Biwako

An important part of S's grant experience here in Kyoto was meeting regularly for lunch with an American born colleague, Carl, who has been at Kyodai for most of his career. For the final "meeting," we met Carl and his wife, also an academic, in a town on Lake Biwa (near their home) for a fun and interesting day on the shore of Japan's largest lake.

After visiting a small "floating" Zen temple, we enjoyed lunch at a restaurant specializing in local vegetables, fish, and meat. The restaurant was at a larger market selling local foods, and it was very interesting (and delicious) to wander around and sample the goods.

We spent the afternoon touring a regional cultural and natural history museum that was really quite remarkable in its size and exhibits. It was especially interesting to get an overview of the geology of the area in which we've been living, but J's favorite part was the extensive aquarium with various exhibits of mostly local fish.

Much of the fun of the day was to visit with Carl and Akiko. As if often the case with friendships in academia, it turns out that we know many of the same people and places.

I have to thank Carl for these pictures--I had taken the data card out of my camera the day before and neglected to reinstall it for our excursion. Thanks, Carl!

We work almost as hard as we play

We've been here and there, doing this and that, this past week. Monday and Tuesday we spent in Nagoya (about 35 minutes from Kyoto Station via bullet train). There, we visited the Nanzan Institute for Religious Studies so that we could familiarize ourselves with their resources (including an amazing library) and meet their staff. We were hosted by James Heisig, a prominent scholar and editor of world religions and philosophy, as well as language (he famously wrote "Remembering the Kanji," which we had checked out of Middlebury's library for months), and stayed in the institute's community house. We were given an office to use during our time there (good for naps while the adults did boring reading, J thought), which is pictured below.

We also visited our friend K, who is studying there this term, and her advisor, with whom we had a delightful French lunch. J's favorite part of our trip was coming home. He's not a big fan, yet, of research institutes and French cafes.

Since then, S has been finishing up his classes. Pictured below is his last (unofficial) class meeting at Kyodai.

We've been wandering around our neighborhood recently, and have found many interesting things within just a few blocks of our apartment, including a Buddhist temple (which we can see from our window) and a small inari (fox) shrine. And yes, that is a parasol I am carrying. It's hot here, OK?

J has been working hard, too--at the department store playland, the wading pool at the children's park, and wherever else he can find little kids and a little freedom from his boring adults.

Akashi and Ashiya

Last weekend, we visited one of S's colleagues and his family in Ashiya, a small city to our west. Ashiya is home to the Tanizaki Jun'ichiro Museum of Literature, which we had been wanting to visit (our friend was able to interpret, since the museum displays are in Japanese). We've both read The Makioka Sisters, which takes place in Ashiya (and features the great Ashiya flood of the 1930s), and I use one of Tanizaki's essays ("In Praise of Shadows") in my Asian Philosophy course. It was quite interesting to spend an afternoon thinking about Tanizaki's life and work, and to see a replica of one of his gardens and study.

It was also quite interesting (and fun) to visit our friend's family. J especially enjoyed the antics of the 2 and 4 year old kids, and it's always interesting to us to compare childrearing practices in the U.S. and Japan.

We had two notable meals while in the region. We went with our friends to Akashi, a famous fishing port, for lunch at a sushi place. Our friend had reserved a tatami room so the kids could play on the floor. Judging from the flavor and the proximity of the fish market we walked through on the way to the restaurant, the sashimi was quite fresh. In fact, some of the future sashimi was trying to escape from buckets at the market (as pictured below--check out the ebi (shrimp)), and when one fish seller was picking up an octopus as we walked by, there was a distinct "shwump" as the suckers were pulled away from the other octupi. Now that's fresh. We declined the tako (octopus), but did try some local eel.

We were guests of our friends for dinner, which was delightful. They cooked meat, tofu, fish (bought at the market as we walked through), and vegetables over a hibachi in their apartment, and we enjoyed warabi mochii for desert. The fish was "tai," which is sea bream--an Osaka Bay delicacy noted in The Makioka Sisters.

Gion Matsuri, Grand Parade

The Gion festival parade has been an an annual event in Kyoto since the 10th century. Thirty-two giant wooden floats are dragged through the downtown as a welcome to the deities of the Yasaka Shrine (the guardian shrine of the Gion district), which are temporarily brought to the city center to protect it (originally against plagues). The multi-story hoko floats are crowded with people playing flutes, drums, and gongs, and the first float carries what the English language guide refers to as a "live" child. This made more sense when we realized that the other floats carried mannequins. The smaller yama floats depict scenes from history, literature, and mythology--many from China. My favorite was a conversation between a Chinese poet and a Zen monk.

We arrived early enough to get a good place on Kawaramachi street in the shade and watched the first several floats go by. Very. Slowly. Eventually, the baby got bored with this, so we walked up to the Oike intersection (the main viewing area) and we were able to see the big floats turn the corner. This was remarkable--the giant wheels don't turn, so big guys with what looked like giant spatulas pried up the wheels while all the pullers jerked the floats around the corner (this took 4-5 pulls). The floats shook and groaned when this happened, and it looked like people would fall off. No one did, and the music continued throughout the process.

When the J decided he had had enough of parades, we had lunch at a coffee shop and did a little shopping since we were downtown. When we emerged from the shops, the parade was over and the train home wasn't even very crowded. We were impressed with crowd and traffic control all week--hundreds of thousands of people turned out for the festivities, and we were still able to get where we needed to be (and with seats on trains and buses) without any hassle or waiting. Kyoto knows how to host a party!

Since the floats collect evil spirits, they are disassembled immediately after the parade, to be reassembled next year. The Yasaka dieties will be returned home later this month.

This is what a bored baby looks like during a very long parade. The high point for him was when another little kid (also wearing his yukata) stopped to say hello.

Gion Eve, III

After promising little J that we'd take the night off from the Gion festivities (and go to bed at a normal time for a little baby), I put him in the carrier and took him downtown anyway. I was glad I did, and I think he might have been, too. S teaches in Kobe Thursdays, so he was still commuting back to the Big K this evening, and we met up later.

When J and I got out of the Keihan station at Shijo, I thought it was thundering and instantly regretting my decision. Turns out we were hearing Taiko drumming from up the avenue. We enjoyed the big drums (J was mesmorized), and especially liked hearing a monk play shakuhachi (Japanese flute) accompanied by a giant drum. The flute and drum together sounded like a developing thunderstorm, and, in fact, it started to rain a little during the performance. Now that's Gion magic.

Further up the street, there were giant puppets (colorful horses) dancing, which J seemed to like. After a brief stop for matcha ice cream, we wandered around the Yasaka Shrine (Gion's main shrine, and the host of the festival), which featured a kabuki performance on its stage.

It's really something to wander Kyoto's streets during this festival. We're used to crowded sidewalks, but walking with thousands of people down the middle of Shijo avenue makes everything seem different and strange. You'll have to take my word for it--as is often the case when I go out alone carrying the baby, I downsized the backpack and didn't take the camera. I did get some photos and video on my cell phone, but I haven't figured out how to get those on the computer yet.

We'll definitely take the camera tomorrow--we're hoping to catch the Grand Parade and see the giant floats in action. We still can't believe we have an apartment just a few train stops away from the Gion Matsuri.

Gion Eve, II

We ventured downtown again last night to see more matsuri floats. It hardly seems possible, but there were even more people last night than the night before. The grand parade is tomorrow morning, and we're hoping to be able to see some of it, depending on how the baby feels about getting up early and dealing with crowds, heat, etc. The whole town is buzzing with festival fever--even our neighborhood grocery store is piping in recordings of the gongs, flutes, and bells that consistute the float music. Everywhere you look in the evening, you see people dressed in beautiful yukata. J wore his yukata onesie last night, and looked quite fashionable.

Here are some pictures, including one of S partaking in a festival tradition--buying a draft beer to sip while strolling. With this beer came some weird little fishy crackers. I, on the other hand, opted for a chocolate covered banana and some delicious sweet potato fries. Ah, a night at the fair.

Gion Matsuri

Summer has truly arrived in Kyoto. The rains (such as they were) have been replaced by clear, sunny, hot days. Did I mention hot?

One of the great events of summer in Kyoto is the Gion Festival. We've been looking forward to this week for a long time (indeed, we've wished we could be here for this festival for many years), and are fortunate that we have a home base just 15 minutes away by train from this famous event. For those of you familiar with Kyoto, Shijo Avenue looks a little different during the festival--most of the downtown area is closed to traffic this week.

The Gion Festival culminates Friday with the Grand Parade, which consists of 30-some giant wooden "floats," pulled by neighborhood organizations. Men and women in matching yukata (summer kimono) ride in the wagons and play music, beat drums, and chant. For three "eves" prior to the Grand Parade, the floats are parked in various downtown locations and thousands and thousands of people, many in yukata, stroll the streets and enjoy viewing the floats, listenting to the music and chanting, and eating festival food (did you know you could put an omelette on a stick?). We joined the fray last night, and took these pictures. It really was quite an experience, and we hope to go again tonight to see more floats and eat more things on sticks. Note that the baby donned his yukata, and we got many "kawaii" comments on his apparel and his cute little self.

Baby salons

If you're reading this blog primarily for pictures of shrines and temples, and aren't interested in the more mundane elements of keeping a baby alive (i.e., breastfeeding), then feel free to skip this post. We'll get back to shrines and temples tomorrow.

Before coming to Japan, I did a little research on statistics and attitudes regarding breastfeeding here. Coming from Vermont, where breastfeeding in public is at least tolerated (if not expected), we felt a lot of support for our choice to raise J this way. I was concerned, however, about spending so much time in a culture where breastfeeding is slightly less common and where, according to some web information, public breastfeeding is a little less expected. We've spent many frantic moments trying to figure out where to feed an increasingly loud, cranky baby, and it's true that I'm not as comfortable feeding J here in public as I am back home. However, we try not to let this get in the way of travel and tourism, assuming that we'll figure it out as we go. My mother made us a pretty nursing shawl, which has helped.

Another thing that has helped in a major way is the existence of baby "salons," sometimes called baby rooms or nursing rooms. Most department stores, newer tourist sites, airports, some train stations and trains, and even places like baseball stadiums, have private places to nurse babies. These range from small curtained areas (like fitting rooms with comfortable chairs) to major productions which include changing tables, cribs, juice vending machines, sinks, toys, and microwaves. One of our favorites is in the Takashimaya store in downtown Kyoto, which has, among other amenities, "Babysnack"--a snack bar with attendants who sell and heat up organic baby food.

There are more elaborate baby salons in major stores. Hankyu department store at Umeda in Osaka (a large train station we pass through in that region) has a baby room with an actual nurse who will offer nursing rooms, take away dirty diapers (!), answer questions about baby care, weigh and measure your baby, and be otherwise helpful. The baby salon at the Lotte department store in Seoul is even more elaborate. There, mothers (and fathers) can take advantage of a darkened sleeping room (with rows of cribs), as well as a nurse who will help with childcare (I had J weighed and measured at this baby room, which was helpful since he was losing weight due to the stomach bug he had while we were in Korea). My favorite part of this baby salon was the nursing room, which had soft music and relaxing lighting.

I have mixed feelings, as do many nursing mothers (from my Internet research) about baby rooms. Of course, we hope that breastfeeding can be seen as natural and good, and perhaps baby rooms marginalize people who are trying to give their babies the best possible start in life. However, nursing has never been entirely easy for me (or J), and having pleasant, comfortable, secure, and private places to do so has made life here so much better for us. And the other amenities of baby salons (from changing tables to just having a place to rest and relax in stores, train stations, etc.) are quite nice. Baby salons are also a good place to interact with other mothers and fathers, at least to exchange "kawaii-s" (cute, isn't he?) and talk about how old our babies are. I will miss baby salons when we head home.

When we first arrived, we couldn't always find baby rooms. Now, we know the "code." We recognize the kanji for "nursing room," the spoken language for "can I breastfeed here?," the little bottle icons on maps signifying a nursing room, and the fact that most large stores will have such a place in the baby clothes area if you just look around. We're also adept at seeking out baby rooms where they're not evident. Once, not finding an appropriate place to change and nurse in and around a large temple (and with an increasingly hungry and tired baby), we asked at a Koban (police box) where we could change the baby. The two police officers happily invited us in to their large bathroom, brought a chair for "miruku" (milk--nursing), and made small talk in Japanese with S about the weather and baseball while I took care of the baby. They made us feel like we were the most interesting thing that had happened there all day (which may have been true). I've also nursed the baby in the main (air conditioned and nicely appointed) inner office of a major temple, and a back room at a temple in Korea. We've found that people are very helpful and accomodating if we know what to ask.

I enjoy watching the Hanshin Tigers play major league baseball on television (about the only thing we ever watch), and S has offered to take us all to a game in nearby Nishinomiya. I said, sarcastically, "if they have a nursing room at Koshien Stadium, we can go." They do. Three of them.

Juukagetsu

We had a special Jaybird day last Sunday in celebration of J's 10 month birthday. We decided that we'd do only things he'd enjoy for the day (rather than drag him to another temple or shrine, which he tolerates but may not enjoy as much as we do). Since it was Sunday, we started the day with a "diner" breakfast out (just like home)--french toast and salad at the German bakery down the street. I'm pretty sure Germans don't eat salad with their french toast for breakfast, but I rather like the combination. J likes it when we eat at the German bakery because we visit the department store Kiddyland play area after. He enjoys sliding down the little slides and playing with the large soft blocks, but mostly he likes to scoot after the other little kids who go there to play. Kiddyland has a gym-mat floor and soft benches all around it, so it's perfect for J to practice his crawling, standing, walking (with help), and sliding. We go several times a week.

Recently at Kiddyland, we met a one-year-old American girl and her family. Both parents are academics and are in Kyoto doing research, and they live right in our apartment complex. We're enjoying getting to know this family, and we invited them to join us for the second part of our Jaybird juukagetsu (10 months) day: another trip to the Takaragaike park and its wading pool. We enjoyed a lot of splashing around and then ice cream in the weird artificial turf picnic area. J is fearless in the water--he got right down on his stomach to crawl around with the other kids, and enjoyed positioning himself over the bubbling fountains in the wading pool.

I think J enjoyed his day, and it was a good opportunity to reflect on how we can help him to enjoy his remaining time in Kyoto as much as we hope to. I realized recently that gone are the days when we can just take J with us wherever we go and expect him to sleep, zone out, and be otherwise indifferent to what we do. Now, we have to think about whether he's getting something out of what we do, as well. It's interesting to move from an ethical relationship with our son of helping him simply to grow and stay healthy to one that also respects a developing sense of identity and intentionality. Here are some pictures of J actualizing his intentions at the park.

Takaragaike Children's Park

Yesterday and today, we took the train a couple of stops north to the Takaragaike Children's Park. It's a large (for Japan) playground with equipment mostly suitable for older kids, but J enjoys a nifty wading pool with fountains and a walkway with running water. J loves water! I took this video--hopefully it won't freeze up your computer or ruin the Internet or anything.

Kiyomizudera: heights and tights (spaces)

Kiyomizudera (temple) was high on my list of places to be sure to see while in Kyoto. Since we'd both been there before, we'd put it off, opting instead for places that would be new to us. But, time is ticking away, so we're starting to be sure to make our way through the list.

For a person with phobias (such as myself), Kiyomizudera has it all, from high platforms to small, dark, airless basements.

This famous temple was founded in 798 and is known most for a spring said to have healing powers and its incredible platforms looming high above the valleys below. The largest platform projects out from the main hall and rests on 139 giant pillars. The saying here "leaping from the Kiyomizu platform" means taking a bold step. It was a bold step for me to even walk out on the crowded, slanting platform. I'm waiting for the earthquake, you know.

On that note, I had a severe case of the "what ifs" while experiencing another of Kiyomizu's claims to fame. Just to the left of the main entrance is a small subtemple with an underground walkway said to offer a womb-like rebirth experience. Though it went against my better judgment, all three of us elected to go single file down the stairs and through the curtains into a pitch black maze-like corridor. There were people in front and behind (J, in his carrier, had to try not to crowd me too much) and we really couldn't see a thing. We found our way by hanging onto a large rosary rope. At the center of the "womb" was a large, slightly illuminated stone that we touched for good luck. J really enjoyed this part--he loves touching interesting surfaces. The overall experience was supposed to help us release our attachments to material things (such as light and open spaces, I guess)--the better to reach enlightenment. I'm not sure it worked on me, though I certainly had a strong reminder about being attached. I just about didn't make it through!

The more enjoyable moment of our outing was stopping for green tea flavored shaved ice with adzuki bean paste in an open air tea shop on the temple grounds. Not enlightenment, but a different kind of nirvana.

The front gate of Kiyomizudera.

The entrance to the "womb." J needed a good drink after that experience!Yum: matcha slushy!Kyoto Tower and Kyoto Station (The Cube--to the left of the tower) from the platform.

July 7th is Tanabata, the day the stars Altair and Vega (long lost lovers, according to Chinese legend adopted by Japan) are allowed to cross the great river (the Milky Way) to be together on the seventh day of the seventh month. Kids write their wishes on paper tied to decorated bamboo trees--these can be found at temples and shrines, as well as train stations and supermarkets. Though the picture here is of trees at Kodaiji temple, we wrote our wish at Sanjusangendo temple--peace and love for everyone.

I do work, sometimes

Last week, I gave an invited lecture to a group of students and faculty at Kobe University. The third time was apparently the charm, since the presentation had been postponed twice due to swine flu in the Kansai region. Since S teaches at Kobe on Thursdays, all three of us took the Shinkansen and stayed overnight in a hotel at Shin-Kobe.

The presentation was titled "Feminst Ethics in the American Tradition" and covered pragmatist feminism (Jane Addams), care ethics, and ecofeminism. The questions were very good and I enjoyed a bit of professional interaction after spending much of my time this summer reading "Hippos Go Berserk," "Hey, Wake Up," "Peek-A-Who?" and that sort of thing. I should note that I finished writing the presentation in S's office at the last minute with a squirmy baby in one hand and the laptop in the other. I can bring home the (soy) bacon, too.

The lecture was followed by a very nice evening at an izakaya (pub) with an interesting assortment of sushi. J enjoyed lots of attention from the graduate students who accompanied us. The next day, we were joined by S's host professor for lunch on the 26th floor of our hotel (with a great view of Kobe and the harbor), a nice ride to the top of a mountain on a gondola, and a leisurely walk down through an extensive herb and rose garden. It happened to be lavendar picking day, so we were handed scissors and invited to take home 20 sprigs each, which are still gracing our kitchen table.

Kobe is an interesting city--very cosmopolitan and international, due to its extensive harbor. Much of Kobe is new, having been rebuilt after the Great Hanshin Earthquake of 1995 (which killed over 6,000 people). On the note of earthquakes, I finally got around (over 2/3 into our time here) to packing an earthquake emergency bag to put by the door. Let's hope we don't need it!



Here are some pictures of the presentation (in case any of my colleagues are Jaybird followers and wonder if I ever work anymore) and our vacation day in Kobe. I'd like to spend more time in the herb garden, but the gondola was pretty scary (especially while I was thinking of the earthquake).