Seated on the bullet train, speeding from Kyoto back to Tokyo, I am looking back on this week and reflecting on how much we have done, and all the places I’ve been and the things I have seen. I am absolutely exhausted. It is hard for me to believe that exactly one week ago I was standing in the gardens of the Nezu art gallery, alone in the pouring rain, facing a small Buddha statue and mentally preparing myself for the week to come.
The week started Monday morning at 8 am, with kit kats and a slim jim for breakfast, followed by a bento box on a bullet train to a sumo tournament. Two trains later, and we stepped out of the Hiroshima train station to a sunset view over the river. I remember enjoying the sunset, and taking a picture of the colorful sky. Later, I would learn that in that same river, thousands of human beings suffered and perished in the aftermath of the atomic bomb explosion. The memory of the sunset’s beauty felt more eerie then, the yellows and oranges that were spread across the sky were reminiscent of the drawings of the explosion.
On Tuesday, the Hiroshima Peace Museum was an emotional journey, with individual accounts and art depicting the horror and suffering that occurred less than 80 years ago. Later, at the Orizuru tower, gazing out over the green luscious views, it was hard to believe that such a beautiful place had seen so much pain. I almost felt guilty being there, as an American, enjoying the view. I felt deeply apologetic and grief stricken by something that I, individually had no part in. While this happened decades before I was born, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had been a part of it. It was a sickening feeling, and left a knot in my stomach. I thought that the museum did a very good job of outlining World War II from an unbiased perspective, emphasizing that no country was innocent. The final message of the exhibit was one of anti-nuclear powers, as opposed to one of blames. I really appreciated the care put into the exhibits, and the final message that was put across.
Tuesday afternoon brought us to Miyajima island, my absolute favorite place in Japan so far. Before this trip, orange was decidedly my least favorite color, but since seeing bright orange shrines against lush green trees and blue sky, I truly see it as much more beautiful than before. Feeling the wind on my face as we crossed the water on the ferry, I felt very calm. At Miyajima, we were blessed with a few hours of sun, and I put my feet in the sand for the first time since last summer. I spent a blissful hour by myself, wandering into the little residential alleys, then into the woods above the bay, until I could see everything. After dinner, we sat on the beach in the sun, eating maple leaf pastries, listening to the waves and watching the sun go down. I was warm inside and outside, and so in love with Japan. I never wanted to leave.
Wednesday was a beastly hot day, which after a beautiful cafe lunch, where Kara translated a Japanese children’s book about green beans, we spent in Himeji castle. The castle was white, breezy and simple, and smelled of rich wood. I found myself reflecting on the narratives that were presented to us. I would be interested in hearing the perspectives of the women who lived there, and if they were truly content with their roles, as much of the literature provided to us claimed.
Thursday in Kyoto brought us to four different places of worship, one after the other. It was exciting to me to see the different versions of the same religion, and where they overlapped. Standing in the zen Buddha garden in the middle of an absolute downpour, watching the colorful koi fish, I tried to imagine myself as a monk. It was very difficult to do. I think I am too attached to the material world to ever be able to give away my possessions and live the way they do. As an atheist myself, it was very hard for me to wrap my head around. I believe that there is nothing after death, so in life we should do what makes us happy, no matter what it should be. I thought the garden was beautiful, but I felt that my enjoyment was shallow, because I didn’t believe in the philosophies that guided it’s creation and maintenance.
Friday was another hot sunny day, and I rose early and made my way to Osaka. I hiked for miles in a straight line directly through the city, from the outskirts, through the financial district, to the dead center of the shopping district. I sat by the river and read for a while, relishing being alone for the first time in a few days. That afternoon, I took an express train to a small station, about an hour south. As the train got farther and farther away from Osaka, more and more people were getting off. By the time I reached my destination, I was one of the only passengers on the train. I stepped onto the platform and felt as if I was in a Ghibli movie. Birds were chirping, the air was clear, mountains towered above me, and I was the only person there.
I checked into the traditional ryokan and was greeting with tea and a yukata to wear. More of my friends arrived, and we enjoyed an 11 course meal and a hot bath afterwards, sleeping on futons on the floor, listening to crickets and bullfrogs.
The next morning, three of us followed a walking guide provided by the ryokan to visit a shrine. The walking guide was cryptic, and I felt like I was on a quest for treasure. We found the crossroads and went straight until we reached an orange bridge. Crossing the bridge, we saw that the shrine was full of people. There was a fire smoking next to an enormous Ginkgo tree, and people were standing and talking, drinking tea and beer. We were offered tea by a small, tan old man in a bucket hat with a Nikon camera around his neck. It was a bizarre experience, as we spoke no Japanese and he spoke no English. 10 minutes later, a priest of sorts in a funny hat used a bamboo leaf to splash hot water onto all of us, and then we all had a cup of sake. After this confusing ceremony, different men in suits gave speeches, while others were flocking to the ginkgo tree to take pictures of an owl that was perched up top. One man later introduced himself in English as a diet member, saying he had been a congressman for 30 years. We took photos together, bowed deeply to everyone, and made our way back through the village. It was a strange, unforgettable experience, but we felt very welcomed in the tiny village.
The village was so small, that the only food besides what was served at the ryokan was a tiny takoyaki stand, open only on the weekends. After a cold swim and a second hot bath, we enjoyed delicious, hot takoyaki in the middle of absolutely nowhere, finished off with sweet shaved ice.
Finally, we decided we should tear ourselves away from the fascinating village, and make our way to our next destination: Nara. We arrived late in the afternoon, and hung out in the hostel common room meeting different people. We played cards with a 30 year British man named Mike, who offered some advice for 19 year olds: don’t spend your money on stupid shit now, but start saving it so you can travel before you get too old. He told us about how he quit his job at 26 and has been traveling the world ever since. His favorite state that he visited in the US was Washington. It was good advice, and has got me thinking guiltily about all the ridiculous things I have purchased in my 19 years that I absolutely do not need.
Sunday led us to Todai-ji temple in Nara, with a five story Buddha inside. It was by far my favorite temple that I have visited in Japan. The sheer size left me breathless. I think it struck me so profoundly, because most of the temples and shrines we have visited have been quite simple and minimalistic. This temple stood out to me because it was so unlike what we have seen before, with three bronze statues towering almost five stories tall, and color and gold plating all over. It was decadent and powerful, and very distinctive.
Sunday afternoon, we made our way back to Kyoto to catch the bullet train back to NYC. Before our late afternoon train, we visited Fushimi Inari shrine, hiking what seemed like forever under bright orange shrine gates, until we reached the summit. We were all disgustingly sweaty when we finally made it to the top, but it was a good feeling, because we had come so far. Again, I was amazed by the beauty of all the orange around me, and the stunning views of Kyoto that came with it.
Overall, it has been an incredibly fulfilling week, even though I have not stopped moving since Monday, and have barely had time to breathe. I have taken in so much in the past seven days that my senses are overwhelmed. My feet and shoulders ache, but my head and my heart are fuller.
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