A Winter's Tale: The Matysiks Visit Japan, Part 6--Kyoto Day Trip

Monday, January 2nd--a blustery, cold, rainy winter day. We set out at the crack of dawn to embark on our day trip with Hiroshi and Chieko to Kyoto. Little did we know that we would soon be transported into a world of middle-aged, food-loving Japanese people who clearly had no real interest in all the hidden wonders scattered among Japan's ancient capital.

We no sooner left the tour bus (after listening to the guide go on and on in Japanese for almost two painstaking hours) then we were rushed over to our first shrine. "You only have 30 minutes to look around and take pictures. Then be back on the bus," was the extent of what our guide murmured to us as we quickened our pace to catch a glimpse of the shrine.

Upon entering the grounds, the rain tapping persistently on the exposed tops of our umbrellas, we beheld the brightly-painted orange buildings of this particular shrine. We approached the main building, coins in hand, and repeating the ritual we had learned the previous day, we paid our respects to the god of the shrine and then had a muddy, wet look around. Everything was decked out for the New Year's holiday and with scads of people roaming around, laughing and clasping wet hands with wet hands, we became part of the festivities surrounding us.

Rushing back to the bus, we soon found ourselves creeping and winding around small cobblestone streets, towards a hotel on a hill. Moving up to the second floor, we entered a small tatami room with a banquet table full of many more traditional New Year's foods. After a hearty meal, we consulted our maps and, utilizing the two hours we had to walk around the old streets, we began the best part of our day.

Walking down the sloping streets of the Higashiyama area, we saw the head of a giant deity rising above the barren trees. Climbing steep stone steps, we made it to the shrine dedicated to an unknown soldier. Paying the small entrance fee, and, with incense in hand, we approached the large statue. Her peaceful gaze and stance cast a tranquil atmosphere over the grounds. It was so quiet and peaceful, with rain drops dancing on the surface of the small pool in the center of the complex--I felt completely at ease in this moment in time.

Placing our incense sticks into the burner and looking around the grounds, we were soon on our way down the hill once again, stopping to take pictures of the little shops and shrines along the way. We happened upon not only shrines and temples, but little stands selling typical festival foods. So, in the midst of all this ancient history, Matt stopped and had a tasty snack of takoyaki (fried octopus in breading).

As our next departure time was quickly approaching, we began our ascent of the steep roads and soon, after a few stops, made it back to the tour bus. Stopping inside the hotel for a quick bathroom break, we did a little window shopping in the gift shop and then were on our way again. The bus, after meandering through Kyoto's narrow streets, stopped across from an ancient, magnificent looking temple complex. Anxiously awaiting to go and see what was inside, I quickly got off the bus--only to find that we were all being herded into a radish shop, for wine and radish tasting. So, as we ate the sour veggies and drank the too-sweet wine, we looked out of the glass windows towards the historical buildings on the other side of the street. Then, after our 10 minute stop, we entered the bus again and drove away. I never did get to see what was inside the complex--maybe I never will.

We drove on for what seemed like hours and finally stopped at a parking lot. We boarded another bus bound for another shrine. This shrine, apparently, was extremely popular, and so, following the crowds towards what we could only assume was the gate to the shrine, we soon found ourselves scrunched in a mob of "pilgrims." It was almost surreal how many people were headed in the same direction, and we couldn't help but step on a few peoples' feet as we snaked through the winding streets to the mouth of the shrine.

The shrine itself was nothing particularly special to look at, but the mere fact that so many people found it necessary to make the trip to its very gates was moving. As I was shoved to and fro from all the people moving towards the shrine entrance, I almost felt a sense of calm--like the eye of a storm. Taking it all in (as quickly as I could since we had yet another deadline to return to the bus), we then turned on our heels and headed back, through the crowds of people, back to the tour bus and, very soon enough, were on our way back to Kobe and to our warm beds.

A Winter's Tale: The Matysiks Visit Japan, Part 5--New Year's Day

Happy 2007! Our new year began by walking around the grounds of the very famous and exquisite Himeji-jo. One of the oldest and completely original castles of Japan, Himeji-jo stands regally above the town below. Nestled high on an unmovable bed of boulders, the castle's main keep is nothing less than breathtaking. The pitched roof, the small slitted windows, the blinding white paint--all situate Himeji-jo in a dark, war-plagued, samurai-ridden past. Though, walking through the grounds, I felt distinctly at ease, as though the castle itself has a welcoming and safe presence. We entered one of the buildings on the grounds, stepping into wooden rooms where women were housed and, slinking along the smooth floorboards, we felt transported to another era. Outside, beyond the thick mud walls, a group of men were playing on Japanese flutes and the beautiful, simple music floated into the sunlit rooms. The castle grounds, while strewn with many visitors, were so serene and it was so relaxing just to be ambling among the trees and gardens.

Eventually, we found the exact place where, six years ago, Matt had taken a stunning picture of the castle and, having found the same spot, we snapped another photo with all of us in front of the castle. Then, having only a few minutes left to peruse the grounds, we made it up to the main keep, where tiny doors led into secret holdings and stone steps were worn down from years of use and exposure. Paying our respects to this historical site, we said goodbye and began our walk towards Himeji station. There, we boarded another shinkansen (bullet train) and, in less than 30 minutes, found ourselves in Kobe.

Waiting in the Shin-Kobe station, our respective head colds really started to get the best of us. I remember sitting there, thinking how I could try to make my runny nose, sore throat, and persistent headache go away (or seem less disabling than it really was) before the Oues came to pick us up. But no sooner had I began to think about this, then I heard Greg say that Hiroshi was here! So, mustering up the little strength we had in our exhausted and ill-stricken bodies, we went to greet Hiroshi and Akinori (the first time for Greg, Michelle and Allison; the second for me). Walking out of the station, I asked Hiroshi, "Hiroshi-san, o genki desu ka?" And right away, he laughed in his cute little chuckle and told me that my Japanese had greatly improved since the last time I was here. I smiled, shook my hand in front of my face (an indication of saying "no" in Japan) and told him that it was still very poor. So, after introductions and a few words, Matt and Allison hopped into the car with Akinori and I accompanied Greg and Michelle in Hiroshi's car. We talked about our trip and all that we had seen and eaten since Christmas Eve. It was a relaxing car ride back to Suma, the part of Kobe where the Oues reside.

Twisting, turning and creeping up the steep hills of the neighborhood, I started to remember certain landmarks from when I was visiting back in October. We pulled up to the beautiful white house with the Oue's kanji written on a plaque by their mail box. We exited the car and entered the beautiful foyer. Chieko came out to greet us, a huge smile on her face which I distinctly remembered from our first meeting. Masahito was sitting in the kitchen and when we entered for lunch, we found the table covered with decorative bento boxes full of delicious New Year foods. Chieko and Seiko had made all the food the day earlier--and it was quite a feast! We had mochi, fish, vegetables, beans, and beer. Lunch lasted a good hour or so. When it was over, we went into the living room, where we all looked at pictures around the coffee table and Chieko served us tea and coffee. I felt right at home again with this wonderful family and felt so happy that Greg, Michelle and Allison were finally able to meet them after all these years.

After a few minutes, we all piled into the cars and headed down to a small shrine to pay our respects to the New Year. There were people lining the roads and small stands set up to sell takoyaki, anko fish, and other little sweets. We climbed the stone steps up to the shrine and then, getting our our 5 yen pieces, we approached the opening, where hoards of other people were tossing coins into the bin, then clapping twice, bowing, then clapping once again. So, following suit, we tossed our coins, clapped and bowed. Then, we took a look around the shrine. We saw people tying their bad fortunes onto pine trees around the shrine. Then, walking down the steps again, we headed back to the cars, but since there were so many of us, we had to take two trips, so Matt and I waited at the 7/11 for Chieko to come get us. While we waited we ate a kit-kat bar and commented on how many unwelcoming stares we had received on our way to and from the shrine. It was a really interesting experience. We are used to being stared at most places we go, but this was definitely a different kind of stare--it was very unfriendly and almost hateful. We were both really surprised.

Once Chieko picked us up and we returned to the home, we just relaxed in the living room, watching New Years programs on Hiroshi's huge TV. Then, as dusk fell and the sky turned a midnight blue color, we took a drive down to Rainbow Bridge, where we took some pictures and admired the view of the bay at night. Then, upon returning back to the house, we had another amazing meal (Chieko is a magnificent cook) and soon, feeling the effects of the long day and the extensive traveling we had been doing for the past week, we took our baths and got ready for bed. Greg and Michelle would be staying with the Oues, but Matt, Allison and I were to be guests at the neighbor's house. She was a kind, old widow who had a whole huge house to herself. At first, before I met her, I was a little reluctant to stay at her house, but once we entered and saw this spry, spunky (and extremely genki) old lady, we immediately felt right at home. She nestled us under her kotatsu in front of her TV, and we looked at some of her pictures from a trip she and Seiko took to Thailand only a few months ago. Then, feeling fatigued, we shuffled into the tatami room and, climbing under the bedding, soon fell into a deep and much-needed sleep. And so ended our first day of the new year--a wonderful day full of history, food, and reuniting with friends.

A Winter's Tale: The Matysiks Visit Japan, Part 4--Miyajima and New Year's Eve

On Sunday, December 31st, we took a day trip to a small island in the inland sea. Here is our day's excursion to beautiful Miyajima and the night that was to follow in Himeji, Japan.

Up early on Sunday morning, we boarded a train bound for Miyajima. Greg and Michelle were in playful spirits.


Approaching Miyajima from our ferry boat. What a spectacular day!

Matt feeding some greedy but docile deer--look at the one grabbing a hold of his pants! So mischievous!

As the tide goes out, Miyajima's famous floating torii's mystery is exposed.

Greg and Michelle gazing at the torii.
The temple and pagoda looming high into the crystal blue sky.
Inside the temple; preparing for the New Year celebration.
Muddy temple grounds and the sea bottom exposed as the tide rushes out to sea.


Matt about to receive a sloppy deer kiss.

The inland sea from the top of Miyajima's highest mountain.
The tide slowly comes back in. Our time in Miyajima has come to a close. Now on to...


Himeji-jo--the most beautiful and majestic castle in Japan. We spent New Year's Eve admiring the castle (illuminated in the blackness of night) and eating dinner at a local izakaiya (Japanese bar).

Our delicious New Year's Eve dinner, complete with Nihon-shu, soba, yakiniku, and other tasty dishes!


Our luxurious accommodations for the evening. Soon after our magnificent dinner, we settled down for a sound New Year's Eve sleep.

A Winter's Tale: The Matysiks Visit Japan, Part 3--Hiroshima

Saturday, December 30th, 2006: After an extremely uncomfortable night on a coach bus (carrying us from Tokyo to the Kansai region), we finally stepped foot into Hiroshima around 8:30am. Overtired and with swollen feet, we hobbled into the cold morning air and tried to determine the way to our hotel. Outside of the bus terminal, we saw a city of modern buildings and streetcars--all the hustle and bustle of a major urban area. And once I saw this, even before we made it anywhere near the Peace Park, I felt emotions welling up inside me, knowing that the morning the bomb was dropped, the city must have looked somewhat similar to this day. So, suppressing the lump in my throat, I followed everyone into an elevator (which took us below the city streets into a passageway leading to the other side of the street). Once there, we crossed traffic and stood, waiting at the streetcar platform. Soon, out of the stream of cars flooding past us, a space-age looking tram approached our terminal. We boarded the car and rode it to Hiroshima-eki. Once there, we disembarked, walked a few blocks, and finally found our little ryokan (Japanese-style) hotel. Collapsing in the small dining area, finally rid of the weight of our heavy bags and coats, we enjoyed some hot tea and snacks (provided by the nice hotel ladies). Having rested for an hour or so, we decided to try to find our way to the Genbaku Dome (Atomic Dome), and so, heading back to the tram stop, we hopped on another street car and were on our way to the Peace Park.

The dome was in sight as we stepped out of the street car and into the bright winter day. Crossing the road and entering the park, the ominous, frightenly-ghostly shell of a building loomed before us--exposed to the elements, hiding nothing from the eye. We quietly circled the building, our once-smiling faces dropping into serene, contemplative forms. The feelings this building evokes from one gazing upon it are, in reality, indescribable. Reading that this building, once a teeming, cultural center, full of life and beauty, was only 500 meters from the epicenter of the bomb and that the people inside were immediately engulfed in fiery flames made my heart drop to my stomach. Yet, I couldn't stop looking--I felt like I had to look, I had to feel nauseous, I had to etch this imagine into my mind forever. Seeing the sun's rays caress the barren structure, while ravens took perch amongst the debris and exposed metal beams, I felt a distinct, fleeting sense of hatred for humankind--for the suffering and atrocities we bring upon one another. At the same time, though, this dome--this phantom building--is truly an ever-lasting reminder of what we cannot repeat again. And while crossing the bridge to walk through the rest of the park, I looked back on the building with a morbid sense of beauty and hope. It is difficult to describe, so I must leave it at that.

The rest of the park was tastefully laid out--with memorials scattered throughout the grounds--and we all were so happy to be walking amongst the many trees and gardens, taking in this place and its history. Once a hip, happening part of Hiroshima, it is now a memorial, forever preserving what happened sixty-two years ago. Where buildings used to stand and people used to shop and eat their meals, there is now a peace bell, an internal flame of peace, a war-museum, a children's monument (where thousands of paper cranes line glass cases, remind us of the after-effects of war on those too small to remember it), and even a monument for all the Koreans who were killed by the blast as well. The museum was, unfortunately, closed on the 30th (for the New Year's holiday) but it didn't really matter. The power of the park and memorials spoke to us in their own way. Pictures were unnecessary to helping us imagine what it must have been like.


After walking around the park for an hour or so, we decided to cross the bridge (which had been the target for the bombers) and meander through city, on our way to Hiroshima-jo (a newly-rebuilt castle--the original, of course, was destroyed in 1945). The castle was slightly unimpressive, so, deciding that we needed a break from the cold and walking, we made our way over to another part of the city (first stopping at a bookstore and a shopping center to look around). We found a nice little restaurant with veggie sandwiches--a first for Matt and me in Japan. After a nice, filling "western-style" meal, we went back to the hotel, where we showered, rested, drank tea and took it easy for a few hours (I seem to remember that we watched a TV program where these two men were visiting various spas around Japan and enjoying onsens too--but I could be wrong).

The sky grew dark and the lights of the city began to shine through our hotel windows. We bundled back up in our coats, scarves, hats and mittens and headed out into the night. Back at the dome (we wanted to take pictures of it lit up at night), all the feelings we felt earlier in the day returned to us. Against the black sky, the dome glowed like a lantern, both guiding and warning people of a past drenched with fear, anger, sadness and healing. Unlike the park--the hallowed ground--the streets surrounding the calm and stately memorials were alive and healthy and we soon perked up in the presence of so many young, vivacious people. We had a great dinner of Hiroshima okonomiyaki (very different from the kind found in Yamanashi) and then we stumbled upon a Jazz bar. We enjoyed various drinks and good jazz music and had a very relaxing end to our emotional day. Leaving the bar, Allison and I startled a Japanese man with our "gaijin" faces and had a good laugh about it. Tired and cold, we happily found a warm seat on the street car and, entering our hotel room once again, we contently crawled into our respective futons, reflecting on the day and all that it meant to us as Americans.