Saturday, October 9, 1999

We set out early this morning to go to Kyoto and Nara, with a vague idea of where we will stay.  It took a little longer to get there, but that was okay since Ken was driving, and I read The Tao of Pooh aloud to us.  There are many funny parts in this book and I think I will have to get it for my personal collection after this.  We finally made it to Kyoto.  My heart was racing just to think that I was now in one of the oldest cities in the world.  It is amazing to think that Kyoto was the capital of Japan for 1200 years.  1200 years.  I asked Jessica if that made her feel young.  She replied that she felt like she was still eight.  I guess when you are young, age is more significant.  You have fewer years to deal with.  It was a silly question to ask a nine-year-old.  Bless her heart, she tried to accommodate me conversationally, and found me too thick-headed.

Ken circled the block below Kyoto Tower, vulture-style, and finally pulled over and turned on the hazards.  He let me out into traffic and I waded through a sea of tourists to the TIC, the Tourist Information Center.  Here I was made to take a number and wait until one of the four specialists could help me.  I was just in time.  I took a number and they took away the number vendor.  I was officially the last appointment of the day.  I spent the next few minutes contemplating the best questions to ask in my five-minute allotment.  I wished I had remembered to bring a pencil to write down the questions in order of importance, so I started trying to abbreviate the questions and stick them in some sort of pneumonic order so I wouldn�ft forget what to ask.  By the time they called my number, I had forgotten my stupid device and also my questions, but still managed to get out with a couple of maps (some with numbers even) marked with parking, and also times and costs of the attractions.  I also got some vague directions to Joyo City, where the campground is. 

We only had to turn around once, and managed to come across the shopping center the guy from the campground mentioned.  I went inside to call, and Ken went to investigate the nearby gear shop.  There`s a shock.  Ken interested in gear.  It was a great shop, though, as I later discovered when we returned there to get some much-needed rain covers for our packs.  I figured that if we got them, it wouldn�ft rain.  I was right.  The weather was, and stayed, completely perfect and beautiful all weekend and through the Monday holiday.
The guy at the campground asked me to call back in 5 minutes and hung up, and I lost the remainder of the 100\ coin I had deposited, and I was not happy.  So I waited, and when I called again, he surprised me by saying that a guy from the campground was waiting to escort us back.  Mr. Hamano said, ``His name is Jaiko.``  This was the best information I got.  He also tried to describe him.  He said, ``He is a young man, not too tall, with black hair.``  He just described half the population of this country.  I held my breath so I wouldn�ft laugh out loud. 
I found Jaiko, or rather he found me.  I am easier to describe, I suppose.  Simple.  Mr. Hamano probably just said to look for the stupid gaijin illegally parked at the mall and lead them back if you don�ft mind.  Like I said, he found me.  So I race across the street and into the store, grab Ken and we run back to the car just in time to pull out and follow Jaiko to the camp.  Yuai-no-oka campground is called the `hill of friendship`` for good reason.  The people were very nice and accommodating, and they helped us with the rules and showed us around.  It was great, and so much cheaper than trying to stay in a hotel.  We set up camp and then set out for Nara. 

Nara is an ancient city also.  There is a lot to see here, including the oldest temple in the country.  We only had time to go to Nara-koen park.  Once we parked, we found ourselves in this wonderful area, relatively undisturbed by the progress of mankind.  We went first into a beautiful Japanese garden.  There were stones under our feet and gentle slopes around quiet pools of clear water.  There were hills full of the greenest moss and old trees welcoming us to meditate as they have to centuries upon centuries of visitors.  We walked slowly and pondered, and quietly reflected, and meditated, and mused and then wondered, and we probably thought some also, and perhaps we daydreamed, and I think we even did some other synonyms that I can`t think of right now.  I loved it.  It was the first REAL Japanese garden I have ever seen, and I will be going to many more.
After this we wandered into the main part of the park, past friendly deer who are considered to be messengers of the gods.  The park has an enormous temple gate, and the carvings inside of the guardians are HUGE.  They are the largest wooden statues that I have ever seen.  We wandered down a bit and found some shops where they were selling the crackers to feed to the deer.  We bought some and went to the field.  The deer were friendly, and there was one who was a bit aggressive, and jumped on us trying to get the food.  Ken punched it in the jaw and it calmed down.  Jessica was a little nervous, but still she held the crackers and the deer ate out of her hand.  They were wonderful.  It was a lot of fun.  It started to get dark then, so we went into town and got a bite for dinner at an Italian restaurant where we had some great pizza and the host brought us coffee for dessert, on the house!  It was very nice!  We went back to camp and started to settle down, soon we crashed, exhausted, but ready for�c

Sunday, October 10, 1999

We started out early, headed for the Okubo station, parked at McDonalds and took the train into Kyoto.  The morning was crisp, and we were dressed warmly, but layered so that we could lighten up as the day got warmer.  We headed out for the Kiyomizu Temple.  On the way, we grabbed breakfast at Lawsons, one of the many here in Kyoto.  We started to count them, but lost count between 25 and 390.  We ate quickly, en route to the Temple, and walked past the famous Yasaka Pagoda, known to be part of the traditional skyline for Kyoto.  We turned the corner and were greeted by some genki Geishas on their way to the temple also.  We got some photos with them, true to the vulgar American form, and then continued up the path.  Kiyomizu Temple looms far above the city, lending us a spectacular view of the skyline.  It is remarkable what they could do to build places like this without the use of cranes or nails or even suitable clothing for building!  I couldn�ft help but feel stirred by the ringing of the bells, the incense wafting over us, calling for our prayers!  I see Jessica place her offering, clap three times, kneel and pray.  Ken and I wonder if she knows that this call is for a different God.  It makes me wonder just who she thinks she is praying to.  Is it possible that she is indeed praying to God, just doing so in a manner that is more acceptable in our present company?  In that way, it would be as much assimilation as slurping her noodles.  Is she saying a prayer to the divinity there?  Does she know?  For me, I do both.  Most of the time, I pray for protection for my family, or for guidance.  I will thank my God for allowing me the blessing of being here on this day.  I show respect and reverence.  I do not doubt the validity of the religion of these people.  It existed long before the way of Christianity.  I find it interesting and calming.  I wish to know the significance behind the many movements.  I fear that sometimes Jessica sees it all as a game.  I see a lot of children (in my country as well) taking part in things that they do not understand.  But then I am reminded that if she is familiar with things like this, perhaps her mind will be directed toward the study of that which she does not understand.  Children in America take part in religious ceremony that they fail to understand even when adults.  As long as Jessica continues to try to assimilate, perhaps she will be learning as well, and perhaps the respect of the culture will spill into other areas of her life.  It could only work for good, even if it is a slight irritation to me or to Ken.  It is my belief that you cannot defile what you do not understand.  It sounds oversimplified, I know.  But how could a child, ignorant of the significance, be blamed for blasphemy when they have no concept of what that means?  It is ridiculous to think her kind of behavior is blasphemous when she normally tries to do everything right.  If we taught her that it was wrong to pray, then she wouldn�ft pray because she wants to do what is right, and she looks to us to see what is right.  She is learning from example, and experimenting with spirituality in the process.  I think it`s good for her, especially since I never want her to feel that spirituality is reserved only for OTHER people, i.e. people who understand the language or the history.  If you feel moved by the Spirit to prayer and it comforts you, and you have a belief system in a higher power, so be it.  If you are heard, all the better for you.  I sound more and more agnostic all the time, I know.  I guess all I am saying is that I cannot understand all the time what I am feeling, and I will pray when and where I want, and to whoever will listen, and I will do so respectfully and full of humility and reverence.  And I will not tell my daughter she shouldn�ft pray.  That oversteps the line, and is not for me to tell her.  All of a sudden I feel like I am raving, like I have to defend my position here.  I guess I don�ft, do I?  I suppose I am having the fictional argument with whatever self-righteous egocentrist might question my allowing her to pray at a Buddhist temple or a Shinto shrine.  Or for allowing myself for that matter.  Okay, back to Kyoto.  I have no idea what set me off like that.
Yeah, we were at Kiyomizu Temple, and there was the opportunity to kneel and summon the kami with a mallet to the large domed bell sitting on the ground.  It had a wonderful ring to it, shaking my whole body as I knelt there in front of it.  Jessica also rang the bell, and I lit a candle near there for Lou Schaeffer.  Lou would have loved to have seen this?it`s just like all those stories he told me about his trip to Japan so many years ago.  If he were alive, and here in Kyoto with us, he still could not get to where we are because of the chair.  Yet another reason to light a candle for him.  Maybe HIS kami will take a minute to watch over us, and then he will see how beautiful this is. 

THIS LETTER REMAINS UNFINISHED.  MEMORIES OF LOU PREVENTED MY GOING FURTHER, BUT I WILL CATCH YOU UP ON WHAT ELSE WE SAW ON THIS TRIP AT A LATER TIME.  SORRY.