The Turbo Temple Tour

Wednesday was my last full day in Japan and I planned to make it a really full one. I had an early breakfast and headed for the subway armed with my day pass, a walking tour map and a bus map. The Kyoto subway system is nowhere near as comprehensive or complex as Tokyo's. It consists of one main north-to-south line and a few branch lines radiating out into residential areas. To really get around downtown Kyoto, where most of the temples are, you need to use the bus system which is quite extensive.

My first stop was Ginkaku-ji, a beautiful little temple in the northeast corner of the city. I started out taking the subway to the Kitaoji bus terminal where I needed to catch a number 204 bus heading east. What I didn't realize was all buses entering the terminal use the same platform whatever direction they're going in. The only way to tell if one's going east or west is to check the sign on the front of the bus as it's pulling in. Of course that part of the sign is in Kanji only so I had about a 50-50 chance of getting on the right bus. Do the math.

After going a few blocks in the wrong direction, getting off, crossing the street and waiting for another 204 to come from the other direction, I was on my way at last. I was glad I'd taken a tip from our tour guide the day before and purchased a little black umbrella. It really makes a difference, especially when you're standing in the hot sun waiting for a bus to come.

Getting off at the right stop is made easier by the fact that all stops near famous temples are repeated in English. All you really need do is listen for the English announcements and ignore the rest. The buses rarely take you right to the temples. Usually you have an extra one or two kilometer walk through the neighborhood surrounding the temple.

I'd come to the conclusion that Kyoto was just as grimy as Tokyo, at least from what I'd seen so far. The guidebook descriptions of tidy little streets swept clean every morning by the residents and shopkeepers just didn't seem possible in a big dirty city full of commuters. But the walk to Ginkaku-ji changed my mind. The streets were indeed very clean and there were in fact people out sweeping and washing them down. I walked along this tree lined path for quite a while before realizing the babbling stream beside it was in fact a drainage ditch. The water so clean and fresh looking you could clearly see the rocks along the bottom.

The temple itself is a wonderful place. The main building is rather small and inaccessible, but the gardens are what I'd come to see. Since this is a Zen temple there were the requisite rock gardens with their carefully raked sands intended to portray waves upon the waters of life. Beyond these however was a hillside covered in wonderful little moss gardens. A display explained there were 48 varieties of moss used in the gardens and it left me wondering at the many colors and shapes of moss I never even knew existed.

The path wound its way up the hillside, sometimes quite steeply as you can see, but at the top I was rewarded with a great view of the temple and the city beyond. On the way back down I noticed several men out in the woods carefully pruning each and every tree. Nothing in these gardens is left to grow wild and this careful attention to detail has been going on non-stop since the temple was established in 1482.

As I was leaving the temple and descending the steps, I noticed three girls at the bottom wearing high school uniforms. They each had a clipboard and appeared to be asking people questions as they left the temple. It's not unusual for Japanese school kids to be given homework and projects over their summer holiday and that's what these girls seemed to be doing.

When they saw me coming down the stairs their eyes lit up and they became excited. One of the girls began searching madly through the papers on her clipboard while the other two whispered to one another. By the time I reached the bottom they were all ready and approached me as a group.

"Would you answer some questions for us, please?" One of them asked in well practiced English. "Certainly," I said, "what would you like to know?" They looked at each other like they'd just scored the winning goal, but then frowned. I guess they hadn't practiced any more English than that. The one with the clipboard finally held it out to me and asked, "Could you write answer, please?"

"I'd love to!" I took the clipboard and they all bowed. the first question was, "Where do you live?" In big, easy to read letters I wrote, "Annapolis, Maryland, USA." That earned some wide eyed stares and approving nods from the girls. The second question was, "What is your primary method of transportation (train or bus)?" Now they might have wanted to know how I got to the temple that morning, but I thought it would be more fun to answer it literally. I wrote down, "Personal automobile."

This seemed to take the girls by surprise and they furrowed their brows. I guessed these words were not on their lesson plan, but I'd written them clearly enough that they would have no problem looking them up in a dictionary. Even so I decided to add a bit more, so I wrote down,"(Toyota Prius)." This earned me gasps from all three of the girls. I just smiled and continued on to the last question, "What are you planning to do for the rest of today?" I made it simple for them, "Visit more temples in Kyoto."

I handed back the clipboard and they thanked me several times over in English. Just this once I didn't try to speak Japanese and let them think they'd hit the mother load with an average American tourist. I hope they get a great grade on whatever sort of project they were doing. I didn't see any other foreign tourists around Ginkaku-ji that morning, so I suppose I really was something special for them.

Next it was back on the 204 heading across town to the Ryoan-ji temple complex. This is the headquarters for most of the Zen sects in Japan. It's a large collection of temples, schools and monk's residences. Most of it is closed to the pubic, but you can walk around and look. From the amount of foot traffic going by I'd say most people in the northwest corner of Kyoto just consider it part of their daily commute.

The first temple I found open was the Ryogen-in, which remarkably allowed photography in the building and gardens. This was a nice little temple and very representative of Zen temple throughout Japan. It has five gardens in all, including one that's done with moss rather then sand. The main statue of Buddha here was sculpted in 1250 and the temple dates from 1502, making it one of the oldest in Kyoto. I didn't get to see the Buddha, as it is only open to the public at certain times of the year.

I did get to see a beautiful Buddha in the main temple hall, but there were signs requesting no photography there. Not that I would have wanted to snap many pictures, I was much too caught up in the moment. This is a powerful place, a place for introspection and quiet contemplation of self. I stood there for a very long time, just soaking it in.

As I wandered through the complex I happened on this collection of Jizu statues. Jizu is a Buddha said to be the guide for travelers and children. The tradition is to place a statue of Jizu here in remembrance of a miscarried or stillborn child. Some of them are ancient and some were obviously hand carved by grieving parents. Many are still lovingly attended with fresh red robes, incense and offerings of water and rice for the child who never had a chance to live. I took a few pictures here, said a few prayers and then cried for a while.

As I continued to warder around, marveling at the many buildings and a bamboo forest planted right there in the middle of Kyoto I was at a loss for what to do next. I felt there was something else to see here, but everywhere I turned were signs, in English, saying "No sightseeing!" I was about to give up when a blue dragonfly zoomed up in front of me. If you know me you know I have a special relationship with dragonflies. Whenever I'm about to take a wrong step or don't know where to go, one will usually appear to show me the right path.

This little guy hovered there expectantly until I finally said, "Okay, where should I go?" He promptly zoomed off down the path and then turned to the left, disappearing down a side street. When I got there it looked like a path leading to one of the temple's back exits, but I usually regret not following the dragonflies so I headed down the road. At the end, just before the gate, was a little sign which was only visible if you were standing right there.

"Daisen-in Temple, Zen Gardens Open." This temple is a little larger than the Ryogen-in I'd visited earlier, but more importantly this one had monks in attendance. I took off my shoes, walked in and paid the entrance fee. I was standing there reading through the pamphlet when a shaven headed, blue robed man walked up to me and asked, "Europe or American?"

"American," I replied. A big smile played across his face and in very good English he said, "Good, about time you showed up." I had no idea what he was taking abut, but he proceeded to give me a full tour of the place. I couldn't figure out why he was doing this for me and ignoring all the Japanese tourists milling about. But later after he'd showed me around and wished me well, another monk appeared and gathered all the other tourists together in the main garden and proceeded to give them the same tour the other monk had given me, only in Japanese this time.

I tried to find the first monk again, but he'd vanished. I have no idea if it was fate that put the only English speaking monk in the place there at the same time I was or if maybe the dragonflies led him there too, but I'm thankful nonetheless. He made this a wonderful and educational stop. I left the Ryoan-ji temple complex a little mystified, but very happy.

To be continued...