Think deep thoughts, then go shopping

Today marks the year anniversary of my grandmother’s funeral. My niece’s birthday fell two days before & Robby & my wedding nearly a month later. What a fateful time of year that was.

Today Robby & I take the bus to the Ginkakuji (Silver Temple). He is still averse to visiting temples because we never really know what we’re looking at & only watch others worship. So we don’t enter Ginkakuji & instead take the Philosopher’s Walk downhill. Along a canal filled with weedy plants, some ducks & fish, trees hang low over the water & we stroll along a narrow stone path. Old houses line each side. We don’t talk about anything philosophical or deep. Instead, we chat about shopping & culture. We come upon a group of middle-aged art students sitting on a bridge & sketching the scenery with pencil & watercolor. Their teacher is a bald smoker who talks rapidly & eagerly in English. He makes sudden motions with his hands & jerks around energetically, like an artist with OCD. Robby thinks that he looks like as Asian version of Gene Hackman (as the Royal Tenanbaums father).

Returning to civilization, we catch a bus to the Heian Shrine, a large orange, white, & green shrine near the Kyoto Imperial Palace. Robby is more excited about the food in Japan than the gardens & shrines, so we search for lunch before going to the Kyoto Handicraft Center. Lunch comes in the form of fried chicken for Robby (the lunch special) & a yummy sandwich for me. We are the only foreigners in this little homey restaurant.

The Kyoto Handicraft Center is a disappointment. It’s a six-story building full of souvenirs, some of which is high end & some of which is all purpose. Most of it looks like it is made in China, & we are not interested in buying pearls & real woodblock prints, so we get out after exploring each floor.

After visiting one section of Kyoto University’s campus, we walk by a super-cheap sushi restaurant. Nigiri pieces are less than 150 yen each. We aren’t hungry, but we can’t pass this opportunity by. There is no waiter in this tiny restaurant. The sushi chef serves us tea & takes our order. He even gives us one free roll. 8 pieces of sushi for 550 yen. Unbelievable!

If you are interested in eating here, it is on near the corner of Maratumachi Dori & Higashioji Dori.

In the evening, we visit Rub a Dub, a local reggae bar that Robby had stumbled upon a few nights ago when he couldn’t sleep & went for a walk. We chat it up with Masa, the bartender. He is a kind & curious young man who tells us that he has difficulty meeting women because he can see their heart but they cannot see his (his words paraphrased). We sense that his occupation as a bartender prevents him from properly connecting with the women who frequent Rub a Dub. We are impressed that he conveys so much eloquence in English, a foreign tongue. We dance a little then meet Paul, an American expat who has lived in Kyoto for over 10 years. He is a radio music DJ & occasionally spins funk & old school hip hop at local clubs. He is so friendly & insightful, & we dive into an interesting discussion about the Japanese tendency to acclimate to different Western trends. He says that some Japanese happen to see an interesting hobby or style in a magazine, movie, or T.V. & take it on as their own. This acculturation of different fashions & trends is not defined by economic status or political beliefs. It is all about what they think is cool. There is no issue of authenticity, imitation, or misappropriation because everyone in Japan is, in a sense, a poser. In the states, people challenge each other’s authenticity to a certain genre they choose to identify with. Are you keeping it real? Are you from the street? Do you appreciate the history of hip hop or rock? This fosters a great deal of insecurity in us. We like hip hop, but we come from the suburbs...etc. This issue does not occur in Japan. They enjoy the fashion & music of a particular genre, whether it be reggae, hip hop, hippy, or gothic lolita, and that’s it.

We dance with the bartenders, and a lone salaryman quietly joins us. Robby teaches Masa an easy dance step, shows off his fancy footwork, then uses me as an excuse to leave (at 1:30am). I am unaccustomed to sleeping this late.

We walk through the Gion District in search of a cab, & the streets are crammed bumper to bumper with taxis that are waiting for patrons to emerge from the businesses & geisha houses (we think) in the neighborhood. We finally reach the large street & hail a cab, but he is going in the wrong direction. We get in, he makes a u-turn, then starts the clock when we have reach the point where he picked us up. Wow.