I arrived in Kyoto to a delightful apartment, called the Gion House in Kyoto’s old historic district. My Shirleyfest home is over 100 years old, filled with antiques and before it was converted to a residence was a “ochaya”, or tea house where geishas entertained.
A beautiful flower arrangement from the owner overlooking my private Japanese garden greeted me.
I quickly unpacked as my friends Sandy and Harvey were in town and were bringing by champagne to kick off the trip.
We head out to dinner and are fortunate to see a geisha heading to an appointment.
The next day a walking tour of the Gion area reveals lots of information about the history and training of the geishas. Surprising they start their apprenticeship at 15 and for 6 years earn no money.
Our tour ends after the iconic pagoda of Kyoto.
I head home, go to the wine shop to stock up for friends’ visits and get ready for a birthday dinner on the 11th floor of the Kyoto Station overlooking the Kyoto tower.
After playing around at the Kyoto station with my friends, I head home to await the arrival of family and friends tomorrow. In the morning we decide to take the train to Fushimi Inari-Taisha temple with its magnificent gates and hiking trails. It is beautiful and mysterious and I love it! ￼￼
Meanwhile my sister has arrived so after the shrine, I head out to her hotel for a drink and we take a cab ride out to a restaurant I had learned of that specializes in ” burnt ramen”, Kyoto Gogyo. The ramen is not actually burnt. It’s called that because the miso or soy based broth is heated to 300 degrees C. It consistently is ranked as one of the best ramen experiences in not just Kyoto but in Japan.
Heading back to my cozy apartment that night I realized how much I will learn during this Shirleyfest. When I stepped off the plane I felt illiterate in that I could not read or write in Japanese. Then I felt mute and deaf as I couldn’t speak or understand Japanese. I’m starting to realize after this first 72 hours that instead of that being a hinderance, it is a blessing. I’m forced to use my intuitive senses and look for non verbal clues to understand my new home. One example of this– I noticed so often in these three days that young children were trudging off to school unaccompanied by an adult. I’m starting o understand that this culture does not embrace the “helicopter parenting” style you see elsewhere. I’m coining the term “slingshot parenting” to describe what I see as parents releasing their children into the world in a trusting manner. I’ll continue to observe and see if this is borne out during my stay.