Sayonara, Daily Delights

Hello friends and family! We have just one more day in Kyoto (sob!) before we head Down Under for the month of June. As you might imagine, this last week has been full of final visits to favorite places, squeezing-ins of things we've yet to do, and getting-togethers and goodbyes with new friends. 

Our feelings are ajumble about leaving this beautiful place that feels so much like home now, the little tatami-floored, paper-doored haven with our beloved coffee shop and bakery a few steps away, our neighborhood gaggle of kids and moms and dogs always ready to play at 4 pm on the nearby grassy riverside field. So many things that boggled our tiny American minds when we first arrived are no longer surprising, but they never fail to bring us joy. So, without further ado, we’d like to share with you our necessarily incomplete (and in no particular order) list of Things that Most Delight Us about Living in Japan (aka: what we will miss most): 

(Content warning: While this list was created via committee, my brutally honest family has told me that the post itself is very long and boring, so please feel free to skim and skip!)  

Japanese babies.  Japanese babies are hands down the cutest in the world. Chubby cheeks, fuzzy mohawks, deep brown wise eyes. We want to bring them all home. Just as endearing as the babies I definitely WON'T be kidnapping (ahem, in case the authorities are reading this): Groups of tiny pre-school children in colorful matching sun-hats on field trips, often transported in wheeled laundry baskets or holding onto ropes to keep everyone together. 

Neighborhood bakeries. Who knew that in Japan we’d find incredible sweet treats and crusty baguettes to rival anything in Paris, and all just steps away from our house? Kyoto is known as the bakery capital of Japan, we assume because of the pervasive affinity for French culture (lots of French restaurants, beret-wearing, and apartment buildings with names like L’Entendre and Le Beaux Jardín). Our favorite bakery – Kamogawa Hyu – sits a 3 minute walk away at the end of our one-way riverside street and is only open on Thursdays and Saturdays from 11-6.  We go religiously for cheesy, hammy "flat browns" (as we lovingly call them), chewy "chocolate pucks", bean-paste filled mochi-donuts, and half-loafs of thickly sliced Japanese style white toasting bread.

Part of the typical spread at Kamogawa Bakery

Bo about to chow a chocolate puck

Public transportation. We haven’t driven (or really even been in) a car since we left the United States of Personal Vehicles. While there've been times we wished we’d gotten that international driver’s license so we could rent a car and explore more of Japan’s hinterlands (note to anyone planning a trip to Japan: if you want to drive here, you need to get a license BEFORE leaving the US…it’s not possible once you’re here), all in all we've not missed it. We are now pros at using the incredibly timely, clean, efficient, and quiet trains, buses, and subways that get us pretty much everywhere we dream of going. No need to rush or worry about missing your scheduled departure, because the next one will come within 3 to 10 minutes. No jostling or shoving or squishing (ok, maybe some inadvertent squishing during the busiest, most crowded times) but even then, people are unfailingly polite.

Such civility, even at Rush Hour...

Posters and calm AI voices constantly remind passengers to "please keep your luggage and belongings contained" especially when “credded” (crowded), to not speak on the phone and keep it on “polite mode” so as not to disturb other passengers. We also appreciate that these often “credded” spaces are free from body product scents (tropical coconut lotions, overpowering aftershaves, fuming hair products), unless we happen to be on a train of tourists from Western countries – then the scents (and noisiness) abound. Eating on public transportation (or in public anywhere, really) is not okay, so the trains and buses are clean, the seats velvety and soft, the surfaces wiped down everyday with antibacterial and anti-viral coating.

One of our favorite be-aware-of-others-courtesy signs. Why shouldn't you veer in front of a bus on your bike? Because an old person riding in the back of the bus might get hurt as the bus swerves to miss you!

Even the littlest school children (in their adorable 1930's era uniforms) ride home on the subway without adult supervision

Tiny vehicles. Whether immaculately clean mini cement trucks or weeny kei-cars, vehicles here are generally no bigger than they need to be. And they have such spirit! We adore them all.

Public toilets. One could pen a dissertation on public toilets in Japan (it's probably been done). They are ubiquitous and unfailingly clean, with heated seats and bidets and often with so many features you need half an hour just to figure out how to use them.

Some simple toilet operation instructions...

Do you want “privacy”? Just push the button with the musical note and a soft flushing sound will muffle any of your embarrassing bodily eruptions. Do you want to rinse your bum or your lady parts? You can choose the direction, pressure, and water temperature. Instead of those weird paper seat covers that always tear or fall in so you might as well squat, they have a sanitizer dispenser that you use to wipe down the seat with toilet paper (why haven't we thought of that?).

A typical public toilet, this one in our local supermarket

Most public toilets also include extraordinary family-friendly features too: tiny seats for babies so mom can put baby down safely while she uses the pot, mini-toilets and urinals, tiny sinks reachable by little hands, even clean pull down platforms to stand on in your sock-feet if you need to change clothes. It’s almost like providing plentiful, accessible, hygienic, dignified toilets is a public health measure – what a novel idea! 

Making potties fun and welcoming again

Bowing. People bow in greeting, in farewell, in thanks, in apology, and just generally to acknowledge each others’ existence. It’s emblematic of the keen awareness of others here, as well as respect, if not for the actual person (you don’t have to personally know someone to bow to them) then for the idea that they are worthy of consideration because they exist. 

I bought a couple of t-shirts at a second-hand shop the other day and the young (early 20’s) man helping me at the counter handed me my receipt (for my $5 purchase) with two hands, bowing over the counter as he did so. Several weeks ago, I watched a cab driver bow almost 20 times to a woman in a wheelchair and her caregiver after helping them out of his cab and to the door of the doctor’s office. Security guards roaming inside shinkansens (bullet trains) bow to the passengers every time they enter and leave a car. While there is certainly more bowing in these service-oriented situations, slight bows are also common in introductions, neighborly greetings, and in other unexpected situations. When crossing in front of cars on foot or by bike, for example, drivers will often BOW from behind the wheel to indicate they see you and you are safe to cross. You in turn bow slightly over your handlebars, taking care not to veer off the road while doing so. 

“Irasshaimase!” Here in Kyoto, whenever you walk into a store or restaurant, you're greeted with this heartful welcome, often singsongily, from the team of people working there. If you stay in a store for more than a few minutes, you are sure to be welcomed again, perhaps as a subtle but unpushy reminder that staff are there to help if you should want to ask a question or need help but no one is going to pressure you or make conversation unless you initiate. Upon leaving there will likewise be multiple rounds of "Arigatou gozaimasu!" (Thank you very much!)

Our welcoming friends at Ramen Saishin (more on that below!)

Very very (often tiny) old people. You’ve all heard, correctly, that Japan has an aging population. We’re here to report that the aging population is a very active one! We’ve seen the tiniest, oldest people doing amazing things, often with spines so hunched they look like they are bent over at a permanent 90-degree angle. This doesn’t stop them from: riding motor scooters and bicycles, climbing 100 stone steps to pay a visit to a special shrine, pushing a cart of groceries down the road, or walking for miles along the river birdwatching with other tiny elderly folk. May we all aspire to be as fit and feisty as our elderly Japanese neighbors when we are in our 90th decade! 

Tatami mats. Smooth and bouncy underfoot (or under a futon for a comfy night’s sleep), easy to clean, lovely to look at. We love and will deeply miss our tatamis.

Bo's futon bed and our living room beyond

Tea.  From my morning cup of hot "hojicha" made from the roasted stems of green tea plants to the cold (or hot), unsweetened green tea available at every vending machine (on every street corner), and the nutty "sobacha" made from toasted buckwheat, tea is everywhere here.  Not being a coffee drinker (although Kyoto certainly has plenty of that to go around with its lively kissaten - coffee shop - culture) I have been spoiled by Japan's love and appreciation for all things tea.  

Iced matcha and mochi bean paste sweet at the Hiroshi Sugimoto Gallery on Naoshima

So many teas and coffees to choose from at the ubiquitous vending machines!

Sentos. Bo wrote extensively about the whole sento process so I won’t go into much detail here, but this ritual culture of public (sex segregated) bathing, soaking, saunaing, and cold dipping has been such a pleasure, especially during the cold winter months. The experience feels very luxurious in a YMCA meets hospital kind of way, but it is affordable thanks to the government caps on entrance fees that keep the costs reasonable for those who don’t have baths in their homes. While most homes today do have bathrooms, the sentos are still an important communal gathering space where elderly folks visit, friends chit chat, and families come with their children after work and school. It’s refreshing to be in a place where bodies of all ages, sizes, and skin sagginess levels are normalized. The overwhelming message is "this will be you in 20, 30, 40 years and that’s okay" – no need to plump and tuck and hide the beautiful map of your well-lived life. 

The welcoming banner hanging outside a neighborhood sento

Kyoto Botanical Garden. We’ve been lucky enough to live a 5 minute bike ride away from Kyoto’s incredible Botanical Garden, which surely must rival Kew’s in scope and variety. We bought annual passes our first week here (only ~$9) and go regularly to sit and read and wander.

A glimpse of the Rose Garden, with Mt. Hiei in the background

We love watching people of all ages stroll slowly and peer closely at whatever flowers happen to be blooming: camelias in winter, cherry blossoms and peonies in spring, and now a brilliant explosion of roses.

People's appreciation for the beauty found in transient, impermanent things seems central to the cultural aesthetic here and the garden itself is a living, dynamic work of art. The natural playgrounds – stumps, shaded wooden climbing structures – are a draw for families, adding to the exuberance and general joy of the whole place.

Ramen Saishin and Three Tails

Two of our beloved local restaurants. Our local ramen shop has the best miso ramen we’ve tried here in Japan, with savory, porky miso broth and chewy noodles, topped with seaweed and spicy sauteed scallions and garlic. The owner, a sweet guy who speaks a bit of English, knows us and greets us heartily whenever we come in. A large bowl costs a meager Y900 yen (about $6.50), and I can barely finish it all.

Three Tails is slow food, exquisitely prepared. The chef and dog-loving owner is the only one working at his tiny 3 table restaurant, and he makes the best karaage (fried chicken) in Japan, full stop. It is marinated and flavorful, perfectly crisped but not greasy and served with a bowl of rice (of course), pickles, a seasonal vegetable side, miso soup and a salad with homemade daikon dressing. All deliciously made by hand and artfully served on beautiful ceramic dishes in bamboo trays. It feels decadent but is only about Y1,300 ($10). And if you're lucky, his tiny old toy poodle Ren might come sniff you, replete in his shirt and striped overalls.

The Three Tails karaage set meal. Perfection.

Flat creams. After dinner on the town, we’ll often head to Fresco (one of the local supermarkets) for what we call "Flat Creams", if we’re in the mood for a sweet treat (not to be confused with the bakery sweet treats mentioned above which are for daytime treating, obviously). Triangles of flat vanilla ice cream are wrapped in a crepe (there’s that nod to French culture again!), the tops covered in chocolate. The crepe is chewy, the ice cream impossibly smooth, and the chocolate a bit crunchy. The portion is small (it’s basically 2D so maybe equivalent to a baby-size ice cream serving?) and the perfect end to a neighborhood night out. The only problem is that you can’t eat while walking in the street (a big no-no in Japan) so the flat cream must be consumed stealthily before it melts while scurrying in the sidewalk shadows until we reach the river path where we can eat without shame. 

Looks like a cone, but whoa! Flat! 

Torii gates and Temples. There are thousands of vermillion torii gates both big and small across the city. It’s hard to walk two blocks without encountering one. Their bright posts never fail to delight, beacons of the sacred amidst the mundane, the shrines themselves bustling spots for wish-making and prayers. 

Our neighborhood Ota Shrine

Buddhist temples are no less abundant in Kyoto. We find them more formal and austere than Shinto shrines, but no less welcoming with their breathtaking gardens, smell of incense, wooden floors worn smooth by the centuries, and invitation to slow down, be silent, and reflect.

Bo and Zadi admiring the garden at Soto Zen Genko-an temple founded in 1346 

Jizos. Jizo is the bodhisattva protector of children, travellers, and really anyone vulnerable or suffering. Their oval stone likenesses, often covered in a bright red aprons or caps, are everywhere here: tucked into tree roots or in small shrines on the sides of roads, along mountain trails, in nooks and crannies between buildings and outside of houses. Some jizos are smiling, but many have no face at all, their rounded heads gentle reminders of the fragility and unpredictability of life and the importance of looking after our fellow travelers on earth. 

Mascots. Seemingly everything (and I mean everything) has a kawaii cartoon mascot here – cities, municipal departments, museums, parking lots. Wherever you look, a tiny face encourages familiarity and friendly relationship with whatever it represents. It’s branding I suppose but instead of corporate logos, it’s sly penguins, dancing pigs, and smiling spools of thread. Kawaii is not just for kids in Japan, it’s for everyone!

Kyoto's Nishijin Textile Museum mascots Papa Spool and Baby Spool 

How can you possibly shop without the encouragement of the mint green, crab-handed, antlered 801 Misonobashi Shopping Creature?

Tanukis. These so-called "raccoon dogs" are real creatures and so fun to behold in real life. They are also the subject of cartoonish good-luck statues on nearly everyone's doorstep. A tad creepy looking and endowed with a fantastically large scrotum (which, according to legend, he apparently stretches out to make a boat for safely crossing rivers), we weren't too fond of them when we first arrived. Now these weird bear-raccoon figures really make us smile.

Mr. Tanuki-san and baby Tanuki-chan welcoming you with their big ol' scrotums 

Mt. Hiei. Kyoto is bordered on three sides by mountains, and Mt. Hiei is the tallest of them all, home to forest monks and multiple temples and monasteries for over a thousand years. We hiked to the top earlier this spring and were amazed at how much exists on that tiny pinprick of a mountaintop. We love looking up there, imagining all of the forest monks hiking through the woods, burning incense, chanting, raking garden stones.

Mt. Hiei from our neighborhood

Our Kamo river. An endless source of delight right beyond our doorstep, from the brown winter banks to the cherry blossom magic and now the fullness of summer green. Our slowly hunting herons are a constant, as is “the pound beal” (a large muskrat). Apparently, the river is also home to “Nushi”, a truly giant salamander (we’re talking 4 feet long) that we’ve sadly never seen because they are becoming endangered. If we hadn’t seen some at the aquarium, we would’ve thought them to be a creature from mythology. The river is a place for fishing, wading, strolling, lolling, running, walking, picnicking, netting (so many people with small nets!), birdwatching, badmittoning, soccer playing. It’s the beating heart of Kyoto for us and has made city living an unexpected pleasure for us small town folk. 

New friends. Meeting people has not been easy, what with the language barrier and the kids not being in school. Once the weather warmed up, however, we discovered a joyful community of families that gathers on the riverside park just north of our house nearly every afternoon. Naomi comes with her kids Meina (12) and Shuhei (7), along with their 6 month old Shiba named Ran-ku. Mari comes with her boys Wataru (7) and Susumu (10). There are many other kids and parents and families who join from time to time as well. Bo brings his soccer ball and there is generally a lively game (anyone is welcome to join) that often turns into tag (oni) or hide and seek. The moms speak a little English and are so sweet and kind. The kids figure it out with hand gestures and happy energy. 

Hibby and a few of his fellow river rats

Hib, Ran-ku, and Shuhei

And of course there are others: our English-speaking, art historian neighbor and long-time Kyoto resident Karin, always helpful with recycling tips. Sensei Billy the beekeeper and his students at the Garden of Hope. Japanese teacher Yumiko and her generous smile. Bo's soccer team buddies.  

We've barely scratched the surface of what it's like to live in this beautiful place that is both ancient and modern and where most everything remains a mystery to us.  Our time in Japan, and really in this tiny corner of Kyoto, has been such a gift. We didn't manage to share all of our our adventures here (Naoshima art islands! Hiroshima! Busan, South Korea!) and there is so much more to learn and explore. We hope to come back again one day and in the meantime, please let us know if you are planning a trip to the land of the rising sun - we'd be happy to share more of what we love.