Day Five: Kyoto

Going back and re-reading a lot of what I wrote, I realized I am an angry, vindictive, and petty person sometimes. I apologize, as that is usually not the case. But I also wish to apologize for the forthcoming anger...

So, the usual morning thing happened... woke up, crappy breakfast buffet (but to be honest, all I really need is cornflakes and I'm good), got dressed for walking around. Except this time, Dad had his conference stuff, so I headed down to meet with the other engineer's wives who supposedly had some sort of day trip to Kyoto planned. Except they didn't. What they all really wanted, in their heart of hearts, was to shuttled around Kyoto in an air conditioned bus, with a perfect English speaker telling stories of mysterious castles and geishas.

Problem was, random hotel concierges in Kobe don't know anything about booking sightseeing tours for midwestern housewives around Kyoto. Go figure. There was one wife there who was rather cool, armed like me with just a guide book and some basic understanding of public transit, but she was the only non-American in the group. (Sidenote: She could have been my ex Shannon's twin sister) The rest were just typical upper middle class "moms" I guess. We took the shuttle bus to Sannomiya Station and away we went.

(Flips through Dante's Inferno) "Yep... 3rd circle of Hell."

The day started on a high note with everyone getting the hang of the train. Every stop was "Are we there yet? This train is awfully long". All that, ignoring the fact we were on a local commuter train which linked Kyoto to Kobe and Osaka. Sorry, but you guys didn't have the bullet train passes...

Several of them were pleasant enough, but early out, a couple them were complain-y already. So... here we go.

(Random lady from group) "There's just too many people! Doesn't anyone drive? They make all those cars out here."

The train station is actually a Transformer.

It's the home of Osamu Tezuka, the godfather of manga and anime!

We all agreed to rally in front of the Astro Boy at 3:30 if we all got split up for whatever reason, but everyone stayed in their pack and bought the 5oo yen "All Day" bus pass to hop on the express bus to some of the best temples. (P.S.- Kyoto, spared from most of the bombing during WWII, has dozens of Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines sprinkled all over the city. There was one between a police box and a 7-11.)

The look on their faces when the bus driver dropped us off at a deserted alley...

Gate entrance.

We paid the 500 yen to get in and we started up the hill in the forest to the main temple...

And then, peeping out from behind the trees was...

Kinkaku-Ji! All that "yellow"? It's gold leaf...

Carp...

"Should. Have. Sent. A. Poet. Instead they sent a barely literate simpleton who communicates only through a complex seuquence of clicks, grunts, Star Wars sound effects, and Simpsons quotes."

When I told one of the group that the temple was only 59 years old, she looked shocked. Wikipedia explains:

On July 2, 1950, at 2:30 am, the pavilion was burned down by a monk named Hayashi Yoken, who then attempted suicide on the Daimon-ji hill behind the building. He survived, and was subsequently taken into custody. During the investigation after the monk's arrest, his mother was called in to talk with the police; on her way home, she committed suicide by jumping from her train into a river valley. The monk was sentenced to seven years in prison, but was released because of mental illness on September 29th, 1955; he died of other illnesses shortly after in 1956. During the fire, the original statue of Ashikaga Yoshimitsu was lost to the flames (now restored). A fictionalized version of these events is at the center of Yukio Mishima's 1956 book The Temple of the Golden Pavilion.

Also, I had my mushroom "eyes" on.

I swear to you, this was an actual praying mantis hanging out in front of a shrine to the Amitabha Buddha.

And it was a bit of tourist trap. Every level had a shop selling malas (prayer beads), good luck cards, etc... But someone has to pay the upkeep.

And this was cute. A group of schoolchildren on a field trip gathered around helped their disabled classmate down the steps. It was crazy steep. So we left the temple complex, and right down the street less than a mile was the Ryoan-Ji. Home to the famous dry rock garden and on every must see list I read. But first, on the way, we had to stop a fucking gift shop, stock up on plastic overpriced shit for the kids and take pictures of cute things.

"Fuck it, I'm bored."

So we're about halfway there down an inclined road, and the "my feet hurt" chorus starts up. Fuck. Everyone protested, and I debated just going ahead, but they decided to wait for the next bus... that would drop them off 100 feet down the road.

And when we got there, there was a steep hill to the ticket booth. And a guy was sitting out front with a sign in broken English apologizing for the scaffolding while they repair the main temple grounds. Well, that upset them deeply, so they all decided to rest their tired feet (reminder, total distance walked was well under a mile) instead of paying the 500 yen admission fee and then try to find Diet Pepsi in one of these vending machines "because all they got is Coke Zero out here. I don't like Coke Zero!"

They were all hoping I would turn back with them, but let me tell you something... I didn't fly 6500 miles and watch that crappy "Land of the Lost" remake with Will Ferrell on the in flight movie just to eat some rice, buy a fake samurai sword, and fly the fuck back. All these women became this lady to me for the rest of the trip. This is a UNESCO Heritage site, one of the most beautiful man made things on Earth, and a profound statement of spirituality in my chosen faith.

You better believe I'm walking up these stairs. The "leader" lady (who, admittedly turned out to be cool) told me to take my time, but they seemed so dependent on me, the one who lives in an actual city and uses public transit everyday, to read bus maps, timetables, communicate with people, etc. So I did a horribly rushed walk through the temple grounds...

There's a sign there saying "Please Do Not Wear Shoes on These Boards". I, in a hurry of course, stood on them and got the DIRTIEST look from a Buddhist nun. My bad. Remember... mindfulness, you dumb oaf.

I didn't take this picture, it was just my MacBook's wallpaper since Dad told me we were going to Japan. But this is it. And the "heavy construction" taking place was two guys with a tarp and some bamboo scaffolding doing some light work to a wall.

But the garden got me thinking. Wasn't I just laying my "vision" of Japan over theirs? They wanted it to be a place of shopping and "fine" dining in the hotel, while I wanted to have an adventure and eat at every dive we passed. Was I not just bullying them the same way they forced their wants on me? If I'm even a half-assed Buddhist, shouldn't I understand their really is no "me" and "them", that we're all one great thing woven together in the fabric of our interconnected nature? By ignoring their wants basic discomfort, wasn't I ignoring a promise of compassion to all living things? Doesn't this make me a thousand times worse than them?

In summation, Why do you have to be such a dick all the time?

So coming down the steps to meet the ladies with renewed energy and a better understanding of myself, I met them at the rest area and listened to their ideas for what they wanted to do next. Well, while we were walking back, I observed a dad playing with his daughter and racing her up the steps and I said "I think Japan treats their children a lot better than back home." One of the ladies, and probably the worst complainer, replied "Oh yes. And the elderly too. With all our abortion and the what Obama wants to do with those 'death panels', America just doesn't seem to care anymore."

Well then. (Deep Breath). So much for that.

To whom it may concern,

I honestly just wanted to cordially invite you to hop in a large burlap sack so that I may wail on it with a mallet until the sack stops moving. Your tiresome bitching and moaning in the face of unsurpassed beauty and tranquility has brought nothing but shame to your country and your race, and this coupled with whatever fresh hate your snake-handling, closeted gay preacher and/or Fox News has spoon fed you now spewing out of your mouth has driven me to state that I wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire. But I would take a healthy shit on the aftermath.

Hugs, Patrick.

I'm nothing if not passionate. And on a related note, I've discovered I'm just as shitty a Buddhist as I am a Catholic. So I got that going for me. Which is nice.

(Please be an electrified fence, Please be an electrified fence, Please be an electrified fence, Please be an electrified fence, Please be an electrified fence, Please be an electrified fence...)

Dammit, the first chance I get I'm going to lead these people into the worst neighborhood in Kyoto and trick them into eating monkey- OH MY GOD LOOK! THE ADORABLE BRIGADE IS HERE!

Oh Japan! You always know just what I need. Be it a cybernetic arm that hoses down my taint, or a couple dozen tiny kids in matching outfits just when I was wondering how to plant drugs illegally on a woman in her late 50's from Washington State.

And another instance of supernice Japan, this woman was showing them where to transfer buses to get to another shitty souvenir stand. Honestly, I could have been helping, but I was busy looking up "White Slave Trade" in the back of my guide book.

Yeah, this is promising.

"Sign you're in a tourist trap #67: Fat American kids in kamikaze bandanas. I'm out of here."

"Excuse me, yes. See that group of women over there? Yeah, I'm with them. Could you tell me which sword, when used to commit ritual seppeku, would make the biggest mess to 'send a message'? That one? OK, Arigato Gozaimasu"

Ditching them, I wait for the bus. Know what's awesome? When the buses hit the stops, they have a radio or a transponder or something that let's you know about how far away the bus is to the stations up ahead.

"Excuse me, that's someone's finger... I didn't say stop."

"I promise to never complain about the #66 Chicago bus being packed again."

When I got off, I'm pretty sure in most cultures, me and the French couple behind me were considered married. (That's funny because the bus was packed supertight and because the French are promiscuous."

"Oh, white people. I've about had it with you today. What with your 'skis' and 'mayonnaise', chalky devil."

"Clearly directed at Americans."

I ended up running into the ladies again (What are the odds?) in the subway station/mall thing. I couldn't race away fast enough to grab a late lunch surrounded by girls that look almost exactly like Go-Go Yubari from "Kill Bill".

"Liberace thinks this looks too gay."

That was curry rice with a panko-fried pork tenderloin and melon soda. It came with a free fanny pack. Dad had to have been getting worried when the ladies came back without me for some reception the folks were having. So I got my ass to the train and hurried home.

"This is probably what Coruscant looked like at first."

I threw on the first clean shirt I saw and met dad at the reception. Vowing to never complain about his lack of adventure again.

"Good God, that's a lot of navy blue sport coats."

Anyway, I excused myself and went up to the room while Dad rubbed elbows with engineering's elite. Kyoto day was a little bit of a failure, but I saw some soul-wrenchingly awesome things and tomorrow is Osaka!

Let's go out with some Osaka music to get me in the proper mood...