Long over-due tribute to the magical country of Japan

This is a long over-due tribute to a country and a city which quickly became a favourite for me last autumn. 

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After my first day in Tokyo, which was a blur of confusion, getting lost on the streets, armies of suits walking by and through me in a never-ending procession, seemingly faceless masks of hurried professionalism, amidst blinding lights and sharp music, not understanding a single street-sign or shop title, getting lost in the super-market, just once breathing out in a wonderful wooden bath in my ryokan, only to get lost on the streets once again- in fact by the end of my first day feeling so lost, alone, confused and in an alien world that for the first time in my life (no- I lie- my first day in India might have been similar) was wondering if this time I tried to bite off more than I can chew- I have escaped to my true destination and am in the cultural centre of Japan- Kyoto. Big cities were never my thing. Not that Kyoto is a small city mind you, but it has the instant warm welcoming air of one nevertheless. Wheew! 

I am in Kyoto. And I am in love. 

I am in love with the pleasant sunny glow of autumn which stirs and awakes on the warm colours of the trees as I take my daily morning walks by the canal. People crossing my path seem to be in no hurry, they amble slowly watching the wonder of autumn, or whirl by on bicycles. An instant feeling of peace, what a nice way to start the day.

The Japanese are devout worshippers of nature. In fact it was nearly impossible to find accommodation at this time of year, cause people travel from all over the country to observe the wonder of the colours of the autumn foliage in this city so beloved for its gardens around the temples.

Oh- how in love I am with the thousands of temples (a staggering 1600 Buddhist temples in fact) that surround this town and keep breathing life into it. 

Suddenly a passionate temple-walker, from first light into husky darkness which is especially eerie in a bamboo grove up the hills, there never seems to be enough day-light to See and Be in this haven of mystery and magic.

I am totally transfixed by the art-form that is the Japanese garden. No a gust of artificiality anywhere, every circle on sand drawn with some kind of superhuman power of focus and love, yet at the same time not a shade of an accident even in the location of the fallen leaves, nowhere an imperfection. Texture within layer within colour within texture, my eyes sink and sink into this marvel, into each such Temple for Nature. I take photos like I’m mad, surrounded by people taking photo after photo, it is a feast, it is some sort of ancient shamanistic ritual I have “accidentally” fallen into, I am feeling very Alice-like indeed. And when I go to sleep I dream of colours, of textures, of leaves, of circles on sands.

I am in love with the Japanese people. Shy at first, but with a deep kindness emerging soon after, almost relentless in politeness and manners, you would be wise to leave them the last word in thanking you, because they will always top your last thank you with an even more polite version and an even deeper bow. I learn to think twice before asking for directions, because even if they do not understand me or don’t know the place I search, people go so much out of their way to help me that no words like- thank you very much, don’t worry, I will find it, seem to release them from your small request for guidance. (Besides getting lost in this city is nothing if not wonderful). Always bowing and apologizing before taking the seat next to you on the tube. Mysterious, deep people with so much poise and such gentle being. I love the way they joyously shout welcome in a chorus when I enter a restaurant and the way my wonderful little inn-keeper tries to give me a present for the second time, merely because I have yet again extended my stay.

I am in love with the country-side of colour-bursting hills and little villages. 

Hiking up and down the river with countless of elderly locals, I am in awe of how fit they are and how much spring their steps hold, in fact from what I see I have a strange vision in my mind that these people will probably die perfectly healthy, in a middle of a hike, out of choice and nothing else. Everybody greeting me as if I was a dear acquaintance. I breathe in the fresh air, the chorus of Konnichiwaaaaaa (hello), and the infectious smiles.

I am in love with the meandering streets of the old Geisha district in the evening-time, spotless alleys with beautiful wooden houses, silent lantern-adorned alleys with only an occasional shadow disappearing around a corner or into some house, the whole feeling to it as if there is still a great secret in this place. Indeed the curtains to these seemingly quiet houses tremble occasionally, here is a whiff of a freshly cooked ramen, there is a chuckle of laughter and a rogue flicker of light from within. I am mesmerized and drawn like a moth to these streets and their secrets but only once catch a sight of a hurried perfectly clad geisha walking in her fast-paced small steps in front of me.

I am in love with the tea.

And of course the food.

I am in love with the way the high-tech and high-fashion city centre poses no apparent clash to the wealth of nature, culture, history and tradition that surrounds this city. It is not old vs. new, materialistic vs. spiritual- perhaps it is nature and love of nature here that blends in these opposites to a whole, the old embracing the new in loving arms through the wisdom of the seasons of nature.

I am also aware that I'm seeing everything in the superlative, yet isn't that the inescapable effect of being in love?

How quiet is my mind after 10 short days and mostly- full of awe, every step is accompanied by my spirit saying Wow! 

It is not difficult to see why Zen is rooted here. 

~

It was more than difficult to see Japan in disaster and mourning. My continuous heart-felt blessings to this wonderful country!