To Kyoto

To Kyoto

A letter to the city that enhanced my study abroad experience

The author walking in Fushimi Inari. All Photos taken by A.J

Dear Kyoto,

I can’t thank you enough, but I will try.

At first, I didn’t understand why my friends kept raving about you. I didn’t understand why they constantly returned to you.

All the tourists practically swarm you like ants towards a dropped piece of food. You have such great picture spots. You are, as the Japanese like to say, “insutabae”, which means instagramable. It’s probably why every five seconds someone is snapping a picture of a shrine, the food, the stores. They shuffle their feet and rotate their bodies, hoping to capture the perfect angle.

You’re so popular because you used to be the capital of Japan, which attracts local high schools to plan field trips here. Your historical importance makes you home to some of the most famous shrines, like the Golden Pavilion and Fushimi Inari. The pictures don’t do it justice. These famous shrines and temples are usually quite big and often have other beautiful sights such as bamboo forests and gardens. You’re also popular because tourists can see the geishas. On the trains, I often see a sign advertising them. It’s a picture of a train car filled with them, and on it says Kyoto, Japan. Despite all this, I thought once was enough. I didn’t need to go to all the famous places; they were more or less the same. Slowly, you grew on me and became special to me despite this because of the three times when you, for lack of better words, “came in clutch.”

The first time I went, I wanted to collect stamps for my goshuin (I had lost my previous one and was desperate to make up for it). As a tourist city, you had just what I needed. However, somehow I ended up in a more rural area, demagyagchi. It was a 40-minute train ride from where I was supposed to be. This particular day, I was on a time and a budget crunch. So, to save money, I forced myself to explore the demgayagchi area. Luckily, I still found shrines and temples to explore.

The first shrine I went to was tucked away in a park, near a quiet neighborhood. I collected my first goushuin of the day here. I could only hear the sound of my footsteps crushing the gravel under my feet. I saw several locals and high school students, likely on a field trip, wearing their black-and-white uniforms.

I explored for about an hour, maybe two. I found two more shrines. Neither had their goushuin, but it made for cool pictures. The houses looked older; some had vines among their walls. Then, I decided to walk for an hour and a half to the area I originally intended.

The first shrine I found on my hour and half walk.

Thank you, Kyoto, for being enjoyable and safe to walk for that long.

As I got closer to the city, I occasionally walked past many people wearing kimonos or Yukatas (mostly Kimonos). Some were unable to contain their smile, while others looked haughty. There were some really popular rental spots here. It must have been authentic or good quality because it attracted local Japanese as well as foreigners.

I had found a Yukata on sale, so I bought one. Looking at these people in their kimonos, and the girls’ hair caught in a side bun with accessories in their hair, filled me with excitement for a day that would only partially come.

The noise and the crowd could be a bit much. Bits of English, French, and German flew past my ear. At the popular shopping streets (most of which had overpriced souvenirs), I was basically shuffling my feet to avoid the many other tourists in several traffic jams. At least, I could enjoy the smells of fresh bread, fried food, and the sights of pudding and ice cream swirls

I arrived at my final destination Yaska shrine, and collected my third and final goushuin for the day.

Thank you, Kyoto, for your many shrines

Anyway, that day, I left in the afternoon, fulfilled and amazed at what you had to offer and how much more I had to explore.

The second time you helped me out was when I was looking for handmade wooden chopsticks. My mother had come to visit; it was her birthday the day before, and I had promised her chopsticks. Between my sister and me, we threw her old wooden ones away from Okinawa. I say it was my sister. Sorry, she can’t defend herself.

I was determined to make it her birthday gift, and lo and behold, you had the perfect place for us. Once we arrived in Kyoto, we had taken an hour on the bus. You revealed your charm again on the bus. Every other stop, the bus announced, “for so and shrine to get off here.” “You could fill up an entire goushuin book with just this bus” as my mother said. We arrived at the quaint chopsticks shops with wooden chopsticks proudly on display, lined up over the wall. It was evident that the owner used a variety of wood for these designs because of the evidently different colors. I saw some with a green tint, and some that looked nearly black. They were just what they were looking for. Expensive, but I wouldn’t say it was a tourist trap. The price was worth it. Perhaps, I should call it tourist candy.

The old sweet man made us try using each pair of chopsticks. My mother wasn’t very good at it. The man joked that I should teach my mom. My mother found these purple chopsticks made out of Purple Heart wood and bought them for me. For my two close friends and mother, I bought ones that came from trees in Kyoto. I can’t remember the names. What mattered to me was that I was able to buy something made by a local. It felt more authentic, and I appreciated how much work the man must have put into them

Thank you, Kyoto, for having such special handmade souvenirs like these.

Lastly, you served as a great backup plan. As I said, I had bought a Yukata and wanted to wear it again. Originally, I was supposed to wear it with my friend, who hadn’t gotten a chance to wear hers yet. (She had to get it custom-made). Long story short, it didn’t work out, which was quite upsetting. “I could have sent this home with my mom, but you were the only reason I waited. I would have worn it my third time before she came and sent it home with my mom. What am I supposed to do?” I thought.

I was determined to find a way to wear my Yukata before it got too cold for me. (Yukata’s are viewed as more casual and thus meant for warmer weather) The problem was, I needed a place to go. It’s nice to wear these at festivals. The first time I wore it was to a fireworks festival. However, there weren’t any more festivals I could go to. The first place I thought of was you. After more research, I decided to go to the Golden Pavilion and Bamboo forest. Despite the annoyance of having to take really small steps, wearing it filled me with such excitement. I felt like a child who just came out of the store with all the candy they wanted, but I also felt the same peace I get when entering a library. Somehow, the yukata was like noise-muffling headphones, especially in the very noisy areas.

Thank you again, Kyoto, for having such beautiful spots to wear my Yukata.

The author walking in her yukata

The author spinning in her yukata.

Oh, and thank you, Kyoto, for having nice people.

One couple took my picture for me. One fixed my bow for me. It seemed that whenever I got a chance to sit down, I was a bit too excited and just plopped down, and would ruin my already fragile bow. It was a quick fix, thankfully (though by the time I got home, it needed more than that.) Thankfully, I was done taking pictures, so I clutched the ribbon as I walked home.

Despite the bustling tourists that I’m sure may annoy you at times, I hope you know that you’ve granted me so many wishes. There’s always something new to experience with you. Each time I go, I gain a new layer of respect. I learn more about the real you. I understand your popularity. You have what tourists want. Yes, you have traps, but you also have a way to experience the real Japan and its culture. Beyond the crowds, I’m enjoying a really creamy pudding, using hand-made chopsticks, brushing my hand across the wood, and shuffling around the city in my white and purple yukata with a bright purple bow. It’s what’s bringing tourists back: the second identity, the real one. Kyoto, I was able to accomplish so many new things just by going to you. You were the answer to many of my problems, many of my desires. You continue to amaze me. I know it may be a while before I see you again, but I look forward to it whenever that is.

Thank you, Kyoto.