JAPAN

A THURSDAY LIKE NO OTHER DAY

I am still uncertain as to whether I have retained any ability to converse normally, in a language that would be understood, thus throughout today’s blog, I will periodically do a practice dialogue, just to keep in shape. I’ll ask questions of myself that I may well have asked had I been reading my own blog for the first time, if that makes any sense.

RECREATING HOME: So often when I am away I look for creating new routines that stand in for the absence of the ordinary. For instance, today I found a little spot called Rosie’s Café. It had the English words spelled out for imbecile foreigners who don’t speak Japanese. That would include me.

At Rosie’s, you could buy a set breakfast for 600 Y (a touch under $6). Here’s what you got today <-- Notice the little Japanese touch – a nice morning veggie salad. It was the OJ substitute. The entire meal was absolutely delicious –the baked goods were light and the coffee was deeply satisfying. Plus they understood my complicated request for some hot milk on the side for the coffee. Rosie’s became an instant winner and so now Rosie’s is going to be part of my morning routine. Q: How come you always blog about food? A: Because I like to read about food. And I like to photograph food. Food is often in my thoughts. Q: And the weather – how was the weather on this day? A: It was wondrously perfect: sunny, not too hot, just lovely. Thanks for asking, it is important to the story of this day. GARDEN NUMBER ONE:






In my morning walk I came across a private traditional Japanese garden. The attendant was selling entrance tickets at a hefty 1000 Y, but what are you going to do, not spend the money after you’ve come all this way to Japan and you enjoy gardens so much? Of course I am going to plunk down the cash, albeit with some reluctance. It is really expensive, even for here. Garden fees run anywhere from 100 to a maximum of 500 Y if there’s a shrine or two thrown in. Here, it’s just a garden.

But it was a pretty decent garden. Like in others here, the emphasis was not on flowers (blooms, if they appear at all, are limited to rhododendrons or irises – each having a short blooming life, and so basically Japanese gardens are flowerless). What was visually striking was the combination of green tones, the careful arrangements, the inclusion of water and the positioning of rocks. The play of all this on the senses was really quite astonishing. I was almost forgiving of the entry fee.

PERFECTION:

It was still reasonably early as I made my way to the first shrine in a complex of major and minor shrines. This one, the Konchi-In Temple, was off to the side, off the main path.

The attendant saw that I carried the map and brochure from the private garden. He asked if I liked it (in pretty decent, if a little halting, English). I said yes, actually it was nice enough, but I found it a touch expensive (clearly I had not reconciled myself with letting go of the $10 for it). He acknowledged that indeed it was ridiculously overpriced. He himself had never been there, even though it was all of maybe 100 meters away. He asked to see the brochure and map and I told him to keep both. He seemed deeply fascinated by them and for me, after all, it was just another brochure to take back home and forget about. He was so pleased with this! He dug into his desk and came forth with all sorts of booklets and pamphlets on the Konchi-In garden and temple and told me to keep these in exchange. I found these to be lovely and informative and so I accepted and went inside.





Let me put myself in the mood of that moment: I am completely alone there. Why, I wonder? It is the most beautiful place! It is not large, but it has all the elements that make for a magnificent perfection. The temple stands to the side and its rooms have the ornamented gold screens with flowers and cranes -- so typical of these structures. The rooms open out onto a Zen garden. I have read a lot about these and a year ago I visited the Zen of all Zens – a garden reputed to tower over the rest. But here, in this corner, I found my own perfection.

Imagine! To be sitting alone on the steps of the temple, looking out onto the peaceful arrangement of raked stones with an artful backdrop of variously shaped rocks… to be listening to the quiet, so that the history of the place, for the first time for me really, could come through and make an impression…to be transfixed by the utter serenity of the scene (it felt like getting a mind massage to get rid of the knots and toxins)…such peace is so hard to come by, and here, it just fell in my lap. It positively chokes you up when you are experiencing it.

Only one other person is on the premises. An older man is clearing the path – raking, sweeping, moving quietly among the shrubbery. He is close enough that I go up to tell him that this is the most beautiful of places, the most special of moments. He says in English “thank you.”

I find it hard to leave, but eventually I do. I go back to the gate attendant who seems happy to see me again. He asks me in his halting English “You liked it, yes? You met abbot, the famous priest of Nan-ji?” I look puzzled. I met no one. Should I? Is it expected? Does one sign a book or something? The attendant persists: “You met him! He told me. He said to give you present.” And he gives me a collection of pictures from the garden and temple.

I had no idea the sweeper was a man of great stature. He seemed so approachable, even to me.

I don’t know why his gesture meant so much to me. Possibly I was already overwhelmed. That extra touch of generosity and kindness just put me over the top. One more word and I would have burst into tears or had some other uncontrollable emotional reaction, so I just left. But I’ll go back some early morning before I leave Kyoto.

OTHE TEMPLES, OTHER ZEN MOMENTS:




Yes, yes, there were other temples, some more famous than Konchi-In. I am including some photos to compare and contrast. (I can’t resist, though I am mindful of overblogging here.) In some, the Zen raked pebbles approach a complexity that is quite remarkable. The one (pictured right below) in Ginkakuji stands out. And, of course, there is always a water component to the display. But, this not being a travel guide, I wont run through them. I did think that this last garden had terrific moss as part of the composition. Indeed, to the side, I found the following informative little display [it says: “VIP: Very Important Moss.” Cute.]





I didn’t want to clutter the blog with too many photos which have little meaning to the reader and so I skipped putting in ones of the real garden sweepers: they can be found everywhere. Most interesting is, I think, their sweeping of streams. They literally wipe down the stones under the water. Of course, the paths and the gardens themselves, including the forested parts, are immaculate. The sense of order is absolute. Nothing is out of place. Living in the crowded chaos of the world outside, this must be such welcome relief to a Japanese visitor. To me – it is sheer marvel.

THE PHILOSOPHY OF A WALK:

I know Kyoto is not the only city with a Philosophers' Path. But the one here is quite wonderful. In a congested city, it manages to quietly meander its way alongside a stream over a significant stretch. Occasional benches offer a chance to contemplate. Of course, I assume that philosophers of the past did not merely sit and think their great thoughts. Most likely they had an ongoing discourse, to be picked up again when next they found themselves here. But this is a different era and so we offer our own style of contemplation. Consider these three examples from my passing walk among those with great thoughts. There was the comfortable thinker:



The one who looked the part:



And the artist:



And where would I fit in? My thoughts, as usual, were all over the place. Perhaps they did not match those of past great minds who have walked this path. On the other hand, they were one step ahead of the first guy.

Q: So is that all the food we’re going to get? Weren’t you hungry?
A: One doesn’t think of food when one is achieving inner peace. I did buy these sesame buns with sweet bean paste. See what I mean? It somehow sounds odd out of context, but I sampled some here and I love them! Dinner hasn’t been eaten yet. Maybe I’ll blog about it, maybe I wont. Depends on the hour – I have work scheduled for early tomorrow.

Q: Do you find yoursefl missing flowers, what with all those trees to look at in the garden?
A: The flowers make an appearance in the flower shops.



And who would not love the trees?



Q: Were you the only foreigner around, sort of like in Nagano and Matsushima?
A: Oh, heavens no! They are not numerous yet (wait until summer!), but foreigners are part of Kyoto – Americans have a significant expat community here (I am recalling my very first posts of the blog where I was reading Pico Iyer’s book on Kyoto). And there are the handfuls of tourists here and there – I’ve heard quite a bit of Russian which just strikes me as odd (I don’t know why, but it does). And then there are the Europeans and Australians.

Q: Do they stand out much? I’m always curious how foreign visitors handle cultural differences when they are visiting…
A: It seems to me that all “westerners” stand out in Japan because, by comparison, they (sorry, WE) are such slobs! The elegance of the average Japanese is striking. Women wear nylons on their walks through these gardens and temples. Men are in slacks and blazers. Americans cannot stop wearing shorts (I am not one of them!). I do feel like a wrinkled mess here and I neglected to bring anything made of silk so there’s a mismatch right then and there. I dutifully do my own laundry every single night and so it’s not the cleanliness that’s at issue, but being in a big Japanese city always makes me feel unkempt.
The bigger question is how much SHOULD one conform to the standards of the host country? One might argue that we all have risen ABOVE the bourgeois concepts of appearance in search of higher virtues, but the argument rings false to me. I think we just don’t care about conforming – we like to assert our individual independence. That’s fine, but to a point. These shorts, especially on cooler days, HAVE to go. They just are WRONG for anywhere but the beach. Urban is urban. One should adjust, it seems. And I do really try to not look frumpy. But next to a Japanese, I am always on the side of frump.