Wednesday, December 24, 2008
weekend away
Tip for families traveling to Kyoto: you can hop on a local train (Sagano JR line) and in 15-20 minutes be in Arashiyama, a little river town, with a cool bridge, mountain scenery, a giant bamboo forest, and the usual assortment of shrines and temples (the big one is Tenryuji, considered the best of the top five Zen temples in Japan).
Oh and there's also a monkey park, which was a huge hit with the boys. The park is actually on top of Mt. Arashiyama, and it's well worth the hike (well maybe it's not at the very top, but we walked up steep paths and stone steps and more steep paths for a good while. The route is clearly marked with signs like this one..
There's a rest hut at the summit, where you can buy bags of cut up apple and sweet potato, and outside there are several park benches facing a great view of Kyoto and surrounding mountains.
So Friday was Arashiyama; we returned to Kyoto to sleep, basically, and on Saturday we went to Nara (30 minutes on the superfast train, reserved seats recommended!) where we fed the overly aggressive, somewhat mangy deer and visited the Great Buddha (the largest in Japan -- the one in Kamakura is the second largest). Oh and we hiked up a hill to visit a temple where there was much incense burning...
But first, deer:
That night, we returned to Kyoto and, not wanting to just go to K's house, the hostel where we were staying (nice and clean and cheap! two bunkbeds, kids on top!) where we would be stuck for the rest of the evening, we popped into this little bar on the corner with a sign saying, simply,
BEER
SAKE
It was tiny inside, about 10 barstools around a J-shaped bar, a TV, one of the old-fashioned big box ones, at one end. The bartender, an older Japanese lady, welcomed us inside with a wave and a smile and promptly filled two empty nut bowls with candy from big glass jars on the shelf. She served Terry and me big bottles of Kirin beer, which we drank out of these delicate blue etched glass tumblers, the kind of glasses I've only ever seen at my grandmother's. I asked if there was karaoke, sort of half-joking, but she said yes and motioned toward the coin-operated machine under the TV and the two wireless mics standing in a charger at the end of the bar and handed us the big book of songs. Each song was 200 yen. We needed change so she dug around in her purse and emptied it of 100 yen coins for us...
The catalog was in both Japanese and English, and before long we were able to find Aerosmith, The Beatles, the Carpenters...even Survivor's "Eye of the Tiger" (Conor's solo). Wish I had video footage of Terry and Dylan singing YMCA. "Rainbow Connection" which was our big finale, and the video that accompanied the onscreen lyrics was a loop of New York City street scenes, including a drive over the Brooklyn Bridge and a brief glimpse of our building, the St. George Tower! It was surreal.
At one point an old guy came in to eat a bowl of soup. He sat at the bar with us. Then another old guy came in for a meal. When he started smoking that was our cue to leave. So we went to the Zen Cafe next door to the hostel, ordered pizza and yakisoba and more beer for the grownups, and played Crazy Eights.
On Sunday we finally had our chance to hit the sights in Kyoto. A journey to the Fushimi Inari shrine (or really series of shrines), on Mt. Inari, just outside the city, took the first half of the day.
After lunch...
Then we toured the secondary building at Nijo-jo (Nijo Castle), where the floorboards are designed to squeak like nightingales, to signal an intruder. You have to leave your shoes at the entrance and put on slippers. And you can't take pictures, which is a shame because the walls of the various rooms of that building were covered in beautiful paintings, images of Japanese pines and other trees, peacocks and other birds, set against a golden backdrop.
Monday, December 22, 2008
creative tree trimmings
bad parenting
I lost Dylan this morning. For about 30 seconds. He was gone, vanished, nowhere to be seen on a busy avenue in Azabu-Juban. We had just gotten off the bus, and, after mopping up some Yakult that had spilled out of Conor's packed lunch, I checked the time and noted that we had to get a move on if we were to make it to gymnastics camp on time (I hate being late, especially on the first day!). I said "Come on guys, follow me!" and started walking fast, leading the way. At the corner I turned left, around a flower shop, and kept going, assuming the boys were right behind me. I went about half a dozen paces, and, turning around to make sure they were still there, as I do, I saw Conor was right behind me but not Dylan. I looked back toward the flower shop. No Dylan. I jogged back to the corner, Conor following behind, and poked my head around to the right, toward the bus stop. No Dylan. We turned and ran across the street where I then spotted a little boy, but it wasn't Dylan. I said out loud, maybe to Conor, maybe to myself, What is this, a joke? and Conor was like, "I don't know where he is!" My head was whipping around, right, left, right, left. WTF!?!? I actually envisioned a car pulling up alongside my kid, pulling him inside and driving off. A kidnapping, in Japan, I thought. Unthinkable! A few seconds later, I caught a glimpse of a bright orange jacket, with bright orange hood covering a little bowed head, a half block away. It was Dylan. I ran toward him, calling him name like a lunatic. People were staring and I thought, Yeah, that's right, I'm a crazy American, and I'm running down the street, shouting. So, what?!
So we caught up to Dylan and he was, of course, crying, tears streaming down his face. A kind gentleman who looked Southeast Asian and spoke English was with him and explained that he had walked into the convenient store...and then he said something else but I wasn't listening, I just thanked him and apologized "for the trouble" feeling vaguely idiotic watching my child blubbering away.
So, to recap, Conor and I rounded a corner while Dylan kept walking straight, crossing a street BY HIMSELF (he had the light, but still) and then wandered into a Sunkus, which is kinda like 7-Eleven, then walked out with a stranger who proceeded to try to help find me.
Rather than feeling relieved when the drama was over, I was furious! So I lectured him about not paying attention and crossing a street without holding my hand. If he had stopped to take my hand he would've noticed I wasn't with him. I told him that if at any time he suddenly finds himself alone, he should just stop and wait where he is. Had he done that, I would've found him immediately. And there were cops on that corner, and friendly looking women opening up the flower shop (they gave me a sympathetic look when I frantically gestured to them that I was missing a boy about yay high). I explained to Dylan that when he walked into the Sunkus, he was then out of sight and harder to find.
That's right, I blamed the six year old.
I know I shouldn't have booked ahead, and that when we finally found him, and saw that he was clearly distraught, I should've just hugged him and told him everything was OK.
But I didn't. Because I suck.
As we continued walking toward Nishimachi International School, where "I Can Gymnastics" is using the gym for their camp this week, Dylan kept crying, though quietly now, and said, "This is a big country and I don't want to live in a big country all by myself." I told him he was never in any real danger, that it was my fault for walking so fast and not paying attention, and he said "No mommy, it was my fault for crossing the street by myself." And with that he started sobbing again. I had my arm around him by now as I continued marching on up this stupidly steep hill toward the gym.
He seemed to have forgotten the whole thing by the time we got there. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye because as soon as he walked in, he took off his shoes and joined the group on the mat, and it's awkward to go over to your kid at that point and I was worried he'd start crying again and maybe ask to leave. So instead, I gave Conor a squeeze, told him to tell his brother that everything's OK, and left. Feeling shitty.
Tomorrow we are taking a cab.
So we caught up to Dylan and he was, of course, crying, tears streaming down his face. A kind gentleman who looked Southeast Asian and spoke English was with him and explained that he had walked into the convenient store...and then he said something else but I wasn't listening, I just thanked him and apologized "for the trouble" feeling vaguely idiotic watching my child blubbering away.
So, to recap, Conor and I rounded a corner while Dylan kept walking straight, crossing a street BY HIMSELF (he had the light, but still) and then wandered into a Sunkus, which is kinda like 7-Eleven, then walked out with a stranger who proceeded to try to help find me.
Rather than feeling relieved when the drama was over, I was furious! So I lectured him about not paying attention and crossing a street without holding my hand. If he had stopped to take my hand he would've noticed I wasn't with him. I told him that if at any time he suddenly finds himself alone, he should just stop and wait where he is. Had he done that, I would've found him immediately. And there were cops on that corner, and friendly looking women opening up the flower shop (they gave me a sympathetic look when I frantically gestured to them that I was missing a boy about yay high). I explained to Dylan that when he walked into the Sunkus, he was then out of sight and harder to find.
That's right, I blamed the six year old.
I know I shouldn't have booked ahead, and that when we finally found him, and saw that he was clearly distraught, I should've just hugged him and told him everything was OK.
But I didn't. Because I suck.
As we continued walking toward Nishimachi International School, where "I Can Gymnastics" is using the gym for their camp this week, Dylan kept crying, though quietly now, and said, "This is a big country and I don't want to live in a big country all by myself." I told him he was never in any real danger, that it was my fault for walking so fast and not paying attention, and he said "No mommy, it was my fault for crossing the street by myself." And with that he started sobbing again. I had my arm around him by now as I continued marching on up this stupidly steep hill toward the gym.
He seemed to have forgotten the whole thing by the time we got there. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye because as soon as he walked in, he took off his shoes and joined the group on the mat, and it's awkward to go over to your kid at that point and I was worried he'd start crying again and maybe ask to leave. So instead, I gave Conor a squeeze, told him to tell his brother that everything's OK, and left. Feeling shitty.
Tomorrow we are taking a cab.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
for me?
The other day I got into a cab with the kids and there was a pink rose, a real one, just sticking out of a side panel. I always thought it was the lacy white seat covers that gave Japanese taxis that little something special, but this, this just made my morning. I think Dylan pricked his finger on a thorn trying to grab it.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
pretty leaves and rugby
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Shibuya street fashion
I am officially stalking people now. When I'm out and about and see someone wearing something interesting, I move closer, pull my iphone out of my pocket and follow behind for a long as I can (before feeling completely ridiculous), tap the little camera icon and hope I get something, anything, in focus...
The other day I spotted this dude while crossing the big intersection outside Shibuya station. Lucky for me he stopped on the other side for a smoke.
Second-favorite dude outfit of that day goes to guy with the backpack spotted a couple blocks later:
Third one's a charm, in polka-dotted fleece and, um, denim leiderhosen?
Later that day: hightops with high heels
Walking the boys back from school: funky print tights and leopard Uggs
More tights. First, a pattern on Aoyama-dori
In jean shorts and tall boots, across from Tower Record, Shibuya
With green patent-leather wedges with ankle strap, Shibuya station
Smart trench and suede elf boots, corner of Meiji-dori and Aoyama-dori
The other day I spotted this dude while crossing the big intersection outside Shibuya station. Lucky for me he stopped on the other side for a smoke.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)