pose-off #1

And now for some silliness in posing, mostly around Tokyo:

3/16

I'd always heard Kyoto was a beautiful city, but we must have picked all the wrong streets as we explored that day. The morning was spent schlepping our full packs from one lodging to the other, a good half hour walk into the heart of downtown. Fortunately we caught some interesting hidden architecture and our first blossoms (plum?)

We caught the afternoon tour of the Imperial palace at Kyoto, a huge complex of ceremonial buildings and ancient residences that are maintained beautifully, but are completely out of use. Like most old structures of great significance, the buildings themselves had been destroyed by fire and subsequently rebuilt countless times. As we toured the grounds (mindful of the important feet that had been there before), and appreciated the immaculate gardens literally fit for an emperor, Ben and I both felt the desolation and emptiness of the place. The tour guide pointed out the roofing materials for some of the buildings was made from dozens of layer of cedar bark shingling, held together with tiny bamboo nails and needed to be replaced every twenty years. The whole place was in a constant holding pattern, like a perfectly maintained ghost town.

I had been exhausted all day, and probably dealing with some culture shock. Since Ben knows me so well, he suggested we treat ourselves to a good and restorative meal, hang the cost. I had picked up a flier from a nearby restaurant earlier in the day that featured a meat map of a pig, showing the different cuts and what the chef liked to do with each. It had to be good. We entered the narrow and somewhat hidden door to a cool and peaceful room, with dark wood and modern lines. Each table had a deep stone basin and a large ventilation hood disguised as a lamp above. Tabletop cooking! We ordered the tasting menu, which included five cuts of pork, different pickles, nori flecked rice balancing a barely cooked egg yolk, and yuzu or apple sorbet. The waitress filled our basin with a special kind of charcoal, and I set to work with the tongs and meat. My recent completion of cooking school certainly paid off! We watched another party of teenagers disappear in billows of smoke and cries of "wait a minute!" (chyoto mate!)

I hadn't realized how much I missed cooking over the past week. At the end of the meal, I felt completely restored and grounded. Good food probably had something to do with this too, but the act of cooking and the connectedness to the process pulled me out of whatever shock I was in. I am hoping to further figure out my plans for the big "what's next" in life, and cooking has certainly asserted its importance.

3/13

I've never seen anything remotely like the Tsukiji fish market before in my life: aisles and cramped rows of fish in styrofoam containers, in dizzying quantities and species, some living and some recently living, in varying stages of togetherness. Our presence was tolerated (mostly ignored) as we picked our way carefully through the tight walkways, carefully rounding corners and dodging the treacherous gas powered carts that zipped frighteningly around the market with no regard to human life. Despite the handful of near death experiences, we saw mussels bigger than my head, maguro (tuna) larger than Ben, and a worker pull the whole spine out of a live fish in a single pull. We missed the 5 am auction, but still felt the pounding energy of the marketplace and a deep sense of accomplishment as we sat down to our massive plates of incredibly fresh sashimi at 8 am.

With tummies full of tasty fish, we headed over to the Tokyo-Edo museum. It is a massive structure, with recreated buildings of that period housed inside. We arrived just as the museum opened, and had a quiet half hour to ourselves before the swarms of school children descended. I was very in the historical accounts of life in Tokyo during the fire bombings. Of course I was intellectually aware of the hardships the Japanese citizens faced, but it was a different experience to see photographs from that time of windows being taped to prevent shattering during bomb raids, and read captions about how life changed in the city, and see the school children evacuations (just like in London). I know as a child I learned about how Londoners experienced the war, but never the Japanese citizens. I was also extremely aware of how my presence (as the only American) in that area of the exhibit might be affecting the other museum-goers. Ben felt similarly awkward as he stood next to an elderly Japanese man in front of the Hiroshima exhibit. I can imagine this feeling will be even more prevalent when we actually go to Hiroshima later this month.

After such an intense morning, lunch was definitely in order. Our guidebook pointed us to a local restaurant that catered to sumo wrestlers, and offered plates of traditional training food to the public. We split one order of a giant stew pot filled with 17 different things (almost exclusively protein). I know, it sounds kind of awful, but it was rich and savory, and each ingredient still maintained its identity. I think the reason it was so tasty was a very high bacon:everything else ratio.

We crossed a bridge and were magically back in Asakusa, our part of town. Even though it was barely 1 pm, we were so tuckered out from waking up at 5, so we made a stop at the local supermarket to pick up as many random and bizarre snacks to sample later, and crashed at the lovely ryokan Kamogawa, our second lodging. It is, in a word, heavenly compared out our last place. The rooms all have tatami mat floors, and the futon beds are incredibly soft, with huge puffy comforters on top. Ben and I are planning to stay here on our last leg of the trip.

Asakusa is utterly and somewhat painfully touristy, and we are basically at the epicenter of the action. But I still find this an ideal area, as we are in fact tourists, and the place is bursting with restaurants of all genres, shops, street snacks, and at night the area empties out, allowing us a peaceful night. Our ultimate find nearby is an ice cream shop. They boast organic ingredients, and have purely japanese flavors like purple yam, sake (the drink, not salmon), sakura, pumpkin (kambocha), sesame, and carrot! We've been two nights in a row, and have only come away with a deep sense of awe. My favorites have been the carrot and kambocha. I feel it is my mission to promote the adorable shop, and see it find it's rightful fame in a guidebook or resource site.

After a restful afternoon, we made our way to a modern art museum on the top floor of the highest building in Tokyo! It was basically as cool as it sounds. There were panoramic views of the city, and it was completely shocking to see the spread lights of a bustling city, stretched farther than we could see into the foggy dark.

We made it to Kyoto! I have many things to say about our last two days in Tokyo and our first days here, but am having a few technical difficulties getting this ryokan's internet to talk with my poor old laptop.

As a quick update, Kyoto is a very different kind of city than Tokyo. Ben and I have spent a lot of time discussing what these distinctions seem to be, but have still not been able to fully distill our ideas about it. It is quite a puzzling place with some pretty dramatic dichotomies. You can't help but trip over temples and shrines around almost every corner; but for all these abundant sites of ancient spirituality, the overall vibe of the city is something unexpected. The exact adjective for the vibe is still under debate, so we'll let you know as soon as we figure it out.

I had my favorite meal last night of the whole trip. You can be sure I've devoted a full post to it, with details later. I am also hoping to add pictures today!

3-12

"Excuse me, hallo, what is your name?
My name is (insert adorable japanese kid name), nice to meet you [cute little palm is stretched toward us].
Where are you from? [we place little red dot on a map] Oh! I see!
Do you like Asakusa? Here is a present for you [little origami something thrust toward us.]
Thank you, have a nice day!"

This little script, in varying levels of involvement, was repeated at least 20 times. We were walking through the touristy part of Asakusa, a long promenade of shops leading to a huge temple. Little groups of school children were running around accosting tourists, their adorable faces impossible to turn down. As we sat down to lunch, the three of us pulled out our stash of accumulated origami and counted our treasure. As the morning had progressed, the origami presents became more shapeless and less identifiable, until finally one group of kids started giggling because even they didn't know what it was supposed to be.



After lunch we saw the last act of the matinee show at the kabuki theater. The play was loosely based on 72 ronin. The special effects were incredibly, but subtly, detailed. In one scene, the lighting on stage and in the audience faded slowly (over the course of a half hour) from late afternoonish sun to twilight. In a later scene, two characters were fighting in a garden under blooming cherry trees, and as they rushed passed one tree dropped a small scattering of blossoms on their heads.

After kabuki, we walked around the Sony building in downtown Ginza, and navigated the (in)famous crosswalk with streams of pedestrians colliding from all sides while all the cars waited.



For dinner we went to our first sushi bar, and I ordered the "creative" sushi combination. The presentation and flavor pairings were, as you could guess, creative and also delicious. I tried uni (urchin) and cuttlefish for the first time, and loved them both. Meridith ordered the "roasted meat and roasted shell" plate, specifically to try the horse meat nigiri. I tried a bite, just for bragging purposes. Definitely not my favorite. Nor Meridith's (see below.) In a word: ick.

3-11

Yesterday was a very effective tourist day. We started the morning by walking around the Imperial Palace grounds, or at least the portions open to the gawking public. The huge stone walls and battlements were incredibly dwarfing. We were so desperately hungry (not many places in the area served breakfast), but lo, there was a starbucks. We had no other choice. Perhaps it was the blinding hunger, but I swear the packaged sandwiches tasted so much better than their American counterparts.

Next stop was the Meiji shrine, a Shinto shrine dedicated to the worship of the beloved emperor Meiji and empress Shoken. I wish we could have visited later in the spring, because the gardens are supposed to be amazing.



We next fought our way through the trendy and highly accessorized masses in Harajuku; endless alleys of shops and teenagers. I could hardly contain my own enthusiasm when I started seeing (and smelling) the crépe booths with huge lines behind them. There were at least 30 varieties of crépe to choose from, from plain with fruit and whipped cream to extravagant creations with wedges of cheesecake and all manner of toppings. The crepes were rolled into cone shapes and munched like ice-cream cones. As we had just had our third (out of four) meals that day, I couldn't bring myself to partake. Rest assured, I will be back.



One thing I'm really appreciating about Tokyo is the availability of quiet places even in the busiest areas. We ducked into a small museum down an alley way in Harajuku that was showcasing old style prints. Everything was silent inside, and our slippered footsteps were completely muffled by the tatami mats and carpeted floor. In the center of the first floor was a zen rock garden and benches. After our restorative break, we went back out into the bustle.

After such a long day of walking, we were excited to go to our first onsen, a public mineral bath house. The hot (~40 degree C) dark green water was almost uncomfortably warm, but felt amazing on our tired bones. Gentle readers should not worry, as this onsen was not co-ed. There was one section of the line of connected tubs that delivered "mild, stimulating electric shocks." Of course I had the luck to accidentally stray into it. One word: unpleasant.

Lesson learned today: there might not be food at the next attraction, so bring onigiri. And don't sit in the electrified tub.

Our first night in Tokyo went surprisingly smoothly. I reached my quota for minor document disasters when I left my wallet on the plane (but not passport). Fortunately the lightning bolt in my stomach realization about the missing wallet struck me in baggage claim, so we were able to find some attendants to help. As I sat there with Ben, trying to get the adrenaline and shame to subside, we talked about his past travel mishaps. I also learned "domo arigatou gozaimas" meaning "oh god thank you so much for saving my skin", which I was able to promptly use on the kind baggage claim attendant. Not that there was much in my wallet I needed: I hadn't taken out cash, and my passport was safely with me, but my picture of my puppy would have been sorely missed!

We figured out the rail line relatively easily, watching the narrow streets dwarfed by towering buildings go rushing past. Occasionally we could pick out interesting billboards. The final leg from our station to our beds was helped along by the explicit instructions from our first hostel (ryokan), as in, "Walk towards the Mr. Donuts, make a left after the AM/PM convenience store."

Reunited with Meridith, my room mate from college, who had arrived exactly 24 hours before us, we set out to find dinner and some more cash. We ended up at what must have been the McDonalds equivalent of ramen shops, but I swear it smelled so good! We slurped our ramen appropriately, polished off the gyoza, and made it back to the busy streets of Asakusa, and then to our futons on the floor. With buckwheat pillows. More about our accommodations later.

Lesson learned today: cats say "nya nya" and dogs say "wan wan"