I saw exactly ONE graffito during our entire stay in Japan. Very refreshing—optimistic even. We did find two small pieces of trash on Fuji-san, but that was about all I saw.
There were virtually no vacant lots in Japan. Every possible piece of flat land was given over to rice or vegetable farming. There were lots of 50 foot square rice paddies. I don't have a clue how they harvest all of the small plots.
Just about every house sports several topiaries and highly manicured gardens; even houses in the city have flower pots at their street entrances. It seems like a pleasant national pastime.
Pachinko parlors have changed radically. We walked into a parlor in Fujiyoshida (near Sengen Shrine, the start of the Yoshida trail up Fuji-san), and were met with a wall of sound. Instead of hearing the sounds of balls hitting pins and the occasional bonus sound, it was overamp'd rock. We left after about 90 seconds....
I had half-expected to find Japanese-style toilets everywhere, but instead found Toto everything, most with music, perfume, and bum washers. It DID teach me the kanji for big and little -- they were dual flush toilets. The toilet paper wasn't anything to brag about, though. I figured out that the idiomatic translation of the Japanese "toilet paper" in English was "doesn't work, bring your own." That's close enough to what I actually thought at the time.
We sampled most of the local food, but my favorite had to be our yakitori dinner in Kyoto. The proprietor wasn't sure what to make of us, but by the second carafe of sake and the 15th skewer, he warmed up a little. He actually shook my hand after we paid the bill. Ah, food on a stick. What could be more American?
The search for yakitori led us into two interesting bars. The first was a Korean barbeque. It was tasty, and the sake worked, but a little too meat-oriented. We moved on to the next red lantern. Steve & Adam weren't even sure it was a bar, it was so tiny. Fortunately, four patrons were leaving, so we had a place to sit. They only served pickles as bar food. The proprietress insisted on sending Cathy sweets after Steve told her I had left my wife at home. That was the last random red lantern we tried; Steve worked on finding the hiragana for "yakitori" on red lanterns after that, especially since none of us wanted to eat octopus balls (seemingly popular, but octopi are too intelligent for our tastes).
The hoto dinner (HUGE noodles in pumpkin broth) was interesting, too. We passed on the wild boar and bear toppings.
As always, unexpected interactions with the people were some of the best parts of the trip. In one of the first shops we went into at the start of the Philosopher's Path, one of the clerks dropped something, and the other caught it in midair. "Nice catch," said the other. Obvious fans. So we talked baseball for a minute, even though they only spoke enough English to tell us their favorite teams.
We had a nice conversation with a shopkeeper who sold a yukata to Steve. She even modeled it for him and showed him how to tie the two sashes involved. When we stepped into the store, she rushed a glass of ice water to me. I didn't think I was looking THAT bad. It was just a nice thing to do that ingratiated me to her at once. I bought a beautiful green silk fan from her (Kyoto is Fan Central). Several times, when people asked us where we were from (once an old man on the street!), they were excited to hear "Portland." Kyoto does remind me of Portland, except there are more bike riders and fewer bike lanes in Kyoto.
I can't close without mentioning the largest wooden building in the world. The temple's name was Higashi Hongan-ji, and it was a nice ten-minute walk from our hostel. The monks started chanting at 7 AM. Steve & I discovered the chanting by accident, but we dragged Adam there the next morning. I went alone the third day. Very... moving is not the right word; it lit me up like a Christmas tree. The Holy Presence was most assuredly there.
Recommendations
Travel in the spring or fall. In mid-July it was oppressively hot and humid, unless it was raining. Then it was hot, humid, and wet. We only went in the summer to catch Fuji-san during the climbing season.
Kyoto. If and when I go back to Japan, I will forgo Tokyo for Kyoto. It has no international airport, but the Shinkansen runs from Tokyo Station in a little over two hours. It's surrounded by hills on three sides. Many of the temples and shrines we visited were nestled in the east foothills, which made for interesting gardens and walking paths. The city was as green as Washington; small wonder, given the rainfall we experienced. To compare it with San Francisco or Portland is not far off, but Kyoto is much better cared-for by its residents.
I wholeheartedly recommend K's House Hostels in Japan. They were inexpensive, clean, well located (at Mt. Fuji & Kyoto, anyway), well equipped, and the staff was first-rate. The Kyoto location had an attached cafe, and served a reasonable buffet as ballast for a day's touring. Next time (I should live so long) I will climb Fuji in August (after the monsoons), carrying some good foul-weather gear and an oxygen canister. We used diamoxx for the altitude, but Adam was having loss of feeling in his hands by Station 7.
Credits
I planned it, Steve acted as our liaison, and Adam ran the blog and generally kept us in touch, at the expense of his dragging a laptop along, and thus being susceptible to work demands. Steve's command of the language and his unassuming manner earned him lots of smiles and compliments on his Japanese.
Great trip.
No comments:
Post a Comment