Kyoto, Japan (Apr 22-25)

Kyoto

My Impressions of Kyoto
This is the Paris of the East. It’s a friendly, spiritual place. It’s a place for walking. My cab drivers here have all engaged me in conversation, though there English was pretty much non-existent. On the way to Sushi, one told me that even more than sushi, he liked Kentucky Fried Chicken and Starbucks. We both got a laugh out of that.

This place is very different from Tokyo. It has been built with a gentle hand. The main train station houses almost all of the large shopping centers. Its big, but not ugly or badly done. All else is a fluid mixture of temple, shrine, garden and buildings. Over 100 temples just on the tourist map. They vary in size and magnificence, but all that I have seen have been beautiful.

Day 1
The bullet train was smooth and somewhat exciting. Going 160 miles an hour on the ground is not something you do every day. The first temple we saw was Sanjusangendo, a Buddhist Temple with 1000 golden statues of Kannon, the goddess of mercy. The temple was founded in 1164 and its present structures date from 1266. The main hall, which houses the statues, is over 100 meters long and Japan's longest wooden structure. Each of the statues were slightly different, for example some with the eyes totally open, some somewhat closed.

After that, we walked to Kiyomizudera Temple, one of the highlights of our time in Japan. The temple and its 10 or so buildings are set on the side of a mountain overlooking the entire city. A view juxtaposes wooden temple, trees and city beautifully. It is being touted as one of the 7 New Wonders of the World.

Day 2
Sleep was difficult, and I woke up exhausted for the tour the next morning. We saw Nijo Castle, a Shogun palace. The boards in the palace all squeaked intentionally to warn the Shogun as people approached. Never can be too careful with those Ninjas lurking about. The Castle was built almost 1000 years ago, and the paintings were restored over a 2 year process due to their complexity.

Kinkakuji Temple or “Golden Pavilion” was built by a 29 year old Shogun who retired early to dedicated himself to good works. He built the impressive Pavilion when he was 37 and gave it to Shinto caretakers upon his death. It was exceptionally beautiful and redone recently with over 20 KG of gold.

The Imperial Palace was the headquarters of government for Japan when Kyoto was the capital. From the outside, it looked similar to the Imperial Palace in Tokyo, but now we could go inside. It was impressive and beautiful.

At night, I decided to have a high-end Sushi meal. My hotel recommended a place called Naka Ichi about 20 minutes away. It was a set menu, so I was a bit worried, but as soon as I arrived and all my fears were relieved. I ordered the 10,000 yen meal, (about $80) and sat back for the best Sushi meal I have had in a while. I knew I was in the right place because of the 12 other people in the small restaurant, 8 were couples where the man was impressively dressed and 20-30 years older than the beautiful girl to his side. This was where rich playboys took their young girlfriends to impress them – the sushi had to be good. And it was.

The first course was a salmon slushy mixture that was awesome. Then some sashimi (not sure what kind of fish it was, but it was good), then soup, then they started with the endless amount of Sushi. A French guy named Ewen sat next to me. The only other westerner in the place and he was bald with a beard (like me) and worked on structured products at Citicorp in London, a job similar to what I had done at Goldman for my last year there. We talked for a long time as we enjoyed our Sushi. He had accidentally gone into the place next door and they had basically booted him. Before he left, he saw a beautiful girl who he thinks was Geisha. Most of the restaurants along the secluded street were most probably private clubs. Hotels sent their premium guests to Naka Ichi because I they are one of the only ones that would serve “our kind”. I left and went home to sleep.

My Last Day
Let me tell you of my journey today. I woke late. Sleep has been hard to get at night, not because of anxiety, but more because the hotel rooms are stuffy and its noisy outside. Also, though Glenn has been the greatest of travel companions, it’s tough to sleep in the same room with somebody if that room is stuffy and noisy.

I woke with an open mind. I went up to the Ginkakuji temple (Silver Pavilion) and also the start of the Philosopher’s Path. I started with an indifference to what I would see, only that I felt I would follow the right path. Ginkakuji had beautiful gardens, many parts covered in a warm, furry, green moss. I stood for a while, looking out past the moss, past a fence and into a forest of slender, tall trees.

I left the Temple and walked along the Philosopher’s Path, a part stone, part gravel path along a canal, surrounded by cherry blossom trees in a northeast suburb of Kyoto. The architecture of each building blended with a unique Japanese flow and mystique. The canal was shallow, flowing moderately, peacefully. People and bicycles occasionally drifted by. A few bridges down, a sign pointed east, up the hill, directing towards a Temple. I followed the path, found the temple, but it was closed. I continued up the hill, as the homes quickly turned steeper, more aged, more beautiful. At the top of the street, a ways up the hill, there was a house that looked more like a shrine. It blended into the wooded side of the mountain. The air felt cooler here. I entered the woods and a deep calm silence covered me. I stopped and rested.

I walked down the hill and back to the Path. Two woman walked in front of me. I passed them and heard a enthusiastic conversation about a previous trip they had been on. On that trip, everything they had packed had wrinkled except their jeans, so they spent the whole trip in those unwrinkled jeans. I heard them chatting back and forth as they fell into the distance. I stopped at another temple and meditated. Two tourists looked at a map deciding their next visit site. I continued on, stopping again at Eikando Zenrin-Ji Temple. I took off my shoes at an empty sanctuary entrance and meditated in the corner. When I opened my eyes, ten others were praying in the room. I watched them, focused, saying things, bowing. I walked around a bit and heard “Amida”, the name of the Buddha Eikan’s believe saves us all. Their prayer is the recitation and repetition of the name. They believe that if anyone says the name of Amida from the heart, he will be reborn in the Pure Land Paradise and become a Buddha. I entered the lavishly decorated sanctuary and saw a young monk reciting “Amida” and occasionally hitting a spherical bong. Two French tourists watched as well. It was mesmerizing and spiritual.

I left and walked home, stopping to admire the homes, the beautiful integration of old a new, nature and building, the holy and the daily life.

Impressions of Japan
So, in the two cities I saw two of the sides of Japan- each impressive and beautiful in its own right. Like the moon that you might see as crescent on one day and full another, Japan is one whole, that I can only hope to see glimpses of in my short trip here. I can’t possibly hope to understand this ancient, complicated, and spiritual place. But it was fun trying.