The Final Push

After leaving Daisen-in, I decided to take a break from temples and go visit the Kyoto International Manga Museum. Most people think of Tokyo as being the birthplace of modern manga and anime, but the father of them both, Dr. Osamu Tezuka, started out in Kyoto. His early works 'Astro Boy' (Tetsuwan Atomu) and 'Kimba the White Lion' (Janguru Taitei) were big favorites of mine as a kid and stirred my early interest in Japan and its culture.

I caught the bus to the subway and took it to the Karasuma Oike station. The only directions I had said the museum was "a one minute walk" from the station, but I had no idea in what direction. For once I lucked out and the museum was clearly marked, in English, on the station map. I went up to the street, walked about a block and there it was in all its glory. But this is my vacation we're talking about here so of course... it was closed for the week.

I kid you not, one of the places I most wanted to visit while in Japan was closed from the very day I arrived in Kyoto until the very day I was leaving. I suspect foul play and when I discover the fiendish cartoon villain who closed the best otaku attraction in Kyoto just because I was there, my vengeance will know no bounds.

Feeling a little disappointed, I went back to Kyoto station for some lunch and dropped into the hotel for a quick consultation of my maps and guidebooks. I ended up taking a quick nap while I was there so it was after three before I got back on the temple trail. My first target was Sanjusangendo Temple, which is known for its collection of 1000 statues of Kannon. I knew the place closed at five o’clock, so I thought I had time, but I was not prepared for the mobs of people on the buses that afternoon.

I’d had a taste of Japanese commuting on Saturday in Tokyo when I’d nearly panicked in Shinjuku. The late afternoon crowds flooding through the station were close to what passes through it on an average workday. I found it impossible to move against the massive flow of commuters pouring in from all over Tokyo making connections there. Ultimately I just let myself be carried along to the first subway platform I came to and jumped on the first train just to get out of there. A few stops down the line, at a less crowded station, I was able to sit down and catch my breath long enough to figure out some other way to get to my destination.

Kyoto has more buses than trains, so it wasn’t surprising to find them just as crowded on a Wednesday afternoon. But as we drew nearer to the Sanjusangendo-mae stop the bus became more and more packed. I was standing about halfway between the rear entrance and the front exit and with my extra height I could see the solid wall of people I’d need to wade though to get out. I suddenly realized I wasn’t going to make it before we reached my stop.

In fact, it was three stops beyond the temple when I finally worked my way to the exit. I got out of there, crossed the street and waited for a bus going the other way. The next two buses were so jammed full already I couldn’t even get on them, but the third was merely full. I worked my way immediately to the front of the bus and waited for my stop. By the time I finally got there it was 16:35 and it had taken me nearly an hour and a half to reach a place I could have walled to in less than an hour.

Walking the short distance to the temple from the bus stop, I already felt exhausted and was looking forward to a nice quiet contemplative experience. Instead I found a closed gate and a sign telling me the last tickets were sold at 16:30. In Japan when something closes at a specified time it really closes. Not five minutes too soon or five minutes too late. The gates barring me from the Sanjusangendo Temple were big, ancient and sturdy. There was no guard to argue with and although I could see people moving around inside, I knew shouting at them would accomplish nothing.

I sat on a bench outside the hospital across the street and considered my options. The Kyoto National Museum was nearby, but would probably be closing soon as well. The next temple on my list was Kiyomizu and I wanted to be there at sunset. I ended up just sitting on the bench for a while doing some people watching. There was a private school somewhere nearby and kids of all ages in matching uniforms wandered by in various sized groups. I knew from experience over the past few days that they would be trickling out of the school for at least the next couple of hours. School children in Japan work every bit as hard as their overworked parents.

Eventually I went back to the bus stop and waited for a 206 going north. It was already packed when I got on, but I worked my way slowly forwards to the great amusement of a group of young people. They laughed every time I shoved my way a little bit closer to the exit. As it turned out they were getting off at the same stop as I did. I didn’t see how they worked their way out of the crowded bus so easily. There must be a trick to it, but the secret still escapes me.

Kiyomizu Temple is built on the top of a hill in the eastern part of the city near the Gion district. To reach it you walk up a thriving little shopping street filled with souvenir shops and ice cream vendors. At five in the afternoon it’s also filled with delivery trucks. Trucks in Japan are much smaller than their American counterparts, they have to be in order to negotiate these narrow streets, but the names on them are familiar. Volvo, Mercedes, and Toyota to name a few, but despite their diminutive size they are just as imposing when they’re barreling down at you. I should mention that most side streets in Kyoto don’t have sidewalks, just a rain gutter and the entrance to the next little shop to jump into.

At the top of the street were a small parking lot and the main entrance to Kiyomizu-ji. From this point you couldn’t really see much, just a lot of steps and some impressive architecture. At the top of the steps were a wide plaza and a few more buildings. I followed the crowds and found a ticket booth in front of covered walkway. At the other end of the walkway were the main Shinto shrine and a path leading further up the hill.

I couldn’t help but notice all the young couples here. Mostly in their twenties and gathered in small groups of two or three couples each. It turns out Kiyomizu is the “Lover’s Lane” of Kyoto and they come here in droves at the end of the day. It was a little distracting to hear all the giggling and Japanese slang in this otherwise calm and reflective place, but it did show me that temples and shrines are very much a part of the Japanese lifestyle.

Kiyomizu is all about spectacular views. Built on the mountain top in 1633, the main structures weren’t excavated into the hillside, but rather placed on top of massive wooden lattice works that preserved the natural contours of the mountain. This was one place where I could have really used a tour guide. I had lots of questions and not even a Japanese sign to offer any answers. For one thing I couldn’t figure out why the pagoda only had three levels, usually they have five, or why this other smaller one lay in ruins just to the south. Still, wandering up and down the mountainside was a delight.

I loved all little Buddha statues at almost every turn. Each one was well tended and usually robed. Each one also had a little paper cup in front of it with a fresh offering of water. I especially liked this little group. Notice the two off to the left guarding the drain pipe.

I decided not to brave the buses again until later in the evening, so when I left the temple I decided to walk north into the Gion district. This is one part of Kyoto where you can still find traditional geishas and their apprentices, the maikos. I guess I was either there too late to catch them on their way to work or too early, but I didn’t see any as I walked down these narrow streets. Occasionally a limo filled with businessmen would drive by on their way to an ochaya, a traditional tea house, but the beautiful performers who would serve them that night eluded me.

Around 7:30 I decided I’d had enough and headed back to the hotel. I was looking forward to a quiet evening soaking in my nice deep furo tub. I stopped at a combini at Kyoto station and bought myself some final onigiri for the flight home the next day. I’m really going to miss just being able to go to the corner store and buying my favorite lunch. I make them at home, but they’re not as good and I can’t keep the seaweed wrapping as crisp as these commercial ones, which are wrapped in special plastic that keep the seaweed separated from the rice until you open them up.

I got to the room, dropped my pack on the bed and noticed the message light flashing on the hotel phone. I started filling the tub and then retrieved the message. My bath would have to wait for a while as I discovered I had a lot of packing to do in a very short time. The message was from the tour company. My bus to the airport would be picking me up at 4:50 in the morning. I was warned not to be late.