Land of 8 Million Gods.

"Memories of home I sit in Kyoto Crows caw in the hill"

- Harold Wright.

Yes, I know it has been two months since returning from my vacation and I am still blogging about the events, but these pages aren't exactly in high-demand, so I trust I shall be forgiven for my lackadaisical attitude and dearth of punctuality. So then, where shall I resume? I left Tokyo and hopped on the bullet train bound for Kyoto. It had been a fun night of partying and I had unregrettably had no sleep. I sat tired in my seat on the train wishing for sleep, but unwilling to give in to the impulse with the Japanese landscape staring in at me from out the window, so I sat there, still in my chair as rice fields and mountains, and farms and cities, and small homes all passed by me. I arrived in Kyoto, anxious to see what the city would offer. Kyoto was the traditional capital of Japan, and is still considered the heart of Japan and her cultural capital. More than perhaps anywhere else in the country can you see people walking around in traditional Japanese kimonos. I searched the city, and all cities in Japan I visited, for a kimono for myself, but as I far exceed the average height of Japanese men, alas I could find nothing that would fit. Kyoto is known for her abundance of UNESCO world heritage sites and wealth of shrines and temples. Japan itself is rich in temples and shrines, those made by man, and those made by the Divine. I could not possibly have visited even half of the sites of the city in the four days I remained there, but I would let my tired feet find no rest in my effort to try.

I arrived in Kyoto and made my way to my hostel, though really a guest house. The first place I stayed, had one employee, the owner of the hostel. It was a small place with only a few rooms, but excellent hospitality and in the center of Kyoto's famed Gion district. I threw my bag down on my bed and immediately began my journeys for the day mapping out a few of the sites to see. One site I visited joined a Buddhist temple and a Shinto shrine on the same plot of land, the two great religions of Japan in a harmonious union. The Shinto shrine was famous throughout Japan as the shrine for lovers, a place to pray for success in love and relationships, and the shrine housed two stones called Lovers' Stones and if you close your eyes and successfully walk from one stone to the next, then you are to soon find fortune in love. It is said to have someone at your side to aid and guide you in the journey, a true semblance of relationships themselves, but in Cordell fashion, I was there alone with no one to guide or help, so I took off my sandals and with my feet I felt the lines in the stone pavement that led from one Lovers' Stone to the next, and safely made it there, and I know it has only been two months, so still I'll be patient for what the Shinto Gods have promised me, hoping they will remain more true to their word than the Gods of my past.

I walked out of the shrine, and out past the temple where I entered, looking back at the two great religions of a country dedicated to the sacred, and I took my thoughts and my feet out through the city, up and down the streets and alleys of Kyoto, stopping for green tea ice cream, or local pastries, wandering in and out of what shrines and temples I passed, and as the sun began to set, I found myself in a small patch of lawn and trees guarding a bridge and small pond of water where flowers stood out from the banks, the busy road above me, and I stared out above the overpass near me and watched the sun slip down over the city, a giant flame in the western sky, far far to the east. I watched the sun slowly sink in with the horizon and I walked among her subtle rays as the sky began to bleed with the colors of sunset and dusk embattled, and I found myself at Inari Shrine. It was dusk, with the coming of night and few people were there. Inari is famous for its thousands of

red tori forming covered pathways. Walking through between the dusk and the dark, alone in the silence of the shrine was a calming stroll with the spirits of great shintoist. Inari at night, it is a place for lovers. I walked the halls in the night, the sky itself serenading me with her silence, and I thought of the women whose hands I might be holding at the moment. I imagined the divine silence between shared under the lit tori, and stolen kisses in sacred hallways. I stopped off at a pond, feeling my way through the darkness down the slippery bank through the trees and bushes and watched the stillness of water at night, hearing soft sounds about me, though unable to see from whence the sounds came. I imagine it is the very feelings I felt that night, walking through the tori, that these shrines were built for, and if you can ever visit any temple in silence and solitude, than I implore you do.

Later that night I walked down into the Gion district for Kyoto cuisine and began to walk the famed cobblestone streets at night. The occassional Geisha would pass by, only she and I on the road, only lamplight shining down on the bobblestones and our faces. I saw more Geisha the next day, but unlike my first night in the dark and

quiet, crowds stood around waiting and watching, and the poor Geisha as they approached were animals parading through a zoo. I preferred at night, no pictures, no people, nor the flash of cameras. I wondered through the streets at night, behaving like my father on some wilderness trail, needing to know where every road would take me, and I found my way in to another Buddhist temple long after dark, no one else on the grounds. I sat and stared at the temples and bells and roof lines. I could have stripped and run naked, but instead strode through under the trees dripping softly above me. I made it back to the hostel and and finally lay myself down for sleep around midnight, still not having slept from the night before. This was but my first day in Kyoto, land of temples and gods, heart of Japan. There was a feeling there in Kyoto, and the people seemed to know it, seemed to respect the heritage of the city, her culture and customs, but why would I use my own words, when others will always say it better?

"The charm of Kyoto is where nature fuses well with the human-made"

-Mizuno Katsuhiko and Kayo

"Kyoto has a wonderful embracing capacity. In a way you feel small and insignificant, as if looking up into a night full of stars. And yet it feels so personal, unlike in the elaborate buildings and castles of Europe. There is a more humble feeling about Kyoto; a sense that she was built by hands, not money."

- Sugihara Iona

I visited more places in Kyoto, and switched my last two nights to another guest house, also small, this one with two employees, one a very attractive Japanese gal named Jumi. I visited many temples, walked the famed creeking boards of Nijo Castle, saw the tallest wooden pagoda in all of Japan, attended a Japanese flea market on the grounds of Buddhist temple, with monks walking in processions and burning incense through the shops and shoppers. I took a train out to Arashiyama and the temple and gardens there and walked the river and monkey hill. I so hoped to swim int he river and jump from the bridge, but the water below was only ankle deep and offered no calming pool to escape the heat and sun. I visited famous Zen gardens and sat in silence staring out at the stones manicured in to a deep simplicity. I cannot recall all the places I visited, nor the names of the many temples and shrines and gardens that I saw. Often I would visit a temple only for the gardens, more marveled at the blend of water and stone among the trees than with the great temples. I sat on lawns and watched both sky and people. I relaxed in sacred shade. I breathed, and enjoyed, and prayed the many prayers I do always pray. I think my favorites in all of Kyoto were the Inari Shrine and the Golden Pavillion. The Inari Shrine I loved for my silent walk through the red torries, the dusk and the dark, and I captured in the long halls of the torries. The Golden Pavillion, or kinkakuji temple is a temple of gold serenely standing over water with lillies and coy and ducks floating and swimming. I walked all around the large pond, with the pavillion standing magnificently blended in with the trees and

water, yet standing out as if to say in triumphant voice "Here I am. Remember me among the water and lillies . Here I am and have been." I loved the pavilion for how it stood above the water in vibrant gold surrounded by a living pond. Also, I enjoyed my beautiful new friend, Jumi. We stayed up talking each night I stayed at the guest house till 5:00 a.m., and I enjoyed a fun and fleeting crush.

Like Tokyo, Kyoto offered me precisely what I hoped for, temples and shrines, and a glance in to an old culture, a city rich in heritage and history. I'll remember, like I remember the many sacred moments and sights of my life.

Were I a building I would be a little shop in old Kyoto maybe selling rice paper or erotic prints. . . Or I'd be an ancient inn built of smoke black wood or stained gray foundation stones hauled from burned temples. I'd prefer not to be tall like Takashima-ya or sturdy like the palace or Nijo castle; I want to shake in earthquakes and be rattled by lovers.

-Harold Wright