It's not sayonara, it's ja mata

This week is O-bon in Japan, the time of year when ancestors come back from the grave and people return to their hometowns to reconnect. It's fitting, then, that we return home to our town in Vermont this week. We don't leave for another couple of days, but we have to return our trusty little mobile internet device tomorrow, so it's over and out for the Jaybird blog, at least the "in Japan" part of it.

It's hard to believe that our Kyoto days are coming to an end. When S was considering applying for the grant two summers ago and asked where in the world I most wanted to live for a short while, I said "Kyoto, I'd love to live in Kyoto." I have no regrets about spending the past few months in this remarkable city, and I want to come back even more than ever. I've just finished reading (the abridged) Tale of Genji, in which the main character spends most of his time with "wet sleeves" (because of all his weeping). We feel a little like that.

It wasn't always easy (on any of us) to balance wanting to do everything and see everything (not to mention to do work and research) with our evolving relationship as a family, but Japan has been a wonderful place to watch our Jaybird grow and develop. His presence has opened doors for us (adults aren't even allowed at our favorite park without children) and has given us a glimpse into Japanese culture that we wouldn't otherwise have seen. Our little ambassador has started conversations (and forced us to use Japanese) with people we would never have met, and has made us think about cultural difference in new ways. Being a parent of a baby in another culture has certainly stretched my comfort level and made me more confident of my meager mothering skills. And, of course, his presence in our lives has continued to delight and surprise us whether at a temple or museum, or at the depato play area or at home in the apartment.

We've made friends here, both Japanese and expat, and hope to continue to cultivate those relationships. There's a good chance we'll be back in Kyoto again in the not-so-distant future, which makes leaving now a little easier. Also making it easier, we're excited to see our friends and family back home, and to reintroduce J to his Vermont home and community. I can't wait to see him develop his own friendships over time as he grows up in our small town.

So, we're fortunate that our permanent home is a wonderful place and our temporary home here in Japan has been more fun, rewarding, and educational than we imagined. Did I say how fortunate we are? I can't, by the way, think of better traveling companions than J and his dad.

In addition to the people, there are many things I'll miss about living in Kyoto: the baby-crazy culture, food, trains and buses, hot springs, walking everywhere, temples and shrines, festivals, did I say food?, ancient culture, and sensitivity to the changing seasons. We are very much looking forward to reconnecting with our American roots, however; especially things like literacy, humane summer weather in Vermont, the easy availability of local and organic food, wearing a nice t-shirt and being slightly overdressed (rather than my best outfit and being slightly underdressed!), a relaxed village lifestyle, our quiet neighborhood, our horse, our day jobs, and, of course, the people. J and I walked to the Shimogamo Shrine once more this morning to ring the big bell and wish for safe travels and peace for families here, at home, and everywhere.

If you're still reading this blog after all this time: thanks. It has been a pleasure to write, especially knowing that friends and family are out there keeping up with J's adventures. I don't know how Jaybird in Japan will evolve--I'll likely continue to add some Japan posts, since we still have a lot of unshared pictures and experiences. And I may simply use it as a convenient place to share thoughts about culture and parenting and pictures of little J as he continues to grow and change. In any case, I'll at least plan to write about what I'm sure will be an adventure: going home.

It's not goodbye, Kyoto, it's see you later.

Busy bees

J has a little book called "Busy Bee," which is the story of a not-so-Buddhist bee who is too busy making honey for tomorrow to enjoy time with his friends today ("I'm so busy, said Busy Bee." He'll never reach enlightenment this way!). We've been busy bees lately, sorting and packing and otherwise getting ready to re-patriotize ourselves, while trying to see people and places here before departing. So, no time for blogging. "I'm so busy," said busy blogger!


Anyway, here are some recent pictures. Unfortunately, I don't have a picture of the lovely and elaborate dinner we had last night in a Gion restaurant, courtsey of one of S's host professors and his wife. It was truly delicious and beautiful--a meal to remember.




Below: Chionin temple in Kyoto--the large gate (Roshomon, anyone?), a garden, and the main hall. There was a small funeral the day we visited, so we got to hear the chanting of the Amida Buddha's name (said to help on to live in the Pure Land).



The garden of Sanjusangendo temple in Kyoto. Though we were unable to take photographs, this temple features 1000 adult-sized figures of Kannon, the bodhisattva of mercy. My first impression upon walking into what is purported to be the world's longest wooden building was "my goodness, the Kannon are on bleachers!" The gold-plated statues were indeed lined up on steps alongside a long corridor, diagonally so that the viewer could see all of them at once (or so that the statues could have a good view of the corridor, I suppose). It looked like they were waiting for the basketball game to begin.

Shimogama Shrine (in our neighborhood--J and I walk there frequently).

A Jizo shrine in our apartment complex. These aproned figures are said to protect and commemorate children and aborted or miscarried babies, as well as travelers. It's very common to see these in nooks and crannies in neighborhoods and by the roadside.

A morning at the hair make

We've been busy this week--a fun visit from Kate-o, some last-minute shopping, and now packing (packing?! already?!). Though I could have waited to get my hair cut after returning to the States, I decided to go ahead and have one more Japanese haircut, just because it's so interesting.

I've been to two "hair makes" in our neighborhood. One offers a more traditional salon-type experience, with dark lighting and fancy music. There, I had my hair cut by a friendly hip-hop sort of young fellow who had tons of tattoos and chains. He had spent some time in New Zealand, so had some English vocabulary. Between us, we were able to determine that I just wanted a trim. Today, I visited a cheaper shop and chose a shampoo and trim from the "menu." It was more of an assembly line place, with different people offering services (shampoo, cut, perm, color, etc.). There were things hanging from the ceiling that looked like they belonged in a dentist's office, but (thank goodness), they seemed to be blow dryers. I heard not a word of English there, and managed to communicate, again, that I just wanted a trim. The man who cut my hair asked a lot of questions (most of which I couldn't hear because it was a fairly noisy shop) and waved his hands around my head a lot, but it all turned out all right, and we were both pleased with the result. I wish I would have taken my camera to get a picture of the blond in the sea of black hair on the floor after it was swept to the corner (by yet another person).

Now, I like the hometown shop where our family gets haircuts. You get a good haircut there, for a good price, and you also get to catch up on the village news (which I'm really looking forward to). Japanese haircuts also have some nice elements. For example, you get your hair washed before AND after you have it cut, and there's a period of more cutting after it's blown dry. At the first place I went, I was first consulted (with some magazines) about what I wanted done, then my hair was washed and conditioned, cut, blown dry, cut again, and then washed and conditioned again. Today, my haircut ended with a brief head and neck massage, which was very enjoyable.

The only thing missing was the village gossip, though for all I know that's what all those things I couldn't understand were about.

On my way from the shop to the bike, I was given a fan from the "Happiness Realization Party," getting ready , I suppose, for the coming special election. Sounds nice.

Kinkakuji

We're making our way through the "must-sees" of Kyoto, now that we're starting to pack for our return to the States. We've been to the Temple of the Golden Pavilion before, but it's an interesting place to visit in different seasons (we've seen it before when the maple leaves were brilliant red). This temple is interesting for rather unique reasons. It's not particularly old or historic; in fact, the main golden hall was burned to the ground by a (probably deranged) monk in the 1950's. If this interests you, a heavily fictionalized version can be found in Mishima's novel "The Temple of the Golden Pavilion"--a nifty exploration of zen existentialism. The temple is also quite beautiful and is considered to be one of the main symbols of Japan, with the phoenix rising from the ashes on its roof.

Arashiyama

We spent last Thursday in the Western "suburbs" of Arashiyama, a district known as a summer retreat from the heat of downtown Kyoto. On our day in the 'burbs, we rode the Sagano Romantic Train, a narrow guage open-air train which twists through the canyons of the Hozugawa. I think "Romantic" refers to the fact that it's from an earlier era. We enjoyed great views of the mountains and whitewater of the Hozu, and saw several boats shooting the rapids. Notably, the boats were wooden (though we did see some rafts), navigated by men with long poles, and no one was wearing a life jacket. This seemed ill advised--the rapids really were quite formidable!

After our train ride, we strolled in the garden of Tenryuji Temple. The baby found this to be a peaceful place for a nap, at which time the garden became even more peaceful for the adults. This garden goes all the way back to the 1300s, and features a pond with a rock arrangement evoking a mountainous island, and utilizes the Arashiyama mountains as a backdrop. We also like it because it has pleasant trails leading around the perimeter of a bamboo forest with views all the way to Hieizan and the Eastern mountains.

In town, we stopped at a restaurant that specializes in tofu for dinner. J got to eat tofu and kabocha (pumpkin) for supper, which he seemed to like. It's a little complicated eating traditional Japanese food while holding a squirmy baby (as you can imagine from the photo below), but it was worth the effort.

We concluded our day in Arashiyama by watching cormorant fishing, a summer tradition in the many rivers around Kyoto. Men in flat wooden boats use trained cormorants (on leashes!) to catch fish. The cormorants have rings around their necks to prevent swallowing the fish (which doesn't sound very humane to me), though they apparently get to share some of it, which explains their great enthusiasm for diving for fish. The most interesting part of this was the fact that the lead cormorant handlers wore grass skirts and stood next to giant torches. This seems almost as dangerous as shooting the Hozu rapids in a wooden boat!

True to its history as a place to beat the heat, Arashiyama was quite comfortable. While the city has been pretty hot these last few weeks, the surrounding mountains have provided refreshing breezes and shady hikes.

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.