Kyoto: The Locals

In the morning, I said goodbye to Hajime-san and his wife Noriko-san. I wrote my impression in the second edition of their guest book on the kitchen table. I wondered about all the guests who had written their short stopovers — how they ended up here, how their lives continued. As for me, I wondered if this journey would be my only once-in-a-lifetime experience. For a moment, I was suspended in time.

• • • • •

I was heading to Kyoto but got stuck at Hikone train station. I was supposed to attend a Couchsurfing Japanese calligraphy event at 10 AM, but the train information screen showed a bridge crash on the way to Kyoto. The schedule was delayed by 45 minutes. The event was held by a local woman named Comachi. I told her that I might be late or at worst couldn’t make it to the event. She sounded a bit sad but kindly offered me half-price if I still wanted to join midway.

• • • • •

I think it was from comics that I knew Kyoto was the ancient capital before it moved to Nara, then back to Kyoto, and finally to Edo (Tokyo) during the Meiji Era — probably something to do with geography and politics. Also, To-kyo and Kyo-to seemed like anagrams.

• • • • •

Inside the waiting room at Hikone station. I saw two old women having a conversation and a schoolgirl with the iconic blue uniform playing with her tiny phone. The summer heat was so damn blazing. Kansai region is famous for its humidity and lack of wind during this time. I felt a bit uncomfortable. This reminds me of the days before I left my hometown, every day there feels like summer. My school uniform always got wet after school or after taking an afternoon nap, and at night I often faught for a fan with my brother.

• • • • •

I arrived in Kyoto at 10:25 AM. From Kyoto station, I walked fast to the event location. The atmosphere slowly changed into a remake version of old Japan. I passed through a pathway lined up with traditional wooden houses on the left and right. Inside the event place, I saw two other people painting a kanji character on a paddle fan. It turned out that Comachi wasn’t the one who taught the calligraphy class, but her friend Saisyu, who was teaching someone in front of her. On the table, there were piles of paper that had been used for practice. Brushes of all sizes were neatly lined up. Saisyu invited me to sit and gave me some papers, a brush, and orange ink. Since she couldn’t speak English fluently, she spoke Japanese while Comachi translated into English. She explained a bit about the writing systems, then asked me to pick between Hiragana and Katakana composition of my name. I picked Hiragana. She continued by demonstrating the brushing techniques and the way to control the pressure to maintain the ideal shape. I mostly screwed it up, but she patiently guided my hand to feel the pressure. “Here, we believe that the way you brush and the pressure you put represent what kind of soul you have inside.” After a bunch of practice, she gave me an uchiwa fan and black ink to brush my name on it. “Orange is for practice,” she added.

• • • • •

After the event, I walked aimlessly. I still hadn’t booked a place to stay yet. The heat burned my skin. I walked in a hurry to the alley I’d passed through earlier and stopped in a cafe called Cafe World. I ordered an iced coffee and vegetable spaghetti. I checked my phone and looked for a hostel online, but then email notification appeared from a couchsurfer host I’d contacted the night before.

From: Mayuko
-Hi, sorry for the late reply, I just check your request.
-Have you arrived in Kyoto?
–Yes, I have and still looking for the hostel
-If you haven’t booked one you can stay with us. -Do you know where you are now?
–I’m at a cafe on.. wait..
-Shimmachi-dori but I don’t know the area
-I’ll share you the location. –Can you find your way to Kawaramachi Station?
–I’ll meet you there at three-thirty

I arrived around Kawaramachi Station earlier than I thought. I sat on a stone bench surrounded by a small garden beside a crowded intersection. Mayuko arrived and greeted me without any awkwardness, as if we were old friends. She wore a white t-shirt, long blue monotone skirt with flower motifs, and a small bag over her shoulder. Her hair was a medium-length bob style with bangs, like the most common haircut among Japanese women. And i’m glad that she speaks English fluently, with her local accent still clinging nicely.

• • • • •

Sometimes later on the way: -Do you know why traditional Japanese vertically written? –Hm, not really, but once I’ve read that they borrowed the writing system from the Chinese. -Right! it’s borrowed from Chinese, and to simplify it Hiragana and Katakana was developed. One theory is that in ancient times most of the East Asian people write the text on a bamboo or formed a social habit of giving signal through bamboo tree which is written in vertical. -What about today? –After world war II, horizontal writing becomes more common, nowadays we use both but depends on the occasion, we called it Tategaki for vertical and Yokogaki for horizontal. Tategaki commonly used in newspaper, letter, novel, manga while Yokogaki is used in textbooks.

• • • • •

I asked Mayuko if she knew any interesting hidden places here. “Hidden…?” she looked a bit confused. “You mean less popular places?” “Yes, interesting but not popular” then she nodded.

• • • • •

We took a bus to an area close to Heian Shrine. Mayuko lived with her family in a typical semi-traditional Kyoto house (Machiya) surrounded by residential buildings in quite alley. Her family ran a small bakery and pastry shop nearby. When I asked how long she has been living here, she replied, “I was born here, I grew up here, study here. I probably know every inch of this city. Ha ha.”

• • • • •

I’m going to stay with the family for three days until Sunday. This is my first experience staying with a host, a complete stranger I met a few hours ago, so I still feel a little bit clumsy. But Mayuko seemed very friendly, which at least put me at ease. I’m staying in a room on the second floor. She has apparently hosted a few people before — on the wall, there was a board with photos of previous guests and picture from her travels, and decorated messages.

• • • • •

-Do you have any plan for today?
–No, but tomorrow i’m going to Fushimi Inari Taisha and Gion, any advice?
-Fushimi is super crowded all day and it’s very hot this summer, you’d better come there early in the morning or late afternoon. -Let’s go there now if you’re not tired and I’ll show you around

• • • • •

A yellow Suzuki scooter spur on the road. “turn right at the intersection — just go straight till the end — that’s Kamo river — over there is Gion but let’s go to Fushimi first — so many cafes along this side — have you tried sake? — that’s McDonald’s”

• • • • •

// Phone notes at Fushimi Inari Taisha
Giant Torii gate: Romon Gate
Like pi (π)
Inari: kami of Rice—kami is Shinto god
Fushimi: the name of this district
Taisha: type of shrine
Kitsune: fox—the kami’s courier
Courier? like messenger? ((sounds like a prophet))
Senbon Torii: thousands of torii gates
Like entering another dimension
Might get optical hallucinations as you walk far in
Might cross paths with boars and monkeys

• • • • •

-do you believe in ghosts?
–Yes, when I was a kid
–There is a Chinese cemetery not far behind our house, I can see it from my room’s window, but I’ve never seen anything strange except some cats who opened their basecamp and fight from time to time. –One day my cousin took a vacation and sleep in my room, around 2 AM he woke me up, trembling pointing at the window, there was a big shadow of a creature with a horn and strange shape, I went outside, and it turned out just a bat perched on the windows.

• • • • •

At night, the air is neither cold nor hot. People are seen walking more casually on the pedestrian, perhaps because tomorrow is Saturday. We stop around Shimogyo Ward — an area packed with Izakaya pubs, standing bars, and shopping stores. We continue by walk through the side alleys filled with people coming and going then crossing the Kamo river until Gion District — famous for its traditional arts such as Geisha and Kabuki. “Most tourists usually come here during the daytime but this place actually starting alive at night”. The street is lined up with traditional machiya houses decorated with lit red white lanterns and noren curtain which serve as teahouses, bars, and restaurants. Not far just an inch in front of us two women with white makeup and traditional kimono come out from a machiya.

• • • • •

-Look! that’s Maiko
–Maiko? do you mean Geisha?
-Maiko is a Geiko/Geisha on training before they become Geiko
-First of all, they are not a prostitute but there are some of them ended up having a relationship with their patron, but it’s a personal choice. -They usually start around 15, live with a host family and other Maikos, and Geikos. Their early days filled with a lot of traditional music, dancing, instrument, and ceremonial training.
-They should behave in public, their clients nowadays are mostly tourists or loyal patron, and their income is managed by the host -In exchange for those training, kimono, and the residence?
-Yeah, sort of… as a Maiko get older and have more experiences they will become a Geiko, and usually have a loyal patron and earn more -Geiko kimono decoration is more simple than Maiko, Maiko use high sandals called Okobo while Geiko use a small one called Geta -Anyway, Geisha term is commonly used in Tokyo, in Kansai area it’s Geiko, but the meaning is almost the same — Gei for ‘art’ and Sha for ‘person’; there are also male Geisha called Taikomochi, and the other one who usually associated with a prostitute is called Oiran. –Do you know Dewi Sukarno? a Geiko who married Indonesia’s first president -I think I’ve seen her on a TV show. She worked at a high-end place in Tokyo.

• • • • •

Somewhere near Shinbashi-dori alley, we enter a tachinomi bar called ‘Kokoro’. The bar offers various drinks & dishes such as sashimi, miso, egg mentai, and sake. Next to us on the standing bar, some tourists just finished one bottle of sake. I ask Mayuko why she seemed so conent living in Kyoto, why not Tokyo or somewhere else. “That’s the answer, I already feel so content to be here, life is much more relaxing; the living cost and the social pressure is much lower; the people are more talkative; and the most important part, my family is here”. We stay there until nine then take a short walk aimlessly in Kiyamachi-dori, down to the road next to the river.

• • • • •

I started the day reading about the political situation in Indonesia. The election had ended about a month earlier, but the uproar is still going. The issue is about 527 election officers (KPPS Officers) who had died of exhaustion during the vote count. An immense ocean of disappointment reverberated on social media. Prabowo Subianto and his proponents were furious. They’re still contesting the results and trying to fight for their rights, whether justified or delusional.

• • • • •

Half of Kyoto is still asleep. The birds in Okazaki park is chirping on the cherry trees. In front of the park, the Heian Shrine was still quiet, waiting for the tourists who would soon arrive.

• • • • •

‘Heian-Kyo is the old name of Kyoto.’ ‘This shrine was part of Kyoto Imperial Palace in the past.’

• • • • •

Every building I pass is a mystery—I often mistake them for cafes, tea houses, izakaya, guest houses, or other kinds of shops.

• • • • •

Sakura season has passed, it’s the verdant turn that enlivens. Since I started my journey from Tokyo, I’ve visited a dozen temples and shrines—enough to give me temple fatigue. At this point, I feel a little tired of traveling. Not physically tired, but tired of consuming so many different experiences in such a short time without space to absorb and reflect on them.

• • • • •

Kyoto is the kind of place that will give you homesickness even before you leave. I’m constantly imagining moments I want to watch in slow motion.

• • • • •

I take a nap about an hour before writing down this note. From the window, I can see a grey cat lazing near a flowerpot on the neighbor’s yard. Earlier on the way home, Mayuko told me another stories about the city, jumping from one topic to another as we passed different places. “That’s my high school. This is the famous Sanjo-Bridge where Samurai always meet and used to battle and perhaps drink coffee in that Starbucks.” Sometimes it’s better to just enjoy the conversation, be part of it without worrying about what I’m going to write in this note.

• • • • •

Late afternoon, we strolled around the Kamogawa river, only a few hundred meters from their house. We walked through Kyoto University, where she was still pursuing her degree. I saw a giant tree standing in the middle of the campus area which had become the university’s symbol. We then took a rest at Kawabata park next to the Kamo river and spent the rest of the afternoon there.

• • • • •

“Tō-Kyō ( 東-京) and Kyō-To ( 京-都 ). They have different ‘To’. The Tō in Tokyo means ‘East’ and the ‘To’ in Kyoto means ‘City’, while ‘Kyo’ means ‘Capital’ for both of them. So, Tokyo means ‘East Capital’ and Kyoto means ‘Capital City’. This is because Kyoto is our old capital before it eventually moved to Tokyo in the east part”

• • • • •

Tonight, Mayuko’s mother serves us a typical local food called obanzai, a variety of dishes such as rice with mushroom, miso tofu, vegetables, fried fish, and other small cuisines. It feels like my own family dinner. Her mother and younger sister curiously glance and exchange smiles among themselves as if I am a judge on a master chef show.

• • • • •

I wondered if anything was immune to stereotypes. Even gods couldn’t escape them.

• • • • •

YouTube sniffed my activity in Japan. Its algorithm recommended me “The Evolution of Japanese Music” video. Covering music from the 14,000 BCE Jōmon to the 1980s J-Pop era. The Jōmon music sounds like common tribal music from a primordial time—rustic drums, mouth echoes, skin claps, people dancing around fires. The following eras get more simple, almost silly. It seemed like the Japanese gradually gained their musical characteristics after the Meiji era, because before that it mostly sounded like Chinese traditional music.

And the comment section:
Yayoi Period
“Enough with the 14000 years of heyoing, let’s try these metal sticks we’ve found”
Guy #1: “He man listen to this sweet song I made” – dings triangle bell 3 times
Guy #2: “Whoa dude, sick beats”
“Nostalgia! who else is a 14000 BC kid and remember this masterpiece?”

• • • • •

Last day. We go hiking to the Takao area in North Kyoto. The roads remind me of Bogor without traffic on Sunday. The atmosphere is pretty calm, and I encounter only a few foreigners along the way. We pass some beautiful temples as we walk higher – a temple with a giant bell called Saimyoji, a temple surrounded by the oldest tea plantation in Japan called Kozanji, and a small temple on the riverside whose name I forget – instead of getting bored, this time I’m actually quite enjoying visiting temples.