I assume you've heard the term bucket list before. It's a phrase that implies there are things you HAVE to see, generally before you kick the bucket, but people also use it for singular trips. The bucket list of things you have to do when you visit Japan, for example. The thing is, I don't actually like this term. Maybe I'm too old for it - in a way similar to the fact that I'm too old to really understand bullet journals (they happened after my time, yo) - but I think the bigger problem is that they deny the reality that there are layers and layers of possibilities in every trip.
I'd been resisting the pull of Japan since leaving, telling myself that I needed to buckle down and save up before I went back, because when I went back I was going to DO ALL THE THINGS! I'd like to say that this was very practical of me, and applaud myself for not giving in to temptation...but I'm not really a very practical person. As you know by now if you read my last post, my resolve broke about a month ago, and I started thinking about what else I could do in my favorite city in Japan.
See, my first go-round was all about geisha, shrines, and castles. My focus shifted before I came back
three years ago, when I went to about a bajillion festivals and art workshops. Last fall I planned my trip around
art exhibits and yokai hunting. But the thing is there is ALWAYS something else to do there. For example, the Ningyo Kuyo at Hokyo-Ji. I've been wanting to come to this ceremony since I first learned that doll memorials were a thing in Japan, and this time the dates finally lined up. I went to the
Ningyou Kanshasai at Meiji Jingu, but this was completely different - more intimate and ceremonial. Hokyo-Ji is a Buddhist nunnery temple where the head priestess was traditionally an imperial princess. Normally they hold the ceremony outside, but since it was kind of rainy, we were gathered on the porch of the garden. I ended up with front row "seats" - before it started they ushered all the foreigners to sit on tatami mats on the left side of the ceremony - and although it was a struggle to stay awake after about five minutes of chanting while different VIPs made their presentations, I was rewarded in the end with a musical performance (how much do I miss taiko? SO much) and maiko dances. Sadly I still haven't gotten to see the funeral pyre, but I guess that's just another reason to go back - I hear Tokorozawa holds one in June...
Another temple I neglected on past trips was Kosan-Ji. This is where the Choujuu-Giga - a series of scrolls depicting animals doing wild and crazy things - were created. They're often considered the earliest manga, and although I'd wanted to see where they came from the last time I was in Kyoto, there's never enough time to do everything.
From a subway station near my hotel I could take one bus all the way to the temple parking lot, so it seemed like the time was right to finally make it. Actually
finding the bus was the hardest part - it was one of those pesky JR buses that doesn't have a number, and as much as I love Google maps, they still haven't figured out bus stops. The temple was beautiful, and walking across its wooden floors in my sock feet as I soaked up the sun was relaxing. But its best feature was probably how it demonstrates one of the things I love the most about this place. Kyoto is definitely a city, but all along its fringes are these beautiful bits of nature - mountains, forests, a lake. I've said it so many times that it hardly bears repeating: I'm a city girl through and through. But I grew up in the country, and I've lived in Mongolia so many years that I also enjoy leaving civilization behind every once in a while. Kyoto gives you both.
I steered clear of art museums this time but found more than enough art along my way. I stumbled across yet another Zen Buddhist temple as I was cycling around Gion on my fifth day, Kennin-Ji. I decided to go in on a whim - I needed to park my bike somewhere, since I was thinking about getting some ties cut that morning and Yasui Konpiragu doesn't have bike parking - but it turned out to be a serendipitous whim. I was struck immediately by the beauty of the gardens, most likely because I've been building one in which to display my sacred relics. If anything, I guess that was the driving force behind a lot of the sightseeing I did during this trip - later the same day I went to Eikan-Do specifically to see their gardens.
But Kennin-Ji also had some great art. They had screens of Fuujin and Raijin - gods of wind and lightning - possibly the originals, since they seemed to be selling an awful lot of swag featuring them. But they also had an incredibly beautiful contemporary sumi-e painting of twin dragons in the main prayer hall, done to commemorate the 800th anniversary of their founding. When I left the temple, I felt like I'd done my professional development for the week, and felt just that much less guilty about wasting time on shopping.
I did not, though, end up going to Yasui Konpiragu afterwards. See, in addition to a shit ton of shopping and hanging out with my padawan, I was looking forward to some quality time with Sensei, who turned out to be on vacation the same week as me, and announced that she'd be coming through Kyoto on her way back from Shikoku after I booked my ticket. I realized that she was the perfect person to go with to get my ties cut. See,
Yasui Konpiragu's kamisama is famous for cutting ties with prejudice, and after getting yet another email from our favorite cyberstalker, I figured I could use a good tie-cutting. Afterwards we wandered up to Yasaka Jinja, and then back toward Sanjo where her hotel was, stopping at Red Rock for lunch. I hadn't realized til I saw her how much I missed her.
After a full day of shopping in Osaka on Saturday, trying to scurry back to the hotel through the rain while protecting my treasures, I kind of just wanted to eat yakiniku and stay in for the rest of the night. But there was one, last thing I had to do; after flopping on the bed for about a half hour, I realized I'd be pissed at myself if I missed it, so I blow-dried my clothes, trudged down to the bus stop, and embarked on my way to Taishogun Street. I went there
last fall to hunt yokai, but I missed the main event - the Hyakki Yagyu, or Night Parade of 100 Demons. Given my own particular idiom, this was totally unacceptable, and since it was happening while I was there this time, I really had to make it. The Japanese do cosplay like nobody else in the world, with the end result being that you really felt like you were mingling with myths on the street. Eventually musicians joined us and began to play - oh my taiko! - and the ayakashi danced off into the night.
I continued down the street past the stalls of the Mononoke Ichi - a market selling yokai goods - just narrowly resisting the temptation to buy a paper kitsune lantern (it was 3,000 yen and I was already bringing back both kitsune AND a lantern, or else I might have succumbed). Further on Daishogun Hachiman Jinja was lit up with lanterns and stalls selling food, and I couldn't resist the lure of one more
kakigori before I left. Everyone should be so lucky as to both start and end a week in Kyoto with a matsuri.
