Hospitality must be the most underrated cultural shock in existence. From looking people in the eyes when talking to them, to not staring at people when talking to them (i.e. direct opposites) (and for the record, the former is Sweden, the latter is Japan), to taking your shoes off by the entrance, to the subtle intricacies of properly inviting somebody to — or disinviting somebody from — your house, or a specific event.

New Years I was originally supposed to spend by myself — or with friends, supposedly — because my girlfriends’ family said I could absolutely not attend the new years events they were planning because I wasn’t “family.” I went from “well, sucks, I would’ve liked to hang with my girlfriend on New Years,” to “ah well, I’m sure it’s an important event to the Japanese,” and then to “what the hell…!”, in chronological order.

The reason I went from “ah well” to “what the hell” was that my neighbor Kim, who has gotten a girlfriend fairly recently, was invited to her family’s New Years celebration — so with me and my girlfriend closing in on two years (or one year, if you don’t count the time before I came to Japan), what is so horribly bad about me attending? My girlfriend informed me it was a matter of to what degree the family values Japanese traditions, and I suppose that makes sense. And besides, she eventually compromised things so that she can stay here overnight on the 31st so we will be together on New Years in the end — fairy-tale ending all around.

Merry Christmas everyone, by the way. It’s actually snowing in Kyoto. Not the stick-to-the-ground kind of snow, but more the wimpy “it’s sorta white but it could just as well be rain” kind you’d expect in a place this far south. On New Years Eve (the 24th, that is), I and my girlfriend went to Kim’s apartment and hung out with 5 other people, ate Swedish christmas food (hurray for IKEA), and watched Kalle Ankas julafton (hurray for BitTorrents) on my neighbor’s computer (hurray for … Windows?), and drank glögg (hurray for IKEA).

The 25th, me and my girlfriend took it slow and went around a shopping mall, and then in the evening we went to an awesome Yakiniku restaraunt (basically a BBQ-style restaurant) near where she lives. I came home just earlier now, and woke Kim up to hear the horrific news…

Originally he was meant to go to his girlfriend’s place and stay there several nights over into the new year, with the one compromise that he sleep “with the men” in some separate place. Yesterday evening, around 11 pm, they changed their mind about this arrangement. They decided that nah, he can’t sleep there after all, because “the brother will be out and about a lot, and Kim won’t know how to operate the gas/electricity system.”

Translation: “bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit, bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit bullshit/bullshit bullshit.” So Kim’s to go there today and return back home today. Gee, that is absolutely horrendous. And so inconceivably incorrect, courtesy-wise. The reason, we think, is actually that his girlfriend has been coming to Kyoto a little too often and been staying a little too late lately, so her mother has gotten grumpy. Mothers, I tell you, scary people.

I can’t speak for others living in Japan with Japanese girl- or boyfriends, but I know that for me, the biggest shock coming here has been and most likely will continue to be, the codes of conduct regarding hospitality. The abysmal differences in how to behave properly, and how to be hospitable.

I went to see a Noh play for the first time and was really looking forward to it, meanwhile thinking I probably wouldn’t get much out of it. If you haven’t heard of it ever, you might have seen it — Japanese men dressed up and playing drums and flutes and sing-speaking Japanese at an ultra-slow level. It’s old — it has been practiced since the 14th century; that old — and old things tend to be hard to appreciate without proper background or (historial or otherwise) interest in the art form or the culture in question.

Regardless, I found myself not understanding a word they were saying — unsurprisingly; I have a hard time understanding non-conversational-but-regular Japanese, and this was nothing of the kind, spoken at a very un-regular pace. Even if I didn’t understand the words, I might appreciate the actual scenery or the performance for what it is, beyond words and meaning, but this was not the case either.

In fact, I found it difficult not to laugh. Watching this man dressed in clothes that made him look quite odd, with a woman’s mask over his head, only made me think of the fact that yes, back in the days, women were not allowed on stage, and I didn’t find it particularly admirable that they preserved this tradition (although it wouldn’t be Noh if they didn’t, and I’ll be the first to admit that).

I have no pictures, because I didn’t have a chance to borrow a camera. And besides, noone else took pictures so I suppose it was forbidden. It was pretty, but it wasn’t special.

Then there was the drum playing man who kept saying the Swedish word “Ja!” (”yes”) with a perfect accent (where’d he learn that — Swedish students should take note!), who sounded so slap-stick amusing that I had to try not to listen to him or I’d end up laughing out loud.

And the flute. Its sole purpose must have been to wake the audience up. The old man next to me (or next to his wife who was next to me) started snoring loudly at some point, and the wife nudged him a few times to wake him up. But yes, the flute. It was an ear-piercing shrieking screech. It’d wake the dead. And the drowsy audience.

I can’t blame them for being drowsy. The way Noh is sung/spoken simply lulls you to sleep. I found myself sleepy too.

The sad part is, the play was about The Tale of Genji but I still didn’t get much out of it, even though I’ve actually read the book (although in English).

It might be like Nattou. The first time I ate it I wanted to throw up, but the second time it tasted great. I’ve not given up on the Noh deal yet, but I’m quite skeptical it’ll be an art form that I’ll ever truly appreciate.

The 6th of May (I know, I’m sort of behind), I went to “Fushimi inari-taisha (伏見稲荷大社)” [wikipedia], together with my girlfriend and her parents. It was more or less a gorgeous day and it was a very beautiful sight. It was a huge temple area, with a trail leading up around with various things to see on the way. We didn’t go all the way (papa-san was getting hungry *grin*) but what I did get to see made me wanna go again. Pictures:

Arrival, a little before noon.

The first thing you did when you arrived was a small cleansing ritual (simply washing your hands and mouth with water from some… thing.

The cleansing thing. You can see a number of little “scoops” with which you gather water, pour it over your one hand, then over the other, and then finally take a sip from it, and spit it out into the area below (surrounded by the gray stone).

There was a pretty cute little map over the whole area. It’s a link so you can click it to see a more sized-up version if you are curious.

Map over the Fushimi inari-taisha (伏見稲荷大社).

I’d make a modified version with a red line following the path I took but you know, I honestly don’t really know where we ended up going. It is quite a lot bigger than it looks on that map, though. I think we walked around for an hour or so, but on that map, we may have moved a few inches or three.

One of the things I particularly love about Japan is the ancient “monster-culture”, or however you wanna call it. There are monsters in every society’s history (ogres or whatever), but the Japanese one stands out somehow. I’m afraid it may have to do with Nintendo.

“Hi.” (This fellow was guarding the entrance to the place, if I recall. Pretty imposing when you’re standing there being stared down at, to be honest.)

I have a hard time finding beauty in structures, but I must admit things like the above strike me as beautiful. I can look at something and often think “Oh. How quaint.” but that’s as far as it gets.

Or how about this one. Gorgeous, if you ask me. Or maybe I’m just Japanophilic.

You found things like this all over the place, as if someone had indifferently strewn them out over the floor without a thought. Incredibly beautiful, and sometimes only noticeable within a single step, in between a narrow path leading away from the main one you’re trekking on. I can’t imagine how many things I missed as I walked there. It’s as if they’re made to be walked again, and again, and each time you’re meant to discover new things.

There’s me, and uh, my girlfriend, who’s hiding. Behind me. As you can see, I’m wearing a Skotos t-shirt (”Why Yes. I am God.”)  — still faithful, after all these years. We are standing against one of the many, many red pillars making the gates (torii, I believe they’re called). These things did never, ever end. I can’t imagine just how many of them there were. This place is one of the more famous ones, so you may have seen it on TV or so, if you haven’t been here personally.

You found these occasionally, i.e. the torii-path splitting up into two directions. Oh and there’s me, too. Look how white my skin is. I’ll be scorched this summer, I just know it.

Another map. There were a variety of maps over the place around the place so you could sort of see where you were. I like these for some reason. A billion times cooler than some computer-made “You Are Here” map.

Another “hidden” spot that you would easily miss if you weren’t looking to the sides all the time. Their unobtrusiveness makes spotting them feel almost sinful, and taking pictures felt like stealing something precious from somebody. But I took a picture anyway. I hope the gods won’t mind (actually, if I understood papa-san correctly, this whole area is dedicated to the god of trade — so by showing you this, you might feel enticed to visit, which the god of trade can’t argue with, now can s/he?).

Ooh, a flower. *snap*

Speaking of flowers, I’m going to try to get the pictures up from Ten-something-something that I went to before. I forgot the name (heh), but it was more or less a collection of gardens. Incredibly gorgeous, and if you happen to like flowers and plants, you’d be in the die-now-happily state. I personally don’t really like flowers that much, but being there and seeing all the gardens and arrangements made me appreciate our flowery friends on a whole new level.

Something that you tend to find everywhere in Kyoto, especially in places like these, are the tiny little streets that stretch out in every direction. Their love for octopus might have inspired them, who knows. Or maybe it’s that they’ve been far more preservative over their heritage from the old times than we have, in Sweden. Regardless, I hate to sound conservative but I completely adore these.

A gang of… monster-dogs. Or are they bulldogs, the guys in the middle row? No, they look more like goblins.

The last image. Buddha stuffs. There were lots of it all over the place, but this one was particularly large and … goldey.

That’s it for now. I’ll try to get the Ten-something-something pictures up as soon as possible. Oh, and I’ll figure out the name of Ten-something-something as well. I think I’ve got a brochure lying around here somewhere with it written on.