Week 2: Seeking Something Familiar

Slowly, the unfamiliar becomes familiar, the exotic becomes the daily. I’m getting used to having no idea where I am or what’s going on around me. But I try. Some little part of me is always scanning for something familiar and rarely finding it. One day this week we went to a temple pagoda high on an eastern hill and looked down at Kyoto, identifying all the places we’ve been.

We are too big here, galumphing gaijin who don’t both fit in a two-person bus seat and whose heads bump the hand straps in subways.

The most poignant strangeness is the most intimate: we are cooking local foods using Japanese preparations, and our house smells like someone else’s house, not ours. So last night, we made spaghetti with marinara sauce and garlic bread. The house still smelled like garlic this morning, and I rejoiced.

BEING TOURISTS. Yesterday we went to Kyoto Handicrafts Center in search of a “Japanese” birthday gift for the grandson. Five floors of beautiful silk, cloisonné and damascene as well as samurai swords (ornamental), porcelain geisha dolls and hand-painted kites. And of course, kimonos and yukatas. For some reason, buying kimonos seems to be a big tourist thing, but I can’t imagine when or where I would ever wear one at home. Would I put it on display? Where?

The most popular place to buy kimonos is the Temple Fairs (flea market equivalent). Sunday, we went to Toji, reputed to be the largest of these. We took the subway to Kyoto Station, then walked the 1/2 kilometer to the temple grounds. About two blocks before we reached the temple, the sidewalks became so crowded we could only shuffle along at a snail’s pace. Inside the grounds, people were packed so tightly, we often couldn’t see what was on display, much less stop to make a purchase. But the atmosphere was like a county fair, and we sampled Japanese “fair food,” my favorite being sweet potato slabs deep-fried and rolled in sugar.

LIVING HERE. Having discovered a ¥50 Japanese language class at the Kyoto International Community House, I’ve decide to learn some Japanese while we’re here. However, since I seem to have a sieve where I used to have a memory, my expectations are modest.

We found a terrific bread bakery in the neighborhood, open 7am – 7 pm. By the way, most small retail businesses are open six days a week. Thing is, they all take different days off—Sunday, Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday. I’ve already lost count of the number of times we’ve gone someplace and arrived on “closing day.”

I’m trying to figure out how you find what you need here. For instance, let’s say you’re in the market for used furniture (as we are). How do you look that up in the Yellow Pages? What’s the organizing principle (not to mention how do you read it)? And then, addresses have nothing to do with street location except to identify the neighborhood. Inside the neighborhood, addresses are assigned in the order in which buildings were built. Each neighborhood has a map posted somewhere, if you can find it.

COFFEE. Starbucks still wins the marketing prize: We’ve sought coffee shops where we can stop and regroup on our outings, or just people-watch. Most places serve one small teacup-sized cup of coffee for $3.50-4.00—no refills—and are full of people smoking. Well, not FULL because, in fact, they often have few other people in them at all. Starbucks, on the other hand, serves their usual array of drinks at about the prices we’re used to, PLUS they have a Small size (yes, actually called Small) for this market. In addition, they have not just a section, but a whole separate room for non-smokers. Needless to say, they have been packed each time we’ve seen one.

MYSTERY. Here’s something else we cannot figure out: There’s a smattering of Westerners here, not a lot outside the tourist spots, but we see a few most days. Without exception, they studiously ignore us and each other. Jonathan says he finds himself doing the same thing, and now I’ve started to, too. Anyone have any ideas why that might be? I find it extraordinarily odd.

Week 1: First Impressions

We’ve been here just under a week, and impressions strike fast and furiously:

POLITENESS. Thank goodness Japanese people are so polite. A street the width of 1-1/2 American automobiles is shared by cars going both directions—fast, bicycles, pedestrians and sometimes buses. If people drove with typical American aggression and entitlement, we’d all be roadkill. As it is, everyone adjusts casually and it all works.

By the way, both Daimler-Chrysler and Mercedes Benz produce small, classy-looking, fuel efficient cars for sale here. Wonder if we’ll ever see them in the U.S.

COLD. Before we came, everyone kept telling us it would be very cold in Kyoto. I’d check the travel guides regarding climate; they all said that typically winter lows are around freezing, and most days top out in the high 40’s and 50’s—sounded easy after New England, and I scoffed at the softies. In fact, my New England outerwear has been more than adequate for the out of doors in Kyoto. It’s for the indoors I reserve my longjohns. We haven’t been here long enough to get a utility bill, but I guess that electricity is very expensive because SO much care is taken to minimize its use. We have a heater in the living room and one in the bedroom. They do not have thermostats sufficient to maintain a comfortable temperature; we turn them on until the room is too hot, then turn them off. The hallway and bathroom never get heated (except by a small and inadequate space heater a previous tenant left), The hardest part for me is that the hot water is on a switch that gets turned on before showers or washing dishes and the rest of the time, we are washing our hands in ice water. Silly me. I turned on the hot water the other day to prepare to do laundry, only to discover that the hot water is not even attached to the washing machine--all laundry is done in ice water, too.

HOT WATER. We found the solution to the cold is easy and pleasurable. Fifteen minutes by train from our house, we were in quiet, misty mountains at Kurama, home of natural hot springs. For about $10, we were granted access to beautiful outdoors baths for as long as we could stand it. We came home shiny-skinned, warm to the core and calmed by the views.

SHOPPING. Some things are incredibly expensive (Bring gifts of good peanut butter if you come!), some incredibly inexpensive (a dozen crab balls for ¥ 198 or about $1.70). I saw a ¥378 apple next to a ¥138 avocado. We bought most of what we needed to supply our apartment, including a toaster oven and CD-player, for ¥24,000 or a bit over $200.

Sudafed and Claritin are both prescription drugs here.

PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION: Japan is known for trains and buses, and Kyoto fits the paradigm. We can go anywhere we want in the metropolitan area--including up the mountain to the hot springs--without a car. From our apartment to Doshisha University (where Jonathan is teaching), we take the subway. To go shopping at a department store, we take the bus. It's not cheap (most rides start at around $2), but it's certainly fast and convenient. What is sometimes confusing is the number of different companies that provide train, bus, subway service. The prices and rules vary and a ticket on one is of no use on another.

NEIGHBORHOOD: We live in a northern suburb of Kyoto, near two small village-center-like shopping areas. Thus far, we've found four grocery stores, myriad convenience stores (including Circle K and Seven-Eleven), a French bakery, a German bakery, a Kyoto-style bakery, two big drugstores, and many restaurants. We've been eating mostly at home, despite the enticing plastic models of sushi and other goodies that surround us, and we enjoy the shopping. We've got one bicycle so far (borrowed from the university), and a second one is promised this week. Wish us luck playing dodge-'em with the cars and motorcycles on the Kyoto streets!