Daily Life

October 27, 2011

Our blogs have been filled with fantastic images, but we also have an ordinary life that goes along beside it. We live in a small apartment that has a spare bedroom. We have a nice view of the hills around Kyoto, which are just beginning to get their fall colors. Our bathroom is a bit bigger than the head on North Star, and the shower works fine. We have a kitchen/dining room, so we spend much more of our time together than we do at home. So far, so good.

The apartment building is right next to the Eizan Railway, and there is a crossing gate just below us. The gate goes "ding, ding, ding" cheerfully enough, but somewhat sharply, and monotonously about every 10-15 minutes between 5:00AM and about midnight. It's a good alarm clock, and we're pretty used to it by now. We'd rather it was a temple gong, but the rent is very reasonable.

I leave for work at about 8:00AM, and ride my bike, which is too small for me, and has two tiny wheels. I feel like a circus bear when I'm on it, but nobody has laughed out loud. Within about 15 minutes, I arrive at my office at Kyoto University. The sidewalks are mostly very wide, and are filled with bicycles going fast in both directions, as well as pedestrians. Japanese don't seem to acknowledge each other much on the city streets, but I have seen no collisions. Japanese are extremely "sharp" dressers. No slobs allowed. Even the Otaku with their wild hair dyed all colors are sharp and clean. Janitors and all other workers wear spotless uniforms. All school children are in uniform. All uniforms are pressed and spotless, and some are very stylish. Young women seem all to look stunning; each one is both very individually turned out, and, at the same time, part of a crowd, like a chorus where each member wears a uniform that is both different and the same.

Japanese move in the city like a flowing river or a school of fish. They are dense on the streets, both walking and on their bicycles, but the flow is never turbulent. It is a meditative experience to watch a crowd from an overpass, each person moving to his or her own destination, without the slightest interference with anyone else. New York City, this is not!

That gets me to work; more in the next post.

Love to all,