Kyoto

The People I've met. So I have to over indulge myself a little bit. Some people might say we die a little bit every day but in this current instance I am definitely choosing to favor the antithesis. Though it could be the haze around me, or the coffee, cigarettes, tasty pastries and beer sitting in front of me, it could be the twenty miles of stunning landscape and intriguingly hazy mountains that fly by every three minutes, I personally like to think its just the way of the world. You see after breaking from my crew on the road, because they wanted to return to Tokyo I spent the day at one of the most amazing places I've been to yet. It was called _______Inari, and it was the sight of over 10,000 Torii if I'm not mistaken. Now, if you're unfamiliar Torii are the red/orange arch gates that are the iconic symbol of Shintoism and also mark the entrance to a shinto shrine also called a Ginja. The spot was quite popular the reason was bright and a plenty. A two stop ride from from Kyoto was located Inari mountain, the home to the many shrines, and these numerous Torii. In corduroys my favorite button up shirt, green Marmot Jacket, and carrying my similar green osprey pack the prep couldn't have been better. Not to mention I had spent the previous day tripping around Kyoto which concluded with my first Onsen experience.


...which, if I may let me talk about this for a second because it was awesome. We (David and myself) had met our friend Jon because that night in Kyoto Jon had arranged for us to stay with his uncle. Now, Its obvious that I like Japanese people, but let me amend that and say I Really like Japanese people, especially the balling old folks. This man was in his late eighties, lived on his own, worked as a small quaint barber shop which he also lived above. He liked baseball but wasn't interested in going to a game. He loved his little dog, that I really should have taken a picture of—the goofiest looking little dog. Obviously practically blind this dog, Pappi, was 13 and still had the energy of a pup—the type of energy that is pure joy making you spin when you jump for no apparent reason,which this dog did often—and constantly had its tongue sticking out the side, longer that I thought any dog could. Anyway Jon's great uncle, oh yea GREAT uncle, was awesome, totally chill, simple, old, Japanese man who was happy as he ever had been still working cutting hair and leading a simple lifestyle. And it was this awesome man who go us all—yea there were four of us staying this night in his loft, which was incredibly kind of him: David and I got him some nice traditional Japanese sweets that you drink with Macha as a gift—he wanted to take us to an onsen close by. So we walked maybe 3 minutes from his home and down an alley into a quaint little building, very Japanese in style, that had a surprisingly bright greeting room for how much you couldn't notice it from the alley. The woman just ushered us in, and we walked back to the left of the desk to a locker area, separated from the main bath room by a few large panes of glass. Doubt I will every be so happy stripping down with a bunch of old Japanese men, but after nakedness happened, the threshold was breached and we passed into a slightly warmer and steamier room, made completely of tiles except the mirrors on the wall, and the skylights above head. Running along the left wall were a bunch of mirrors with small showering stations with faucets too, though no sink. Individual mirrors were placed along the wall at each station. The procedure was obvious from the way the other old yet fit gentlemen cleaned themselves. You were to take a small stool (about 4 inches off the ground), if you cared to, then sit at one of the stations with their low shower heads, and wash yourself. Usually using your stations bucket you would wet yourself, wash, then rinse yourself. Located in the behind these stations in the same room were hot tub type baths, all communal. In the corners were mineral baths, with one corner having an ice bath instead, which literally was an ice bath, with ice, coming out of a metal dragon gargoyles open mouth every five seconds or so. Next to this ice bath was a small sauna room. The entire place was clean and relaxing. Getting clean and relaxing was the aim of everyone in the place and so the mood was very calm and happy. I especially liked the Winnie the pooh tiles that circumscribed the mineral bath, which had the color of a grape sports drink. It was the most clean I've felt in a long time. I met a naked old guy in the sauna, which I saw just because it sound creepy. Ha. He was a stroke doctor, which was one of the most incredibly difficult, draw out, ridiculous, funny and enjoyable explanations ever as I of course didn't know the Japanese for stroke. He told me he had a friend working for Americas NHI and that his dream was to go to the great wall of China and surprise the mongols. Hah. A character of an individual—truly kind and enjoyable. Though he quickly had to leave, and I didn't get a chance to talk more, and try that twenty cent massage chair because it turned out that Jon and his uncle had been waiting outside, after we had told them earlier that we would be fine to return on our own and thought they had left. Though a little bummed I couldn't talk to this guy more, and try that chair UGGGGGGGGGGGG I wanted to—it was all good, the experience truly being one of a kind. We went to a conbini and then returned to our loft and slept. Which brings me back to today.

Anyway I felt great, and I was prepared to take on a mountain and get away—into the woods of this amazing mountain. And this I actually did a little more than I intended. ha. I ended up in a few different places that I wasn't sure my presence was intended by those who made the paths. There had been a main path of course, however I had chosen a smaller one away from most the people. Maybe not “supposed to,” but none the less I was there, in the middle of an entirely bamboo forest, which slowly transitioned into an entirely cedar forest, unable to hear anything but nature, and the occasional yells, of what I think was baseball practice on the other side of the mountain. For a little interesting info these Japanese cedars are the most sacred trees in Japan by the shinto religion. They are use to rebuild the Ise shrine (the main shrine of Shintoism, the said residence of Amaterasu, the sun goddess). I found some amazing homes, where I only can imagine Totoro lives, tucked into the cracks of the mountain, between shrines and trees—seeming so naturally positioned that nature seemingly grew them itself. And the shrines, which feels even weird using that word: “Shrine”—they that cant even be explained. I tried with my camera like a fool, but these places I can confidently say are truly sacred. Old and alive, in a way that few things in this world are—though, those things that are are easily recognized, if you follow my meaning. I found a persimmon tree, of which I am currently indulging—and I eventually took a small path of stairs, from following the instruction of a 20 year-old-looking sign straight up the side of the mountain seemingly to the top. I intersected the main path getting some interested and strange looks like: “how did he come that way”, as if my way was easier than theirs. HA! Mind you I had my large backpacking pack on me this whole time, it was probably about an hour hike up to the top. But, I got there, and it was pure. I even forgot to take picture for a while, which is rare. The people were more sparse, obviously deterred from the long hike, which I believe was mostly stairs the main way, however much shorter than the circuitous way I had taken. The main shrines were always set up above the rest. With stairs leading up to a large shrine, Torii overhead always. From here you could usually ring a bell, give a donation if you felt, and pray. This area was always covered. From here you could go around the main shrine into a square maze like pathways with shrines everywhere. This was all within probably a fifty by fifty square foot area, though all these smaller shrine areas, which might be better described as alter type areas, were lower and smaller than the main one. At one such alter I met a woman who held apparent presence to me. She was simply siting at the base, looking up at the stairs leading to the main shrine. She wasn't turning her head at passers by, but she didn't seem intently focused. There was the smallest, slowest breaking smile on her face. Drawn to her I kindly asked her the meaning of the numbered plaques that accompanied the smaller alter areas. She told me that it was convenience for people with specific quarrels to go to and pray. It also created a hierarchy of the kamisama (gods). We talked briefly with few words if any seeming forced. I told her my story and she seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say, which was nice, as I was also in the things she was telling me. She told me the difference between the foxes (which were on both sides of most of the shrines—said to be their protectors) which was what they held in their mouths. If it was a ball the fox was for men, and if a stick, or really scroll looking thing, it was for girls. I was really enjoying talking to her, but I was beginning to feel a bit bad as her explanation was getting to detailed that I was having a hard time understanding and keeping up with her. Strangely as this happened this woman stopped explaining something stopping mid-sentence, looking at me, then the shrine, then talking a bit more slowly and seemingly to me about a completely different subject. She talked about the heart, saying that the most important thing in connecting people around the world is the heart. Not the head but the heart. Because it was for life, and life was all that mattered. With two wrinkled fingers she pointed at my heart saying that it was good and strong. And that I should listen to it. It was important.
I was rather taken aback. I had responded to her previous wisdom saying thank you and that she was very intelligent, but to this I honestly didn't know what to say. It ended up being a muttered thank you. Seemingly she didn't notice that I was feeling this way and like wisdom itself, continued talking making her compliments more general to her message. We smiled at each other, I thanked her for teaching me, to which she thanked me for teaching her the world lifestyle,and I took my leave, pausing a few steps away still struck by my interaction. I don't know if she was watching but I have the feeling she turned her eyes to me once more as a slowly made my way back into a hallway of tori this time down the mountain. I had two more conversations down the mountain, one with a french lady working in Taiwan, and one with an Indian man working as a software engineer for Sony, but this conversation never left my mind.
Taking the train back to the main station I made my way onto a shinkansen towards Tokyo.
Which leads me here, on a train, reflecting, enjoying my monthly cigarette with a rather poor, but still satisfying convenient store coffee, listening to some Japanese/Hawaiian, reggae/dub that I would describe as simply adorable—like when you sit down at the Teli when a program obviously meant for young children comes on and for some reason you don't change the channel: its not exactly what you had wanted to watch, but you didn't really need to be watching TV anyway and this is making you smile. Though I must admit my head does, hurt a little, being as I don't smoke and my seat is in the smoking car of this specific train—it was the only car available, what ya gonna do. So I splooged a little and bought myself some things for the ride, to accompany me in a less than perfect environment. But like I said, its just the way of the world, and I couldn't be more content. Smiles on my face and happy on my mind, I'm on an adventure that I will never forget.



The silence of the mind is the greatest music.