March 19

I woke up around 8:30, and upon realizing this, I became worried that by the time we got to the golden temple (which opened at 9:00 and was about a half-hour away) it would be very crowded, as my guide book had indicated. Luckily though, after waiting forever for Christian to collect his belongings, we got there around 10:00 with only a few people there and a minor threat of rain that quickly dissipated. The pavilion was beautiful and I was initially shocked at how, regardless of the angle at which you viewed it, the temple and grounds didn’t lose their appeal.

Afterward, we decided to go to the imperial palace, since it was on the way to the temple of the many statues, which Christian wanted to see. On the way to the bus stop, we stopped in a shop where the attendant was interested in Christian’s jacket, and while he was looking at something, she went up behind him and moved her hands like tiny wings flapping, because he had patches (which look like wings) pinned to his jacket. She (and I) silently laughed when she saw me seeing her do that.

We got to the imperial park before the palace and walked around for a bit. Some of the cherry blossoms had bloomed, so it was rather pretty. When we applied for admission to the palace (yes, you have to apply), I was a bit worried because Christian had left his (said to be necessary for entry) passport at the hostel in his bag (who does that?!). Luckily though, our alien registration cards were enough to get us in. We had to wait for the only English tour though, (you have to book a day in advance if you want Japanese) so we went to the on-site (and surprisingly cheap given that aspect) restaurant/cafeteria.

When we finally got our tour, it was very touristy (probably more so than the ones the pushy Germans were getting at the golden pavilion) and I felt (probably as much as the tour guide) as though I was being dictated to by an elementary school instructor. It was almost painful being in a group of over 100 foreigners. When she talked about the style of pruning trees, I could hear the condescending tone dripping from her words as she said in slowed enunciation “They look like people, like you and me,” as though we were children who would understand better if she clarified the second connection in the comparison that flowed from tree to human to us.

Once freed from that experience, we walked through the prettier half of the park, where even more sakura were blooming and more people were doing things like having picnics and taking pictures. We came out at our bus stop, but since we had a while to wait, we decided to go to McDonald’s where I wanted to try the macha shake. In true American McDonald’s style, the lady did not mix the macha into the ice cream well, but she did hand it to me with two hands, so I guess it still counts as Japanese hospitality. There were oreo pieces in the shake though, so it was still noticeably American. In the end, it wasn’t anything special, but at least I know now.

We spent the evening getting lost in downtown Kyoto, looking for the Nishiki market, where it is said that all the interesting food is sold. I wasn’t very impressed, having been to the fish market as well as seen most of the food before, but it was rather pleasant. In the rest of the market, I had some amazing experiences. First, by chance, I saw one of the gothic lolita dresses in a window and decided I had to see the store it came from. After attempting to find it by climbing about six flights of stairs, we took the elevator to the second floor where we found a rather small room with two fully decked-out lolita girls and their all-out frilly dresses. It was one of the most frilly, awesome stores I have ever been in. Of course, most of the clothing was around 30000en, but it was a true “goth-loli” store and I was in heaven. The second awesome happening was on our way back through the streets in search of a particular restaurant we had seen somewhere near the beginning of the market. I had seen a kimono on a mannequin that caught my eye. Despite already having been in the store, I decided I wanted that one, and we asked the lady how much it was. She said it was 3900en, but when she looked for it on the rack, it wasn’t there. She said she could take it off the mannequin if I wanted it, but I told her the truth, that I thought it was a bit expensive for my budget. She said we could negotiate because it was the last one, so she asked how much I would pay for it, and I said 30000, and the deal was soon done. She even let me try it on first and threw in the himo that are used to tie it before the obi. I was ecstatic. We topped our trip off with very cheap kansai-style okonomiyaki (which I say is much better than Hiroshima style, because it seems to have more egg and meat). It was at a place where the tables are also grills, so we had our food hot to the last bite and put all the toppings on ourselves (which included the okonomiyaki sauce, some kind of green spice, and fish flakes that move in the heat waves coming off of the dish).

After dinner, we returned to the hostel to retrieve our bags and ask the receptionist about a thousand questions including whether there was a room empty for the night, where to do karaoke, how to get to Byoudo-in, etc. I felt pretty bad because Christian couldn’t make up his mind as to what he wanted to do, and the receptionist said she would be there until 10:00, but by 10:10, he was still standing there staring into space (and hopefully making decisions as he did). In the end, he couldn’t buy the tickets to the onsen that he finally decided he wanted at the Hostel, so we were holding her up for nothing.

That being done, we set out to find a karaoke place, but got distracted by the many people sitting on the bank in the river (yes, there was an embankment in the middle of the river), so we decided to join them for a bit. It was really enjoyable and relaxing, but I couldn’t help thinking it would be even better if I was there with one of my US friends instead. It got a bit awkward though, when Christian asked me what it reminded me of, and after hearing “my friends in the US,” he told me about this art movie it reminded him of and he got pretty emotional about it. I wouldn’t say I’m a cold-hearted, anti-emotion person, but this was a vacation and I wasn’t really interested in dealing with emotional turmoil. If anything, I wanted to get away from worries for a bit. Either way, I wasn’t going to provoke it, so I let him talk, gave him some time, and told him he wouldn’t like my opinion if I shared it and that we should do something else if sitting by the river made him feel so crappy. He brought it up one more time when we were searching for a karaoke place soon after, saying that people misunderstand him, but I told him his business was his and I wasn’t going to judge him over it because I wasn’t involved in it, so he should chill out and not worry about it. That seemed to do it for him.

It took a while (and a lot of walking) to find the karaoke place we had passed earlier that day, but when we got there, we found it was slightly cheaper than the hostel and involved free soda. At first, we couldn’t figure out the remote and for some reason, Christian got really bent out of shape about having to talk to the attendant at the desk twice, but it was no big deal, and we found we weren’t even responsible for half of the problem, which consisted of the receiver distance being really short. On top of all of this, the attendant was very happy to help. We sang from about twelve until three, when Christian fell asleep. I kept going for about another half hour before I ran out of songs. Karaoke too was kind of lame without other friends, but I did get to sing songs by the Blue Hearts (Owaranai Uta, Boku no Migite, and Linda Linda Linda to list them) so I was very happy.