stairs above the city

Friday, I had signed up to go to Osaka to see a 1950s black & white Japanese movie that had been subtitled. This was an activity for free offered by the CIE (Center for International Education) at Kansai Gaidai University. But my friends (Daniel, Kara, Niklas, Arum, and Tommy) were going to Osaka to see a current movie so I dropped the free and understandable movie for a much more expensive (1500 yen with a student discount; ~ 12.35) and unintelligible movie (due to my lack of Japanese ability). The movie was Letters from Iwa Jima (or いわじまからてがみ – Iwa Jima kara tegami), and unlike the U.S. release of this movie, there were no subtitles (because the people here, strangely enough, know Japanese).

And what better prologue is there to talking about a movie about than a tale of a failure of communication.

The other day I went grocery shopping with my friend from South Korea, Arum. She and I bought a large (5 kilo) bag of rice. But other than that, I was hoping to buy sugar with which I planned on sweetening some tea. I bought sugar (or what I thought was sugar), and returned back to the dormitory to try it out. Now, I have, for one reason or another (perhaps illiteracy, perhaps sheer lack) I have been unable to find black tea with which to make sweet tea (which was my goal all along). So I bought some organic barley tea the other day, which was pictured on ice in a tropical locale. I am quite certain that I bought this simply because of the colorful packaging and picture resembling what I know and love as tea, not because I believed there would be any resemblance. So I was brewing up this barley tea (strange, eh) and began adding some sugar. I added a few spoonfuls, stirred it and brought out a spoonful to taste its sweetness. I gulped it down, and thought to myself, “My, this barley tea sure is salty.” Only after a few moments did it dawn on me that what I thought to be sugar was actually salt and I was salting my tea and not adding sugar to it. It should be noted that this mishap was not for lack of Japanese knowledge (I know the words for sugar and salt and can read both… at least I think I can), but was out of mere carelessness.

Now before I talk about Osaka, I should do a bit to clear up some confusion. I think some have the impression that I am studying in Osaka. This is both true and false. Kansai Gaidai University is in Osaka Prefecture (akin to the US’ counties or states), but it is not in Osaka city (which was I am referring to whenever I say “Osaka”). Rather, KG and my Seminar House (the dorm where I live) are located in a city in between Osaka and Kyoto named Hirakata.

So we arrived in Osaka and found the theater (on the 8th and 9th floors of a very tall building) and bought our tickets. We had about an hour and a half before the movie, so we went out to buy some dinner. And what did we find but a Subway (yes, the sandwich shop). So we indulged our (mostly) western tastes in something familiar (I had a vegetable sandwich that was delightful) and inexpensive. Could it be that a western chain is cheaper in the 2nd most expensive city in the world, I think so.

After lingering for a few minutes after dinner for some of our kids to get their ice cream fix, we returned to the theater.

The movie, which was almost all in Japanese, was largely incomprehensible (in terms of dialogue), but this didn’t keep me from understanding the story or what was going on with the characters (thanks in part to some great acting)… I could even deduce some of the dialogue even if I couldn’t catch many words.

Perhaps one of the most interesting parts of the movie going experience was how quiet it was. In the silences before the opening preview, I didn’t hear anyone shift in their seat, munch on popcorn (they had it, but must have been eating with, pardon my terrible stereotype, ninja-like stealth), whisper to their neighbor. This seemed to be the atmosphere throughout the movie though, because of the tragic nature of the film, my friends reported that some were crying (I was tearing up quite a bit too).

After this experience, we didn’t know what to do. The night was young (~9:30) and we were in a major metropolitan city at the peak of our youth. But we had no idea what to do, so we returned to Hirakata and found an izakaya near campus.

As I think I’ve mentioned before, an izakaya is the equivalent of a Japanese tavern. You sit on the floor around a low table and can order all sorts of food (from sashimi to French fries) and drinks. I also commented before that Japan seems to close down early. This is not actually the case. There are many of these izakayas throughout all neighborhoods I have traveled through, but they are not the “bumping” clubs and bars of the west, but quiet hangouts open late.

My friends, Daniel (who can't take a good picture it seems), Arum (who is afraid of having her picture taken), and Tommy (a very funny guy) at the izakaya on Friday night.

We had the second floor to ourselves, and we ordered some food and drinks and spent a couple of great hours talking and laughing and having a good time.

On Saturday, I took the Sabbath to rest and catch up on some homework. This was nice.

On Sunday, I went with my friend Kara to Nara. Connecting to another train line in Kyoto, we arrived in Nara in about an hour. Going to Nara, I expected two things – some deer and a giant Buddha. We found these things came in larger proportions than we realized.

Not ten minutes out the station and we spotted the first of what would be many many free-roaming deer. Some children were feeding two deer alongside a path. Nara is famous for its deer which roam freely throughout the very large park district of the city. The reason for this is that there is a local legend that the god of the famous Shinto shrine in the area, Kasuga Taisha, rode in on a white deer. From then on, deer have been revered here, leading to a tribe of literally thousands of deer that just hang out here.







After walking a bit further, we began to realize how many deer there were – lots! And they are all very tame and people-friendly (as people feed them). We could go up to deer and pet them without them flinching or even seeming to care. It was very cool to see this kind of interspecies community. I wonder what other interspecies communities are possible. Or, perhaps, I wonder how interspecies communities can be brought back to prevalence. Our ancestors of old had to live in harmony with the forces of the wild, while now we strive to keep all things wild outside the city gates, cordoning ourselves off from “nature.” This gate, of course, is illusory.

a deer stands to pose with a group for photo

We arrived at Todaiji, which features the two guardian gods I mentioned in my previous post, only in larger form, and the largest wooden structure in the world. This massive temple is the largest wooden structure in the world.



The temple, being so big, houses the largest Buddha in Japan (Daibutsu – literally, Big Buddha), which simply has to be seen to be believed. Kara and I stopped at the massive figure, made a prayer for the awakening of the Compassionate One within all beings, and continued around the Buddha and his many attendant Bodhisattvas (this a term assigned to those who, at the gates of Nirvana, step back to show others the way).



We returned to the station to find an ATM and grab a quick lunch (Donburi) before going to the National Museum, which houses a great collection of ancient Buddhist statues and art. It’s very hard to look at a figure in front of one and know (in that truly knowing way) something to be 1,200 years old. It is hard to even imagine my own twenty years, let alone the years of many beings great and small that have come and gone in the lifetime of a wooden carving of Buddha, or how many statues will come and go in the lifetime of the earth, or how many earths will come and go in the course of time.




We walked around Nara for a while, admiring the deer, stopped in a Kasuga Taisha shrine for a moment, and, with tired legs, returned to the train station to get back to Hirakata by 6:30.

Unfortunately I spent Sunday night much like Saturday night, by myself and bored. I spent a good while trying to figure out what to do Monday (Monday was a national holiday for Foundation Day which commemorates… I don’t know what). Having done temple after temple after temple in my sightseeing and spending so much time in the city, I wanted none of that.

I began to long for trees and fresh air, having taken for granted growing up in a house in the woods where the trees greeted me every morning in every season right outside the living. So in the morning, I put a book of poetry in my pack and took off, determined to hike up Daimonji, a hill above Kyoto with the kanji (Chinese character) for “big” carved into its face.

I arrived at Ginkakuji, behind of which the trail began, and, with little difficulty, was able to find the trailhead, despite the lack of signs to it. I found myself amongst others, almost all Japanese (which is usually the case, though occasionally at touristy places there will be another foreigner in the crowd) of all ages (8-80) hiking up and down the mountain (it’s not technically a mountain). As I hiked up, every person I passed greeted me with
a smile and a “Konnichiwa” (Good afternoon). This had been the first time I had been greeted by strangers while out and about.

The climb was tough, but it wasn't long, as I made it to the top in 45 minutes. I sat down and drank some cool tea and ate some snacks and enjoyed the breathtaking view. It was so broad, it was impossible to take a good picture.



I spent about an hour or so just hanging around, sitting, watching, and leisurely reading through a book of poems my friend Mike Neely had given me before my departure.

If you could turn your heart
into a cowstall,
Christ would be born again on earth!

-Angelius Silesius

I continued up the open side of the mountain to a path that continued on into the woods above. I did not know where this led, as there was no map, so I began following it out of curiosity. I made my way along the path which seemed to follow the ridgeline until I came to a clearing with benches where a couple of people were sitting down and talking. They made room for me and I sat to rest and look out again, this time being able to see another city on the other side of some hills from Kyoto. After a while, the man to my right pulled out some chocolate covered peanuts from his pack and passed them around for all of us to enjoy. This was a great snack, and I was impressed with the atmosphere of kinship among hikers.

After a while, I decided that while the trail continued I ought to head back, as I did not want to be lost in the forest after sunset. I returned and got back to Hirakata in time to make some spaghetti for dinner.

So far this week has been pretty easy and fun (it's already Friday tomorrow!). My classes are fairly easy, though Japanese keeps me challenged. My class, "Death in East Asian Thought," has largely been a disappointment, as the professor is rather spacy and jumps around so much there that is no seeming coherence. The class is more a gathering of people who read an article and then superficially "discuss" it (while being interuppted by the professor every other word) without any clear question or framework. I'm still hoping I can drive the class in certain directions and ask good questions to the class to compensate for the lack of such things on the part of the professor.

And last night I went to a small cafe where a couple of people from KG were playing guitars and singing (including the Italian guy who lives next door to me). It was a fun outing, but the highlight was probably when one of the guys (who is Scottish with a strong Scottish accent) played an acoustic version of "Wannabe" by the Spice Girls. Yes, that was quite hilarious.

And tomorrow is the beginning of the weekend. During the day Saturday I'm learning to roll sushi, so that will be quite awesome (I'll bring back that skill to the states... I also ought to figure out Donburi and Okonomiyaki, both of which should be easy enough). I've also already made plans on Saturday night so I won't be left doing nothing (though so far the plans have not progressed beyond "getting together with friends and doing something"). And I was going to a pizza party that my speaking partner invited me to tomorrow night, but that, unfortunately has been cancelled. Alas, I will find someting.

That's about all for now and from here. I might do another quick update on Saturday with something. Until then, さようなら (sayoonara).

the land of a thousand temples

This was quite an eventful weekend. After the first week of classes, I dropped my schoolwork and went off to explore the area.

On Friday I went to Kyoto with some people who invited me to go along with them to see Kyomizu-dera, a famous temple. After leaving campus at one, we didn’t get to Kyoto until around two (we walked to the rail station from campus – about a mile). The others had not eaten lunch and wanted to eat okonomiyaki, so we stopped at a place near the rail station in Kyoto. We had been fortunate to run into a couple of Japanese students on campus who were going to Kyomizu as well. It is always helpful to have native speakers when going to, say, a restaurant, to translate for waiters or interpret the menu and whatnot. The okonomiyaki place was pretty reasonably priced (700-800 yen for a large serving) and had a lot of options. Two of us had already eaten lunch, so we decided we’d split one as a mid-afternoon snack. Whereas at the other places I’ve gone for okonomiyaki, they cooked it for you, here we were given a bowl with all the ingredients and let loose to cook it ourselves. We were pretty hesitant through the whole process, and Joanna (the girl with whom I split the dish) and I failed completely in flipping it. In spite of this, everything was edible and it was quite good. But after all this okonomiyaki, I’m ready to give it up for a few weeks.






By the time we were finished, it was really late… almost four o’clock. We rushed towards Kyomizu, hoping to catch it before the sunset and the gates closed. The temple is famous for two reasons. The first is that it was built on the side of the mountain on a wooden platform on stilts, which is pretty impressive. The second is that from the mountain there is a spring that feeds three bamboo chutes that pour down into a pool. It is said that if you drink from all three of them, you will have health, wealth, and love. They have long-handled ladels with which visitors can drink from the springs.

The group split up on the trek through the streets up the hill to the temple, but I arrived as the sun was setting. I was able to get in and see the temple and Kyoto as in the last light of the day.








At the bottom of the temple is the spring, and I wasn’t about to refuse the water after all that effort. So I drank from the middle one. It was only later that I was informed that one must drink from all three to get the blessings of all… turns out I drank from the one for health, which is fine by me.




On Saturday I met Daniel and Daniel (yes, there are two… and both from Sweden; in fact every other guy here is named Daniel. It’s a strange and perplexing phenomena, but Japan is apparently a haven for gaijin named Daniel) at Hirakata-shi Station (after a fairly long and awkard two-mile walk from the Seminar House) to head to Osaka. This weekend was setsubun, which I believe marks the beginning of spring in the traditional Japanese calendar. On this day, people throw beans (which represent bad fortune and spirits) in a kind of purging ritual, and then they eat them. Actually, the plan was to go to a temple that was holding an event of this kind. But apparently we were given some misinformation and things weren’t happening as thought. So we were left to go shopping.

Don't let yourself be confused. They are floors and not circles. And they don’t descend through the earth, but ascend towards the heavens in a vain attempt to touch them.

The first floor of hell is the computing department. Here, poor souls are bombarded with a constant stream of terribly similar pop-music and choruses of “Irrashaimase!” (“Welcome to the store,”) thrown from every direction. They wander over tile floors underneath thick clouds of tacky red, yellow and blue signs advertising eternal sales on things no one will be able to use.

After seeing this, I ascended to the second floor, and the third, and the fourth and on up to the seventh, only to find the same, wretched state with one minor difference, this was where they sold electric shavers and batteries, this is where they sell televisions, this is where they sell cell phones. Perhaps this is the most depressing part of hell, it is not imaginatively constructed like in Dante, with a variety of themes in each new realm, but, rather, it is all the same drab and lifeless abode in which the phrase “shop ‘til you drop” sounds like salvation, for at least in dropping off, one can get out.

This was a difficult few hours for me, but I was able to maintain some level of exterior calm amidst the inner turmoil. This was a clear indicator that there is still much work to be done there, however.


a pillar of peace in an ocean of madness

After this, Daniel, Daniel, and I decided to go back home, even though it was maybe only three. We were tired and hungry and wanted to get out. So we went back to Hirakata and ate some okonomiyaki and then returned to campus. One Daniel (the one not in any of the pictures in my posts thus far) went off to study while the other Daniel came back to the Seminar House with me to hang out and eat candy. We sat and talked through dusk. While one would think that spending an afternoon cooped up in the dorm while Japan is just beyond the gates (well, it’s actually in the room to, albeit hidden under all the English spoken), this was quite nice. Daniel is becoming quite a good friend. It was 9:30 or so when we were hungry again and ready to get food. Generally speaking, it’s been my experience that Japan closes down fairly early in the night. But perhaps it’s just because it is such a quiet place. Walk through a neighborhood at any hour of the day and aside from a crow hollering (did I mention that their crows speak a different language?) or a cat meowing (cats, on the other hand, still speak cat), there is nary a sound to be heard.

We knew there was an izakaya (the Japanese version of a tavern) nearby, so we decided we’d go there and get some food. Of course, izakayas are meant for drinking and snacking more than eating a full meal. But we got some food (I got some kind of vegetable pizza, which was nice because that’s a rarity in this country), and left and headed back. Even though the day seemed a bust, it ended on a good note.

I have become convinced that if I want to do sightseeing, I am best off doing so on my own. I tend to travel from place to place faster than most and move slower once there. This unusual rhythm tends to not work in group settings (that and groups take a while to make decisions and get moving).

So on Sunday I woke up early (7:45am!) to go to Kyoto and see some temples. I made a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich and put it in my pack and was on the train by 8:45. I bought a bus pass that would allow me to move about freely (usually they are 220 yen/ride, which can add up, the bus pass is 500 yen). Of course, I had to wrestle with a vending machine to get it. But I prevailed.



I started at Myoshin-ji, which is a large, active temple complex (housing some 24 subtemples) in the Rinzai lineage of Zen Buddhism. Walking along the main path through the complex, I heard some chanting from a nearby temple and stepped through the threshold and listened for a few moments.



I walked further and came across a temple, Taizo-in, that is famous for its gardens and sumi-e painting of a man catching a catfish. I paid the admission fee and walked in. Again I heard a bell sounding and people chanting. I lingered near the sound of chanting and admired the catfish painting for a few minutes before heading down to the gardens.

At the entrance to the garden are two rock gardens. These were quite nice. After a few minutes of enjoying them, I heard a small bell ringing in the bushes. I turned to look in that direction and saw a white cat with a pink collar jumping out from the bushes. I watched it as it looked at the rock garden on the left, and then on the right. It looked like it wanted to jump in the rock garden, and, after clawing at the rope nearby, it hopped on it, walked around, and dig around. For those unfamiliar with the rock garden, they are usually very pristine, very well-kept arrangements in which the gravel is raked in a particular way and all leaves and other objects are removed or deliberately placed. The little trickster cat came by just to make sure no one was getting too attached to it.

The garden itself was beautiful and quiet. There was a couple there trying to take a picture with a timer, but they were unable to make the run quick enough so I pulled out a little Japanese (shashin o torimashoo ka?) and took their picture. They were nice enough to return the favor.





I then went to another temple in the complex, this one famous for its painted walls and doors.




two of many, many beautiful paintings. i have not included my favorite, because it could not be photographed. i have some video that may make it's way online someday (like all my video)

After that I hopped a bus for Nanneji, another large complex. I arrived at the very large gate and noticed something that I've noticed at other places.

Good and evil have no self nature; Holy and unholy are empty names; In front of the door is the land of stillness and quiet; Spring comes, grass grows by itself. Master Seung Sahn

Do you see in the picture those two guards at either side of the gate? They are very frightening, no? (kowai desu ne!). Well I've read about this in a book and it's like the only symbolic understanding I have of the statues and architecture here (I'm in desperate need of a book), so I will pass on what I've learned to you, since such frightful characters may seem confusing, especially if found at the entrance of a Buddhist temple, which is generally thought to be peaceful and calm. The one of the left has his mouth closed, while the one on the right has his open. This represents the opposites -- closed/open; life/death; sacred/profane; good/evil. They are frightening figures because at the threshold to enlightenment is fear. These are the demons that keep us from walking in the center. Fear of death, fear of pain, fear of living an uncomfortable life, fear of being alone. Thus, when walking through the gates, one stands at the center of the opposites, touching both and knowing them to not be but two sides of the same coin (a la the yin-yang). And, in walking through, one sees the fearful apparitions as they really are. These monsters are just wood, just statues; these fears are just illusions.

After wandering a bit, I continued down the road to Ryoan-ji, which is famous for its rock garden (of which you've undoubtedly seen pictures, but I'll post one anyway). A picture is nothing, this is a garden that needs to be experienced. I was overwhelmed by it. I am unable to say anything more about it.




After spending a good while at Ryoan-ji, I continued down the road to Kinkakuji or the Gold Temple, which, unlike Ginkakuji (the silver temple) is appropriately named.




And then, exhausted, I returned home.

My experience in Japan thus far has been great. It is a bit strange to walk around at first. Despite the refined aesthetic sensibilities of the Japanese art forms (from gardens to paintings to architecture), the cities are quite dreary and modern and lifeless feeling... full of concrete and shopping malls and fast food restaurants. I think American cities (Philadelphia, San Francisco, Boston, New York -- Manhattan at least), each have different personalities but ultimately are well planned and good looking. A trip to downtown Kyoto, however, will reveal a city that is not nearly as beautiful as American cities. But, in spite of this, there always seems to be some magic lurking around the corner. And that is how Japan is seducing me.

Classes began last week and are all looking good. My Sumi-e course is going to be a challenge (as I have no painting experience with such things, brushes and paint and the like; I've got more than a few gold stars from fingerpainting though), but I think it will be rewarding. My Japanese classes seem like they'll be great. My spoken Japanese professor is energetic and and the class looks like it'll be challenging, but not unbearably so.

My reading and writing class in Japanese is also fun. I'm finding it to be almost like a philosophy course. It's because kanji are full of depth of meaning. For example, today we learned the kanji for weather (天気 -- pronounced tenki). This may seem rather benign at first, until we recognize that the first character (天:ten) means "heaven" and the second character (気:ki) means "spirit" (in the sense of the general mood or feeling of something). So weather is the spirit or feeling of heaven. I think this is quite lovely. We also learned the kanji for げんき (元気 -- genki, meaning healthy or energetic -- essentially in good spirits), which again features 気（き) but this time with the kanji for "origin" (元:gen). Thus, the word genki means something like original spirit. Our original spirit is healthy, energetic and good.

With this and hearing Japanese all the time, I am finding myself more and more drawn to language (both Japanese and in general). Communication is such a wonderful thing, and I always hate it when I am unable to do so. My inability mixed with my desire in the cauldron of possibility will hopefully yield a nice potion of understanding (are you enjoying this, Brady? :wink:)

Until next time, さようなら (sayoonara)。

Our trek to Kyoto

Well, Friday I went to Kyoto, and, for that matter, Saturday as well. On Friday almost all the new international students went to Kyoto as part of a tour set up by the university… that is, depending on how broadly you define the word “tour.” We were split up into groups (my group consisted Daniel, Tommy, and Niklas from Sweden Arum from South Korea, and Kara from Minnesota) and assigned a guide (a Kansai Gaidai student). Our guide, however, did not seem to have much idea where to go and wasn’t terribly familiar with the workings of the Kyoto rail system, so we ended up getting lost a couple of times. We were fortunate to run into another international student who knew a little bit more about the area and that helped.

Eventually, we made it to Fushiminari Shrine, which is famous for its thousands of tori, which are those iconic red gates you might see in a picture of Japan in a tourbook or some such thing. The tori are all placed together along the paths that wind up the mountain through a forest, creating a kind of tunnel.


From left to right: Our guide, Arum, Evan, Kara, Daniel, Niklas, Tommy. Everyone's camera was used to take a similar picture, so I was getting bored with the same ol' facial expression. This was an unfortunate variation ;-)



Entering the shrine, we came upon a washing station. In Shinto (which, if I recall correctly, means something like “way of the gods”), purification is very important so at the entrance to most or all shrines is a basin with water and ladels. Before entering, it is customary to wash ones hands and mouth with the water. So we all stopped at the basin to do some purification before climbing the mountain (but, as fate would have it, the climb would turn out to be quite purifying…)


Note: This is not the washing basin at Fushiminari, but a washing basin I saw at another shrine near Ginkakuji

Also near the entrance was a place where persons could get their fortunes on a slip of paper. Some of the others did this, but, since it was in Japanese, we were mostly out of luck in understanding them. I believe the idea is that if one receives a negative fortune, one ties it to a nearby tree or post, thus parting with that unfortunate future.

Fushiminari is a shrine to the fox god, and so on either side of one of the first tori were two fox statues. I am not sure if they were guarding the way or what their function was. I actually would love to get a book (or maybe I’ll just talk to a professor at Kansai Gaidai) about the iconography of Shinto shrines and Buddhist Temples in Japan.



We passed through and began the climb up. The sun was setting and so we tried not to tarry too long taking tons of pictures, but, of course, we did. One of the interesting things about each of the tori is that they are all owned by some one or some family and have to be replaced every 30 years I believe (because the wood rots due to the humidity). I have no idea how expensive this must be, but I think it’s safe to assume that it is something only the very wealthy can do.

Along the path there are various shrines (and the ubiquitous vending machines – I suppose some, including some Japanese vending companies, would say that Coca-Cola is the nectar of the gods), to which persons make trips to make offerings and prayers for good fortune or cures to ailments.

Towards the top of the climb, there is an overlook from which all of Kyoto can be seen. It was dusk when we reached this point and the city was beginning to light up.



At this point a Japanese woman stopped and directed us (as the path forked into three directions) to what she said was the top. So we made our way in that direction up a very difficult climb and finally reached the peak. We were hoping to be able to get a better view of the city from this point, but trees and a building blocked any view may have had. Legs were aching, and many were complaining. We had all bundled up for the trip, but none were without sweat by the top. Some commented that it was getting warmer, but the sun had set. It was not an external change, but an internal one. Who sees this?

It began to rain lightly for our descent, and one girl had a wool coat, which apparently does not mix with rain and so we, with gravity as both an aid and a danger on the slippery steps, made our way down quickly.

I was hoping we might stop somewhere in Kyoto to eat as there was no shortage of places, but the others elected to return back Hirakata and go to the conveyer belt sushi place again (it’s fairly inexpensive and good, so why not).


From Left to Right: Tommy (Sweden), Kara (Minnesota), Daniel (Sweden), Me, Arum (Korea), Niklas (Sweden)

The next day, I woke up with my legs aching from all the walking the day previous. But, I really wanted to go back to Kyoto to see some temples and begin to get oriented in the city (as we only saw a very very very small part). So I toughed it out and went back.

I was hoping to start my trek at Kyoto station. After some confusion about doubling back on the rail system (as there express and local trains, sometimes it would seem advantageous to take an express past one’s destination and then go back a couple of stops, but occasionally one has to pay for a transfer, and I’m frugal so I opted to walk instead), I arrived at Kyoto station, which, as I had heard, was gigantic. Within this train station, there is a movie theater, a department store (like a 6 story department store, not like a JC Penney in a local mall back home), and all sorts of other things. I was mostly interested in stopping at the Tourist Information place and picking up some maps and information about bus schedules. So, after getting some info and a donut from Mister Donut, I found a bus and headed off to Ginkakuji.



Ginkakuji is known as the “silver pavilion temple,” but this is a misnomer. There is nothing, nor was there ever, anything silver about it. It was simply named that to differentiate it from Kinkakuji (The Gold Pavilion Temple). I got there sometime around 1:00 and paid the admission fee (500 yen) and made my way in. Ginkakuji has beautifully kept gardens, mixing architecture, rock elements, plants and ponds into a beautiful arrangement. I made my way through slowly, trying to be mindful of all I was experiencing.









The temple was a temple in the Rinzai lineage of Zen Buddhism. I am not sure if it is still an active temple, though. I did not see any monks, but it is possible they were hiding away in the part of the temple off limits to tourists. And of course, what attraction is complete without a gift shop… apparently not even a temple.

I had hoped to visit another temple as well, but it was nearing three and I was hoping to take care of one more thing downtown before heading back home to go out with some friends for dinner. So I began back towards a bus stop. Before doing so, though, I picked up a free sample of something from some sweet shop. It was a sweet, cinnamon jelly (from talking with others, I would guess it’s made of red beans or something) wrapped in a soft something. Whatever it was, it was absolutely delicious, and I would like to find more of it.

Back towards downtown, I was looking for a record shop to buy some concert tickets to a show coming up in Kyoto. It was in some shopping district that has kilometers of covered roads (well, I guess it’s not too dissimilar to an indoor mall), and though I had a hand-drawn map (read: bad idea), I had no idea where to go. Fortunately, I was able to ask some people for directions to landmarks near the shop and was able to locate it. For the most part, I have yet to really feel lost thus far in Japan. By lost I mean the feeling of not only being in the “wrong place,” but also feeling unable to find one’s destination.





I bought the tickets (Joanna Newsom on Feb. 19 in Kyoto – I’m stoked!) and headed back home. Not having a cell phone, it is always an uncertainty as to whether I’ll be able to meet up with the people I want to or not. Fortunately, I ran into my friend Daniel in the dorm and we headed to meet a group for dinner.

The restaurant we went to was near the Seminar Houses and served Okonomiyaki, which is a mixture of lettuce, egg and some other things (this is actually only a guess, I’m not exactly sure what goes into it) and your choice of something (like shrimp or vegetables or meat of some kind) and then covered in some sauce and cooked (like a pancake). I had one with Shrimp (Ebi). This was actually pretty good, except there were occasionally bites of something that didn’t quite suit me. It’s a taste I encountered the other night when I unwittingly ate octopus. Oh, I didn’t tell you this story did I.

I was out and about in Makino (an area right by the Seminar Houses), hungry and looking for something to eat (tonight is the first night we are allowed to cook in the kitchen). I saw this one guy in a stall wide enough only for him frying up some balls of something. I was hungry, and they didn’t look too bad and so I got some and took them back home. I bit into it and it was chewy and then there were tough bits to it. It didn’t taste too pleasant, and the texture was a mix of too chewy and too tough. I ate four and then decided I had no desire to finish the rest. After digging around on the internet, I have since determined that I was eating octopus (a food called takoyaki). So I can now tell you quite objectively that I do not like octopus.

Today was the day that the homestay kids moved off to live with their host families. My best friend here, Daniel, left, but we have a class together so I’ll still be certain to see him regularly.

Speaking of classes, I registered on Thursday and, after being fortunate in drawing lots (#97 out of over 400), I got all the classes I wanted – Death in East Asian Thought and Sumi-e (brush painting). I also found out yesterday that I made it into level 2 of Japanese! I’m really glad about this. One semester of Japanese at Elon covers half of what level one does here (Lessons 1-4 in Genki vs. Lessons 1-9 – of course they meet every day of the week), and so I was worried that I would be in level one and spend half the class repeating what I already know. So over January I started studying and got through lesson 8 in Genki, albeit not absorbing as well as I had lessons 1-4 in class. So Level 2 should be a little difficult, but I’m glad I’ll be challenged and hopefully make some big improvements in Japanese.

That’s about all for now; I hope I’ll be able to take some film this week of my journey to or from school and of the Seminar House and maybe I’ll have a video tour of the immediate area in the next couple of weeks for you all, but that’s all time-dependent.