marching band on the streets of Kyoto
a marching band from a local university, on a Tuesday night in Kyoto.
a marching band from a local university, on a Tuesday night in Kyoto.
At the grave of haiku master Matsuo Basho, in Otsu, near Lake Biwa.
On the Shinkansen to Nagoya.
The brain - and this is not at all an original observation - is a strange thing.
So here I am on this blazing fast train, Osaka to Kyoto in fifteen minutes (really - left Shin-Osaka 14;23, now stopped in Kyoto 14:38). Am I worried about a fiery crash? No, I was worried that, even with English available on the ticket machines, I wouldn't be able to figure out how to buy a ticket. (Shinkansen tickets are this weird two-part deal, one for the distance, one for the means by which you travel it.) But I puzzled it out. Hurray for me.
Stayed out late last night for Liz's sayonara party. She had to change her performance plan: renting a projector would have been prohibitively expensive, sort of defeating the whole chairtable purpose of the gig. So she decided to auction off a "lap dance". Well, seeing as it's all for a good cause, when the first few bids were low, I decided to it bump up a bit. Somehow David and I ended up tying with winning bids, and a round of rock-paper-scissors came out in a tie (two scissors), so we both chipped in 5000 Yen (about $40) and got to be participants in the show. (It was a PG-13, experimental improv "lap dance", not really the sort of thing you see at the "gentleman's club", more of a hoot than a turn-on. Fun.)
Wednesday, by the way, was promotion night at the Kansai dojo. Four people testing for ikkyu and nikyu. I was the only yudansha for the kumite; interesting to think how I'll be a memory here. "Hey, remember my advanced brown belt promotion, when that wacky American sensei was here?" As senior guy present I got to tie belts on people - back home that honor always goes to Kyoshi Kate, of course.
So, I'm going to be ending my stay here with two days at a Zen Center! Last Saturday I met (re-met, actually) David's housemate Amelia, who had spend a few days at the Tekishin center a bit outside Kyoto, and really recommended it. I contacted them, and I'm going to stay for two nights, the 28th and 29th. From what I understand it's pretty much working and living monk-style, with lots of zazen, working around the temple, and formal ritual meals. I don't think it'll be cushy but it should be educational.
in the garden of
Basho's ancestral home -
a buttefly
Today, out to Iga Ueno. Kind of out in the sticks, you have to ride the Kansai/Yamatoji line way out past Nara to the Yamatoji line's end at Kamo, the pick up a tiny backcountry train to Iga Ueno. Then I switched to a Kintetsu train to go downtown.
To paraphrase Lou Gosset Jr.'s drill sergeant from An Officer and a Gentleman: "Only two things come out of Iga Ueno, boy: ninjas and haiku masters. And I don't see no sword on your back."
This is the home town, the birthplace, of Basho. And it's also known for it's ninjas, apparently they were allies of Ieyasu Tokagawa. Guess which one the lady at the tourist office assumed I was here to see? But she seemed pleasantly surprised when I inquired after the Basho museum instead of the Ninja one.
The museum is not much to see if you can't read Japanese, but I could enjoy some paintings on the scrolls, and it's closest to the station.
But Basho's birthplace and childhood home, preserved or restored, is something to see. The lady who worked there was so nice; only a bit of English but tried to explain as much to me as possbile. Took my photo outside the place for me. Looking into the courtyard garden - bam! butterfly, so the above haiku.
She gave me an English map of the local Basho sites. At her suggestion I visited the nearby Shinto shrine to which he dedicated his first collection of poems. The shrine is not a spectacular sight, but interesting that a fellow so associated with Zen would make such a gesture.
Famed televangelist and founder of the "Moral Majority" Jerry Falwell is dead.
I must admit, there is part of me that wants to cheer that he's gone, will no longer be able to spread hate and intolerance and his twisted notion of Christianity. But really, it's so sad: a life wasted on fear and small-minded bigotry.
Some say hell is reserved for those who believe in it; if so, I hope Jizo Bodhisattva will soon help the poor guy out of it.
From the fine web comic XKCD. What will they think of us in a few hundred years? Maybe I should go put on a cape.
Basho walked
this road, I realize
and slow at the thought
tokaido road
monk on a motorbike
i love the universe
The gravesite of Basho, a small temple in Otsu. Next door a kindergarten, Japanese kids singing "happy birthday".
Turtles and some sort of ferret/cat keep him company.
At the grave of Basho
bees buzz in the flowers -
So last night I go out to an art gallery where Liz is performing at an exhibition opening. Ended out going for dinner and karaoke with Dave and his girlfriend and an Nihonjin friend of theirs, quite nice. Around 11 they had to head back, I decided to stay out late, go down to Shisaibashi (thus the song fragment that came to me last night).
Ended up at Cinquecento again, where I ran into this Japanese guy I've seen around a few times. Older guy, maybe late 40s, good English, I've chatted with him and he's bought me drinks. First time I met him I thought he might be gay and trying to pick me up, but then he said someting about getting home to his wife, so I figured I was safe.