Scaring, Studying and Sampling

Sometimes in life, we question what purpose it is that we actually serve. Here is my answer to that question based solely on my (almost) two weeks in Kyoto in the form of a top ten list.

1. Drinking

2. Unintentionally scaring old ladies

3. Self-learning Hiragana and Katakana

4. Developing Japanese comprehension – listening and speaking

5. Exploring this amazing city with locals

6. Being the only foreigner invited to a dinner and drinks dating group

7. Sampling a wide variety of cafes in search of Kyoto’s best coffee

8. Scouring Kyoto for free WiFi spots

9. Trying to photograph Reginald

10. Drinking

There’s a bar right near my house called Pan & Circus. I’ve become somewhat of a regular there because they have free popcorn, free food (occasionally) and drinks are relatively inexpensive and it’s a curiously kitsch, artsy kind of bar. It also serves as a guesthouse. They also have free WiFi (more on this later). Here’s a quick snap of one part of the inside.

I’ve met some interesting people there. Last night I spoke to a man named Ernest from Switzerland – a carpenter by trade – who is currently making his way across Japan on a scooter. My previous visits I met two students named Hiro who are both the same age, but in very different situations. I’m not sure whether it’s me or that I’m a foreigner that makes people curious about me. Perhaps it’s a little from column A and a little from column B.

On my way home from Pan & Circus one night, an elderly woman who lives in the same street was returning home at the same time I was. As she opened the main gate (the same one I scaled earlier that week) and turned to close it, she noticed me. At that point, she slammed the gate shut, locked it and ran towards her house. I’d understand her response better if I was wearing a hockey mask and wielding a chainsaw, but my only crime, it seems, was being a foreigner out and about late at night.

I’ve been devoting time daily to studying Hiragana and Katakana. I’m slowly being able to recognise certain characters and putting together very basic words. There’s still a lot of work and practice to go before I come close to being able to read a menu, for instance, and I haven’t even begun to think about Kanji yet (2,000 or so of those to remember) but many locals have been impressed by my knowledge akin to that of a chimp learning sign language that is rewarded with pats and bananas. I should give myself the slightest of pats on the back too I guess. Begrudgingly, no less.

On the plus side, my comprehension is improving by the day. I’m now getting used to the flow of conversation and picking up on key phrases/sentence structure and so forth. Now I just gotta get confident enough to speak more often.

Last Sunday was spent investigating a flea market at Tofukuji, a town two stops out of the centre of Kyoto. The reason for visiting the flea market was sourcing traditional Japanese doors for one of Nakamura-san’s friends that is currently building a cafe. At this flea market was all sorts of antique furniture and trinkets from bygone eras for ridiculously low prices. I’m not quite sure how it works over here just yet, but place anything that was on sale in Australia and expect to pay God dollars. At the very back of the flea market, there was a small traditional house that had built entirely from recycled traditional house parts by a group that had no qualified builders amongst them. While this may give you some cause for concern, you could actually tell how much care and love went into building this particular small house. In the larger room, I took part in a traditional tea ceremony. I don’t really know how to describe it. You sit for a long time. You are given a small red bean jelly to consume. But you don’t eat it right away. You wait. You sit some more. The tea is carefully brewed and constructed with a number of tools. Sitting. You are served tea. You partake in consuming the red bean jelly and the tea. Both are freaking delicious. It was green matcha tea for those tea enthusiasts out there.

The town is also very pretty, tree-lined streets with high stone walls. Most of the houses there were traditional. We stopped in briefly at a sake brewer’s home, where he was overwhelmed that there was an Australian in his midst and he allowed all of us to sample four different types of sake he brews. All were very nice. For some reason he spent the better part of the conversation talking about ferrets. And he asked a few things about Australia too.

Back to the pretty town and it’s pretty temple gate.

Is you green with envy right now? Haw haw haw. TEMPLEGATEFORYOURENJOYMENT.

On Tuesday of this week, I agreed to cook up a bit of an Italian feast. Now, there’s something vital I need to tell everyone who is considering coming to Japan. You’ve got little or no chance of finding aniseed anywhere. You can find the essence of, or spice, but not the actual plant itself. NOWHERE. This taunted me so. Anyhow, I served up an antipasto platter of three cold meats (salami, prosciutto and I thought it was mortadella), green olives and olive bread with extra virgin olive oil with balsamic vinegar. The main course was spaghetti carbonara, which went over a treat. In fact, everything I prepared was well-received. My nonna would be proud. If Paul can cook, you can cook too! One of the guests, Ina-chan, provided us with dessert. Haagen-daas ice-cream and nature doughnuts. These nature doughnuts are amongst some of the best tasting doughnuts I’ve ever encountered. I’m a big dude, I know my way around a doughnut, trust me on that. Salted caramel. Black sesame. Dark chocolate. Vanilla. My goodness. I must find more of these.

While at this Italian feast, Greg informed me that I had been invited to a dating event of sorts – dinner and drinks where all participants are single. I learned three things from this event – my name is hilarious to young Japanese women because Paul/Polu translates to ‘pole’, my chopstick skills are getting mad props just about everywhere I go and if I laugh out loud, this is also considered hilarious. Apparently I’m the first foreigner to go to this particular group, which meant that my token white guy value skyrocketed. I’ll thank Ishi-san next time I see him for inviting me, because it gave me a really good opportunity to work on my listening and comprehension, because there was 10 people in the room and conversations of all types were flying around.

Coffee. I drink it. I like it. So I’ve been sampling whatever cafe I’ve come across in my time here (not every single one, otherwise I’d be broke already) and a few have impressed me, even coffee chain stores. It also happens that most cafes have free wifi, which is great until I sort out exactly how I’m going to get a constant internet connection.

Reginald is a master of stealth, cunning and wit. I have not seen him since my last encounter with him, but Nakamura-san assures me that he is not to be taken lightly. He lets himself into the kitchen, apparently, and will eat any bread that is left out. He also shits on our cushions in the loungeroom if he feels like it. And he eats baby birds, bugs and anything else he can get his hands on. I’ll still try my damndest to get a photo of him, perhaps I’ll have to lure him out with some bread.

And here’s some pictures of some things. Thanks for reading!

Springsteen would have something to say about this, no doubt.

Well, that was awkward. I’d be curious to know how many families stay there.

Geez, notebook. We just met. Please try and hold all of your feels in. I just realised it said ‘might be’. Curse you, notebook.

I will never use hair again unless it is firmly obtained.