A Self-Guided Tour in the neighborhood: Kyoto

I started my tour of the neighborhood on Saturday, August 26th at 8:50AM. It was the second day of this Japanese adventure, and my first escapade out into the streets of Kyoto alone or without spoken directions. I say spoken directions because I have realized throughout my educational career that I learn much better from people than I do from books. Just the day before I had successfully negotiated my way to the center from the dorm, and back to the dorm from Nishioji dori after being given my first lesson in Japanese food from Chris. On both of those occasions I had been given auditory instructions. On the self-guided tour I had to decipher the EAC guidebook as well as find each of the highlighted locations and take or have my picture taken. This might not seem like much much of a task to some of you, but for me there is difference between hearing vibrations and giving them meaning, and seeing symbols which need to be found in their intended manifestations. I think part of it is that I trust my hearing better than I do my vision unless of course the sound is my mother’s voice, and I have done what every irresponsible and disrespecting son does, which is to have selective hearing with her. Anyway, let us get on with the story of the neighborhood exploration.
There was major difference between touring the unknown land of India, and touring the unknown land of Japan. That difference, for me, was the humor found in Japan. In India it was very hard for me to get past the difficulty of getting around, the confusing cultural difference from my own, all of the trash, dogs, cows, and most importantly the sight of suffering people. All of those sights and experiences added to a constant feeling of hardship. I don’t really remember laughing much while I was there. On the other hand, this tour of my local neighborhood firstly produced laughter and entertainment, and secondly some squinting from sunlight, which made me look made in some of the pictures. There was one occasion that was not so pleasant, which consisted of a security guard at Izumiya’s reprimanding me rather loudly for photographing the large selection of prepackaged sushi. I was just thinking that my friends and relatives would feel a similar amount of amazement and mouthwatering, but I think he might of thought I was from a rival store trying to steal their ideas, or maybe not. I could not really understand anything except the loud voice, and aggressive arm motions. I certainly won’t be taking any more photos at retail locations unless I am absolutely sure that no one will see, or I think that the risk and reprimand are worth the visual documentation. I laugh when recalling this experience, but at the time I felt somewhat similar to what a child or a puppy feels when the parent/master scolds it in a harsh tone with unknown words. As you might have noticed, I also had a similar reaction to those archetypal characters of don’t do unless I think I can get away with it. I guess I have not fully achieved the adulthood expected of me, and probably never will.
I have explained the one uncomfortable situation, but have not yet depicted some of the humorous situations. Let me just forewarn you that my fellow classmate, Amanda, did not find the same humor in the following sights, so if you are not prone to laughing about cultural differences, language mistranslations, and the quaintness of this culture please excuse me while we take this interlude into my psyche. The first laugh that I received from the tour was found in professional uniforms. There were construction workers with MC hammer pants, towels on their heads, and work boots with big toes separated from the rest of the toes. There was some sort of inspector wearing seventies athletic shorts (the ones that are extremely short, tight, and have a stripe down the side), a t-shirt, and a hard hat. I found the police officer uniforms to be hilarious because they reminded me of the trundle-bundles (those one piece suits that have the dangerous genital catching zippers in the front) that my parents used to put us to bed in when we were small.
The next amusing sight came shortly after the inspector with short pants. Within a five minute walk from the Kitamoto dorm is a large dirt field surrounded by a fence with soccer goals, and two small shrines at the gate. Inside of the fence were about thirty sixtyish people playing some sort of golf/croquet game. The course consisted of several different flags. There was a long white line on the ground leading between the starting point and a flag with a basket-like structure at the bottom of it. The players would hit a colored plastic ball with a large ended putter. I did not watch for very long, but I gathered that they would continue until the ball was hit into the basket. I thought that this game looked very fun. I love to play lawn games like bacci, croquet, frisbee, and hacky-sack. Even though it seemed that there were not any young players participating, I hope that I can some day join the activities. I think that I could bring some loud excitement to the game.
I found some of the signs here to provoke some vocalized laughter. The first one that tickled my funny-bone was a "Milk Derivery" sign. I know that the confusion between l's and r's for Japanese people is common knowledge, but for some reason when I saw the sign I could not help but giggle. The next sign that made me titter was an advertisement for cricket jelly with a picture of a lemon with eyes and an open mouth. I have not yet investigated what cricket jelly really is, or what correlation there is with it and personified lemons, but the absurdity of the sight was hilarious to me. The last sign that caught my eye was less funny than it was disturbing actually. It was a music and video store that had a quote "Happy times with A&V". Part of the reason it made me laugh was the bluntness of the advertising. I think that the advertisement experts in the states are a little more subliminal with their messages. The other part of the reason that I felt the message affect me was because I have found sanctuary in television before in my life, and after each binge of television I do not feel happy. I usually have more of a drained feeling. Movies that are of high quality in the areas of character development, plot line, moral implications, and beauty are a different story, but I generally throw all of TV watching into the former category. I do not typically think of good movies when I think of TV. I guess that is because most of it is usually pretty bad stuff.
I saw all of this stuff on the way down to the place that I like to call "Japan's answer to walmart, Izumiyza's (the place where I was scolded). That store was five levels of everything from food, to school supplies, to clothing, and home appliances. Walking through the place was just facinating because it was a good depiction of Japanese consumerism. The first thing that cracked me up in there was a geisha doll in the jewellery section that had a large bobbing/bowing head. I actually took a three second video of it, and will show it if anyone is interested.
One of my more pleasent interactions with Japanese people happened in that store, which is pretty funny because it is also the same place that had the strict security guard. I was walking through the home appliance section when I came upon three members of a family sitting in some huge reclining chairs. Upon a closer inspection, it came to my attention that the chairs had oblong arms that the person's arms were inserted into. The chairs turned out to be massage chairs, but not the vibrating type. It was almost as if they were alive, or at least had little people inside of them giving pressure and strokes in different places. At one point I could see a lump rise out of the chair's head rest, and massage the back of of the neck. I just started smiling, and tried asking if I could take his picture. His wife and child started laughing and affirming my request, but he did not seem to be quite as pleased. Finally he agreed, and actually gave me a little smile.
Later on that day I met my classmate, Amanda, on the street, and we decided to go to the Kinkakuji Temple, or better known as "The Temple of the Golden Pavilion". That trip actually stiffled my laughter, but not in a bad way. It was the beauty and serenity that changed my humor into reverence. The archetcture of both building and garden was as beautiful as I had heard before coming to Japan. There were beautiful old trees with moss growing on the northern sides, ponds with perfectly placed islands, and buildings with angles and curves that seem to almost meld the masculine and feminine. I was silenced by the beauty. One sight I found particualrly interesting was the roof of the traditional tea house. It was about eighteen inches thick, and made of grass reeds. The top of it was veiled by a layer of moss. It was exquisit.
After the visit to the temple we decided to continue our tour in the forest behind our dorm. It was definately not as well manicured as the temple gardens, or as old, but there was plenty of beauty to be found from fungus to more gnarled trees. I have decided to do a photo documentation of my new friends the tree monsters throughout this Japanese adventure.
In all I think that I have been given the perspective of the contrast of beauty and corniness that exists here in Japan. Since I have experience with both of those as you might or might not know, it was not very hard for me to tap into those types of observations. Now, as I move into the next part of our four section self-guided tour I will have to watch to see if those viewpoints of humor and beauty are contiguous with my holistic experience of Japan.