Yesterday was the second-to-last day of orientation. I didn't have anything to do until the middle of the afternoon, so I went in search of that ramen shop again. Well, not only did I not find it, I overshot the general area entirely and wound up in the next town (Osaka goes many towns inside a city, and many cities to make up Osaka). This time, however, I did find food I could eat. I went into a normal dining restaurant, by myself, and managed to make it all the way through food and the check without any problems. Go me!
The problem came after this (what, you didn't think I was in the clear, did you?). I tried to get back by a different and shorter route, completely ignoring whatever Murphy might have to say on the subject of shortcuts. As it so happens, I got abysmally lost and just barely managed to catch myself in time to not overshoot Hirakata entirely. But I didn't have time to rest when I got back to the Seminar House. I barely had time to change into my suit (where is that belt, I still haven't found it), which was composed in all black with long sleeves, and then walked for twenty minutes in 80+ heat. Ow.
From 3:00-4:45 there were opening speeches from distinguished members and guests of the university, one of which was entirely in Japanese. And I understood it! I now know that if I ever support the Tokyo Giants and not the Hanshin Tigers, I can expect to be murdered. After the speeches was a buffet, but maybe it would be more accurate to call it an all-you-can-eat five-course meal. Which it was. There were salads, sandwiches, soups, udon, sushi, cooked meats, sweets, ice cream, wraps, and tiny, tiny little bowels of soft-serve with flavor-corresponding jelly on top. I had a green tea flavored one, but in retrospect that was a very bad idea. It could have been a little bowl of wasabi, and I never would have known until it was too late.
After I finished, I tried to wind down by going through the gardens on campus. What happened next I will never forget as long as I live. I found a little tiny building to sit in, under the shade, away from everything else, and sat and looked at the garden and fountain pond. And it was enough. I don't know any other way to describe it. It was enough. The peace I felt sitting there was absolute. That must be what solders are always looking for when they come back from war. It must be what Buddhists look for. Not for a place where there is something special, just a place where it is enough to be there. It's hard to convey. If I could sit there and just look at the garden for the rest of my life, I would neither need nor want for anything else. It wasn't particularly gorgeous or anything, but it was enough.
Sadly, the spell lifted as soon as I left, and I doubt it will ever work again, but I will keep going to that spot, nevertheless.
Today, I went to a small outlying town in Kyoto called Uji with one other American and two Japanese girls who were assigned as our guides. And they couldn't speak a world of english. It was so cool to talk to them, making mistakes all the time, and trying to keep up with everything they were saying in normal Japanese. Needless to say, I failed miserably, but it was still a lot of fun.
We took a train (two, actually) and I got to learn how the train system works. I also learned where that damned station close to the ramen shop is, and next time I will succeed in getting there. Uji is the place where the events from Genjimonogatari (or The Tale of Genji) take place. It is also supposedly where the whole thing was written and illustrated, and there was a statue of the author next to the city's famous bridge, supposedly over 1,000 years old and one of the oldest in Japan (although there were undoubtedly renovations done along the way) We visited the otera (temple) of the town, which is a World Heritage site. As we walked through the museum along side it, I noticed that the Shinto bell that I wear on my backpack didn't ring except when in the room with a Nationally Treasured bell. That. Was. Amazing.
We ate dinner before coming back. One of the girls who was our guide was actually from that town, and she recommended a sushi restaurant. I shall now describe said shop in detail so that other Japan lovers can shake their fists at me in envy. The food was all located on a conveyor belt that wound by the seating area. As whatever you wanted passed, you simply took it off of the conveyor and start eating. The price of each dish was dependent on the color of the plates, which were color-coded to show what was expensive and what was cheap. The kind i tried were: one with salmon, one that was egg stuffed with rice, one with sardine that practically was the entire fish sitting on rice, one with a fish I couldn't identify but garnished with ginger, onion and green onion, and one that looked like it had just been caught and fried minutes ago, which was the most delicious. The other guy got one with squid, but it was also filled with natto, and you're not allowed to put a plate back on the conveyor. To his credit, he did try it, and then he did swallow it. I expect he'll get a standing ovation whenever he tells that story at dinner parties. One girl kept getting rolls with filled tiny orange balls which looked liked caviar, but were actually little shellfish. And the other started with one filled with corn (?). As the night drew in dessert started being sent down, and I tried a cheese cake that lived up to its name (it was actually the consistency of a cake and not sticky). As expected, the focal taste was sweetness.
The guide who lived in Uji left us after that, and the other girl had to ride the train farther than us, so me and the other American got out and started walking back to the Seminar Houses. As I paused to consult our map, an elderly lady on a bike stopped and asked where we were trying to go, and then escorted us through the winding suburbs. Along the way she stopped and showed us the local jinja (shrine), and we went inside and did the rituals for prayer like she showed us. She didn't speak any engligh, but was very patient and kind to us, to the extent that she even passed by her own house to continue walking with us. She said that our Japanese was very good and was delightful to talk to. Arigatou, Keiko-san.
Observations
Forklifts and other heavy machinery don't make loud beeping noises whenever they move around, instead they play carnival music (I kid you not).
Pigeons are called Ha-to. Whether it's because they are endearing or taste better that way remains to be seen...
I saw some people deep asleep on the train. But when we got to their stop, they woke right up and got off!