Kiyomizu-dera ni itta

Today, as with most Saturdays, I settled down with every intention of doing homework after my obligatory 2 hours of anime. Every intention, I say, but within an hour I was remembering a facebook post about an event at Kiyomizu-shrine, which, may I add, I had never been to see nor did I have the faintest clue where it was actually located. At any rate, I am not good with planning anyway, and so within fifteen minutes I had changed my clothes and was wheeling my bike through the front gate, my lovely okaasan prophetically reminding me not to forget my kasa (umbrella). Well, I did have a map, and of course the help of a week of biking through the streets, so I did not (NOT) get lost. I did end up illegally biking through a rather busy outdoor mall, though I saw the posted signs quickly enough that it was not a problem (may I note, most Japanese people did not seem overtly bothered by their illegal bicycling habits, and they weaved around me quite cheerfully). If you want to know what it's like to bicycle through many of Japan's busier streets, simply imagine biking through the busiest mall you have ever visited - very quickly, you learn to weave, stop, and calculate the smallest possible space into which you can squeeze yourself at a reasonable speed...For those who are perhaps planning to ride these streets in the future, I might also caution that Saturday's around 5:30 pm seem so far to be quite dangerous. I can only imagine that the weekends are one of the few times the people here take their cars for a spin, and they are all in a rush to get home for dinner, but there are a large number of small side streets and no concievable reason for either car or bicyclist to stop as they cross them...(for those unable to read between the lines, there are some underreported reported and rather dangerous collisions in Japan).
Anyway, on to happier topics. I arrived without incident, parked in front of someone's house while praying my bike would not get impounded (since there was only one other bike there, I thought people were unlikely to actually call for a tow) and followed the crowds. What I found was this:

Perhaps other people would have also gone back to check with the policeman that they had gone the right direction, for I was surely thinking I had stumbled into a cemetary...or perhaps that was only me. To briefly step to another aside, for which I appologize to those who would like to read something with of a more linear inclination, the most interesting thing I have so far realized about most of the people I interact with (non-English speakers) is that I must have a very blank expression - and by blank I mean ditzy. People tend to explain perfectly rational things to me (policeman: "Yes, Kiyomizu-dera is this way. It takes about 10 minutes, but it's uphill.") to which I nod and say think you (in terrible Japanese, I am sure) and so he feels the need to search for the English word for "uphill" among others...not that I mind how very helpful everyone is, but I feel bad for the amount of effort they go to to explain to me very simple concepts, either in Japanese or English. To questions where my normal response would be yes, I say yes, and people feel the need to explain to me why yes was my answer...other times, they ask me very strange questions (someone asked me the other day what would happen in my archery class if someone intentionally shot a person) and I stare at them with what is meant to be a puzzled expression, for the answer seems somewhat obvious - so they explain their question again. Oh well, that is a useless rant, and not at all meant to express any ill feeling on my part. On the contrary, I remain quite amused.
To get back to the point, this was the entrace to the cemetary, just to prove that I did not begin randomly walking through a large number of headstones.

I think the scenery requires a bit of explanation. It was a pleasantly stuffy day, for the most part because the sun remained hidden behind a smokey veil of clouds, no doubt thanks to the coming typhoon. I had stumbled down a quiet road, and the only sound was the steady echo of my footsteps and the gentle whisper of the wind. Sometimes, I would hear some voice in the distance, but for the first time since I came to Japan, there was no living being within sight. As I pondered the calming nature of my solitude, a deep rumble began in the distance; thunder. The sound seemed to roll across the mountainside, and I imagined that I could feel like a physical thing. Perhaps I could. Sometimes I feel thunder is one of the most singularly striking sounds in all of nature. Anyway, as I earlier said, my okaasan prophetically reminded me to bring my umbrella, and since thunder here surely portends torrential rains, I was now glad that I still clutched the thing in my left hand.

And so I meandered onward, until finally I reached a cluster of very otera (temple) looking buildings. Following the steady stream of Japanese people, I reached a sign that stated, "300 yen, Adult" and decided to pay (what the heck, it's only 3 bucks, maybe it's worthwhile). Note again that I did not actually know where I was going. This seemed like as good a bet as any, particularly since everyone seemed to be in quite a hurry. Well, as it is I walked into a large wooden building and barely five minutes later was shocked by the reverberating sound of some sort of woodwind (I do not profess to know much about the ceremonial instruments here, or anywhere, for that matter). Shortly, the sound of wood being clapped together followed, and I saw this:

which might have been creepy, especially after they started chanting, if there had not been such an air of expectation and awe among the gathered throng.

There was a very spiritual feeling to everything. That may seem like both an odd and vague comment, but allow me to explain: around the time this all began, a refreshingly cool breeze picked up in the mountains, and the sky opened up and let loose. Within maybe two minutes, it was pouring so hard that those without umbrellas were surely soaked to through. Then, these gorgeiously apparelled women then came to pass something out to those who came to see them -sometimes white or red paper, by the looks of things. I will have to research the specifics of the ceremony to determine what this was all about (did I mention that I left 15 minutes after realizing it was happening today?).

Then, finally, what we had all been waiting for!!! (OK, so maybe just what I was waiting for). The dragon!! This was the best picture I could capture, since there was a great deal of excitement over the beast, and I had stepped away to escape the crowds earlier. Once the object of my excitement had moved on to excite other people (many perhaps younger than me...) I went to stand at the edge of the temple and watch the rain fall. I will go on yet another passionate rant for a moment here. There is something lovely about the rain, no matter its form or the time or place. When one is happy, to see the rain fall is to see the dramatic transformation from a static world to one where all things seem to suddenly come alive. The leaves in the trees bend and rustle, the gray asphalt fills with puddles that ripple and dance while reflecting the gray sky, and it seems as if, for a moment, one can touch the sky itself. When one is angry, it seems that the gentle hiss of the rain is a dear friend, comforting and cooling, both whispering condolences and raging against us at the same time. When one has made a grave mistake, it seems the rain can wash it away, and I might not be alone in saying that I only feel that I, or perhaps my soul, is clean when the rain is pouring down over me - as if by letting the world rage against me for a moment, I have fundamentally accepted some part of myself that I would hide away from as surely as the outside elemnts. And of course, when one is sad, it seems that you have a companion in the world itself. Yes, rain is wonderful.

Beautiful.

Soothing.

This picture is unrelated to the temple itself, but was one I stopped to take on the way home, after I had ridden my bike nearly the entire 45 minutes return trip, and was aboslutely drenched - so of course, the rain had stopped. At any rate, there were a few more things to note, but I believe they will not fit in this post, as my computer has already begun to fail with this many pictures. I shall add two more,

and there I will stop lest horrible things befall my post. At any rate, today became a day of many firsts - my first time going to a temple alone, my first time seeing such a busy mall, my first ogura (red bean paste) crepe, and my first time wearing pants without underwear (though briefly, and only because I forgot them when I went to shower).