City of Blindling Lights

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 9

I don't remember much of the bus ride, which, given that we left Kyoto at 11pm and arrived at Tokyo Station at 7:30 must mean that I slept a lot. As it was, I wasn't tired during the day, so I'd say the night bus agreed with me (and my pocketbook) very well. Also, it wasn't quite as nice as the Knight Bus, but I could imagine...

We were just pulling out of Kyoto when the lights on the bus, which had been blinding after the darkness around Kyoto Station were finally turned off. The curtains on the windows were drawn and the bus was pleasantly dark, if still, you know, rocking like a bus. I vaguely remember us stopping a few times – an announcement was always made over the intercom which would wake everyone on board. There were no bathrooms on the bus, so if you needed to use the facilities, you'd have to make sure you could hold it until I stop. I didn't need to, so I found these rude awakenings rather annoying. Plus, they were every few hours.

Finally, we pulled in to Tokyo. But Tokyo is huge so there were actually several Tokyo stops. For each one, there was an announcement, and the lights were all turned on, much to sleeping Magda's dismay. Then the stop would be made, people would get off, and the lights would again be turned back off. I dealt with it. Eventually, we reached Tokyo Station and I got off with many other people. It was 7:30am and a quiet, peaceful morning. Heidi would be getting in that afternoon, so I had some time to wander around. I first went into the station, where I found a bathroom. It seems many other people had this idea, as there were more women primping there (at special divided mirror and vanity sections than actually using the toilets. I combed out my hair and was done with it.

Outside, I wandered toward the moat of the Imperial grounds. I wandered through a little parkway, and eventually stopped under a tree and pulled out my Lonely Planet book to investigate my course of action. By this point, it was beginning to rain some and the tree only provided so much shelter. Knowing it would rain, I'd brought my umbrella, which was out, and I had my BoatHouse jacket in my bag but, for some reason, never actually pulled it out.

I eventually decided to start walking along the moat, as nothing was open at this hour. I also considered geocaching, but didn't want to do it in the rain with my poor bags. The moat was huge and on the other side of various bridges were little entryways with stern-looking guards and high walls. Yes, this is where the Emperor of Japan lives.

The rain was not stopping, and it was getting annoying. I eventually rolled up the legs of my jeans to try to save the hems from becoming soaked. It did little good. One particularly bad downpour left me wet, despite my umbrella because there was enough wind and mist. I made a dash for a Tokyo Metro tunnel and hid under there while I finalized my plans and figured out where I was on my maps. When I emerged, it was no longer raining, which was quite lucky.

While I had been walking, I was being passed by a lot of runners, particularly a huge proportion of gaijin. I wondered, briefly, if the Japanese were smart enough not to do something so utterly trying, especially at so early an hour, but given Japanese discipline, that didn't seem right. Yet, through it all, kept being passed by groups of runners so that I felt like the only walker. They were also all going in the same direction and decked out in snazzy running gear. As I would discover later, there seems to have been some sort of race going on, as many people had numbers. Aunt Alice, I thought of you.

I had determined that it'd be nice to visit the Imperial grounds, as the East Garden (which I was passing) is open to the public, but that wouldn't open until later in the morning. So, in the meantime, I headed up past it to Yasukuni-jinja, a shrine dedicated to establishing peace in the empire.

The shrine itself is dedicated to the 2.4 million Japanese who have died in war since 1853 and, it is Japan's most controversial shrine. A group of Class A war criminals were enshrined here in 1979 and Japanese politicians will come here to pray, which rather annoys the rest of the world, in particular Japan's neighbors who suffered most through World War II.

The fact that the shrine was so controversial is actually what drew me to it. I wanted to understand it better. Also, because I've definitely read about it on BBC News. I took a wrong turn, but eventually found the shrine. It was still raining, so there were lots of people with umbrellas walking around. As I was to later notice, I was the ONLY Gaijin there the entire hour plus I spent there. Everyone else was Japanese.

The shine is first remarkable because of the HUGE torri (Shinto gates.) I got many pictures near these. I picked up a map in English from a display and used that to get a better feel for the various things to see around the Shine grounds. Nearby, Shrine Maidens (in red and black) sold prayer-related goods at little stands. The main building of the shrine itself was gorgeous, so I took many pictures, but also generally tried to stay back and observe unobtrusively.

What was perhaps most interesting about the shrine, or what I could understand from the English explanations was the very different point of view than the one I'd gotten in school about Japan in World War II. While all cultures do horrible things, we're used to hearing about the atrocities of the Japanese in the war, yet Japan's perspective is very different. I can see why it frustrates some foreigners. At the shrine was a large statue of the Indian member of the court who argued that the rest of the world was judging Japan too harshly. His reading was available to take on printed out paper, translated into multiple languages. Nothing else at the shrine was so readily available for foreigners to understand.

On the grounds was the Yasukuni-jinji yushukan, a war memorial museum housing items commemorating the Japanese war dead. I didn't go in, as it was 800 yen and there was limited English explanations. Lonely Planet says that there are excepts from books, including some in English, that argue that America forced Japan into bombing Pearl Harbor. It's no wonder America gets ticked off at this shrine. But, all in all, a fascinating visit and cultural experience.

I wandered around the sides to see various other smaller shrines, including one dedicated to all war dead.

Eventually I made it to the far side, where there were statues honoring the war's animals and war widows. In the back was the garden. For some reason, this was nearly deserted, although it was quite lovely. There was a large construction site curtained off, so it was hard to tell where I could go and where I couldn't. I pretty much followed the stone pathways and doors, always watching for little barriers that might hint somewhere was off-limits. I ended up following some stone steps, which lead to a door, propped open with a stone. As this certainly looked inviting, I wandered in, and continued to follow paths around until I got to a nice view of the pond and noticed that all doors and pathways leading to where I now was were blocked off from the other side. Oops. I took some quick pictures, then quietly backed out.

I went around and eventually wandered through the little pathways around (and across) the pond. There was a small waterfall, a little bubbling spring, and lots of carefully placed rocks. Many pictures were taken.

Coming back around, I stopped briefly to view the white doves, then made my way out of the shrine. I used a footbridge to cross a busy road, then huddled under it to check my maps again.

I wandered through the Kitanomaru-koen grounds, making my way back to the East Garden of the Imperial Palace. I was tempted to stop at the Crafts Gallery museum, but I was short on time. At the palace, the gates were now open, and I walked up a bridge under the watchful (and intimidating!) watch of a Japanese guard. Once inside, I was given a little token that said “Admission” made of plastic. I was to return it to the gate when I left, apparently to keep track of the people inside. And that was all I had to do to get onto the Japanese Imperial Palace grounds. In America, there'd be background checks and metal detectors.

The inside of the grounds was quite pretty, although the rain, though light, did dampen my enthusiasm for it. There was a beautiful concert hall, shaped like a hexagon with mosaics up each side. There was also the stone ruins of another building. There were stone cellars, and lots of little gardens, like a bamboo garden. This meant less to me, I think, than it would have meant to someone like Alyssum's dad. (Although Alyssum doesn't read this, so she'll never know...) The garden lies at what was once the heart of the old castle. There was a really cool map displaying where old buildings, like the women's quarters, used to be in what was now a grassy field. There were old guard houses, and old walls. There was a little grove where a tree was dedicated to each prefecture in Japan, and I was sure to find the Shiga one, which I found to be quite pretty.

It was a lot of hiking, and despite me trying to be efficient, I couldn't decide which way would be the fastest to leave by, and thus walked much farther than I should have. I was about to leave through the same entrance I came in by, when I bumped into a nice couple from Europe and they mentioned that they think they saw the Imperial Palace (which I hadn't yet) down by the entrance I'd just left. So, thanking them, I turned on heal and headed BACK – again! – through the gardens and out the far side.

The Imperial Palace is on the same site as the castle Edo-jo, at which the Tokugawa shogunate ruled Japan. Although little remains of it now aside from the moat and walls, once upon a time, the castle was the largest in the world. The palace now standing was built in 1968 to replace the 1888 castle that was destroyed in World War II. The palace is the actual home of the Japanese emperor and the imperial family, so it's closed all but two days of the year – January 2 and December 23 (the Emperor's birthday.)

On the far end, I walked back, past the station, following the moat and eventually found a huddle of people taking pictures. Up on a hill, not terribly visible was a white castle that looked a lot like the one in Hikone. It had to be the Imperial Palace. So, I joined the thongs of people taking photographs under the watchful eyes of a guard. Eventually a nice Japanese couple offered to take my picture, and I gladly accepted. So, I have now seen the White House, Buckingham Palace, and the Imperial Palace of Japan. Pretty awesome. Oh, and a bunch of castles in Edinburgh.

From there, it was time for me to head south to Roppogi to meet up with Heidi. I had some time, and didn't want to figure out the metro, so I just walked. (An odd manifestation of my laziness, I admit.) It was a nice way to see more of Tokyo, and this area as generally pleasant. There were plenty of sidewalks and crosswalks, so it was never pedestrian unfriendly. I even passed some gardens.

I wandered my way and managed to get fairly twisted around – note, perhaps my sense of direction really IS that bad. I asked for directions and generally did okay with what I was told. Although, people were generally horrified when I said that I intended to walk it, sometimes stressing that it was THREE KILOMETERS! (God forbid!) By now, however, the weather was lovely, so I continued on.

I was meeting Heidi in Roppongi, near our hotel, The Olympia Inn, which was near Temple University's Japan campus, where she would take the LSAT the following day. Roppongi has undergone a transformation changing with urban landscape development and a rise in respectability. It is known for it's night life, but now has fantastic restaurants and museums. I had a rough idea where Temple University was (roughly south of Tokyo Tower) so I headed toward Tokyo Tower. Tokyo Tower, by the way, looks like an orange and white striped Eiffel Tower, only, as they brag quite forcefully, it's TALLER than the Eiffel tower. It's still orange and white striped.

I passed quite close to it when I finally made contact with Heidi again. We were texting, but I kept not hearing her incoming texts, despite my volume being up all the way and not using headphones. She eventually told me which station to meet her by, I asked some directions, then we made contact at last.

We wandered back to the hotel together. TECHNICALLY, she had reserved the room only for herself, because she had reserved it before I had finalized coming, but we agreed to split the cost. This, however, still meant that the hotel thought only one person was staying there, so we tried to be subtle about my presence as much as possible.

The room itself was tiny, but had a nice bathroom and shower attached. We eventually wandered out to find Temple University, to make sure Heidi knew where it was the following morning. We found it easily, and asked where the room was, and even got a quick tour to the exact room in which Heidi would take her test (they checked her name against their lists.) So, feeling more set, we headed back out. We stopped at a conbini, which all have nice little umbrella racks outside for rainy days like this, and I grabbed a few little bakery goods to have as breakfast/dinner. Then we continued to walk around and explore. We were looking for a possible place to have dinner, when we stumbled across a French bakery. Heidi studied abroad in France and I love French breads, so we decided to just go there and grab breads for dinner. It was a most delicious choice. Many had the word “cheese” in the title, so I stocked up. Later, back in the room, I changed into my pajama bottoms to allow my jeans a chance to dry (and my poor socks!) and we munched our bread happily.

It was still raining, now more heavily, so we stayed in and chatted a bit, catching up on our lives, our teaching in Japan, and just generalities. It was nice to chat. Eventually we decided it was now or never, I put my jeans back on (now, merely slightly damp) and we headed back out to see Tokyo Tower at night. We could see it just barely if we craned our necks out the window and it was all lit up at night, like the Eiffel Tower. So, into the streets we went. Luckily, Heidi's sense of direction is better than my own.

We took a bunch of pictures as we approached (and waved to some stray cats) and eventually got to the Tower's base. It's quite impressive. The tower, completed in 1958, is nine meters taller than the Eiffel Tower (which inspired it) coming in at 333 meters. They have red spotlights on the bottom that make it quite lovely. The color is dramatic.

Underneath Tokyo tower is a shopping/eating building, rather than open space like in Paris. Inside there, we inquired about the cost of going up, but decided that $18 wasn't worth it. We looked around briefly, but really had to be getting back, as Heidi wanted to Skype her mother quickly before getting to bed and it was getting late.

We wandered out and down the hill, getting to a major road at the bottom when Heidi stopped, unsure which way to go. We eventually debated and walked back up to Tokyo tower to try to figure out which entrance we had first come upon. We were quite twisted about. We circled the whole thing while I stayed calm and Heidi got increasingly panicked. The tower's building interior had now closed, apparently we were there right on the cusp, and gates had been drawn making it look quite different. Eventually we decided on which of the many pathways must be the right one, and walked back down. We spotted a small temple that we remembered, then a footbridge at the bottom that we'd crossed, and made it back just fine from there. In typing up this post, I've discovered that that little shine must have been Zojo-ji, the family temple of the Tokugawas.

Heidi skyped her mother while I showered. I tried to be fast, as I knew she was tired, but my hair felt so dirty, that I needed to shampoo it twice. I crawled out just as she was wrapping up with her boyfriend back home. We then settled in for the night, each setting an alarm so that as least one would go off.