2000 Temples, 1001 Gods

Taking the train to Kyoto, I was reminded of how much I love said form of transportation. Japan's super-modern trains are indeed quite the departure from Indian trains, but both certainly have their charms. It was a welcome break for all of us to sit for a couple of hours. Mountain ranges emerged in the distance soon after our departure from Tokyo. Jose and I realized that we were on the rail line that passes in front of Mt. Fuji, and I began an ardent lookout for the volcano. I'd looked down for a few minutes to write in my journal when a sixth sense prompted me to glance out the window. There she was, lording over the entire landscape, significantly more grand than anything surrounding her. Clouds floated about halfway up the mountain, the almost perfectly conical peak reaching into the heavens. Overexcited, I nearly slapped Jose on the top of the head to alert him. The middle-aged Japanese man beside me looked concerned that I might be having a seizure. In reality, though, I did have quite an emotional reaction on first glimpse of Fuji-san. There is something divinely beautiful about that mountain in all its grandeur and perfection.

We had booked our first night in Kyoto at a traditional ryokan and essentially ended up having one all to ourselves. The serenity and cleanliness of our tatami room marked a vivid contrast to our hostel in Tokyo. After eating, we all climbed into yukatas (traditional Japanese robes) and relaxed for nearly the rest of the night on our futons (traditional Japanese bedding laid out on the floor). Our one departure was a trip out for dinner. We were lucky enough to land at a Korean barbecue boasting every part of the cow on the menu. I went for the tongue, while Jose ordered the stomach. The tongue arrived in very thin slices and, despite being a bit chewy, was actually quite good. I would certainly eat it again. The stomach looked and tasted like stomach. It had the consistency of lard, and attempting to chew it was a futile operation. After 15 minutes of frustrated mastication, I finally gave up and swallowed the thing whole. I cannot say that I would try it again...

The main attractions in Kyoto are its some 2000 temples. I managed 6 of them - Higashi and Nishi Hongan-Ji, Yasaka, Sanjusangen-Do, Kiyamizu, and To-Ji. We all visited Nijo castle and the Imperial Gardens and were lucky enough to be in Kyoto for the main celebration of the Kyoto Gion Matsuri Festival. Had we tried to manage more, we may well all have collapsed in sheer exhaustion. Kyoto sits in a valley, which serves to insulate the heat that steadily builds there throughout the day. In addition, we're in the middle of Japan's rainy season, so the humidity is outrageous enough as it is. There were days in Kyoto that most certainly reminded me of the Delhi heat.

In any case, our first two temples, Higashi and Nishi Hongan-Ji, are Buddhist temples in the Jodo shin school. Nishi Hongan-Ji is the mother temple for Jodo shin Buddhism, while Higashi was built later as part of the breakaway sect predominated over by the Tokugawa shogunate. Higashi's temple is one of the largest wooden structures in the world, but was unfortunately under renovation while we were there. I was lucky enough while inside the cavernous interior of Nishi to run across 3 elderly women chanting their prayers for the day. I felt absolutely privileged to be in their presence.

Day 2 counted as one of my favorite in Japan, but for odd reasons. We began with a visit to the Yasaka shrine to check out free traditional performances occurring there in celebration of the Kyoto Gion festival. The vermilion-colored shrine sported a carnival-like atmosphere, complete with aromatic food stands...and beer. After lunch, Jose, Marlayna and I attacked our absolutely rank laundry while Marina and Katherine took a trip out to visit the golden temple, or Kinkakuji. Laundry time actually turned out to be pretty entertaining, as an Australian school group showed up at the breadbox-sized laundromat just ahead of us. We thus spent several hours sitting on stools on the sidewalk, solving logic puzzles, and waiting for our clothes. It was one of those moments that was just off-color and unique - I'm sure the Kyoto-ites driving by wondered what in the world those gaijin were doing chilling on the side of the street.

The next day took us to Sanjusangen-Do and Kiyamizu. These rank among some of the most impressive structures I've ever seen. Sanjusangen-Do is affliliated with Tendai Buddhism and boasts 1001 statues of Kannon, the goddess of mercy in its 120 meter hall, the longest wooden hall in Japan. 500 life-size statues flank either side of an enormous central figure, and all are guarded by 28 Japanese deities in the foreground. The entire display is exceedingly impressive and like nothing else in the world. It took over 100 years in the 12th and 13th centuries to carve the 1001 statues. This stuff is OLD.To make things even cooler, the back hallway of the building was once used for archery tournaments. Kiyamizu rests atop a cliff above Kyoto and thus provides a fantastic panoramic vista of the city and surrounding mountains.

The walk to the temple takes one up a narrow, winding residential road and then through an area that has been turned into a tourist haven. We were actually really excited to run across souvenir shops at this point, as they marked the first we'd seen in Japan. In any case, the torii gate guarding the temple suddenly rises above you at the top, and once in the complex, it affords gorgeous views. The famous Love Temple is part of the complex and with its county fair-esque atmosphere seemed oddly incongruent with the rest of the temple, but was entertaining nonetheless. Here, a life-size Donnie Darko-esque rabbit accompanies the Japanese goddess of love (http://media.photobucket.com/image/Jishu-jinja%20shrine%20rabbit/AngelicCross/Kyoto/Kiyomizu%20Temple/RabbitnearOkuninushinoMikoto.jpg).

The last day brought the Gion Festival parade, where we found ourselves amidst an enormous mass of humanity, watching 32 enormous floats pulled and carried down the street by every sort of man, young and old. To be honest, I'm not exactly sure what I was watching, but the festival lasts for a month and has been a staple in Kyoto, even through the rough times. It was a privilege to just be in the middle of it. After squeezing our way through the parade crowds, we toured Nijo Castle and its grounds, the most remarkable aspect of the castle being its hummingbird floors, designed to squeak under footfall to warn the emperor of the arrival of potential intruders. At the end of the day (e.g. around 4pm), we all dragged ourselves, maimed and dripping in sweat, to To-Ji temple, home of Japan's largest 5-storey pagoda. To-Ji also boasted two halls with an impressive array of enormous Buddha shrines. By this point, it was raining and we all had at least one bum leg, so we called it a day and shrank back to our ryokan.

One final notable aspect of Kyoto was its food. I have yet to have a bad meal on this trip, but the stuff in Kyoto was, in my opinion, exceptional. One night found us at an all you can eat and drink beer garden on the top of a hotel roof overlooking the sun setting red into the Kyoto mountains; another night found us stumbling into a hole in the wall that turned out to be an exceptional traditional restaurant. We sat on the floor enjoying outstanding miso, salad, teriyaki chicken, shrimp tempura, and sushi. We weren't exactly sure what kind of fish lay on our plates, but Marina, Marlayna and I gobbled them all down. I later found out that one, an odd fluffy-looking white fish, was actually sea snake. I was pleased to add that to my bizarre foods list for the trip...all the more so because I did not have to know I was eating it!

Our next stop is Nagasaki, the city that caught all of our hearts in one way or another, and not just because of its atomic fate. I'll write about her soon, but as a preview...hole-in-the-wall jazz club, the proprietor of which, a Mr. Mizaguchi, moved to Nagasaki as an infant in May of 1946. Fat Man had wreaked its havoc just 9 months before.