KAMAKURA: Snapshot

Weather: Overcast, cold and calm. Think Pacific Northwest without drizzle.
Location: About 1 1/2 hours outside Tokyo by local train.

We went walking today on the Japanese version of a "historical hiking course," which meant that after a long stroll right next to a fairly congested road, we had to climb a lot of stairs and push through throngs of people before we actually got to real, untouched nature. Kamakura's mountains are, like most urban-suburban "mountains" in Japan, simply large hills... and not even foothills at that. (Mt. Si off I-5 near Seattle can kick the butt of any of these mountains five times over.)

I'm not complaining though, as it was nice to get out of the city, especially on my host parents' expense. We left early and returned early but despite that fact rode both ways in the reserved seat Green Car, as normal cars were standing room only. Yay, Golden Week.

Kamakura proper was equally packed, though the temples that we visited on the outskirts were much quieter than the insane shopping streets near the station. After the hike, we were quite hungry, and my host parents made the mistake of thinking we could find food back near the station area. *And* they wanted to eat traditional, Japanese food. Well, I would have been tickled pink, if they had been able to just pick a place and wait in line. But despite that every single restaurant had a line and a wait, we had to test our own patience by wandering here and there before they finally gave up and settled for less prominent, more humble fare.

They almost, almost went into the ramen shop I ate at when I was in Kamakura last fall. Thankfully, they turned away and I didn't have to mention that it was empty for a reason. Ick. We ate at one of the more colorful, traditional, hole-in-the wall, stool-and-bar restaurants I've ever been to. I didn't even see what it was called but I doubt it had a name more impressive than the Japanese version of "Joe's Grill." Even so, the day had taxed even this restaurant's stock down to a few limited offerings. But what did I care? I can eat Unagi-don any day.

After we ate, Host Mom passed me 3000-yen as a day's "allowance," which I can only guess was money left over from the unspent lunch budget. As there was nothing I really WANTED to buy (omiyage are SOOOO uninspiring), I braved the crowds to attempt window-shopping by myself until we reconvened at the station an hour later. Fortunately for me (and as I already knew), Kamakura houses one of the more well-stocked Studio Ghibli shops I've ever seen in the Tokyo area so I dropped a few thousand yen of my own on the last Totoro plushies I wanted. Now I have the whole family! *squee*

I also found a several 1000 yen yukata at a kimono shop and pushed my way through the orgy of people to see if any of them fit. No yukata will ever fit me ENTIRELY properly (except maybe the L-sized ones at Homeikan Ryokan in Hongo 3-chome) so I settled for a few that should fit Justin and I *well enough.*

I did expect going to Kamakura again to be more poignant, as it was one of the first major excursions I made upon my arrival. However, like everything else lately, it was just pleasant and refreshingly normal. I do wish I had the means to get back to Nikko without rendering myself broke. I should have thought of that earlier!

The memory that sticks out most from today is rather sad and pretty characteristic of my host sister, so I'm almost hesitant to share it. 'Course, I'm going to anyway.

We wandered into the Kamakura Gu Shrine near the bus stop at the end of the hiking course. The shrine, like most, is run as a business that sells any number of charms, purifiers and prayer/wish cards. At the top of the stairs before the shrine there was a table set up before two large rocks, on which was piled stacks of cookie-sized ceramic discs. As you might guess, these discs are to be infused with bad thoughts and negative energy and then smashed against the rocks in order to get out all the heebie-jeebies.

All you have to do is break the disc. If the disc doesn't break... you're in trouble.

Host Mom put down 100 yen for me and the monk positioned me in front of the rock. I wasn't quite sure HOW to put all my icky thoughts into the little cookie but the monk gratiously pantimimed what looked like throwing up and I got the gist that I was supposed to exhale my energy out onto the disc. I gave a big roar and, at Host Mom's encouragement, another, before hurtling the thing into oblivion against a boulder. Host Mom followed suit, and from the depth of her exhale it looked as if she had a lot of bad energy to release.

When Host Sister stepped up to bat, she gave a soft, pathetic little sigh and, without any hesitation, winged the disc at the right-hand boulder. It glanced quite softly and harmlessly off the top before skidding to a stop on the shattered remains of its brothers. It was still in one piece.

She seemed momentarily distraught, as did Host Mom, whose eyes grew wide and the apparent inability of her daughter to throw three feet. She said, "it's ok, if it's broken!" before realizing that Host Sister's disc hadn't broken and graciously covered up with the polite lie, "oh, good, it broke."

Oops.