Another day in Kyōto: Cows, Shrines and Wet Wet Undies
- Kyoto, Japan
- Apr 20, 2015
- 7 min read
Japan is said to be a country with four separate seasons. Meaning that the country is supposed to have long, hot summers; red, rainy autumns; cold, white winters; and sunny, pleasant springs, all in the right months. They even have cherry blossom forecasts: in December they can already tell which days are the best for 花見 [はなみ, hanami: traditional flower viewing festival. During this festival everyone goes picnicking under the 桜 (さくら, sakura: cherry blossom)]. That all sounds very much unlike The Netherlands, where summer usually falls on a wednesday, winter on a tuesday, and autumn rules the rest of the year, no matter what the forecasts say. Now, when I arrived at the beginning of april, all ready for hanami, I started wondering whether a monsoon is a usual part of Japanese spring. Judging by all the Japanese people apologising to me about the weather, it isn't. Hajime-san, my guest father, seems to think it's extraordinarily funny that the weather gods have changed their plans just for me: he even gave me the nickname 雨女 [あめおんな, ame onna: rain woman].
It's not like it has been raining continuously, though. I've seen some better days, and even got to do some hanami myself. During my last trip to Kyōto, the weather was actually quite nice! The forecasts are good and it seems like finally, after two weeks here in Japan, things are looking up. But not just yet! I guess you can say that my second visit to the famous city kind of flooded. I have never, ever seen that much rainfall in one day. And I'm Dutch, for crying out loud! It just came straight down, with a steady beat, and it wasn’t about to stop.
I never use an umbrella at home, but here in Japan, I do. I bought a nice white one with pink frills and a little bow. Very kawaii. Japanese people are so flabbergasted when you walk around without an umbrella, that everyone is going to offer you theirs. Even when you politely decline, some of them will go as far as to walk behind you, keeping you 'dry' while getting all wet in themselves. The problem with that is that I don’t give a rat’s tail if I get wet: it’s uncomfortable, but I’ll live, you know? I never got ill from a bit of rain. Japanese people, however, seem to get ill from everything. With the frequency they visit hospitals and with the amount of pills they take at each meal, I have no idea how they are even alive. On my first day here, I saw someone get ill from keeping an umbrella over my head. She was floored for three days. So that’s why I use an umbrella while I’m in Japan: I don’t want my carelessness to be responsible for anyone’s death, you see…
Today, I had another day in Kyōto on the menu. Rain or no rain. So here I was, in this ancient city, with the heaviest flow I’d ever seen beating down on my umbrella. I don’t think my underwear ever stood a chance: within minutes, every last bit of fabric on me was completely soaked. It’s a good thing I had an umbrella, you guys. But seriously, there wasn’t much I was going to do about it, so I tried to ignore the sticky, scratchy feeling with every step I took.
I have to admit, the city looked a lot different in this kind of weather. Two days ago the city was absolutely crowded: now, the streets were almost empty, except for a few brave men running in a very ambitious attempt not to get wet. There weren’t even many cars out (though I guess that was sheer luck, ‘cause with puddles like that, you know…). It was a bit of a depressing sight. That’s Monday for you, I guess.
There wasn’t anything concrete on my list for today, so I just hopped on a subway to Nijō, because I saw on the map that there was supposed to be a castle. When I got out of the station, I quickly spotted one of the outer towers. That looked promising! There wasn’t an entrance in sight though, so I started following the outer wall. There had to be an entrance eventually, right? Well let me tell you, that was quite the wall. It took me at least 20 minutes to reach the other end of it – admitted, I might have been delayed a bit by the tsunami that gushed from my shoes with every step I took. Two little private pools stuck to your feet aren’t very contributory, I can tell you that much. Anyway, when I finally reached the entrance, it looked a hell of a lot like a closed gate to me. Of course, there was a little sign on the gate. Closed on Mondays. Well, isn’t that just my luck.
I took another look at the map and saw that there were quite some little temples and shrines nearby. I had no idea what else to do, so I decided to just take a route past all of them. The strange thing is, when you see so many of those buildings at once, they just sort of start to look exactly alike. Depressing weather like this also doesn’t do the scenery any good. I was getting all sorts of done with this place. Surely there must be something more interesting in a city like this?
I saw countless of those temples and shrines, but eventually, I found one that stood out. Later I found out that this shrine is one of the more important ones in Kyōto, but at the time I was there, it was completely deserted. Not quite desert-ed, of course, ‘cause here, too, I was up to my ankles in the muddy water. If this continued, I could eventually proceed my way swimming instead of walking. Didn’t sound too bad, actually. Anyway, the shrine I had ended up at was 北野天満宮 [きたのてんまんぐう, Kitano Tenmangū]. The shrine, which has a very impressive entrance, is dedicated to a scholar who lived in the 10th century, so it is very popular with students. The reason it piqued my interest though, is that distributed over the entire grounds, are various cow statues. The statues all wore pieces of cloth around their necks, and some of the brass ones had worn off bits on their backs and noses. Apparently, these statues were being praised a lot. Later on I learned that the pieces of cloth on statues at shrines are put there by mothers who have lost their babies – I think I’d rather not have known.
A few days earlier, Hajime-san taught me how to pray Shintō style, and these cows were inviting me to try it out by myself. I didn’t have anything to pray for though, so I started wondering who I could say a prayer for. Then I remembered that my sister has been looking for a new house for months, but never had any luck – she could sure use some divine help. Besides, she’s completely mad about cows, so this was totally here shrine. Can’t do any harm to try, right? First I said a prayer at the main building, but I was a bit bummed, because it didn’t have a cow statue. Shortly after that I came across a tiny statue with a mini-shrine at the very back of the grounds – it was adorable and exactly what I was looking for, so hey, one more prayer while I’m at it! My sister’s worth it.
After I said my prayers I continued my route along the shrines. Even in the pouring rain in the most boring part of Kyōto I found some time to shop – who knew, right? Armed with my new shirts, belt, hairpin and floating devices, I accidentally drifted up to one of the most famous spots of Kyōto: 金閣寺 [きんかくじ: Kinkaku-ji]. Literally translated, its name means “Gold Pavillion Temple”, and it’s not called like that for nothing, that much I knew. It wasn’t exactly the best weather to visit a gold plated temple, but now I was here, I’d still like to see it. Who knew when I got another chance? I was almost at the entrance when I got cold feet: the entrance fee was ¥1000, which is already pretty much for a temple, but it was also absolutely crowded with Chinese tourists. That temple is probably overrated anyway. Moving on.
By now I started to feel a little forlorn. Was there really nothing spectacular to do on a day like this? I had heard so much of Kyōto, but seeing it like this, I honestly wondered where all those stories came from. I grabbed something to eat at a 7-Eleven and took a look at a rail map. I saw a little line on it that looked different from the rest, so I decided I might as well check it out. I had to take a subway to go to that little rail thingy – that’s how desperate I was to see something. Anyway, I wasn’t disappointed (after a day like this I guess you could even call it excited), because the thingy turned out to be a tiny tram. Kawaii. The thing took me one subway station further for like ¥280. Ah well. At least I could go window shopping there.
Around dinnertime I got on a raft and rowed my way back to the central station. I was disappointed, I was soaking wet, I was freezing, and I was done. I was going to leave Kyfloato behind and head home, to a nice, warm, and most of all dry bed.
Bonus: as soon as I got back to my homestay, I got a call from my sister. She had found the perfect house and chances were very high that she’d get it. Spoiler: she actually got it. Can you imagine? I don’t easily believe, but… Thank the cows, I guess.
Comments