How I Fell in Love with Kyoto...Again

I'd be lying if I said my initial attraction to Kyoto wasn't spurred by my devotion to the book "Memoirs of a Geisha," a novel I fell so hopelessly in love with back in high school, that I read it every summer for at least five consecutive years. The movie was disappointing enough to free me of my obsession with the book, but when I decided to move to Japan, I chose the Osaka/Kyoto area instead of Tokyo, largely because I wanted to be close to this city that, in my mind, seemed almost mythical, it was so enchanting to me.

And so of course, as is often the case when you come face to face with your fantasy, my first trip to Kyoto was slightly disappointing. Though it's still a traditional Japanese city in comparison to Osaka or Tokyo, it looked like every other city in the world at first glance. Traffic, pollution, tall buildings, harassed pedestrians dodging homicidal taxis...it was nothing special. But then I turned off on a small side street so that I could fish something out of my bottomless bag, when I heard fluttering silk and shuffling feet. I looked up to see a maiko (an apprentice geisha) a few mere steps from me. Maiko are difficult to spot in Kyoto, as they are notoriously private and many of the ones seen on the streets are actually tourists who have paid to dress up as a maiko for the day. This one gave me a close-mouthed smile (maiko rarely show their teeth because the white face paint makes them look yellow) without pausing, and before I could take the cap off my camera lens she had disappeared behind a sliding door, obviously skilled at dodging tourists. I did manage a few more glimpses of maiko as they scurried in and out of sliding doors, floating rather than walking. Geisha tend to entertain mostly at private parties, where only Japan’s most elite and influential men are invited to attend. Despite many Westerner’s (and some Japanese’s) impressions, a geisha’s occupation is not prostitution, but rather dancing, playing instruments, conducting tea ceremonies, and engaging in light, flirtatious conversation. At their height of popularity in the 20s, there were close to 80,000 geisha working in Japan. Now a dying art, their number is thought to be much closer to 1,000.

The sky began to show signs of dusk, as the sky blushed in shades of pink and orange, and Japan’s ubiquitous red paper lanterns lit up, storefronts glowed warmly inside, food vendors started up their smoky grills, and I fell in love with a new Kyoto, only slightly different from the one I had envisioned. The magic of this city seems to happen on the side streets, away from the bustling crowds, where sliding doors and the hushed whisperings of flowing silk hint at a culture that few ever see. Since that night, I've been to Kyoto several times, and I love it a little more each time. How on earth I could have ever seen it as a generic city is beyond me.

Today I went to Kennin-ji Temple, as well as a street fair where I proceeded to eat something from nearly every booth, and then had some sort of allergic reaction that left me feeling like I had swallowed a few hundred splinters. The food was amazing though, and well worth the allergic reaction. Click here for pictures.

And for pictures of my first trip to Kyoto, back in July, please click here.