Geiko and Gion

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 6

I got up nice and early and caught a train to Kyoto without incident. I note this because, for me, this somehow ends up being the exception, rather than the rule. I even successfully managed to get the natives to read the kanji for me on the discount ticket machine. I saved 100 yen.

In Kyoto, I planned to visit two temples before heading over to pick up my tickets for the Gion Odori at the Gion Kaikan Theater in Gion.

I left the station and headed north to Nishi Hongan-ji temple. I must have first entered a sub-temple because, while the buildings were impressive, the place was deserted. I then went next-door and found all the hubbub. This temple, known as Hongan-ji was built in 1591 by Toyotomi Hideyoshi to serve as the new headquarters for the immensely powerful Jodo-shin-shu (Pure True Land) school of Buddhism. Today this temple serves as the headquarters for the Hongan-ji branch of the Jodo Shin-shu school of Buddhism, which contains over 12 million followers worldwide and over 10,000 temples.

The temple itself contains some of the finest examples of architecture and artistic ability from the Azuchi-momoyama period (1568-1600.) There was a Japanese tour group in the temple, so it was fun to watch them following around their genki (spirited, boisterous, happy) tour guide. Inside one of the main halls, there seemed to be a ceremony starting up. It took ages, so I eventually left, but monks were setting out benches and dividers, and a monk eventually sat and started chanting and beating a drum. I've been in enough situations like this where I'm in a religious place. I don't think my presence is rude, but I do strive to be overly respectful. I stayed to the back of the room (right against the wall) and did sit on my knees like everyone else and quietly observed. I only snap pictures in a religious place if I see several Japanese people snapping pictures without security yelling at them.

My favorite part was a kara-mon, a sort of gateway carved with intricate, brightly-colored designs. I hadn't seen anything like it in Japan yet. If I understood, it's recognized in some form as a cultural asset or something like that.

From there, I had to keep on schedule, so I speed-walked to neighboring Higashi Hongan-ji temple. You'll notice the names are quite similar. The power of the Hongan-ji temple was seen as a threat by Tokugawa Ieyasu who in 1602 encouraged a break-away fraction of the school to found Higashi Hongan-ji ('Higashi' meaning 'east.') The original temple became known as Nishi Hongan-ji ('Nishi' means 'west.') It was actually rather annoying to find that you couldn't enter the temple from the west, coincidentally the side I was coming from, but had to circle around and enter from the eastern gates. Let me remind you, this is a huge temple; to quote Lonely Planet, “this temple... is the last word in all things grand and gaudy.”

This temple was founded by Tokugawa Ieyasu as Nishi Hongan-ji's competitor in 1602. The temple was rebuilt in 1895 after several fires destroyed all of the original structures and is now the headquarters for the Otani branch of Jodo shin-shu Buddhism. The Goei-do main hall is one of the largest wooden structures in the world.

Inside, I was trying to find the information booth (I found two arrows, which pointed at each other with nothing in between) when I was stopped by a group of friendly Japanese people. They were students at an English school in Kyoto and their job was to walk around and talk to foreigners at temples. Somehow, they correctly guessed that this white girl was a foreigner. They were quite friendly: an older woman with gray hair, a younger woman who was shy and didn't talk, and a young man, who was talkative.

They were surprised to hear that I lived in Shiga, and we talked some about my impressions of Japan, my kimono lessons, my teaching, and the English language itself. The young man was from Shiga as well, and the older woman bluntly said multiple times that he should give me his number as a resource. He didn't; I think he was shy. But it's probably all for the best. Otsu is still a hike away and that could just be awkward. The entire conversation took about 20 minutes, which severely set back my schedule.

Having never found the information booth, I just went on instinct. I didn't need to spend as much time taking in the peace here as I had at the last temple. It's just like churches back home – they're beautiful, but you can overdose and, after a while, they really all kind of look the same. My main goal was to see the rope on display in the corridor between the two main buildings. Inside a huge glass case is a massive rope, one of several (the coil was several feet in diameter and several feet tall. The rope itself was probably two inches in diameter.) used to haul massive timbers in the 1880s reconstruction. It was most notable because it's made out of human hair, donated by female devotees. A sign near the display said this was because technology wasn't as good and human hair made better ropes at the time.

From there, it was definitely time to head out. I speed-walked north into Gion, a walk that took probably twice as long as I had allotted. I had no problem finding it, though – my sense of navigation is getting better, even if my sense of direction isn't. Inside, I was happily greeted, presented my postcard (sent some days before) and it was exchanged for my ticket for that night's show. I had been worried because the e-mail had said that they would hold my ticket until 1pm and I hadn't thought to confirm that that only held if I didn't pay for it before today, as I had done in the bank transfer the week before. I was paranoid. But, it all ended up fine.

Now, it was about 1:30, and I pulled out Lonely Planet on the steps to decide what to do for the next two hours. I had several places in mind and eventually headed out to Chion-in temple, just north east of Gion Keikan.

I decided to walk to the temple through Gion-san, formally known as Yasaka-jinja, a shrine I'd visited earlier with Elizabeth. There was a foreign man there with a guitar playing American music and signing and it just felt out of place. I made it to the temple just fine and, yes, Lonely Planet was right – it is impressive.

The temple was built in 1234 on the site where the famous priest Honen taught and fasted to death. Today, it serves as the headquarters for the Jodo (Pure Land) school of Buddhism, founded by Honen. The two-story san-mon (Buddhist temple gate) is the largest temple gate in Japan. The oldest present buildings date back to the 1600s.

Two main halls are connected by “the nightingale” floor, which squeaks (unimpressively) when you walk over it, as a sort of ancient intruder alarm. Also of note is an umbrella in the rafters, perhaps left during construction, perhaps left by a fox god, or something such.

Up a flight of stairs, there is a massive temple bell, the largest bell in Japan. It was cast in 1633 and weighs 74 tons. It takes 17 monks to ring the bell on New Year's. Up past this is a Buddhist cemetery.

I had a nice moment when an English-speaking tourist was struggling to figure out whether the admission fee applied to the stairs she wanted to go up. I acted as translator. Honestly, my Japanese wasn't much better than hers, but I have had practice making myself known and understanding what answers come my way. The fee only applied to the garden.

There was some sort of ceremony taking place in one of the smaller buildings. We could hear music coming from it and I'd seen monks in full array close the doors. There were several official looking people in business wear outside, so I approached a woman and asked, “nani desu ka?” I didn't know her reply, we struggled for a moment, then she hit jackpot: “bride.” She told me that if I waited, they would soon be emerging and I could take pictures. I was fully supportive of this idea.

I hung around that area for a while, but nothing was happening, so I headed off to look up the staircase that I hadn't yet explored. Up the many, many steps were a few smaller temples and another entrance to the cemetery. These little temples were quite intimate and colorful. I would have liked to spend more time looking around. I hurried down the steps thinking that this might be one of my favorite temples.

Outside the bridal party had emerged and were all posing for photographs. A man with a tripod was focusing while three or four official people were scurrying around arranging the pleats on people's clothing and straightening ties. It was super, super, super intense. Meanwhile, a small number of us – Japanese AND foreign – gathered to take pictures behind the photographer. The bridal costume, although still white, was very different from the ones worn by Shinto brides. This one involved a big white hat that kind of resembled a pope's hat in shape.

I scurried back to Geon Keikan taking a different route which ended up (luckily) being more direct. I joined a thong of people, turned over my ticket and entered the building. From there, I was directed to join a line where people were waiting to get into the tea ceremony room. As I looked around, I noted that I was one of the few women NOT in a kimono and while it's fine – I am a foreigner and I did dress respectably – I still felt out of place. I vowed it was time for me to buy a kimono.

The tea ceremony was not at all what I was expecting. It was more a cattle-call of them trying to rush as many people through as possible. Rather than ceremony, I was directed to an open seat (yes, there was no kneeling this time) and a woman in a kimono bustled over and handed me a plate with a sweet on it. I enjoyed my sweet, as another kimono-clad woman brought me a bowl of tea (skimpy amount of tea.) I took my time drinking that. Meanwhile, yes, there was a Geiko (Geisha in Kyoto are Geiko) and a Maiko at the front of the room, and they provided something interesting to stare at, the Maiko only rose when someone in the front row finished their tea, then she'd remove the bowl in true ceremonial fashion. So, while a poor excuse for a tea ceremony, the women were pretty to look at. Oh, and we got to keep the plate the sweet came on as a souvenir.

In the theatre, I was directed to my seat and ended up being between a youngish suit-clad Japanese man on one side and a youngish traditional robe-clad Japanese man on the other.

The dancing, though quite enjoyable, was not what I had expected after having seen Memoirs of a Geisha. Perhaps it was just the style as this was much more concrete – story focused dancing – than I had anticipated.

The kimono the Geiko and Maiko wore were quite beautiful, all with their low-dipping necklines in the back, revealing their sexy, sexy napes. (Napes in Japan are sexy, like American cleavage.... apparently this makes buns a sexy hairstyle, whereas I've been wearing them when I wanted to be conservative... huh...) A group of women in a side booth played the music much of it on drum and shamisan) and sang in high, scratchy voices.

I think I'd like to see the dances in the spring to see how they compare.

I walked back to the station in the fading light. I'd considered going out and doing more, but I was exhausted from my early morning and my day's hiking and adventures. The walk back to Kyoto station took about an hour. I swung by Jupiter and went through the store's goods with more care and ended up buying quite a few Indian dishes, a jar of spaghetti sauce, and some peanuts. Then it was another long jaunt on the train before I got home, tired and hungry, but it was a good and successful adventure.