Personality of Kyoto, and Karaoke

(Yoshimasa-san, Mari, and me, at the French restaurant where Fumi-san had planned his surprise birthday celebration.)

April 3rd: Ever since my trip to Itoya in the Ginza district of Tokyo, I've been hankering to visit some Japanese stationery shops to purchase the beautiful stationery that I know can be found in Japan. (I'm a bit of a fanatic about beautiful stationery.) Since I feel so much better when I awaken today than I did the night before, I convince Kentaro that I don't need to go to a clinic. Instead, I could be spending my time more wisely, getting to know Kyoto and buying souvenirs!

So after breakfast, we leave our second traditional hotel and drop our bags at our next hotel, a modern beauty with a joyful waterfall inside. Kentaro remarks, "My Dad picked this one out. When he does, it always turns out this way." (Great taste!) Then we all set out; Fumi-san, Mari, Kentaro, and I, to visit the delightful little stores that I love. Fumi-san as always knows exactly where to go, and soon we find ourselves in a charming little area where beautiful stationery abounds.

In addition, I realize that this is my chance to get rice paper to repair some of the shoji screens and lamps that were injured by some of the cats who have lived with me through the years (back when they were kittens). I had called the store where I bought the shojis, and was told all I could do was put clear nail polish over it and hope for the best. Not good enough for me! Now is my chance to get the real thing!

(Little did I know, until later, that this hotel itself had a large gift shop containing almost every single thing I went out looking for. But, the walking was great.)

We stop in store after store, and in each I find some stationery slightly different than the last. Also, the rice paper. Soon my bag is full. As we walk along we find a cappuccino shop, so we stop for the Italian coffee and a Japanese pastry (they are the best! So light and tasty, not heavy and dripping with grease as pastries in America often are. Although I do not ask what the "kcals" are on these delicacies, I assume by their taste that it's within my acceptable range.)

We also walk down a street where, according to Fumi-san, there is the school where young girls begin training to be Geisha. At this stage, the girls are called "Maiko" which literally translated means "dancing child" (mai = dance, ko = child). I believe the age at which they start is about 12, and thereafter train in the arts of geisha for 5 years. It is very strict and intensive, and many girls do not stick it out. Those that do, go on to learn to be Geisha (or "Geiko" as they are known in Kyoto). I am by no means an expert on this, and in fact Mari had to correct me that Geisha are not courtesans or "high class" prostitutes, as I mistakenly believed. For more on Geiko and Maiko, this site, http://www.immortalgeisha.com/faq_geisha.php#faq05, has much information.

Whereas Geiko wears a wig and shoes that are much lower to the ground, Maiko must wear their high, elaborate hairstyle for a week at a time. I know from my own experience how uncomfortable trying to preserve a hairstyle can make one's sleeping, so I can only imagine what Maiko must go through. Also, Maiko wears a very high version of the traditional shoes. These are a couple of the differences (we learned these fascinating facts from the guide for our tour of Nara, an earlier capital of Japan, on April 4th).

Back to Kyoto. After a fun-filled (for me, anyway) day of souvenir hunting, which included a shop selling equisite pieces made from bamboo, I decide I want to get my hair done. Having voiced this wish earlier, Kentaro had scoped out a place, so we walk back. He and Mari find out the cost for what I want, then leave me at the salon. My stylist does an incredible job of washing my hair (I know that may sound funny, but anyone who gets their hair styled at a salon understands that there is a big difference in stylists' approach to the hair washing portion of the service. He has strong hands, and when he is done I know my hair has never been cleaner.

Then, although I said no haircut, he cut my bangs and styled my hair in the way that is popular in Japan: bangs across the forehead, and hair straight and flat around the head, curving slightly at the bottom. I protest that I want more "poofiness," so he takes out hot rollers, which really is not an improvement on his original idea. I should have left well enough alone! Oh well, at least I know my hair is clean.

Kentaro showed me a shop called "Evisu" from which, he says, Beyonce once bought jeans and wore on a Destiny's Child album cover. We go in to check it out, and I end up buying my son a very expensive T-shirt with 7 Japanese gods on it (not sure from what religion, but it's a cool shirt), and myself, a scarf.

I love the style of dress in Japan! There are so many beautiful girls and they have the coolest style: lycra style leggings, very short skirts, and heels. They all seem to have gorgeous black hair arranged generally in the style described above (or if longer, like Mari they twist it and pin it up in back so that it flops around), and scarves. The scarves may have been due to the cold weather, but it was a cool look, nonetheless.

I also got some crazy socks from a place called "Tutuanna" including some with pom-poms, and one with toes (like foot gloves). This isn't so crazy in Japan, where socks are worn with sandals.

We get back to the hotel just in time to welcome Yoshimasa-san, who has just arrived to join the festivities. Fumi-san explained that it was his birthday the day before, and she has made a reservation at a beautiful French restaurant (Fumi-san knows the places that serve the most exquisite food, how? I do not know). The first thing I said when I saw Yoshimasa-san was "Happy birthday!" then realized I might have blown the surprise. Graciously, Fumi-san said no, I did not.

It's very close to the hotel, so we all walk over there and enjoy a sumptuous meal. At the end, they bring out a special desert for Yoshimasa-san, and he seems to enjoy it very much.

It's Saturday night, and unbelievably Kentaro announces that he is going to visit his friend in Kyoto. I'm astonished that a young man in his twenties would rather hang out with his buddies than the fam, but I understand. The rest of us decide to try some karaoke. I love singing, not because I have any talent but just because I love to sing. Mari, who brought her guitar along on the trip, used to play drums in a band and sing, and she is a real "pro" at the music scene. She knows just where to go.

I've done karaoke before, in a bar and on board a cruise ship. But I've never done it this way, where you rent a private room and look at a TV screen, which displays the words to your selected tune while you sing along (2 microphones are included). Kentaro is the most fluent in English in his family, and I know only about 5 phrases in Japanese. So one might think that the language barrier would be a problem. Not with this group! In fact, we started out renting one hour and expanded it to 2, such fun we were having. At one point, Mari sang a beautiful Japanese (or Korean?) folk song, playing guitar and singing a sweet soprano.

Like most, there are so many songs in this karaoke book that it's a bit overwhelming. But just as I was floundering for what to sing next, Yoshimasa-san came up with an international favorite: The Carpenters! Luckily, we all knew them and sang our hearts out with song after song made famous by Karen. Finally, the fun-filled night had to end and once again Yoshimasa-san came up with a winner: We Are The World by Michael Jackson. I will always remember the wonderful time we had that night at karaoke. I returned to my hotel room with my heart full of happiness and joy.

Of course, much as I loved the music, what really made it so special was my hosts. If I could have picked anyone in all Japan to show me around, I could not have picked anyone more gracious, generous, and perfect than Kentaro and his family. I have never felt so welcomed and catered to in all my life. I hope they have even the smallest idea of how much their hospitality meant to me.

Pictures: (1) Restaurant menu; (2) Fumi-san at the table (3 and 4) Vegetable appetizer (5) Soup (6 and 7) Meat entrees (8, 9, 10, 11) Desert! (12) Us, standing outside the restaurant.

More on Tokyo and secrets of Japan

Pictures: (1-3) Sign at the second traditional hotel where we stayed; (4-6) View from/in the room; (7,8) The Japanese "Denny's"; (9,10) Saturday morning wake-up; (11) Our hosts bid us good-bye.

April 2nd (cont.): Before leaving to visit the Imperial Villa at Katsura on April 2nd, Fumi-san, Mari (who joined us that morning), Kentaro, and I had our bags dropped off at the second traditional hotel in Kyoto we would be spending the night at, that evening. The hotel's business card was all in Japanese, so I don't know the name. But the trademark for the hotel was an ancient Japanese lady's mask, pictured on their card. Mari patiently tried to explain the history of it to me, but I didn't get it, so I scanned a copy of their business card and posted it, the second image above.

Like our last hotel, this one also had the sliding shoji screens, traditional robe, and a futon to sleep on at night. However, instead of a scenic zen garden outside our window there was a river, along which people walked their dogs or jogged, on a narrow strip between the river itself and a tiny canal that ran alongside it. Later that evening, after the day's activities, Mari took her guitar (which she laughingly called her "boyfriend" as she lugged it around on her back all day) and gave a little concert for passers-by. Mari is a musician with a beautiful voice, and I am sorry to say that I conked out before she went to sing. So sadly, I missed it.

Anyway, after dropping our things off at the unnamed hotel, we went to see the Imperial Palace. Here, the tour was completely in Japanese and there was no handy translator box for foreigners like me, so my research was confined to reading the brochure.

I learned that Kyoto was the capital of Japan for over 1,000 years, having been moved from Nara in 784. The Imperial Palace served as a political and cultural center, and from the outside (we weren't allowed to traipse through the inside), it was very beautiful, indeed. Although a bit more ostentatious than Katsura and certainly larger, it contained similar strolling gardens which were spectacular. I don't believe anyone can top the Japanese for knowing how to create the perfect garden scene.

Here's the odd thing: (quoting the brochure) "The Imperial Palace, called the dairi, was situated in a fixed place...which was rebuilt every time it was destroyed by fire. While the Imperial Palace was being rebuilt, it was customary for the Emperor to move temporarily to the residences of members of the aristocracy." This happened so often, it seems, that the temporary residences came to be known as the de facto Imperial Palace, or satodairi. According to the brochure, the dairi was destroyed time after time by fire. It eventually fell into ruin, never to be rebuilt again.

In fact, the showy buildings that we saw were actually the homes of the aristocrats where the Emperor lived while the original Palace was being rebuilt, tme and again. What in the world, I wondered aloud, could have caused so many fires in the original Palace?? My guess was that outside enemies attacked it as Japan's center of power. Kentaro thought it was warring factions within Japan itself. However, it turns out we were both wrong. We were thinking too big. Kentaro asked the guide what was the cause of these many fires, and do you know what it turned out to be?

Bugs.

Yes, that's right. Apparently, the groundskeepers were trying to kill the pesky varmints, and kept burning the place down. For some reason (I was a bit under the weather at this point and may have been delirious), I found this hilarious. Talk about using a cannon to kill a fly! One would think that, whatever the bug problem was, it couldn't have warranted burning down these massively expensive edifices. Or, that they would have figured out after the first few disasters that maybe they should try another way. But, there you are. Human blunder flying in the face of art. Luckily, my hosts have a sense of humor, and joined in my merriment, although probably they were just laughing because I was chortling uncontrollably and it was contagious. Still, it does make one wonder about the competence of those groundskeepers.

Anyway, I managed to keep my mirth mostly under control after that, as I went on a quest to find a trash can to throw out my kleenex. And while visiting the Palace souvenir shop in my search, I did find a very cute kitty cat charm for my daughter, which was modeled after the symbol for Princess Aiko, the granddaughter of the current Emperor.

A sad note about trash cans in Japan: At first, when I noticed that there was not a trash can to be found anywhere (even in the lobbies of large hotels), I concluded that the Japanese must just be extremely neat. To be sure, it's rare to see any litter on the streets or anywhere else in Japan. At least not that I saw. But since I had a bit of a cold, I was always looking for a place to throw out my kleenex, unsuccessfully. So I asked what the deal was with no trash cans, and Kentaro told me that about 10 years ago, there was a disaster in a train station where someone put poison gas in a trash can, killing 3000 people. As a result, no trash cans. Anywhere. Sad to think that such a heinous act still affects innocent people after all that time.

And strange to think that in America, land of the ubiquitous trash can, there is so much litter everywhere.

But, I digress. We finished our visit to the Imperial Palace, and I was feeling worse and worse. The weather was cold, intermittently cloudy mixed with rain. To be considerate to my cappuccino addiction my hosts took me to a local Starbucks, then we ate in a restaurant that Ken said was "like a Denny's"; except that you checked your shoes at the door, wore slippers, and were each served on charming trays full of tiny portions of different foods (mostly vegetables and low calorie), along with a pot of tea. (See picture 7 above.) And of course, the wonderful modern Japanese toilets.

After that, we returned to our hotel, where I passed out on a futon after reassuring my hosts that I was "fine." I slept several few hours and was awakened by their return. They had brought me some wonderful fresh strawberries and edamame (aka baby soybeans still in the pod). It was the perfect meal for my challenged system, and I ate it with pleasure.

Kentaro also gave me two cups of dry soup (add water). As I always do, I checked for the "cals" (calories) on the package, and saw "170 kcals."

I'd seen the "kcals" notation on packages before on my trip, since I obsessively check the caloric content of every packaged food item I buy. I just assumed it was a different way of saying the same thing we say in America for calories.

So I asked Ken, what's up with the kcals? What does that mean? Is it the same as "calories"? Ken (who is slim as a reed and I am sure never thinks about calories), studied the package, and said, "Well, K stands for 1000. So maybe it means one thousand." This was too much for my weakened system to ignore (apparently being sick lowers my threshold for humor) and I started laughing uproariously, saying "Do you mean this tiny cup of soup is 170,000 calories??? That would mean I'd be fat as a house if I ate it! In fact, you're the only one who could handle that kind of overload!"

From there I collapsed into hysterical laughter, which Kentaro and the fam joined in. After all, laughter is the best medicine isn't it, no matter what the source? I think so. Kentaro wanted me to go to the clinic in the morning, but after the simple yet perfect repast (I passed on the soup), a good night's sleep, and the apparently enormous healing qualities of a good guffaw, I awoke the next morning feeling much better. (See the last two pictures, above.) And for the next week I would crack myself up, whenever I thought of that soup. (Okay, I still do.)

I've included some pictures below of the Imperial Palace, or at least of the back-up Imperial Palace. And please, no laughing. Bugs are a serious matter.

Pictures: A sampling of the Imperial Palace. Shots 2 and 3 depict two of three waiting rooms, where visiting dignitaries were escorted while waiting to see the Emperor. Which room they were sent to depended upon their importance. I think the White Tiger room was for the most important. Note also the beautiful cherry blossom tree in full bloom, picture 4.

The Imperial Villa at Katsura

April 2nd: We awakened to our beautiful quarters, and enjoyed the breakfasts pictured two posts back. In Japan, the custom is to shower first, and then soak in the tub, for relaxation only. At Hiiragiya Bekkan, this was taken to an even more luxurious level. Once entering the bath area and taking the traditional shower, I saw that the tub was a deep, stone hot tub, bubbling away for my sole pleasure.

This was a big day for me. The Chibas had obtained permission from the Imperial Household Agency to visit the Imperial Villa at Katsura, the place I studied with such rapt attention almost thirty years ago, in college. Built by Kobori Enshu in 1620, it is still universally acknowledged as one of the most architecturally perfect sites in existence, almost 400 years later. On a much smaller scale, my love for the beauty of this place has been reflected in my choice of furnishings for own my home throughout the years. My love for this type of setting has only continued to grow.

It was a chilly day when we arrived, and as we walked up the graveled driveway, a groundskeeper swept the leaves out of the gravel with a broom. This is the level of meticulous care given to every aspect of this phenomenal place. The tour was in Japanese, but I was able to wear a small audio box with an earphone which translated the essentials for me into English. Luckily, I had reviewed my book on Katsura before coming and was familiar with the history.

Many pictures are offered online of the indescribable vision that is Katsura, and most are far better than the ones I took. Therefore I will only offer a few here, and hope that you will become interested enough to check it out more on your own. (P.S. By "a few," I mean a lot! I tried, but just keep finding pictures I want to share of this beautiful place.)

There is nothing that was overlooked at Katsura. Every stone, every tree, every pebble, every bush, not to mention the layout and design of the dwellings, was placed with intention and care. Open air tea pavillions are strategically placed in areas designed to provide the participants with breathtaking views of the gardens. At one point on the site, where one could have surveyed the entire garden from that spot, a pine tree was planted to prevent it, so the visitors would be compelled to stroll the grounds and individually enjoy each aspect of the superbly planted grounds. Stone lanterns are placed at certain points along the edge of the pond to allow nighttime boaters (back in "the day") to see their way back.

Katsura was everything I thought it would be, and more. Due to concern for the age of the buildings, made entirely of natural materials, we were not allow to enter them. But we did get to sit in some of the outdoor pavillions, and walk the garden way that Japanese royalty walked, so many years ago.