu honey alongside buckwheat honey, but in Kyoto, anything is possible!

After sufficiently haunting Nishiki, I walked over to another shopping arcade and ran smack dab into a street musician. Pink Momo, as he calls himself, was a man in a pink jacket, bleach blonde wig, bat wing head dress and holding a white guitar, singing original songs on the street. I stopped and watched for a while as he played, but when his song ended, he approached me and asked all sorts of the usual questions: Where I'm from, how long I've been here, etc. He was also eager to practice his English with me. We talked a bit about Kyoto, but suddenly, remarking on my blue-grey eyes, he decided he wanted to marry me. I played along and as he took my hand to shake it, I grabbed his hand and mock pulled him saying "Let's go! Let's marry!" We rapped like that for a few minutes. He begged my indulgence and handed me one of his flyers to continue practicing his English. He even gave me a little gift: a preserved scorpion in a block of glass.

By then, it was starting to grow dim, so I hurried back to Shijo and across the bridge to Gion. I got a few pictures of the tea houses, but was getting very hungry, so I didn't stick around to geisha spot. Instead, I found my way back to Shijo and found a cafe for some hot, soul-fulfilling curry before heading back to the hostel.

Last summer, my Kyoto-ventures were all in the Western part out in the mountains enjoying Arashiyama, Kinkakuji, and Ryoanji. This time, I followed my parents' advice and explored the East side. I started by walking along the river. The weather was a stark contrast to the previous day: cold and windy with occasional clouds. When it wasn't windy, it was bearable, but the wind and spotty cloud cover was a challenge. The river was especially windy, but I enjoyed the few sakura that had bloomed already. Most of the trees in Kyoto were just budding, a few days away from full bloom, making the few blossoms that much more precious to me.

Eventually, I went underground to catch the subway out to Nanzen-ji to see the beautiful shrines and parks out there. Unfortunately, my Japanese city map reading abilities are way out of practice and I ended up walking the wrong direction once I got to my destination station. After about 15 or 20 minutes, I figured it out and turned around and walked all the way back to the station before finding a tunnel that leads to the park.

I will never own a selfie stick. I think they just show how socially isolated we're slowly becoming, that we can walk around a crowded city or park and instead of asking someone to take a picture of us with our camera or phone, we'll stick the thing out into the crowd and clothesline someone just so we don't have to talk to another human being.

As I walked away from a giant temple gate, I noticed a man taking his wife's picture. I offered to take one of them together, and they were so grateful, they actually offered to take a picture of me with my camera. Now I have photographic evidence I was there, and it doesn't look like a nasal examination!

Up next was Eikan-do Zenrinji. The temple grounds offer a breathtaking view of Kyoto, but to get that view, you have to climb up to a pagoda. To get up there, you have to climb the stone steps that about about 7 inches deep and maybe a foot high. Calves begging for mercy, you pant and grasp the handrail as you observe the distant city below.

Back on earth, I strolled up Philosopher's Path. The stream runs along one side and the whole path is surrounded closely by sakura trees and people's homes, with the occasional cafe or tea shop on one side. I can imagine the early citizens strolling under the sakura trees and contemplating the brevity of life.

Before I realized it, I was at the base of the street leading to Ginkakuji! Ginkakuji isn't as visually impressive as Kinkakuji, but it's tranquil and the grounds are still lovely. In the water garden in front of the temple was a white egret, strutting on his stilt-like legs between the shrubs. People kept calling it a crane though, and maybe the egret fancied himself a crane because the way it withstood the noise and movement of the crowd, I think it knew exactly what it was doing.

By the time I rode the bus back to the heart of Kyoto, I was feeling peckish and decided to get some pickles before going back to the hostel for a shower. And then I met Mr. Peanut.

I was walking by the stands and found a peanut stand. As the proprietor plopped two peanuts into my hand, he asked in perfect English, "Where ...are...you from?" I said Washington, D.C., just because it's easier than explaining Maryland.

"D.C.!" said he. He then recited a good part of the Declaration of Independence and together we hummed a little of the anthem, saluting each other as people walked by, regarding these two nuts.

He loves America. "It has many...fine qualities. The population of Japan...is detrimental...to economic stability. America...it's big!"

True, I said. But Japan is also very beautiful. And safe! No guns, right?

He shrugged. Guns are still here. We both know it.

We said our goodbyes and wished each other a good day. By then, I was starting to feel tired, so I went back to the hostel to take a shower while everyone was still out. When I left the hostel again, I had one goal in mind: spot geisha.

About 7pm, I ducked into a noodle shop and got the bowl of vegetable udon that sank the Titanic. To work it off, I made my way up to Gion. I was about to round the corner to the alley when a business man walked around towards me and I had to step out of his way. But I was shocked to realize with him was a beautiful geisha! She wore a kimono in several shades of blue and a red and pink obi. She was on tall lacquered shoes, but she was still no taller than either the business man or myself. I didn't even have time to pull out my camera before they were gone. But I'd seen my first geisha! I'd been so close to her and I was both startled by her sudden appearence and stunned by the ornamental beauty of her clothes and makeup!

Around 8:45, I found myself outside a teahouse. I happened to look through the slated gate and into the open door in time to watch a young geisha in full hair and kimono and ghostly makeup pick up her phone to use it as a mirror while she touched up her eyes. The ancient world of the geisha and the tiny flat technology in her hand was a shocking clash of two worlds.

I stood outside the house, sure that someone would come out or go in. While I stood to the side away from the door, three other tourists noticed me. I told them to take a quick look, but when they looked in, the mamasan of the house was blocking the view. From time to time, they'd ask me "Is that the geisha?" but it would just be a maid or someone in a yukata.

Then a geisha approached from the alley across the street! One of the other guys took out his phone and began taking pictures quickly as she dashed past. At one point, he stuck his phone almost against her head and as she slid the gate shut she pressed it against the bars for one last shot.

I couldn't help it. I told him he should be more respectful. He brushed me off and showed me the pictures he got. While one was certainly very nice, I still disapprove of the manner in which he got it. I understood then why she'd been so quick (impressive considering how tight kimono are and how those shoes restrict much movement) and avoided looking up. For the rest of my time there, I kept a distance but tried in vain to get some pictures of geisha and maiko as they dashed and darted into tea houses. They are slick! And while I may not have any pictures to show off, I'll have those images in my memory forever.