Disoriented David : Kansai

As I write this, I'm at a hostel in Hiroshima. I arrived here yesterday evening and have already spent a full day here, but I'll write about that in my next post, for this post is about the previous week, spent in Kansai.

It's been said (by the good folk at Lonely Planet, in gushing prose) that if you had to choose but one region in Japan to visit, it should be Kansai, and I'm inclined to agree. If you seek the ultra-modern and sometimes bizarre urban experience, then Osaka more than fits the bill, while Kyoto and Nara contain some of the country's finest cultural treasures, thus collectively they provide the quintessence of the Japan most travelers are seeking. I stayed in both Osaka and Kyoto, and visited Nara as a daytrip.

Due to the region's valley location, the heat and the humidity are a step up even from Tokyo. Most of the time I felt like a sweaty mess of flesh with sunglasses. Undeterred, I pounded the pavements, blitzed the buses and, er, surfed the subways in an effort to make a nice sized dent into what was on offer.

Osaka is the second largest city in Japan, so it may seem strange to say that after Tokyo it felt a bit laid back. While Osakans(?) are known in Japan for being business minded and a little rough around the edges, compared to the immensity of Tokyo's endless chaos, spread as it is over a number of distinct downtown areas, Osaka was more manageable to navigate and generally easier to digest. Without detracting from the city, there aren't so many things to note here about Osaka. I was happy to roam around the city, but this blog has already touched on the more noteworthy elements of the Japanese metropolis. One cool attraction was a museum that contained a full size representation of a typical Osaka neighbourhood from the Edo period (more specifically the 1850s-60s), with an informative audio guide.

Perhaps my favourite day in the past week was the one I spent in Nara, which is a smaller city not far from both Kyoto and Osaka. The capital of Japan before being replaced by Kyoto (which was subsequently itself replaced by Tokyo) due to religious clergy involving themselves excessively in matters of state to the emperor's chagrin (I guess some things are the same across time and distance...) Nara contains many temples, shrines and other historical and religious sites, most of which are located in a beautiful park through which tame deer roam freely, captured only by camera lens. Most notably the park is home to Tōdai-ji, a temple that is the home of the legendary Daibutsu, or 'big Buddha', the largest indoor Buddha I've seen in my 28 years by a country mile, and Kōfuku-ji (ji=temple) with its elaborate wood-carved statues and magnificent seven story pagoda (some pictures below). I spent the day contentedly exploring the extensive Park grounds, particularly the less heavily trafficked paths in between some of the busier areas. As a bonus, by chance I visited on one of the days of a 10 day festival in which, come nightfall, glasses containing candles are lit all over the park and the temples are illuminated, to beautiful effect. I felt like a child at a Japanese festival.

Kyoto, where I moved after Osaka, is chock full of historical buildings and monuments. These include some of the most famous Japanese tourist draws such as Kinkaku-ji (the 'golden pavilion') and Ginkaku-ji (the' silver pavilion'). Mentally I had pictured Kyoto as being something like Nara Park actually was, a concentrated area full of all the key places with an 'old city' kind of feel. In reality, Kyoto is much like a regular Japanese city (albeit a smaller, slower-paced city), with the sights dispersed broadly across the city, necessitating a certain amount of legwork.

While I couldn't help be struck by the beauty of the golden pavilion and the carefully manicured sand garden of the silver pavilion, Kyoto is blessed with many visitors (primarily Japanese tourists from other areas of the country) and there is a feeling of being herded through the prescribed route that somewhat diminishes the experience.

Whether I like it or not, my ability to appreciate beauty is affected by the level of solitude and space I have in which to encounter it and I suspect that the same is true of most people. Perhaps not coincidentally, my favourite places in Kyoto were the philosopher's walk and To-ji. The philosopher's walk is a 2km pathway abutting a canal from the late 19th century, and along which a professor from Kyoto University was accustomed to walking meditatively. The trail is appointed with small restaurants and boutiques and leads to many temples and shrines. To-ji posesses the tallest pagoda in the country and an incredible three dimensional mandala (representation of the cosmos) formed of statues, which one is unfortunately not permitted to photograph. These places were significantly less crowded than the golden and silver pavilions and allowed the space and quiet necessary for meaningful contemplation. Nara also had lots of empty nooks and crannies. I guess what I'm saying is that I don't think that anything can be taken in isolation. Beyond the simple spec list of what's on offer at any given place, the total enjoyment I have tends to be derived from a complex mix of factors, from the highly subjective (what was my frame of mind that day, did I have a headache etc.) through prosaic but important objective considerations such as the weather conditions and whether there were throngs of other people.

I don't really think there's a simple solution to this issue. The fact is, we live in an era where there are enough people with sufficient discretionary income to visit places that are, understandably, major draws. Pricing could be used more extensively to regulate demand and keep admissions manageable, but that raises ethical quandaries about the desirability of letting markets encroach on every facet of life (for a far more in depth treatment of this, 'What Money Can't Buy' by Michael Sandel is highly recommended). That being the case, while I don't have a strong enough non-comformist streak to spurn the places I know will be bursting at the seams, if they are universally acclaimed as unmissable (and actually by no means regret visiting the pavilions), going forward on this trip I will definitely try to keep some kind of balance between A-list attractions and less crowded options.

Anyway, I'm not a religious person, at least in the commonly accepted sense of subscribing to the belief system of any particular religion, and obviously that includes the superstitious and dogmatic elements of Buddhism. Nonetheless, the temples I've visited succeed in creating an atmosphere that makes it near impossible to hurry which is no small feat and definitely furthers my own effete, liberal Tel Aviv excuse for spirituality.

Before I leave you with some pictures: At all the temples I've visited here there have been representations of different Buddhas, such as Buddhas for good health, livelihood etc. I've decided to start a new feature 'Buddhas for backpackers', in which I invent Buddha's for matters important to the low budget traveler. The first is 'the Buddha of finding electrical outlets in public places'.

Well, that's all the news that's fit to print. I'm heading down to Nagasaki soon, after which I hope to post again.

Wishing you air conditioning with the strength of one thousand oxen.

Love David

On the river in downtown Osaka

Deer roam in Nara Park. It's pretty cool, though, as the saying goes, you can't have free roaming deer without having deer shit everywhere

Big Dave meets the big Buddha

Japanese girls wearing kimonos at the festival in Nara. It seemed to be popular among Japanese tourists in Kansai to rent traditional clothing. It would be cool if you could rent full Hasidic garb on heritage trips to Eastern Europe