The Art of Giving

"And I have given you a land for which ye did not labour, and cities which ye built not, and ye dwell in them; of the vineyards and oliveyards which ye planted not do ye eat."

Since arriving in Japan, and even before leaving, I have found myself on the receiving end of so many wonderful things. Support, both financially and spiritually, has been showered upon me so that I'm caught between bowing under it's weight and stretching higher to reach it all.  In Japan gift giving is a huge part of the culture, we wouldn't dare go to a house without first making sure we have something to give, and out hostess wouldn't dream of letting us leave without first offering us tea of some sort. Monday, being cultural day, we got the immense privilege of visiting with the Virtuoso* sisters at Lady Adroit's house. Lady Adroit is the elder of the two sisters, and she is a spectacular artist. Everything, it seems, that she puts her hand to prospers.  Painting, pottery, sewing, all these come alive in her hands, but she is most famous for her Chigirie (pictures made from torn paper).

         When we went over to her house we first were allowed to admire her work hanging in the hall, then we were seated and given coffee in cups more like bowls than mugs, and served on the cutest trays, with the sugar in Japanese style packets - long and thin. Then the dishes were cleared away and she produced paper and glue. Sitting down, with all five of us foreigners gathered close around her, she dove her hands into the plastic bag of rumpled scraps and, drawing paper from the sack,  proceeded to let her fingers fly. First to the glue dish, then to the postcard. Ripping and tearing and smoothing bits of paper until, before we knew it, a rose had emerged.  After that she demonstrated how to make a morning glory and set us loose.

              
     Twenty minutes later, our hands freshly washed to release them from the glue, we put away the paper and sat down to eat lunch. Yakisoba, with special green soba noodles, sushi rice with crab and avocado, salads that tasted slightly of vinegar, and salads from Misty's own kitchen, were all crowded on to the table and we commenced to eat and eat.

 When we couldn't possibly raise our hashi (chopsticks) one more time, or bring our glasses of mugicha to our lips, Lady Adroit turned on the T.V. and let us watch her daughter's wedding. Her daughter was married with a traditional shinto ceremony. The sipping of the sake, the giving of branch offerings, and the temple maiden's prayer dance highlighted the affair. The bride and groom wore the customary clothes, including the bridal hat that, as Misty told me, is worn to hide the bride's horns. After the ceremony the group goes on to the reception. This is the part of the wedding that friends can attend. Lights, music, cakes for the guest to decorate, rice for them to pound into mochi, and the sporadic entrance of the bride in a different dress characterized the evening. In Japan it is not unusual to have the bride change three or four time during the reception, Lady Adroit's daughter wore five different outfits through the course of the wedding. Three dresses and two kimonos, each with its own bouquet, and hair style.

             After the movie we had another cup of coffee and snuck up stairs to see a chigirie picture of a famous cherry tree ( or sakura tree). Then we gave our adieus with all the warmth in our heart and danced away to visit a baby girl not more than three days old. Our arms were filled with paper for us to practice chigirie with, and we each carried one of Lady Adroit's own works. Those are not the only priceless things that have been kindly given to us. A lady at church loves to bring sheets of paper, and exquisite dolls made by her friends. And even my dad has given me a gift since I've come here. He always makes me take a spare pair of glasses when I travel and a few days ago, when I broke my main pair, I was able to settle last year's model on my nose without even turning a hair. While a full list of the blessings God has showered on us would be too long and too tasteless, I hope that sharing these few with you has helped you see the wonder of His love. 

*As I'm making up names for all my new contacts they might sound a little weird, especially when preceded by a "Lady" or a "Sir." Bear with me, these two titles mark the person as Japanese and, more eternally significant, as not yet believing, giving you the opportunity to pray for them.  

** The poll results are in and it looks like a tie, so I'm casting my own vote to tip the scale. Look for another post in a week or so. 

Time Warp in Kyoto - Installment the Third

Well, I've been wanting to get this series wrapped up, and this post will do it. I'm going to be telling you a little bit of what we did in Kyoto, but the focus will be the food. I'll try to squeeze a few formal introductions into the post too, so you can start feeling as if you know these people. As is only proper, we're going to start off with Monday's breakfast. 

The morning has already been an adventure. The shower here at the inn is designed for rinsing off before bathing. The bathroom contains a huge sunken tub, which is covered most of the time, and two shower heads hanging on the wall. That's it. The other essentials that you'd expect to find in a bathroom are elsewhere. But that doesn't affect my shower, and now I'm done with my morning preparations and ready for breakfast. The ladies at the inn actually make us our breakfast, and serve it to us on a low table. I sit down across from Misty. She's the lady who picked us up from the airport last night, arranged for the bus from Osaka to Kyoto, and has opened her house up for us to live in. Next to me, on my right, is Ms. I, who I met two weeks ago at blaze. Her friend, Ms. A, sits across from her, completing our quartet. The lovely innkeeper comes in with our breakfast - fruit and yogurt, toast and jam, and an egg poached in a tomato - and we all "fall to."  

Breakfast conquered, we file outside and mount our bicycles. We're off to the Imperial palace to reserve spots for the different English tours we'll be taking, and then we are off again to the Nishijin Textile Center to see a kimono fashion show and drool over the beautiful clothes. Passing school children on the sometimes-narrow sidewalks sure gives one an appetite. This is a replica of what I had for lunch. Having plastic replicas of the menu for customers to look at is a common practice here in Japan, and very useful for us gaijen (foreigners). 

Tuesday dawns a little cloudy, and we place umbrellas and  raincoats in our bicycles' baskets. It's quite a bike to the  station, where we board a train to take us to the Imperial  Villa. We leave with visions of bridges and tea houses still in our  heads, and enter a train bound toward Nara, home of incorrigible  deer and the Todaji Temple. We eat lunch on the train, a variety of things  bought at the station: rice wrapped in fried tofu, assorted onigiri (rice balls), and sushi.  Back in Kyoto we've still a bit more sightseeing to do, but it's all worth it when we sit down to an entertaining night at Zoronpa, where the yakisoba and okonomiyaki is cooked at the bar and then brought to our own personal stovetop to keep it warm while we eat. 

Tomorrow, Wednesday, we will travel halfway  across Kyoto on bicycles in search of recommended shops; we'll  see the five story pagoda temple called Toji, and the extravagant Kinkakuji (golden temple); however, the most wonderful event of all will be when we make a complicated journey by shinkazen (bullet train) to our new home, Hikari. 

In Which the Cast is Offhandedly Mentioned

Well, I still need to do a post about Kyoto's food, but keeping you up to date takes precedence (and I've been given some very strong hints about my ten day delay). We've already passed my first two Sundays in Hikari, my trip to Yanai, and even the first week of English classes. So this post is going to be busy, busy, busy. Lets get going!

 (A letter from a friend brightens a rainy Saturday)

Sunday starts with breakfast. Then the house goes under a transformation as we turn a home into a church. Almost as soon as we are done praying for the service people start arriving. We take seats and wait as one of the ladies leads us in worship and prayer. I stumble along  in the singing, my hirigana isn't good enough for me to keep up. Pastor (Mr. Toothy)  gives us his message, and I can sort of  follow it because Misty ( Mrs. Toothy) took the time to explain it to us before hand. After service we have tea and lots of talk. Sometimes we have a curry lunch instead of the mugicha and mochi. Mmm, things taste so good here. Oishii! That first Sunday afternoon we went with the Toothys to the church in Hirao, but this week they went by themselves. They want to keep the foreigner level down. 

English classes started last week. Technically  they were kengaku (trial classes). We have classes in Hirao on Tuesday; they're held in the church there, which doubles as an apartment for the youngest member of the team, Mr. Cove. For the past year Mr. Cove has been away on different internships, but that doesn't mean the place goes unused. We have three classes there in the morning, one in the afternoon, and, at the moment, one at night. On Wednesdays we stay in Nijigaoka for our classes. We also have our Japanese lessons that day. If the schedule doesn't change then I'll only be teaching one night class on Wednesday, but there other classes going on all day.  Last Thursday was a real treat, we went to Shunan and taught a group of women at the church there. Instead of dividing them up into small, level classes we kept them in one group and just talked and played games. Because people were at different levels we'd often have the more adapt English users translating our instructions, or helping someone form sentences. It won't stay like that,  because we want English class not English club, but it was a fun way to meet everybody.  

As to the actual teaching, it is like nothing else in the world. When I teach, it is as if someone has switched on the autopilot. Or as if someone Greater has reached down and taken the controls out of my hand. It isn't at all like public speaking, which makes you more aware then ever of yourself. It's more like dreaming, or breathing. An inexplicable instinct; an automated response. But that was the first week, when I was running on nerves. Maybe today will be different. 

Time Warp in Kyoto - Installment the second

So, yesterday was an improvment on those previous monosyllabic posts, but it had very little information in it. Today will be different. I'm going to show you some of the places we went in Kyoto. Lets start out with a little cultural lesson: In Japan, buildings must be at least five hundred before being considered old. If they want to be seen as having historical importance they should aim for one thousand. There's a loop hole in this guidline though, for Japanese architecture is really prone to fires. In fact, people point to it as proof that lighting does strike twice, or thrice, or five-ce. Okay, lets start with the inn we stayed at. 

Nashinoki Ryokan 

Merely a hundred years old, and run by the sweetest couple, this inn provived shelter, breakfast (you'll see that some other time), and bicylces. In the picture you can see our futons all rolled up. Like all good japanese houses, you took your shoes off before coming in, wore toilet slippers in the bathroom, and were offered the use of the ufon (the Japanese bath). With tatami mats, turkish toilets, and parperd doors, the cultural expectations of this traveler were quickly fulfilled. 

The Kyoto Imperial Palace 

 This is one of those indomitable structures, with the tenacity of a dandilion. It was built back in 794, making it a little over a thousand years old, but it has been burned down so many times 

that the current structures only date back a hundred and sixty years. These buildings are used mainly for show now, the capital was moved to Tokyo in 1869 and the Emporer has other places to dwell when he comes down to visit Kyoto. 

The Omiya Imperial Palace

Enclosed by the same stone wall that surounds the Imperial palace above, this imperial compound is lush with greenery. It's referred to in the guidebook as the Sento palace, but there has been no Sento palace here since 1854, when the last one burned down. The Sento palace, now only history, used to house retired Emperors. The Omiya palace, as pictured, was for dowager Empresses. But, as with most of these houses, the real beauty is in the detailed landscape.  

The Nijo-jo (Castle)

Funnily enough, I have been to this castle before, though it seems quite a number of years ago now. Cameras are band beyond a certain point, so the real beauty of the place - its ancient painted screens, exquisite wood carvings, and even its decorative nails - must be viewed in person. The coolest thing about Nijo though is not it's looks but it's sound. It is equipped with something known as a nightingale floor, a floor designed to alert it's owners to the presence of an enemy through the squeaks and chirps created when it's stepped on. Since most homeowners like their floors to be silent this invention is rarely found outside of Nijo.

 

The Katsura Imperial Villa 

This Villa is, in my opinion, the cream of the crop. Located far enough from Kyoto that we had to take the train instead of out bikes, the villa was so perfect, so natural, so superior to the other palaces, that I even bought a pocket guide book. Luckily for those non-visual people, the ones who just hate seeing pictures of a place, who prefer to read about things instead, my camera's batteries were on the blink and I was constantly having to turn the silly thing off to fool it into thinking it had enough power for just one more picture.The Katsura Villa was walled in with an impressive bamboo hedge known as the Katsura-gaki (literally - Katsura hedge, but lets pretend it has some obscurer meaning).

Within this hedge, and on the other side of a number of fences and gates, lay the garden and tea houses, pearls protected by their oyster shells. The Shokin-tei, the Shoka-tei, and the Shoi-ken are prime examples of dignity and subtly, mixed a romantic ruggedness. The Shokin-tei was my favorite of these tea houses, but even it was topped by the garden. The buildings of Katsura are all at the beck and call of the gi-normous pond which sprawls in their midst. Every window, doorway, tree, and stone seems placed with the pond in mind. It is under the bridges, around the islets, and idling on the stone shore of Katsura.     

"Let Your works appear to your servants, and Your glory to their children. And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us"     - Psalm 90: 16-17

  

Time Warp in Kyoto - Installment the First

Dear friends, I'm attempting to write this post with the knowledge that it might be a many day project. But I've decided to have no more of those skimpy one-liners that I've been indulging  in. These post are brought to you by Falcon, the T-rusty laptop, and my camera, who has no name. Please, let me know if I'm putting too many pictures up, I don't want to be a hard page to load. 

Now, on to the featured presentation. 

Bicycling in Kyoto is one of those pure joys that reminds us of God's original intention for Earth.  It ma

y be humid when you're sitting still, or even when you're merely walking along, but sitting on the seat of the bicycle, weaving in and out of sidewalk traffic, the wind plays a song for your body and soul. 

Here we are, the four of us, the leader in the front with the rest trailing behind in a line. Ducks on a pond, almost, passing all kinds of interesting things upon the shore. All around us the people of Kyoto go to and fro. The baby faced intern, in his suit and tie, whizzes past us, his briefcase resting in his basket like a shiny loaf of bread. Mothers, their kids balanced alarmingly in bright red seats, ride serenely by. From the young school girls, in their grey, pleated, knee length skirts, to the iron haired salary man, Kyoto's sidewalks are filled with the miracle of two wheeled flight. Sailing down the side walk, gracefully executing turns, waiting for the electronic chirping that accompanies the blue light of crosswalk freedom, we are the Unconquerable. 

The Ten Second Post

おはおございます！
In an inn. Seeing lots. Taking pictures.

Love,
B

"The cabinet fell to the floor and burst apart, glass flying everywhere, then sprang up onto the wall, fully mended, then down again, and shattered....[it] continued to fall, shatter, and repair itself on the wall behind them."

– J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. (p790-794) 

Pre-wedding jitters, cold feet, butterflies: all of these are nice ways of describing the nervous breakdowns that are part of the most exciting times of our lives. Every rose has its thorns, and every event has it angst, and I am in the throes of mine. The image of glass shattering over and over, but never truly breaking for good, sums up the conditions of my insides pretty well. Only the thing that keeps bringing the pieces all together is not some deep magic, nor is it my DLV (dry little voice), the one that keeps telling me I'm being over dramatic. No, its something completely different, and as irritating in its confidence as the raw nerves themselves. Its the thin, yet diamond strong, safety line of faith that has been wrapped around my heart. It keeps sending me little encouraging message such as "the battle belongs to the Lord," and "if God is with us who can be against us?" But, strangely enough, the idea I find most reassuring is that God surely knows what He is doing, right down to the effect it is having on my peace. Even just writing it I can feel myself relax. Well, sort of, I just remembered that I'm still not done packing. I feel another panic attack coming on, but this time I'll try to weather it out. Maybe I'll even listen to my DLV and wear a smile instead of a raincoat.