Hasu Transitoire (The Transient Lotus)

Bamboo and maple alive with song Sun rising tiled peaks Paper screens sift afternoon sunlight A moment swept away (LD 8/30/09) It seems that all of my time in Japan thus far has been in preparation of today. I packed my five bags (one will recall I began with two) and worked fastidiously on the seminar schedule until late afternoon. My body was only running on one weak cup of green tea, but any hunger had faded hours ago in the face of such frantic finishing work.  There was just enough time to hop on bicycles and peddle through narrow Kyoto streets to Kurikame, a lovely Japanese café that stayed open past the typical 2:00 lunch closing. Taishō era low tables and chairs surrounded a raised tatami section where three young women sipped tea and ate cake. We were immediately brought English menus, since no one expects white people to speak a lick of Japanese, but the woman was delighted to hear me order in Japanese. We both chose zaru-soba (cold soba noodles with tsuyu [sauce]) a

Japan is an archipelago that lies thousands of miles away from the States, with vast ocean blue separating their shores. This is a glaringly obvious difference. What interests me more are the subtle nuances of culture that really make one take pause and reflect. For example, I changed rooms today at the hotel and when I arrived in my new room later in the afternoon there was a note on top of which were a penny and a green cap. Turns out I had forgotten the top of hair shine spray and one penny – ONE PENNY – somewhere in my old room. The maid had collected them, inquired whether I had checked out or changed rooms, and had them sent to my new room. If anyone has had this experience in America I would be astonished. It has been a little over a week into this Japanese adventure and my experiences have already been incredibly rich. Even my slight hangover from sake fun the night before could not detract from my happiness when I awoke on Saturday morning. Dark clouds hung low in the Kyoto

Waking up in Kyoto is a good feeling for me. This is such a special place - Japan’s capital for over 1000 years and the axis mundi of early culture, the study of which I have devoted so much time to. I put the hot water on to make green tea and gazed out the window toward the Heian Girls’ Middle School (how fitting it was called Heian!). After my morning yoga, reading, and daydreaming, I met Cynthea and we headed out for the day. Breakfast at a cute café consisted of tea and a dainty egg and cheese toasted sandwich. We made plans there to head to Nara (the capital from 710-796) after running a quick errand to the bank. This quick errand turned into shopping, as it does so often in Japan, and we spent an hour at a very lovely incense shop. It was so modern and forward thinking I had to keep reminding myself that they were only selling incense! I smelled about 100 different kinds, and Cynthea bought a gorgeous wood holder (and bestowed upon me a beautiful walnut one!). About three hour

My free-as-a-bird leisure time in Tokyo had come to a close. Time to pack up the miniskirts and burnout tanks and dress a bit more conservatively, so as to exude a bit more of a scholarly image. As I expected, the train crowd was mostly business men and women heading to another long day at work. In a certain sense I was doing the same thing, but fortunately my line of work is interesting and exciting (to me at least!). I took the morning train straight up the Ginza subway line to Ueno Station, eager to meet my former professor and current colleague/great friend, Cynthea Bogel. A nice stroll through Ueno park, past several small shrines and temples, lost-looking foreign couples, and a mother escorting her son to school, and I arrived at the front gate of Tokyo National Museum, an imposing complex of buildings that house incredible treasures. I was early for our meeting (a preference of mine), so I snapped random pictures and listened to the Grateful Dead. Out of the corner of my eye

Fearing I was sharing too much detail about things that might seem trivial to others, I decided to give the blog a rest yesterday. Today and Yesterday both consisted of solo mission-ing to various parts of Tokyo to track down books, art, clothing, and the like. Books were the focus of Tuesday, and I decided it would be pointless to go anywhere but the largest bookstore in Tokyo, the Shinjuku Kinokuniya. A book-lover’s paradise, it houses any and all kinds of reading material on seven massive floors.  My hand written (more like chicken scratched – my mom thinks my handwriting looks like Asian characters if that tells you anything) lists of ISBN numbers and partial English-Japanese mixed titles in hand, I started in the religious section. I was definitely the only Westerner in this section or on the entire floor of history/philosophy/religion books. I sometimes wonder if the average Japanese person, upon seeing my tall very non-Japanese physical form, thinks I am just pretending to

My jisaboke (jet lag) awoke me from what seemed like peaceful sleep (if you don’t count the evil death creatures I was battling in my dreams) at 4am for the third morning in a row. Tossing and turning eight different ways, lengthwise, sideways, twisted, you name it, I finally fell back asleep. My driver woke me for good at 7am, and I just went with it. Awesome morning yoga followed by plans to visit a gallery to see an amazing artist (Ikeda Manabu), meet a friend from UCLA for lunch, and perhaps try to accomplish a somewhat ridiculous sixteen book mission (using only ISBN numbers) bestowed upon me by my art history guru who arrives on Thursday (and who I’ll be traveling with for the next three weeks). I looked up “Kinokuniya bookstore,” a very well-known chain, and Google told me it would be on the fifth floor of Tokyu. “Sweet!” I thought, since I am staying about two minute’s walk from Tokyu honten (flagship store). Put on my purple mini and set out, headphones in ears, soundtrack to

No matter how grown up and mature I think I’ve become, all it takes is the company of a good old friend to make me laugh until I cry and act goofy like a child. Thank you, Bethany! In the morning, I headed two stops on the Yamanote line to Shinjuku to meet two friends I’d shared my first summer in Japan with. I was pleasantly surprised at the relative (I mean relative!!) coolness of the air and the gray haze that covered the sky. A small and unexpected delight. Shibuya was a-bustlin’ as usual, yet my train was not that crowded. Shinjuku station, however, was another story, but with Phish playing sweetly in my ears I navigated the crowds of seemingly directionless people and headed toward the south gate. No sooner did I scan my Suica card (train pass) when I was hug-tackled from behind! Thank god I recognized the face – Bethany! Unfortunately now my train pass had been scanned but I had not advanced through the corral-like gate, so we had the pleasure of mucking our way through

Watching the way a different world moves and bends is an experience everyone should have. I sat perched on a long bay window just one floor above a skinny, unnamed road for some time, my eyes drifting from one scene to the next. The old man with a blue towel wrapped around his neck, patting his forehead and taking long, slow drags of his cigarette. A young guy on a scooter loading and unloading books and papers. Two others lugging heavy stacks of women’s clothing and setting up a display out front of the tiniest three story building. Young girls scurrying to the train station, thumbs busy texting, more often than not wearing knee high socks and flowing skirts that bounced when they walk. An old woman, surely not an inch over 4’8”, moving slowly with a bag of vegetables. Taxis whizzing by with no ostensible concern for pedestrian safety, neatly dressed drivers with white gloves and clunky hats. The streets of Tokyo are a feast for the eyes at any and all moments, even when you would lea