Glimpses of Familiar Japan, Day 12 - Part 1 (The Silver Pavillion and Philosopher's path)

Ask the layperson on the street who is vaguely familiar with Japan what they think of when they consider the country and more than likely they will name three things:  Godzilla, Sushi, and the Golden Pavillion.  Most people in other countries don’t know much of this eponymous image of Japan save the picture of it, a building made of gold standing austere above a pond.  More than likely there are cherry blossoms surrounding it, giving a strange and heavenly sense to the building.   Yes, the Golden Pavillion is famous, it is beautiful and synonymous with Japan.    I didn’t want to see it, in fact I took great pains to make sure we avoided the place regardless.

The original structure was built by the legendary Shogun Yoshimitsu, and covered in gold leaf as a symbol of his prosperity.  It was destroyed by an arson fire after 1955 to the current building so synonymously known today.   It is also the bigger brother of another similar building called Ginkakuji or “Silver Pavillion.” 

Built by Yoshimitsu’s grandson it is a solemn, somewhat sad reflection on its elder sibling and never gained the silver leaf that would have truly given it such a fitting name.  The reason being that construction was delayed due to a war that would destroy not only Kyoto but the dynasty of Yoshimitsu. 

Ginkakuji is the more uniquely fitting of the two structures, the one with the greater story.  The golden pavilion is a gaudy, self-absorbed building built by a great man in the height of his power.  The silver pavilion was built by another man, seeking greatness, and finding only destruction.  Despite this, of the two, the Silver Pavillion is the original, it blends with nature in its unfinished state rather than stands out from it. 

(Main structure, with the pond and reflection)

(Sagano Neighborhood)

Ginkakuji sits in the district of Higashiyama, the same area with wooden houses and narrow streets which we had walked through on our way from Kiyomizu.   The Silver Pavillion perfectly encapsulated everything about Japanese temples and shrines that we experienced.  I think my Dad put it best.  "You are close to everything, and yet removed from it."

That is the spiritual core of Japan in a nutshell.  When you step through torii, or along pathways or gateways into any temple or shrine, you leaves the known world behind. 

Temples are a different world, usually, from the hubbub of daily society.  They may have shops and stalls, crowds of people, but they are best when you are alone, unto yourself.  It is there, in that sense when you are an island in the sea, that the spirits speak and the past unfolds.  Japan’s spiritual heart is heard beating, even as it feeds the modern society of tall skyscrapers and the hurried paces.  I can see why the Japanese treasure these places.  They are the escape, the sanctuary and the solace they desperately need, a return to simpler time and space.

(Temple entrance of Ginkakuji)

Entering Ginkakuji Temple grounds, we were greeted by a group of gardeners still tending to leaves and twigs as they swept them into their piles.  So fastidious these people are, these caretakers of a legacy, and they work even as you pass nearby as if you were never there.  The whole of the temple grounds encompasses the pavilion itself and perhaps the most beautiful garden we visited the entire trip.

The silver pavilion is not an ornate or gaudy building, but rather very simple and unassuming.  Two stories tall, its only true embellishment is a golden phoenix on the top.  The rest is smooth, worn wood paneling, windows and round embellishment’s like onions on the siding. 

(Gravel sea meant to invoke tranquility.)

Wherever you go in the garden, the pavilion is there, reflected in the pools, peeking from around walls or over trees.  It’s a welcome sight.  Following this, is the smoothed gravel rock garden, resembling a smoothly rippling sea flanked by a cone of gravel in the shape of Mount Fuji.   This is an intentional design.  I have no idea how they made the shapes, let alone retain them.

(The "Fuji Mound" so named because it bears a likeness to Mt. Fuji.  This is supposedly for moon viewing.)

(The main structure with the Fuji Mound and gravel sea in the foreground)

(Narrow bridge to the structure)

The garden is populated by rocks, pines, and flanked in the back by a forest of bamboo.  As with other gardens we visited, there was abundant water, trickling and tickling the senses.  It’s a large place, but with a certain sense of sincere intimacy.  At several points you can climb up and take in a view of garden, pavilion and the city beyond.  We stayed a good while in tranquil surroundings before making our way along the Philosopher’s path.

(Ginkakuji blends into the trees, with the surrounding neighborhoods of Higashiyama and Sagano in the background)

This walkway follows the canals through residential neighborhoods and beside equally famous temples, though we only visited one or two in passing.  The houses here were larger, more luxurious than anywhere else we’d visited.  As with everywhere in Kyoto, the presence of water leant a sense of timelessness and abundance.  We followed the canals along to the main one which feed into Kale Biwa near the Kyoto Zoo.  The only temple of note was Nanzenji, which had a huge gate famous for the thief Goemon visiting it.

(Nanzenji Gate)

(Sagano Neighborhood)

In all, the walk became a solemn reflection for me that our journey was at its end, though this was not the last thing we did.  

Glimpses of Familiar Japan - Day 11, Part 2 (Nishiki Market)

Nishiki Market has existed for about four hundred years and many of the shops and stalls have been in the same families over that period.   Walking down it one is surrounded by everything that can entice the five senses and perhaps awaken the sixth.  There is the sound of people  milling about or shopkeepers calling out their wares and intermingling with their customers.   To either side one sees shops selling things great and small, bright neon colored spices, wiggling fish, knives like samurai swords.  

Textures are everywhere, from gripping octopus tentacles, to smooth satins and silks for you to run your fingers through.   The most important senses however are the taste and scent.

Nishiki Market is a paradise of food, of smells and tastes for the traveler to try.  While I did not attempt any at this time, going back there I would gladly spend an hour at each of the stalls.   Foremost in my mind of all the things I experienced were two particular shops.  The first was a fish stall where Octopus stuffed with quail egg sits speared on a stick.

The octopus itself is small, with tentacles down and skin bright red, looking almost like a lollipop.   The presentation alone is enough to catch the eye, which is then drawn to the eels, salmon, tuna, and other things in the display.  Just looking at the thing, you want to eat it, or at least I did.   

Just down the way is another stall, with belching steam coming out of this huge machine.  It had a warm, nutty aroma, and I realized they were roasting chestnuts.  The aroma mixed with other scents of the spice shop with its cinnamon, clove and chile.  

I feasted on senses as I stood there a moment at the knife shop while my Dad perused.  For a moment, I was a stone in the stream of time as people filed in front of me and I beheld the moment in Nishiki.  Right across from me was another fishmonger, an old man in white apron and hat with a face like a humanized Droopy Dog.  He had these sad sunken eyes and low hanging cheeks, and the way he stood hunched beheld not his statue or his product.   Such beautiful fish he had in that display, great gaping mouths and wide eyes. 

 Occasionally he would call over the crowd.   I don’t know what he said, but it was like a siren song, long and low.  I wanted, if anything, to simply go and carry a conversation, find out who he was and why he did this.  I wanted to know each of these people, their stories and their dreams.  There is more to the market than food and wares in the history and lives of the people who run it and it was the only time I truly and desperately wished I spoke Japanese. 

We left Nishiki Market with a strange sense of quiet sadness.   Our journey was approaching its end by this point, and the next day would be our last before we headed back home.   With a heavy heart, I left the street and its wonders and secrets behind with the hope I would come back again someday.

Glimpses of Familiar Japan - Day 11, Part 1 (Sagano, Arashiyama)

Tenryuji temple.

The odd jr train that took us to Sagano.

I call this area Sagano, because it says that on the map, but its also known as Arashiyama.   It’s a beautiful area bordering a flowing river that flows through the center of it.  On either side are buildings and forest giving way to rolling hillsides.  Arriving there you will encounter  Rickshaws and their drivers. .  

We should have hired one to cart us around and save us the walking.  These are the Sherpas of Japan, and frankly they needed to be everywhere we went.  They’re very knowledgeable, friendly, and usually speak pretty good English.  Alas, we did not use one, and walked to Tenryuji temple which lay through what seemed a normal and nice neighborhood.

Approach to Tenryuji

Tenryuji has a strange almost Swiss alpine look, with a tower and white walls and slanted wooden roof.  It looked like it belonged next to the Matterhorn to me.  There are two separate tours, one for the garden and one for the temple.

Gravel garden just outside Tenryuji

One of the remarkable views.  I could sit here for hours.

There was almost no one there, perhaps five or ten people to start in a courtyard space that could have housed hundreds.  Carrying on with our tradition of early bird, we went inside and boy were we not disappointed.  As the name ryu implies, there is a dragon painting of a magnificent beast of grey and black and gold, with its big bulging eyes and lion face.  He was certainly gorgeous to behold.  

View inside the temple.  Note the portrait on the back wall.  

This particular stone was in a part of the pond that caught the light beautifully with the background.

The fish were swarming underneath this little bridge

Unusual rock formations.

A look at the garden and temple from the east end.

The Tenryuji garden was perhaps the second most splendid one I saw in Japan, just behind the one we saw at the Silver Pavillion later on.  Flowing waters of deep, crystalline blue cascade down and around rocks and trees so perfectly arranged as to provide a centerpiece with a  backdrop of the autumn colors.   The stones here are so varied, jagged and smooth, moss everywhere and great gaping fish swimming like nymphs beneath the slowly drifting water.  Gone are the sounds of the busy streets.   There is nothing but you, man made nature, and wild nature, all within a space about the size of a large backyard.  

The water is not terribly clear, but the reflection is still pretty remarkable with the colors.

No words can do justice to this garden.   Even thinking about it, looking at the pictures, I can scarcely describe it in any other word than serenity, and we had it almost completely to ourselves.   We stayed a good while before going out into the Bamboo forest. 

So thick you can't see through to the lake on the other side.

A wall of bamboo just sprouts the middle of the busy street before you, a pathway cut into it like a tunnel beneath the swaying fronds.  I’d seen bamboo forests elsewhere in Kyoto, but not in the middle of the city. All around me were rows and rows of bamboo separated from us by a thick, prickly fence of dried twigs.  The tall bamboo reeds loomed everywhere, shifting slightly through what little wind there was. 

Supposedly at night, this path lights up and it is a sight to see. It has branching paths with other temples and gardens we could have seen but decided against.   Here and there along the path are art studios, tea houses, and residential homes.  We passed through with a slow, easy stride, and there were other people here at last.  They didn’t seem to mind us as we walked through our tunnel of bamboo.

The path leads through the forest, flanked on either side by this unique bristled fence.

Looking up unto the fronds.  You can hear the whisperings of each leaf in the wind.

We ended up at Nisen-in temple, which is nothing special from the onset to me at first. Then I discovered something that changed that theory.  There is a large Japanese gong bell here, one of those traditional huge things that hangs down like a massive bronze tulip and has to be rung by a log; and you can ring it.   I’ve always wanted to ring one of these, and after seeing several other people do so, I thought what the heck.   I walked up.  The bell was at least twice my size, at least to my memory, and I gave the clapper a good long swing.   CLONG!  

Temple Bell

It was quite satisfying, a highlight or me. I would go back solely for this, though with my luck its since been roped off.

We went back for nunch at the station, where we had a lovely meal at a bakery.  Along the way though, we decided to pass by Tenryuji again.   The difference between morning and afternoon was extraordinary.  The empty courtyard was now packed wall to wall with people and the tour busses were just arriving with their passengers.   I cannot stress, again, seeing this, how important getting out early is key in Japan.   Things are mobbed by the early afternoon, especially on weekends like this one. 

Colorful decorations on a nearby shrine.

We were thankful we saw the garden when we did and headed back to Central Kyoto.  My goal was to show my parents Teramachi street, and Nishiki market.  We stopped at a small shop selling woodblocks and I began to peruse the wares.   There were so many, but only one caught my attention.  It was a print of Fushimi Inari’s seemingly endless gates, perfectly orange with their black trim extending from the front of the print into seeming infinity.  I bought it without a second thought. 

(A copy like the print I bought.  I found this here:  http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/236x/af/11/96/af1196916ca76fc4e787851f18cc5af0.jpg)

The true highlight though, was Nishiki but before I describe it a warning.  If you’re claustrophobic, as I am, Nishiki Street is not an easy pass.  The space is only wide enough to maybe hold two people abreast, but despite that hundreds pack its two to four block length. My dad is even more claustrophobic than I am and he felt like he was about to die, or so he said.  It was as close as we ever came to a rush hour in a train car, yes its just like that.  Regardless, onto Nishiki in part 2.

One the open gateways to a temple we found, looking out into the bamboo forest.  There is something unique and mystic in the views from these gates.  They seem to yawn and beckon, don't you think?

Glimpses of Familiar Japan - Day 10, Part 2 (Kyoto Imperial Palace and Terramachi Shopping Street)

There are many little miracles we had while in Kyoto, and it just so happened that the time of our visit was also something akin to the Emperor’s birthday.  As such, the Imperial Household Agency had opened up the Kyoto Imperial Palace just for that day.  We headed over there intent on checking out this ancient seat of power.  

Central courtyard of the palace

Main gateway

Each room of the palace has doors that open outside and then sliding walls detailed with animals.

Lovely ichebana.

This is a kemari feild (Japanese soccer) 

More lovely ichebana

It's hard to see, but this is one of the two coronation thrones of Japan.

Second throne, I believe this is the emperor's as it was much larger.

The Kyoto Imperial Palace is a model of simplicity and very much a Japanese design.   The walks are wide with little trees here and there, gravel courtyards and wooden buildings.   Rooms are divided by walls of paper, with wide spaces where people might have slept or lived at one time.  We passed by the thrones used for coronation, and massive ichebana probably created for the day’s events.  On the whole, it was a lovely place with trees draped down over ancient rocks, and flowing water passed under bridges. 

A stone bridge in the corner of the garden.

These stone areas were quite beautiful.

Beautiful little bridge

A cherry tree.   Not in bloom.

One of many rooms facing the garden.

Kitty-corner to the palace is a Mc.Donalds.  I haven’t eaten at Mc.Donalds since I was 12 or so, but right then and there the thought of a quarter pounder was so appealing I didn’t care that it is usually never good.  This was an unusual Mc.Donalds because the food was not only delivered TO you, but it was delivered in an upstairs area for eating.  The three of us had the best tasting burger we’d eaten in quite a while there, served by an amicable staff that was very prompt. 

We got back to the hotel and I decided to walk around.  I emerged at a covered pedestrian street perhaps no wider than two sidewalks put together.  There were buildings on either side and crowds of people further down it.  There were the flashy billboard arcades, the more subdued bookstores, art shops, and rows upon rows of restaurants and other stalls.  

Entrance to the Teramachi Street.

It doesn't show all the people here, but they are just beyond.

One of the book stores along the street

  There were manga shops, packed to the brim with their wide-eyed protagonists.  There was the aforementioned arcade with j-pop blaring and flashing lights and sounds like all of Vegas packed into a space no larger than a living room.   Here and there were more serene spots, little shrines with statues of cows or other such deities, like isles of tranquility.  I used these for breathing space, then continued on before going back to the hotel.

This is a smaller version of a famous crab restaurant in Osaka

It wasn’t noisy, strangely enough. The roof of the shopping street was high enough that the sound didn’t really bounce back.  What did surround me though were distinct smells.  Ramen, udon, fish, steam rising from pots and places where people sat on crates munching on the most delicious looking food.  I wanted to go into the manga shop but I really didn’t know what I would look for as I’ve never read a manga  (blasphemy for any Japanese culture lover I know).  

This is just an example of the amount of people.  It's hard to see how many there actually are.

This was one of the last stores.  These are plastic foods of course for display.