Do you ever get that urge to stand up, get out of your house and follow a road you’ve never been down before, that urge to see something new, feel something different and do something for the first time? I don’t know about you but I get that urge quite a bit. I believe that we as humans only live once and to waste what little time we have and not appreciate the wonders that around us, not stick our nose into things, not taste the wine of life seems a waste.
It was a fine Thursday morning with blue skies and a half-n-half wind that couldn’t decide if it was still summer or turning to fall when the urge hit me. On a recent hike up a mountain overlooking Kyoto (Daimonji) I noticed that the Kamo River which flows through Kyoto split into two. I knew that I had followed one of the branches to its terminus a while back but the other had up until this point evaded my explorations. That knowledge was a splinter in my finger and so as I left my house I decided that that was my destination, or rather starting point.
The train dropped me at the junction where one river split into two. I cinched up my backpack and descended onto the dirt and cobblestone path that ran beside the water. The walk was easy and the breeze was fair. The gentle sounds of the river beside me combined with the vivid greens interspersed with the occasional splotch of red or yellow flowers soothed me and guided my mind on the complicated path it took.
The oasis had it borders and I soon reached them, making the decision to double back to my starting point via a different road in hopes to stumble upon something new and interesting. It was down a narrow shaded road lined with tall leaf covered trees running beside a small creek that I chanced upon a menagerie of children and animals centered around a well aged man sitting on a bench.
Five roaming Chihuahuas, 3 young wandering girls (aged 9 or 10), one calmly sitting cat (though apparently there were two with one off hiding somewhere) and a watchful grandfather were out enjoying the beautiful weather. It was hard not to strike up a conversation as I was mobbed by the curious dogs, each eager for an ounce of love.
The old man was talkative and bantered back and forth on subjects ranging from language to breeding habits of dogs all the while gently petting the cat sitting to his right and beaming a big smile. He was a knowledgable man so when he invited me to come to his place which was located nearby and take a look at his garden I eagerly accepted.
It really was close and after a minute or two of walking with kids and dogs in tow we arrived. I was struck by the amount of foliage extended out from the front of the duplex where he lived and the barrenness of his neighbors place. Trellises, pots, cloth bags seemed to sprout from everywhere and each were filled with something green and reaching for the sky.
He led me into his garden talking a steady stream of plant names, hints for growing and stuff I couldn’t begin to understand (as he was using technical jargon in Japanese). “Do you know yuzu?” he glanced back at me with expectant eyes. ‘Yes but…’ I tried to finish my sentence as he turned away, reached up with a pair of pruning shears and snipped off a small dark green fruit.
“Scratch the surface” he said motioning to the hard ball in my hand. I obliged, running my nail over a patch. “Now smell it.” I brought my nose close and was assailed by a sharp fresh citrus smell that I can’t quite describe. “Here is some basil” as he led me to another bush handing me a sprig to smell, and another herb and another fruit and another interesting plant. His place was a virtual Garden of Eden with its plethora of plants. He was proud and with good right to be.
“(Hidokei), do you know the (hidokei) near hear?” My browed scrunched up as I searched my head for the word. What was a (hidokei)… “What’s a (hidokei)” One of the young girls hanging around cheerily replied “It’s a clock that measures the seasons with the sun.” Ahh…. “Here, you girls take him to the sun dial. It’s close by. Have fun, enjoy, enjoy.” He said to me and the girls in dismissal.
Dutifully the three girls led me down the street on their bikes and showed me the place. I took a quick look but with the clouds and late afternoon sun it was impossible to see anything. I smiled and then bid the three farewell, chuckling to myself all the way down the street until it met up with a main avenue.
The yuzu fruit sat in my hand, its sharp smell still filled my nostrils reminding me of my recent encounter. Moments like those help to bring the rest of the experience in Japan back into back into perspective. The question of what is the real Japan continues to plague. Is it what I experience everyday at work, is it what I experienced today, what is it?
What I do know that when I take a walk in this country with a smile on my face and an open mind something interesting is bound to happen.
