October: Marking the Closing and Beginning of Cycles

Another four weeks have come and gone marking the third month since my arrival to Japan. If you have visited the Blog recently, you’d noticed that I’ve taken a step back and have taken my time in publishing the current post. So much has happened over the course of just four weeks that I decided to wait for the proper time to re-examine what I’ve seen, heard, and experienced throughout this month. Along with these experiences, this month has also brought with it the “passing away” of a close friend of mine with whom I was able to have some of the most memorable conversations I’ve ever had with anyone. In this respect, October has served the purpose of reminding me about the fragility and uncertainty of life that is evident with the closing and beginning of cycles.

Perhaps it may be wise to begin this post by recounting that I’ve had the fortune to celebrate the end and beginning of yet another year of life this month. It is interesting to note that the date October 2^nd, holds a diverse number of significant events throughout the pages of history. Not only have violent battles (matanzas) have taken place during this time, but this date has also marked the birth of remarkable and influential individuals who have truly moved, inspired, and transformed the world… even if for an instant.

I am honored to have celebrated that day in my own way at the same time that India and the world celebrated Mohatma K. Gandhi’s 140^th birthday. I have always admired Gandhi; not only because of the simplistic and disciplined life he lead by example, but also by his unending compassion and ability to remain equanimous at the face of adversity. His message was simple: 

"Be the change you want to see in this world [and always remember]... that an eye for an eye will make the whole world blind". 

Keeping this in mind, it is not surprising that the United Nations General Assembly actually named this day the International Day of Non-Violence back in 2007. Furthermore, this day is referred to in India as Gandhi Jayanti, a day in which liquor is neither sold nor consumed in his honor. Not a single drop of alcohol is consumed by 1,193,003,000 people* on that day; now that’s respect right there… but enough about Gandhi... for now...

I was glad to wake up to rain that Friday; there is something about riding my bike to work in the rain that is appealing to me. I put on a full Gortex suit and headed out the door to enjoy half a day’s worth of work at Awano chugako. I must have heard “Happy Birthday” over 200 times in both English and Japanese. Had a great day at school over all and decided I would jump on a train and head somewhere south of Fukui to spend the weekend. The rain (a.k.a. torrential pouring...) continued long after I returned to my apato to check out the train schedule. I considered my options and decided to take a step back and just enjoy the afternoon in Tsuruga by going for a bike ride. Ten minutes after heading out, my iPod died; thus, making the song of rain continue to play over and over across my raincoat.

I reached the post office and took care of some errands. A few minutes later I found myself longing to head to the port. There was no one around for miles neither inland nor out in the sea. The water was calm and peaceful, drops of water kept on falling and bouncing off the wooden sea-walk. I sat down on a wet bench to let it all sink in. Slowly the rain began subsiding until eventually there was nothing but silence. A thick white fog began to emerge from the surrounding mountains. The smell of wet wood and concrete was refreshing. I jumped back on my bike and headed towards the Kehi Pine Forest.

This was the first time I had witnessed what it is like to walk through this particular forest after the rain. Within minutes, I was enchanted by wonder. Everything seemed new to me; I thought of nothing - No concern for time or a schedule to observe; no other places or people to see; no interest in what I would have for dinner or what time I would come back to my apartment - to me this was just another day in my life. On one level I wanted to live it as my last day as a “23-year-old” and as my first as a “24-year-old;” however, on a much more relevant level I wanted to experience yet another timeless moment in the series of seconds that make up the nowness.

Riding through the beach and forest’s trails, I immediately became aware of the clear transition between summer and autumn that was beginning to make itself evident. The leaves were starting to change color and spiders were busy packing up their webs and getting ready to find a new location. Kites (hawk-like birds) were flying up high while the seagulls advised them of the proper location to catch fish. I sat down by myself at Matsubara Beach and watched the sunset without thinking about anything. Nighttime came and I headed “home”. I invested an hour preparing a flavorful dinner, gave thanks, read, played guitar, listened to some music, did a bit of research about potential weekend destinations and went to bed. The next morning I woke up early and looked out the window to face a glorious clear and sunny day. I packed up my bag pack, jumped on my bike and headed for the train station.

I purchased a fare which would allow me to get far enough south to reach Kyoto. As I awaited for the Rapid train on platform 5, a few of my students approached me to ask where I was heading. "I'm not sure yet... somewhere south," I replied. Bewildered by my answer they proceeded to board a different train. Two minutes later the train finally arrived, and as I boarded I ran into Felipe, another fellow JET currently working in Obama (a city south of Fukui made famous exactly a year ago by the US Presidential Elections), who was accompanied by two American girls. We sat together and talked for about an hour on our way to Maibara, where each of us would need to make a transfer. It turned out that both of these girls from Wisconsin have actually done much traveling throughout Japan and Asia in general. They shared a few stories and got me very excited about all the potential new destinations I may one day have the fortune to explore.

I thought about going with them to Nagano to check out the "Samurai Festival", but after one of them pulled out a "bible" of an itinerary for just 1.5 days... I decided to abandon ship and carry on with my "flowing solo" adventure. Half an hour after transferring at Maibara, I turned on my iPod and opened a book I’ve been meaning to finish since grade 9 – “The Life of Pi”. I must have zoned-out for a good hour and a half for as soon as I looked out the window I found myself facing Kobe’s tower and the Pacific Ocean. It was intriguing to know that I had spontaneously appeared on the opposing side of the country and was now facing the Pacific coastline; I smiled and hopped off the train. As I stood on the platform I considered whether to stay there or continue flowing. I reached into my pocket to grab a 100-yen coin and flipped it into the air to let "chance" decide...

I remember experiencing that particular moment as if I were watching a slow-motion picture. As I watched the coin spin continuously high up above my head, a train pulled over right beside me. Soon after I caught it and read “Heading to Kyoto” on the train's display screen, the doors opened in front of me and I walked right in. I sat down and opened my hand to look at the coin; the reading was lotus... meaning "head to the next town". I smiled, sat back, re-opened my book and headed eastwards. An hour and fifteen minutes later I was back in the imposing Kyoto station.

It was astonishing to see this massive station with half as many people as I had first experienced it two weeks earlier during the “Silver Week” holiday (those 48 hours proved to be useful training for the day I was about to experience). I headed straight to Foreign Tourist Information Office on the 9^th floor of the Cube department store on a mission to find cheap accommodation for the night. Ten minutes later I was on my way to a very conveniently located hostel south of the station for 2,500 yen a night. I checked in, dropped my stuff off, rented a bike and headed out to explore.

I didn't even look at a map, my sense of direction told me that I would reach the Kamo River if I simply headed northward and made a few right turns after crossing Shiokoji-dori. After reaching the river, I headed down and pedaled right beside the water for about 3 km before reaching the Gion District. I had seen it by night during my previous visit, but seeing it packed with people with all of its stores open was like being there for the first time.

Pedaling my way through the centuries-old-stone-paved-roads of Yasaka-dori, I had the fortune of seeing four Geishas making their way to some kind of engagement at a luxurious restaurant. I kept heading straight, locked up my bike and went up a long staircase. I didn’t know what I would find after reaching the top but every time I took a pick back I would see a superb view of the city below me. Soon after taking the last step, the view of the city didn’t seem appealing any longer for I was facing the biggest stone-Bodhisattva I have ever seen in my life. I went closer to it and sat down as I marveled at its incredible presence.

The sun was beginning to set down and I resolved to keep riding and see as much as I could while there was still light out. Twenty minutes later I was at the entrance gate of the Kiyomizudera (清水寺) Temple, which dates back to 798. Interestingly enough, not a single nail is used in the whole temple complex! It’s name derives from the waterfall that lies within the complex and runs off the nearby hills. In short, Kiyomizu means “clear water” or “pure water”. I broke out a conversation with an American in his late forties and walked into the temple with him. As it turned out, he’s a mathematician currently working in Shanghai who was paying a visit to Kyoto after taking care of a business engagement.

As John and I walked throughout the temple grounds and got to drink from the ancient stream, the sky above us became pitch black until suddenly an enchanting full-moon slowly began to rise between the entrance gate of the Temple and its five-story Pagoda. Since it was my “birthday” a few hours earlier, John offered to treat me over dinner so we could continue our conversation. We walked into a well-known izakaya and enjoyed a delicious dinner while sitting in a tatami room. The bill came to 6,000 yen each so as you can imagine it was a spontaneous gift that I thankfully accepted with my arms wide open.

Following dinner John headed off to the train station to catch a train, and I went back to pedaling along the Kamo River once again in order to reach my hostel. I got up early the next morning, I checked out and researched possibly departure times to the ancient capital of Nara and headed for the station. I had always wondered how to get to the long corridors of Red Torii-s that make up Fushimiinari-taisha shrine in Southern Kyoto, where a scene from the film Memoirs of a Geisha was shot a few years ago (the current Blog’s profile picture was taken there). I overheard the P.A. in the train mention the stop and decided to get off when I reached that point.

As I walked through the long hallways of red lined-up toriis, I actually felt as if I were actually going through a time-portal. The fact that what I was seeing was the same sight that has been seen for centuries by both royalty and common folk alike made me become even more aware of the timelessness of this place. It is interesting to note that the origin of “torii” has been explained by numerous theories; some claim that they are indigenous to Japan, while others view them as having been imported from abroad. Furthermore, no general theory has been accepted regarding the origin of the word. Some theories suggest the term came from an expression signifying something like a “bird perch” (tori-iyasu or tori-ita), while other theories have suggested that the name originated in the expression “pass through and enter” (tori-iru). At any rate, based on their actual present-day function, they could be considered an expression of the division between the profane  and sacred realms; thus, marking the gateway between the uchi (inside) and the soto (outside).

By 3 PM I reached the ancient capital of Nara, by far one of the most spectacular cities I have ever come to visit. Contrary to the popular belief that Kyoto was Japan’s first capital, Nara actually preceded it for 74 years and at the time of its founding in 710, it became known as “Heijo-kyo” (Citadel of Peace). Since this city became the far eastern destination of the “Silk Road,” Nara inevitably absorbed ideas from mainland Asia, which would eventually transform it into the powerful diocese (center) of Buddhism in Japan. Miraculously, many of its old wooden buildings have survived the test of time and it currently contains 7 of UNESCO’s World Heritage List of irreplaceable sites of the cultural heritage of all humanity.

Interestingly enough, I was actually led astray by the Tourist information office. After asking how to reach Nara Park, I was told to take a right… at the main intersection; thus, I ended up walking for about 1.5 hours on the opposite direction. Gratefully, by being “lost”, I got to see a part of Nara that is seldom seen by tourists. Walking my way through rice-fields, community houses, and playgrounds while following the river’s pattern, I got to see spectacular flowers, insects, and sights that I could have never imagined. Eventually, I reached a bus stop and thus managed to finally reach Nara Park.

Given that my time was now limited, I decided to make a quick stop at the Todai-ji Temple to pay a visit to the Daibutsu, Japan's largest bronze image of the Buddha (16-m high statue), housed within the world’s largest wooden building that currently remains standing. Finally, it is worth noting that on top of the rich cultural heritage found in Nara, another of its famous attractions is the abundance of deer roaming throughout Nara Park in search of enthusiastic tourists willing to spend a few yen on deer-biscuits to feed them with.

As my visit came closer to its end and I made my way through the temple’s central Boulevard, I suddenly had what is often referred to as “déjà vu”. In other words, I suddenly felt as if I had already been in this exact place at some other stage of my past. What at first seemed new and exotic now felt familiar and recognizable. (Note: I will explore this further in another post at a later time).

An any rate, I made my way back to the station and headed back to Kyoto to catch a train back to Tsuruga. Sitting on the train while watching the sun begin to set, I promised myself that I would return to Nara at some point in the not-so-distant-future. Thus, my spontaneous “birthday-weekend” came to its conclusion and made me even more convinced that although there are many things I’m yet to learn (remember), while there are others that I may never come to know for "certain", the only thing I DO KNOW is that I live the dream on a moment-to-moment basis. 


In this respect, whether it’s the end or the beginning of a cycle, I am always home.

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* Department of Economic and Social Affairs Population Division (2009) (.PDF). World Population Prospects, Table A.1. 2008 revision. United Nations.