Thursday, June 5, 2014

Kyoto

Our first day in Japan wasn't under the most ideal circumstances: out late in Hong Kong until about 2:30, then up at 6:00 to pack and catch the train to the airport. I don't think I have to tell you that packing while tired and hungover is a terrible, terrible time. Nevertheless, we made it to our flight on time, thanks in part to multiple attributes of Asian airports that I've noticed over the last eight months: they're never that crowded, check-in is quick, and the security line is almost non-existent. In East Asia, I think this is due to a culture of everything being well-designed and efficient. In Southeast Asia, I think it's due to simply less people being able to afford to fly. Either way, the experience is noticeably different from American airports, which are crowded at best and shitshows at worst.

After touching down, we went through the usual immigration and customs procedures, where I experienced the most thorough airport inspection I've ever had. The Japanese security official was very friendly and could speak enough English that we could have a conversation while he unpacked and searched every pocket and pouch of both of my bags. At this point, I had eight months of Southeast Asian country stamps in my passport, which I guess struck him as suspicious. He asked me a lot about Thailand and Bangkok, so I inferred that he was concerned I might be smuggling drugs (which, admittedly, is big business in Southeast Asia). Lucky for me, I had taken most of my (legal!) pills - antibiotics, anti-malaria, Pepto, Advil, Tylenol - over the last eight months. I had thrown away the last of my pills in Hong Kong since they looked pretty suspicious in an unlabeled plastic baggie with a fine layer of dust on the inside. Finding nothing evenly remotely suspicious, the officer pleasantly dismissed me with a bow and I made a mental note of preparing myself for customs when I went back to the States. If this was Japan's reaction to traveling abroad for a long time, I would have to expect some snapping-rubber-glove treatment from America upon my return.

Since our flight was actually to Osaka, we had to take a train to get to Kyoto. Instead of getting the direct train, which would have been simple, we opted instead for the JR day pass and spent the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out the rail lines. After consulting Google Maps, paper maps, station maps, station signs with varying amounts of English, and one friendly, English-speaking train conductor, we managed to hop three trains and get ourselves to Kyoto Station. While mostly unappreciated in the moment due to our aforementioned exhaustion and hangovers, it was a good introduction to Japanese trains, something that would be immensely important over the next week and a half.

We grabbed a taxi to our hostel and noticed two things about it immediately: (1) it was immaculately organized and clean and (2) our room was the size of a closet (about 6' x 6'). Half of the room's volume was taken up by the bunk beds; the other half was taken up by a small desk and all of our stuff on the floor. We never spent a night in one of Japan's famed capsule hotels mainly because I felt like we got that experience at this hostel.

After grabbing a map of local businesses from the front desk, we set out to wander the neighborhood and find some dinner. Just as with riding the trains in the afternoon, walking around Kyoto on that first day was an immense amount of culture shock (by far the most I had on my entire trip). In retrospect, it was obviously due to being very tired and out-of-sorts from the previous night, but the cold weather, minimal English, lack of veggie options, and general indifference towards us added to the feeling as well. Unlike every other country I had been in, the touts on the sidewalks actually ignored the gaijin (foreigners). It makes perfect sense, of course, since Japan is a first-world country with its own culture and economy and doesn't need Western tourist money to survive. Still, I wasn't expecting that we would be left to our own devices.

Lucky for us, the map from the hostel had a few veggie-friendly places, so in our culture shock-y haze, we managed to find an excellent veggie buffet, though we were thrown a bit by the fact that we had to buy a meal ticket from a vending machine before we could be seated. I don't remember much else from that night, so I'm hoping that means we turned in early and slept like normal humans.

The next few days in Kyoto were much better as we started to understand the city and the culture (and were properly rested). Much as Chiang Mai is a smaller city in Thailand that's great to experience Thai culture without the craziness of Bangkok, Kyoto is a smaller city in Japan that's great to experience Japanese culture without the craziness of Tokyo. Kyoto is known for being the cultural center of Japan and the city feels much older and more traditional than Tokyo does.

During those days we explored a lot of the city and tried to visit as many temples and gardens and traditional areas as we could. We went to Nijo Castle and Sanjusangendo (known for its 1001 statues of Kannon), wandered around Gion (a neighborhood popular for geisha-spotting), took photos with groups of school children who were excited to practice their very limited English, and did our best to eat some local food. As with Hong Kong, finding veggie food was tricky and made more difficult by the fact that English is much more rare, so we had to expand our dining options to Chinese, Indian, and Middle Eastern if we couldn't find any Japanese. That said, we had some delicious veggie okonomiyaki, made more excellent by the fact that I had never had it before.


After going to Nijo Castle, we stopped in a cafe in the late afternoon and treated ourselves to some coffee and green tea spongecake. As we were the only customers in there, we started chatting with the two girls who were working and spent the rest of the afternoon helping them with their English and teaching them about America, made easier (and funnier) by using the Japanese tour book for America that they had on hand. Shortly before we left, they treated us to some cookies and our choice of a tiny animal origami piece.


That night, we went out for our usual dinner and drinks, though we should have guessed we were in for a good evening when I glanced out the restaurant window and spotted a geisha walking down the street. Andrew literally ran out of the restaurant to get a better look while I stayed put and enjoyed my sake. He assured me when he got back that he was respectful and discreet in his gawking.

After dinner, we decided to experiment with a new method for finding a bar and settled on the following (winning) approach. Kyoto - and, as we discovered later, Tokyo - has lots of buildings between roughly three and ten stories tall that serve as home to numerous bars and restaurants. The square-footage area of the building is usually fairly small, so sometimes there's only one business per floor. In America, you'd expect to find your dentist or your accountant in one of these buildings; in Japan, you expect to find your bartender. After looking over the bar signs (which are often in English) on the outside of the buildings, we'd pick a building that seemed promising and take the elevator to the top floor. We'd then descend one floor at a time, visually assessing any bars we found. We'd skip over anything too fancy, too empty, or anything that seemed closed off to gaijin. The ideal place would have a few people (no Westerners), darts, karaoke, and a down-to-earth feel. Even if the bar turned out to be a dud, it was easy enough to burn a drink and bounce; you don't need to know much Japanese to order "Asahi" and then pay for it.

Such an approach led us to a cozy, fifth-floor bar with green lighting, karaoke, darts, and about half a dozen customers. The bar staff treated us with slightly incredulous friendliness, noticeably confused/impressed that a couple white boys had found their way into this random local watering hole.

If I've learned anything from international nightlife, it's that smiling, being friendly, trying to use the local language when possible, toasting, and drinking will take you very far in social settings. Even if your grasp of the language is terrible, your feeble attempts at trying to speak it will be endearing. And if you know some local music too (or can only just namedrop, like me), then you'll be set for the rest of the night.

Armed with such tactics, we had ourselves a long and productive night at the bar. Both darts and karaoke played heavily throughout the evening (Andrew and I choosing to represent America with plenty of Journey, Bon Jovi, and Carly Rae Jepsen), there were multiple rounds of champagne toasts for a birthday boy (pictured below), and we made the acquaintance of a gentleman so inebriated, he fell asleep on the bar, then walked outside, faceplanted, and fell asleep again until Andrew picked him up off the floor. It was a super fun night and by the time we left around 4:00, we were friends with everyone in the bar. As Andrew would say, achievement unlocked!


For our last full day in Kyoto, we took the train to Arashiyama to visit the famed bamboo forest. Several paths wind through the forest and the bamboo are so incredibly tall that they block most of the sunlight. We stayed in the area until late afternoon and were rewarded with thinning crowds and increasing peacefulness. The bamboo wasn't as green as I was hoping (not like, say, Bali), but it's still one hell of a sight.


There are many cultural attractions in Arashiyama besides the bamboo grove, so we explored a few temples and some of the countryside before returning home.


The next day we went back to Kyoto Station to catch a shinkansen (bullet train) to Tokyo. It's technology like this that puts Japan generations ahead of America in terms of public transportation. The shinkansen makes the 320-mile trip in 138 minutes, which comes out to an average speed of about 140 mph, but that includes three or four stops; the trains can hit top speeds of about 190 mph. All the trains are electric, the ride is incredibly smooth, and the trains run every 10-12 minutes. You don't even have to plan your trip in advance; just show up to the station and take the next train. Seriously, get it together America.

After a ride that seemed to end too quickly considering the distance, we entered the 35-million-person beast that is Tokyo.

Full photo album: Kyoto