Memoirs of a Non-Geisha

Published in Mega Magazine 2006

When one thinks of a family holiday, it’s very rare that Japan comes to mind. The first reaction I got from many of my friends when told that I was off for a week with mother, father and little brother ( all 6 feet of him) to Nagoya was “What? Japan?” which was closely followed by “Japan! Ang mahal!” Yes, the land of the rising sun, Voltes V, Mazinger Z and Aphrodite A. Also, home to Nikon, Canon, Sony and the car you probably drive. I won’t even bother to include the slew of japayuki jokes I also got. But, Japan it was, and in all honesty, from the age of 5 when I first “saw” Japan via a stopover at the Narita airport, it was never far from my mind. So why Japan? One, an airport stopover doesn’t count as having been to Japan, and two, we were avoiding busy bustling Tokyo altogether to see an older more “traditional” side of this country. Our chosen base was the city of Nagoya (not a lightweight by any means in terms of being bustling) and from there we would hit the road to see sites such as Kyoto, Nara and Mt. Fuji. It’s a lot easier for me to go to a country and have no expectations, and that’s why in the past I chose to not really read up on my planned destination…years of traveling though have taught me that there is no worse disrespect you can pay your new host country than by knowing absolutely nothing about it. The plane ride over and the first night at our Nagoya Hotel had my head buried in a book, with my stomach more pleasantly engaged in the promise of sushi, tempura and unagi. As a side note, my gastronomic patriotism was dedicated to a revolving sushi bar ideally located at the train station right outside our hotel, restaurants displaying intricately put together plastic food arrangements that you could just at depending on your imagination. It was like taking turo turo to a different level, due to the language barrier, we would be escorted outside of a restaurant and be made to “point” at the dish that we wanted. Thankfully most of the eager waitresses knew enough English to say if the breaded whatsit was pork, beef or fish. There were some difficulties in asking for a glass of water and being served a cup of matcha ( green tea) instead…now I know how much truth there was in Sophia Coppola’s “Lost in Translation”.

Kyoto

Hiring a car, with a very bubbly chauffer named Kudo-san (San is like Sir, or Mr) we set off for what was Japan’s original capital, its fifth largest city, Kyoto. We were very fortunate that Kudo-san was so eager to practice his English that he acted as impromptu cultural guide and (as you will find out later) Hollywood trivia insider. Kyoto is considered by the Japanese to be one of the most visited parts of their country, both by foreigners and by locals. It proudly boasts of seventeen Unesco World Heritage Sites, was once the home of the Emperor of Japan for more than a 1000 years and was the center for Buddhist worship. A good note to first time travelers is that Kyoto is certainly NOT a see all in one day kind of trip (as I sadly learned) there are certain sites that need to be scheduled ahead of time. One example is the Kyoto Imperial Palace which was the residence of the Imperial Family until the capital was relocated in 1868. We were denied the privilege of viewing its famous Shishinden Imperial State Chamber (where enthronement ceremonies took place) as well as its grounds since it is only open to the public on a certain day of the week ( I believe a Thursday). My disappointment must have been obvious but was rapidly dropped when arrived at our first stop, the Ryoanji-temple, home to a 16th Century Zen rock garden or karesansui. Since it was late November we were greeted with the very brief 3 weeks of Autumn that turned almost every leaf in the surrounding gardens and woods gold, russet, amber, you name it. It was almost like opening a chest filled with precious jewels, the trees were luminous from a distance and every photo taken seemed to gleam in gold. The minute I stepped out of the car and into gates of what is to be translated as the Temple of the Peaceful Dragen I had fallen in love. As we walked towards the garden Kudo-san explained that this was “most famous garden” and indeed it been a source of puzzlement and contemplation due to its 15 rocks and raked gravel. Why puzzlement? Sitting, standing or hanging upside down from the verandah the challenge is to get into a position wherein you can see ALL 15 rocks at one time. To be completely honest I don’t know how this could make viewing this particularly garden peaceful at all given the er, this piece of information. Perhaps the garden was not made for OC’s or highly competitive visitors (or liars) but rather those who choose to surrender to the awareness that there is no perfect position, only a perfect personal view. Very much into “when in Rome, do as the Romans do” I gleefully took about a million photos and climbed back into the car. We were then taken to our next stop, passing by more temples which were considered small time compared to Kinkaku-ji or Golden Pavillion which Kudo-san exclaimed was “most famous temple” in all of Kyoto (hmmm we see a pattern here). If I had previously noted how fall had turned Kyoto into a landscape of rich colors, it must be said that upon viewing the pavillion (even from a distance and through the heads of what seemed a gazillion tourists) the landscape “paled” literally in comparison. The structure was three stories high almost completely covered in gold leaf. So yes, you can imagine just how dazzling it was seemingly floating on the water. Each story was built in a different style, the first in palace style, the second in samurai style and the top Zen Buddhist style. An interesting bit of trivia I learned was that it was a replica of the original from the 15th century. It was said that the first one was burnt to the ground by a man who entered the Buddhist priesthood, and, so overwhelmed was he of the Pavillion’s beauty that he felt his sense of aesthetics would be further perfected if he destroyed the very thing that caused him such enchantment. Obviously, a nut. Upon leaving the pavilion ( and adding another million photos to my collection) our driver approached us and said that Kyoto and its neighbour Nara (also once a capital and center for Zen Buddhism) were where many scenes of the movie Memoirs of A Geisha were shot. This, he explained was because most of the structures had retained their original look, at least on the outside. Geisha? I thought, could I possibly see one? Did they still exist in modern times? Hai, replied Kudo-san and if we were not too tired, he could drive us to the district of Gion, where the geisha, her younger protégé, a maiko and tea houses still done in the machiya (traditional) style were “most famous”. Apparently (and this is care of my travel book and not “Most famous-San” geisha was an old Kyoto word that meant MALE entertainers dressed as women. ( Priscilla Queen of the Desert asian style) in Tokyo and Osaka but later on transformed to mean women. In Kyoto, the proper term is really a Geiko. How to distinguish between a maiko and a geisha? A maiko, who may be about 16 years of age will dress in a long trailing obi, while a geisha who may be from 21 years old and above will have a highly ornate kimono. It was more difficult to spot a geiko, much easier to spot a maiko but, Kudo-san advised us “If you see them you cannot talk to them, just take photo” fair enough, I wouldn’t know what to say anyway.

Gion

If you could just block out the luxury cars and the other tourists in matching pants and jackets it was almost as if you had entered into a rather eerie past in Gion. One that symbolized decadence, mystery and masks. I was directed to walk up and down the smaller and darker streets which were the secret passageways the maikos and geikos used to make their way to an “appointment.” All these passageways led to the “most famous” main walkway, Hanamikoji. Again I put my expectations to rest and kept my hopes up, the district itself was worth the visit anyway. Looking up at the darkening sky, I made a mental note to recharge my batteries again for our next day trips to Nara and Mt. Fuji. And then I saw her, not a foot away but a mere 6 inches, I think it was the whiteness of her face that threw me, or the fact that I didn’t exactly know what I was looking at. Her hair, almost as tall as a pavilion on her head, her lips red as blood and her eyes quickly averting her gaze the minute she saw me lift my camera which had just gone on automatic shut off. And then she was gone, scurrying down the streets, past the amazed tourists and the more hardened locals who didn’t even glance her way. All of a sudden I cursed the sudden slowness of a digital camera. My parents who were a couple of feet away from me, didn’t hear my desperate screams to take a shot, by the time they saw her, it was too late, she had slipped past them and into the Kyoto night. “You very very lucky!” exclaimed Kudo-san as he ran to me (why the hell didn’t THIS Japanese guy have a camera) “That was not even maiko that was geiko!” he looked so happy I wanted to cry, even if I had seen her, I had no proof except him ( who I would probably never see again) and my family to say we had actually seen one. Well, that would be 5 liars instead of 1 wouldn’t it? On the way back to the hotel, I could hear my dad making arrangements for our next trip to Nara and possibly Mt. Fuji. Suddenly Kudo-san turns to me and says “I hear from car company that Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie just arrived in Japan to promote Mr. and Mrs. Smith”! I glanced at him with interest “Tomorrow” he continued “I call company and see if they go to Nara and maybe you see them.” So, it was still not sayonara to the chance to see another “most famous” in Japan.