Except for that Night in Kyoto

Things have been kind of lousy this week. The jetlag got really intense since I returned, with the result that I’ve spent almost every day staring abstractly at the sandpaper that coats the walls of my cubicle. If I weren’t so gratified by blowing on the dandelions in the backyard, I think I could make for quite a good modern-day Sartre. Sadly, I’m riveted by the dandelions, so there’s another dream denied.

I think I’m just feeling dismal about what the upcoming year is going to look like; neither my living nor work situation seems to be terribly promising right now. Last night I was either going to start freaking out in my room or in a public space, so I chose option B and pelted back to the office to take Bob hostage. Bob is a kindly soul because he bears well with me when I’m in a foul mood. Especially since my foul moods entail me coaxing my limbs into uncomfortable seated positions and interjecting the phrases “fucking asshole” and “dickish” into every sentence. We closed the evening by singing karaoke - “You Spin Me Round” - with Jeremy at the Ivy. Dead or Alive never sounded so good. Oh right, except for that night in Kyoto. 

On nights like that, I really miss the city. There’s something reassuring about walking along Broadway in the cold rain. It forces you to confront yourself about why you took the walk in the first place. And I miss Low steps.

Where We Left Off

My first real day in Japan, Katy, Kana and I took a day trip to this charming town in the Kyoto prefecture called Uji. This day stands out as an all-time high from my trip, because Uji is famous for its green tea and for Byodo-in, a gorgeous temple complex with a phoenix-hall situated on its central pond. 

The reason I liked Uji so much is because it affords a truly multisensory experience. We turned down the main road leading to Byodo-in, and suddenly Kana said, “smell the matcha (green tea)!!” and there it was, perfuming the entire street. Little vendors held out cups of fresh, fragrant tea, and there was even a weird whirling machine that churned out tea leaves ready to be packaged. Everything smelt and tasted like green tea, which was kind of intoxicating; I tried the matcha mochi (pounded rice flavoured with green tea), which was gooey and delicious. Needless to say, we made very slow progress towards the temple grounds.

Byodo-in was apparently built around 1052. As we entered, the first thing we noticed were the stunning purple flowers dangling from a wooden trellis. One of the nicest things about the Japanese is that they appreciate their own nature; aside from all the tourists, we were mostly jostling with locals to get a good shot under the vines. The main structure in Byodo-in is called “Amida Hall,” or the Phoenix Hall. It’s situated right in the middle of a small body of water, and is stunning from every vantage point. At the very top stand two phoenixes, each poised as if caught in the moment before flight. There additionally used to be a frieze featuring about 52 (I think!) bodhisattvas, but they’ve now relocated these to the adjoining museum. The gardens, the architecture, the residue of matcha in the air; it really made me feel for the first time, how far removed I was from home. In a gladdening way. On the way back, we ate these amazing matcha parfaits (green tea ice cream, mochi, and anko (red bean paste)), which convinced me that I had died and gone to paradise. Because, holy trinity and whatnot aside, it just doesn’t get better than this triumferate.