‘No credit cards’ a sales woman told me at the ticket counter. I just landed in Tokyo international airport and was looking for ways to get to where I was staying that evening. I was just about to buy a train ticket to Asakusa when my Visa got turned down. This is an experience you’d have a lot in Japan – just cash, please. My phone was showing no signal; “Chinese sim card” I thought, let’s change back into Vodafone, but same situation… They do not sell sim cards separately, only with phones, but you can rent them, moderate daily fee applies. Things are different here… I guess I will go without phone.
It was raining when I walked around Asakusa that evening. I was looking for place to stay for a bit with my laptop and hopefully wi-fi before I have some food somewhere else. I got an umbrella in a supermarket – see-through, very practical and cool looking (for me at least, everyone has the same here, so it is probably just a part of a scenery for the rest). “Starbucks! I’ll go there”. Got a coffee and opened my laptop… No wi-fi, no charging electrical outlets (they use US outlets anyway). Someone pointed to a restaurant – “good dinner”, so I went there. That night I comfortably slept in the capsule hotel.
A few days later I took my umbrella for a walk, it was raining since morning, felt quite cold and I was not sure I want to leave the cozy warmth of the place I stayed at ( I was Couch Surfing after capsule hotel and was staying close to Shinjuku area). “I have to go”- I thought, as I brought a tripod all the way from Shanghai here (initially from Reykjavik); “I have to use it, at least once”. The idea was to shoot at the Shibuya cross; it could be nice when it rains with all those people carrying cool umbrellas. So I went, taking mine with me. Regardless of the rain there were plenty of people making their way through the white lines and through the crowd. Starbucks just next to it; or above it even – perfect! I went in, got some coffee and found the best spot ever. The seat was next to the window, overlooking the cross and next to it there was a space for my friend tripod, behind the column - it would not disturb anyone. I spent some time carefully setting the timer and was just about to start shooting when a light tap on the shoulder distracted me. Polite smile and “No photos here” came from a waitress. “Why not? I am not taking pictures of Starbucks – I care about the cross!!!” She lead me to the sign that said “No pictures or videos allowed”. That was not an explanation for me. I dragged my tripod all the way from Iceland to take these pictures after all. I did not even want their coffee… Well, I had to look for another place; I undid the setup, took my umbrella and walked out into the rain…
It kept raining through the late afternoon, through my visit to Rappongi Hills (they had Tokyo Film Festival at a time), through my failed plans to have a nice dinner in a company of a couple that travelled around the world… Something happened then, - I blame the rain. I found myself crying in the middle of a restaurant in front of people I just met. Without any particular reason, but with all the reasons at the same time… Misunderstanding, culture differences, being alone with no real friends to give a hand in a crisis, no working phone to call someone and complain (about what?) and a credit card not working at ATM when only cash is accepted in the restaurant we went to and I just ran out of cash... What should I do? No real offer came my way, so I left feeling embarrassed and not believing that this is happening for real. What if ATMs don’t accept Icelandic cards? I was told I have to have some special sign on my VISA so it works in Japan, I was told my VISA is not international enough J; I was told I don’t have money (well, I don’t in fact, but I have yet to reach my VISA limit and that could pay one dinner). I felt like I was put on a spot and needed to prove financial stability. I felt like the whole Japanese world including ATMs, “No picture” sign, rain and even newly made friends just turned against me. Hiding my red eyes under transparent umbrella I made my way through streets in Shinjuku, in the skyscraper area where Scarlett Johanssen did not feel that good either in the ‘Lost in Translation’ movie. I walked home, on the way got into 7/11 and tried my card at the ATM there, I needed to get some dinner after all… It worked perfectly fine, unlike that place that I was taken to half an hour before. All the tears for nothing… I left for Kyoto the next morning, leaving my umbrella behind.
I forgot about this incident pretty fast and was enjoying myself on the streets of Kyoto. The city was easier to understand and I made a smart move stopping by Tourist Information desk and getting tons of maps and advices of what to see. I also booked tickets for a Geisha dance show and got the bus passes for the next three days (lost one right away). It was warm (er) and life felt good again. Temples, shrines, small covered market streets, bicycles, holding hands couples, canals, geishas, plastic food carefully arranged in the window instead of the menu, helpful people, people that spoke English… Kyoto. I loved it there. I was Couch Surfing again and stayed in an old Japanese style house with many rooms and sliding doors, rice paper letting in the sunlight in the morning and futon on the floor, talks into the night with people I just met, sharing food, tea, inhaling the smoke when they smoked indoors, playing with two cats that hated each other, one kept appearing in my room (I did not figure out how) in the middle of the night and crawling under my blanket; staying up until 5 am for the music performance my host gave and making it back home on a bike after plum wine (loved it) and rice wine (terrible taste) – all good memories. Even the rain that came one of the days felt friendlier, warmer here. And that’s when I got my second umbrella. It was same transparent with black spine, but felt nicer with a better handle. “I will take it back to Iceland”, I thought even though I did not know what to do with it there. Well, that did not happened as I left it on a train the next morning… I loved it for one day. I was passing Osaka on the way to Koya-san - a mountain with headquarters of Japanese Buddhism (Shingon branch). It was a nice stroll from one train station (this was the train that took my umbrella away, I hope it ended up in good hands) to another (took me probably 4 hours), just enough to observe the city life, architecture, people, appreciate it’s modern looks and lack of history – it was completely bombed and rebuild after the WWII.
A rather slow train took me to Hashimoto later that day, a station from where I get on another train that goes to the foot of Koya-san. I read all the way, sometimes observing people. Quite, disciplined, tidy… A train from Hashimoto was an experience of its own. Zigzagging through the hills, surrounded by trees that felt as tall as haven. Me and just one other person in the whole wagon; dropping sun and chilling air. It got completely dark and cold when I was finally up. I still had to get on a cable car and after 5 minutes was on top of the mountain that I hoped to find some answers from. I slept in a temple that night. Dinner was plentiful and it was served in a separate room just for me. I enjoyed every bit of it, seating on the cushion right on the floor surrounded by 13 dishes (they are small J). Before retiring for the night I asked if it would be possible to have my head shaved the way the monks had it there. I also showed written in advance words that asked the same question. Not right away, but I got an ‘appointment’.
It was not hard to wake up for the morning prayer ceremony the next day as my neighbors were not hiding their excitement much. I got up, washed and dressed and waited to be picked up. It was 6:10am and the sun was still down. The breakfast followed at 7 and then I was left to myself. I used the time to read, think, write, read again and went exploring the place around 10. It was warmer outside (my 8- degrees-Celsius room took me back a few times to Iceland where you can have it as warm as you want whenever you want; heat was luxury here and only your feet were warm if you placed them under the table that had heating system working on electricity). There is a famous cemetery that is an eternal home to many outstanding Buddhist monks; it is huge and really beautiful. As it is placed in a forest, with autumn colors starting to show it did not feel all that gloomy at all and I enjoyed observing the sculptures, Buddhas, shrines. It took well over two hours to complete this walk. I was ready for some hot tea.
Back in the temple, reading and writing again with my feet under the table, refilling one cup after another I contemplated the life these monks lead, simple, helpful, with dignity. Later I walked to the town center, through the shops and other temples that also offered lodging, through tourists and locals, through crazy for this tiny place traffic. After visiting the Shingon school headquarters ( a huge temple with the biggest stone garden in Japan and maybe in the world) I stopped by very inviting café. It looked nice inside and the food was so beautifully arranged on my plate (two small pieces of cake with drops of cherry jam and rose petals) that it felt ok to be charged twice as much as usual. The host was talkative and shared the story of her life, business and ended up showing me her kimonos. It was a nice addition to my silent, otherwise, day. I was just in time for dinner and my hair was cut shortly afterward in the same room. I still found some pieces of it on the tatami floor the next morning when having my departure breakfast. I was done here, I was going to Nara.
Nara was long to get to from Koya-san, but very romantic and pleasant place. It is full with deer that just walk the streets and the park, approach people, scare away the toddlers and beg for food with their huge silent eyes. My staying there was brief; it gets dark around 5 and it is hard to enjoy the park – that is the biggest attraction of the town and the temples – after the sunset. When arrived, I had to change into lighter clothes as it was much warmer here, but I still kept a hat on as it felt rather cold without hair. Temples, pagodas, dears, small shops - I will come here again, I promised, hopefully not alone anymore. I ate well-deserved box of something (?) was not sure what it was, but tasted good and a walk back to the station. I went back to Kyoto that night, back to the friends that did not believe my looks, back to the cats and the futon. The next day was full of trust in my unconsciousness. I let it lead me to the places that could make the best experience ever leaving the Lonely Planet behind. And it was best experience ever, as simple as that. Path of philosophy, walk along canals, municipal zoo, food in a hidden place, where I was the only customer and probably the first foreigner ever – good , hot and cheap; geisha dance and tea ceremony later, Ponto-cho on the way to the bus stop. Bye Kyoto, you were nice to visit…
I got back to my first umbrella that evening, back to Shinjuku. And Tokyo still had one day to make it up for me, for all the distress all the feeling lost and feeling small... And it did, with the sightseeing on the 45th floor in the municipal government building, with business area skyscrapers, with Shinjuku park, with a few bao-zi (I think I ate meat then) with Photography museum in Ebisu, with nice bento dinner and some shopping in Shibuya late evening. Tokyo… I loved it that day, I loved it at the end… Two days of Design Fiesta followed, days when we (me and my friendly host) had to show creativity and resourcefulness so all works out well. And it did! And I left Tokyo late afternoon right from the Big Sight exhibition center. I was not flying Business class back and I did not have neighbors I wanted to chat with, instead I finished a book by Haruki Murakami – a book about running – the only sport I enjoy, by the writer that introduced me to Japan many years ago.
I took my umbrella with me, on a bus and through the security and immigration (immigrating umbrella). It had a chance to travel with me to 3 other countries before ending up in Iceland, but it did not, as I left it hanging on the luggage cart when catching the last bus from Pudong airport in Shanghai. I hope this one ended up in good hands as well.
Posts
