Hanging out in the 'Hood

Here's a little about our neighborhood and our day-to-day life in Kyoto. We live in an area of Kyoto called Hanazono, after the Emperor Hanazono who founded a nearby temple. Hanazono is in the northwest of the city, slightly off some central city maps, but quite close to Ritsumeikan's main campus and about 2 miles from the law school. The apartment complex is large (we're in Building #24) and quite basic, as I've mentioned before. We are fully into the spirit of Kyoto life--we air our bedding and hang our clothes to dry on our little balcony, which is for exactly that purpose, not sitting.

The neighborhood has the usual Kyoto blight but also some lovely old wooden homes, called machiya. For a number of reasons (fear of fire during possible World War II bombings and misplaced "modernization"), many of the machiya were torn down and replaced with parking lots and apartment complexes. But we are lucky in that many of the streets we walk down daily have retained some machiya. Interspersed with these lovely old houses is the common Kyoto sight of a vending machine--they are found everywhere, dispensing coffee, tea, and other drinks.

Around every corner is another temple or just a little shrine next to a house like this one. There are two major temples quite nearby, Myoshin-ji, which I have mentioned many times, and Toji-in (next picture), which takes up lots of the land between our apartment compex and the Ritsumeikan main campus. Many professors' offices look down into the temple grounds, which are quite beautiful and include a splendid little tea house.

We often see monks in the neighborhood. Here are two hurrying back to Myoshin-ji at 5 pm.

Our little "main" street, Ichijo-dori ("First Street"), has a series of wonders, including Japan's only shop that sells custom-made chopsticks. I bought a pair made of ebony that were custom fit to my hands.


Another wonder on Ichijo-dori is a place called Jumbo, a little dump with lines of customers standing outside the door all the time. We finally succumbed to our curiosity and ate there. We, of course, had to wait. Then we were seated on the floor at a low table with a grill in the middle. A mixture for "Japanese pancakes" is poured onto the grill and once it's cooked, you just eat it off the grill. Oishy (delicious)!

There's lots, lots more. The neighborhood includes two high schools, so gaggles of students, in uniforms, are always around. We can hear them cheering at an athletic field close by, but the field is completely screened from view, so we don't know what they're playing.

Our time here is rapidly drawing to a close. I have only two more classes next week. This past week, Bill and Sondra visited my Wednesday class, the second of two on Sex Discrimination. Given somewhat rigid gender roles here, I thought the students might find some of the American law quite odd. But here's a surprise--Japanese sexual harassment law is actually almost just like the US version with quid pro quo (called compensatory here) and hostile environment. It is, though, a separate cause of action in Japan and not shoe-horned into general employment discrimination law. They also have something called "Power Harassment"--fascinating. Next Thursday, I'm giving a presentation to the Gender Studies group at the main campus, on Saturday we're invited by a colleague to a "Summer Music Party" at a small museum . The famous Gion Festival starts next week with a parade of floats and days of activites. So, we continue to be busy, but as we move through the days we feel less and less like the tourists we were six weeks ago. In some kind of way we have gained a sense of place that is uniquely our own.

Sushi for Breakfast

Tokyo, where else? The sushi capital of the world. We went early to Tsukiji, the site of the world's largest fish market. Fish is off-loaded on the docks at 3 am (we didn't make that part--actually, we wouldn't have been allowed into that area). We did find our way into a huge set of warehouses where the intermediary sellers were selling their fish to restaurant owners, chefs, and fish shop proprieters. Acres and acres of every kind of fish you can imagine--and quite a few you have never imagined. A wonderful, bustling part of Tokyo that we loved. Men in waders pushing carts and driving small loaders--moving constantly. In fact, we loved that most about Tokyo--it's vibrancy and busy-ness--it's over-the-top newness juxtaposed with the ancient gardens and structures of the Imperial Palace and the temples.

In Tsukiji, outside of the fish market, there are small streets lined with the tertiary sellers--small sushi bars and shops selling fish and everything else one would need to prepare the fish--spices, pickles (of course), pots, dishes, and knives. At 9:30 am we ate sushi at one of the small bars. It was by far the best sushi we have ever had. It tasted like walking on the beach with the salt foam between your toes and the occasional spray of salt water in your face. It tasted like all the sunrises and sunsets you've seen over the ocean. Yeah, we really liked it.

I had been to Tokyo before--over 20 years ago and I remembered not liking it--neon and big buildings and crowded elevators. "Lost in Translation" was not lost on me. But this time it seemed different and I was enamored. I'm guessing I've changed more than Tokyo. This time I found it one of the best cities of the world. The new skyscraper architecture is gorgeous. I was gaping with my head up--like a Texan in Manhattan.

Then there were lovely "old Japan" places, like the garden at Nezu Art Museum, where I found this wonderful little Buddha, almost covered in moss.
And the grander, but still tranquil, gardens of the Imperial Palace, right smack in the middle of the bustle.

We were in Tokyo to meet up with my friend, Sondra Byrnes, who is visiting for a few days. She had some business in Tokyo so we met her there and came back together on the Shinkansen (Sondra is off today doing an ikebana lesson, then has 2 days of tea ceremony lessons--both of which she has studied for years). In Tokyo, Bill and I wanted to tick off 4 more paintings in the "1,001 Paintings to See Before You Die" book. We went immediately from the train to the National Museum to see 2 paintings--"Beauty Looking Back" by Moronobu and "Winter Landscape" by Sesshu. We did see some wonderful paintings, but not those two as they were "not on display." Seems that the museum rotates works according to season and now had its "summer" paintings on display--the "cooler" ones, we were told. We could, however, in the museum shop buy everything from a mouse pad to a pen with "Woman Looking Back" on it. Not to be deterred, we took the complicated but efficient Tokyo Metro to the Nezu Museum across town to see "Irises," a magnificent large screen painting by Korin. We couldn't find it in the 5 rooms of the Nezu and when Bill inquired about it, he was given a brochure that explained it had been on display a month or so ago. Yes, 0 for 3 at this point. One left to go. We went to the Imperial Palace to find the last, "Chinese Lions" by Kano Eitoku, that is displayed in the Palace Collections. Closed on Friday. We returned on Saturday only to discover--you guessed it--"not on display." We are renaming the book--"1,001 Paintings You Can Try to See Before You Die."

Kabuki, hydrangea, and all things green

Will the wicked woodsman chop down the giant cherry blossom tree? Not if the spirit of the tree can reveal to him the beauty and importance of the cherry blossom. Kabuki theater. On Friday night the spirits were with us and we managed to see the final performance of the season at the Kabuki Theater here in Kyoto. An absolutely fascinating experience that seduced us into something like genuine enthusiasm. But who knew? The theater itself seated maybe four hundred people and we had chosen tickets up in the balcony. When the lights went out and the curtain went up we were in total darkness and an elaborately costumed woman was alone on the stage. Of course, there are no women in Kabuki, not for centuries. So, we were seeing the most famous Kabuki interpreter of female roles--Bando Tamasoburo (a rock star in Japan). With a voice and drum accompaniment, (s)he moved very slowly through a sequence of slow (did I say slow?) movements which, in effect, created one full turn of her body. Along the way her brightly colored robe slipped off her shoulders onto the floor revealing another brightly colored robe beneath. This pantomime took fifteen minutes and then the curtain was lowered to thunderous applause. Terry and I looked at one another utterly clueless (truth is--Bill said, "is the paint dry yet?"). Was this Kabuki? An intermission after just 15 minutes? And then it really got weird. Virtually everyone in the house took out bento boxes or something similar and began to eat while sitting in their seats. Everybody. Big boxes of elaborate Japanese dinners. An indoor picnic. A full 25 minutes later the next act started. We were more than clueless at this point.

And that's when the woodsman made his appearance. For the next seventy-five minutes in a kind of vaudeville dance melodrama, the story unfolded while the house lights were merely dimmed. Three actors, in white make-up, would occasionally chant dialogue, but most of the time their feelings and thoughts were chanted by eight different male singers, but always one at a time. In one corner of the stage the woman had a group of five chanters along with five players of some stringed instruments to express her feelings and the woodsman had three of each across the stage. So, the telling of the story became an incredibly nuanced version of their inner conflicts. (There was also a tragic love story with a handsome but sad young man and a white bird hanging from a pole. But we'll leave his story for another time--it includes a bird bringing some kind of message, but we never quite understood it all). The woodsman gets drunk (an enormous red bowl of sake) and is going to chop down the cherry blossom tree with a huge axe. But a scrim in the tree trunk rolls up to reveal the spirit of the tree. She exits the tree and then the conflict begins. I didn't worry too much about the tree, but became engrossed in the feelings that were being expressed through all this elaborate staging. Actors often speak of their "instrument," but here the traditions of Kabuki gave the actors a complexity of "instruments." The woodsman had a costume change on stage (stagehands in black and gray scurried in and ducked behind the figure to help with the change) that revealed him to be some kind of evil figure. It was all quite wonderful. We couldn't take pictures so the ones here are from the program.


That was Friday night. Earlier that day, my Ritsumeikan colleague Yoshi Yamada took us to tour the Imperial Palace and out for a fabulous lunch at an all-tofu restaurant. Trust me, tofu comes in a seemingly infinite variety of tastes and textures and it's very good! Here's a picture of me and Yoshi in front of one of the building on the palace grounds.

Sunday we took the train to Uji, a small suburb south of Kyoto city that is famous for tea production. We went to see the requisite Byodoin temple with its famous winged "Phoenix" roof. But thanks to Jeff (my colleague and predecessor in this job), we hiked all the way to Mimurotoji Temple, way off the beaten path. As we neared the temple, the crowds increased and we discovered that we were visiting at the height of the hydrangea blooming season. It was spectacular! Acres of hydrangea of every conceivable hydrangea color--bright blues and purples fading into the softest of pinks--with blossoms the size of dinner plates. Earlier in the spring the garden had been ablaze with azaleas--those are the lovely green shapes in the background. At the top of an even steeper climb, we found the temple itself and Bill caught me at one of my favorite temple activities--ringing the large bell.















The little town itself, at least on the streets around Byodoin, seemed bathed in a green glow. Shops sold green tea flavored everything! We ate green tea noodles and green tea ice cream, and sampled a few other green tea delicacies. We've both actually developed quite a taste for the bitter frothy matcha of the tea ceremony, so I bought a whisk and some powder for our home consumption.

Monday again and not raining. It's the rainy season, but so far we've been quite lucky as it usually rains at night. Many of the days are heavy and humid though. Two classes this week (a relief after last week's marathon)--both on race discrimination. I already have over 80 ppts prepared! As everyone knows, there's quite a complex and sad history of race in the US. It's made me even more aware of how astonishing it is that Barack Obama was elected president. It's a lovely ending (at least in theory) to the "story" I'll be telling in this week's classes. Also this week--the second Legal Terms Quiz--this time from "Erie doctrine" to "strict liability." And the second "Movie Night" with "My Cousin Vinny" ("Itoko no Vinny"). It will be interesting to see how the humor translates. Thursday we're taking the Shinkansen to Tokyo to meet up with my friend Sondra who is coming to visit.

Another day, another three temples--and a shrine.

Seriously. I think we must average about 3 temples a day, and some days we don't sightsee at all. But here's how a typical day goes. Today we left early on our bikes because I had to pick up my Alien Registration card at a government office (thank God, I'm not in Arizona!). Afterwards, we wanted to go to Toji-Temple, which is on the far south side of Kyoto, because there's a huge market on the 21st of every month on the temple grounds. Toji is pretty spectacular in its own right--market (which was mobbed) or not. Its grounds include a five-story pagaoda (above) that is the largest pagoda in Japan. When the capital was moved from Nara to Kyoto in 794, two huge guardian temples were built on the east and west side of the southernmost gateway to the city. Toji is the east guardian temple. It retains its original architecture and layout and is a treasure house of Buddhist art. It also continues as an important Buddhist seminary and we saw many orange-clad monks, some of whom were standing at the entrance collecting alms, others were burning prayer sticks that you can purchase and write a prayer on. Then you leave it in a box and the monk burns it on the fire in front of him while he chants. Despite the market crowd, Toji was also filled with praying people, many praying in front of some of these spectacular statues of Buddha.

The grounds at Toji-in are lovely; here are two women picnicking by a small lake near the pagoda. One small lake was filled with turtles--I counted 13 without even trying.

So, now it's about noon and we decided that since we were in the "neighborhood," we would go to Sanjusangen-do, a holy building in which there are 1001 statues of Kannons (that's not a typo). I wasn't allowed to take pictures (signs every 10 feet or so say that they will check cameras at the exit--they didn't), so these pictures are from a book we bought in the shop. It is truly an awe-inspiring sight--1001 about 5-foot statues of the many-armed Kannon, each with a different face. There is a common belief that you can find the face of a loved one among them.

In front of the huge array are 28 frightening-looking "guardian" statues, and in the center a huge statue of an utterly beneficent Kannon. The whole thing takes your breath away.
Here's what the individual Kannon looks like close up.

Breathless and hungry by now, we went in search of lunch. We were wending our way north toward home on some back streets--we weren't exactly lost, I knew vaguely where we were--and, as is typical in Kyoto, you pass temple after shrine after temple. One shrine caught my eye and I stuck my head in the grounds. The whole shrine seemed to be dedicated to this pig-fish-whatever creature. Its statue was everywhere.

All the signs were in Japanese; this shrine was not meant for gaijin (people from somewhere not Japan) like us. So I have no idea what it was all about. Research anyone? I can't even look up the shrine because, remember, I only knew "vaguely" where we were.

Now we really mean it--lunch (it's about 3 pm). We were riding along another nondescript little street and saw a temple entrance that seemed to be attracting some people. We parked our bikes and went in. It turns out we were in Kennin-ji, the oldest Zen temple in Kyoto, filled with wonders. Going through a temple gate is sometimes like going through the back of the wardrobe into Narnia. Here's a little of what we saw--a Zen rock garden in the middle of the major temple building, along with a moss garden. An amazing painted dragon ceiling, a sweet little tea house, some major paintings on screens, and much more. All through that nondescript gate on that nondescript back street.

About an hour later (4 pm and still no lunch), we jumped on our bikes and, like heat-seeking missiles, went directly to our favorite noodle shop for what now had become an early dinner.
Bill here: we're talking about three or maybe four hours on our bikes; but as Terry says who knows what's around the next corner. If not a temple, maybe food. The 1001 statues was startling. Think about it: who has the power to arrange for the construction of these statues? And what is the belief system that would motivate him to do it? Imagine that you're a craftsman putting the lacquer on the statues before the gold leaf. What do you say to yourself? Good idea, O wise leader. We can use all these extra soldiers! Or, what a bloomin' idiot, but the work's steady. You stand there in that room and look at all those statues and it simply defies any kind of sensible explanation. Quelle day!

Trip to the "Japanese Alps"

This past weekend we took a trip (an exursion) to Takayama, a small town in the "Japanese Alps," about a 4 hour train ride from Kyoto, in central Honshu that has the largest mountains, aside from Mt. Fuji, in all of Japan. Nagano, the site of the 1998 Winter Olympics, is in these mountains. The trip was beautiful toward the end, as the train wound its way along the Hida River into the mountains. The Hida is white water much of the time and we passed at least 2 large dams that seem to be a huge supply of electricity for this part of Japan. Takayama, surrounded by 10,000 foot mountains, has retained a specific culture
because of centuries of isolation. The rich supply of timber created a tradition of carpentry and woodworking that is centuries old.

Takayama, like so much of Japan, is a zoning board's worst nightmare--a beautifully preserved downtown area of centuries-old one- and two-story homes made of dark wood. All this surrounded by ugly urban development that results in a jumble of ancient and beautiful with blight (not unlike Kyoto). You have to begin to erase the blight parts in order to enjoy Japanese towns and cities.

In the old section, several of the old homes house small sake distilleries and for a few yen you can sample the wares. In one of the places we sampled, the tradition was to drink from a small wooden box that was served with salt that you licked from your hand (a la tequila) after a swallow. Here it is being demonstrated; because the box is filled to overflowing (a sake custom), you have to bend down and slurp from the side.We were quite good at it, having practiced slurping noodles for several weeks now. Many of the other houses were made into small shops--very nice ones, with some beautiful carved wood, lacquered wood bowls and trays, and other local crafts.

We stayed in a minshuku, which is a small version of the traditional Japanese inn, a ryokan. Our room had tatami mats and a single low table with three chairs for sitting on the floor. That's all. In the evening the staff came in and laid out futons and bedding. The room had a sink and toilet, but for bathing, you don a yukada (cotton robe) supplied with the room and use the common hot baths. It's perfectly acceptable to hang out in the yukada and even to go to dinner in it. Which gets me to the Takayama cuisine.

Because of its isolation, Takayama developed a specific local cuisine that uses mountain vegetables (ferns and the like), many of them pickled (there's even a pickling festival in the fall), local river fish and Hida beef. The beef is often served shabu-shabu style. At our first lunch in Takayama, Bill, who ordered beef, was served at a large pot on a burner at the table. The waiter threw in a bunch of vegetables and then brought Bill a plate of thinly sliced raw beef. English was minimal but we figured out that he was to put it into the pot and cook it. So he did. I ordered a "lunch set" of local vegetables, which came with this little fish. For once I did not embrace all things Japanese--I just couldn't bring myself to eat the head, tail, and all! Dinner was at the minshuku, seated on the floor in a large dining room. We were served many, many small dishes, from sashimi to tempura, with more pickles and shabu-shabu, some of which we had no idea what it was. Most of it was quite delicious and probably better not to know too many details.

The best sightseeing of Takayma was a short bus ride to Hida No Sato, a folk village made up of houses of the region that were moved to this one site to preserve the culture. It's big--we went in about 10 different houses. This one picture of an attic shows the unusual construction--no nails, just rope to hold it all together. In some of the houses, people who actually live there were doing traditional crafts--here weaving--in another place making the shingles for many the roofs that have to be changed every 3 years. Some of the houses had the gassho-zukuri roofs (picture), the steeply slanted roofs because of the heavy snow that are said to resemble "praying hands." The grounds also included several rice paddies and a pond.

Bill here: the room at our minshuku was across the street from a temple. At 6AM a monk struck a very large bell and then proceeded to pound away on some loud drum in some apparently significant religious rhythm. A good start to the day?!

So overall--an interesting experience and a fascinating look at old Japan. We were happy, though, to return "home"--our sweet little apartment in Kyoto. Busy, busy week coming up. In Tuesday's class, I finish up the "basics" with a class on Torts; then Wednesday, I'm doing a class on constitutional law and the right to privacy; the students are reading Griswold, Roe, and Lawrence. "Privacy," says one of my slides, "is everywhere and nowhere." I realized that I have to take on levels of scrutiny (or "Tears of Scrutiny" as I like to think about it) for it all to make sense. By the way, movie night last week went great with "Runaway Jury." I started the movie after class, which is 7:45. It's not mandatory but everyone stayed. As preposterous as the plot is, it's filled with "peremptory challenges" and the like so it was fun for the students to see the abstract in action. I think the next movie will be "My Cousin Vinny." Also this week I'm invited to a dinner to meet other women faculty from the University (Tuesday night), Thursday I'm teaching a class on Civil Procedure to an undergraduate law class and having lunch with the professor, and Friday one of my colleagues from the law school (Yoshi Yamada) is taking me and Bill to tour the Imperial Palace and out to lunch.

The bell at Myoshin-ji is tolling--must be time to say Sayonara. Have a great week!