Thursday, May 28, 2015

The Samboa


Well, you have to love a bar that asks you to remove your hat when you sit down.  The Samboa Bar, established 1918.  Tiny, quiet, smoky and oozing history.  I am almost compelled to visit places like this, no matter what city I'm in.

There is a drunk passed out on the bar when I arrive.  I think of the bartender Nick in It's a Wonderful Life after George is unborn: "We serve hard drinks in here for men who want to get drunk fast."  This is a proper whiskey bar.  There aren't any other spirits to be seen.  There also aren't any other gaijin to be seen.  The Samboa is off the sightseeing trail even though it sits in the Teramachi arcade where every third shop seems to cater to the tourist.  It takes a bit of courage to push open the opaque glass door to see what lies beyond.

Every bar has its thing - a style, a theme, an atmosphere.  The Samboa has an incredible collection of bottle openers that cover almost every surface.  There is no TV, no jukebox or stereo, no newspapers or magazines, but there are hundreds of bottle openers to study, from the simple to the ornate, the contemporary to the antique.

The barman wears a white shirt, a tie and an apron in the tradition of the American bartender 100 years ago.  "Good Japanese speaking" is the compliment I receive from him when I leave.



2016 Addendum

The Japanese are an absurdly honest people.  It is incredibly rare to feel cheated or conned in this country.  But...there are unscrupulous folks even here.

I have been to the Samboa half a dozen times since I first posted this more than a year ago.  Am I regular?  No.  But I guarantee I am one of the few gaijin who speak any Japanese to the barman.  Thus, he knows who I am.

This evening, seeking refuge from a fierce summer shower, I popped into the Samboa.  I was somewhat dismayed to see the Japanese were outnumbered by Western tourists.  I ordered a martini and listened to the rain.  After a second martini I decided it was time to leave.  

"Okanjo onegai shimasu." 
3,100."
"He?  ¥‎2,100?"
"¥3,100."

Wait a minute.  I can get a martini for that price at '21', the exceedingly charming if vaguely exclusive New York bar that might very well have invented this cocktail.

Maybe my martinis were paying for the new 21st Century toilet the Samboa finally installed.  I don't know.  But the grumpy barman has seen the last of me.  Hello Dolly, just a few blocks away, makes an infinitely superior martini at a reasonable price.  And they wouldn't dare serve it without an olive and a smile.

Sunday, May 17, 2015

Progress Part II


Walking home after midnight down the dim streets of Katsura.  A man comes bounding out of an apartment building and crosses the street in my direction.  He is slightly disheveled.  Drunk?  He beelines right for me.  My LA and New York instincts tell me to prepare for a fight.

"Eki wa doko desuka?"

I know what he is asking, but seeing I am a gaijin he quickly rephrases the question in English.

"Where is the station?"

I respond in a Japanese-English hybrid and make an arrow with my arm in the direction of the train station, "Straight to migi."

He runs off into the night.

I am positively thrilled by this 15-second encounter.  It is a wonderful victory for me.  13 months in Kyoto and someone other than a tourist has asked me for directions.  Not just someone, a Japanese someone.

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Nara

Golden Week in Japan is a cluster of holidays the first week of May.  I decided to take a day and be a tourist again.  Nara is just 35 minutes from Kyoto by train, but there was something about getting on a proper express train that made me feel I was really going somewhere.

Nara is the birthplace of Japanese Buddhism and was briefly the capital of Japan from 710 to 784.  Because this title lasted only 74 years (compared to Kyoto's 1,000+) it doesn't have the same complexes Kyoto seems to have.  It is a quiet, picturesque town peppered with UNESCO World Heritage monuments...and deer.



According to legend, a Shinto deity arrived in Nara on the back of a white deer some time in the 8th Century.  Since then, the deer have been regarded as divine messengers by the local people.

Growing up in California, deer are a rare sight.  You are lucky to see the skittish creatures from a distance on a trip to the mountains.  I hadn't walked more than 100 meters from the train station in Nara when I saw one on the sidewalk.  This elicited an "aww-look-a-wild-animal-just-hanging-out-on-the-street" reaction from me.  A few minutes later there was another.  And another.  And another.  I soon realized they were everywhere, like pigeons in New York or London.  They were in the park, in the street, at the gates to the temples and shrines, at the doors to shops and cafes, they were poking around the booths of the food vendors.  Then I noticed their incessant scratching and their rather mangy coats.  They stopped being so cute.  I decided against petting them or feeding them the ¥150 cookies that they survive on.  For me there is always something a little sad about a wild animal that has become completely dependent on man.



Todaiji is the largest wooden structure in the world.  The scale of the temple overwhelms and you can't help but marvel at such an incredible engineering feat.  Giant buildings of stone or brick or steel, sure.  But wood!  The current structure, built in 1709, is actually two-thirds the size of the original that burned down.




Kasuga Taisha Shrine sits on the edge of a primeval forest and its brilliant vermillion red is a striking contrast to the fresh, rain-touched green of the new spring foliage.  Like the gates of Fushimi Inari it is the repetition that charms visitors.  There are some 3,000 bronze and stone lanterns donated by worshipers over the last 1,200 years.  The centuries of weather have given the hanging bronze lanterns a lovely grayish-turquoise patina and most of the standing stone lanterns wear a colorful jacket of moss.  Adding to this gorgeous riot of color at Kasuga Taisha is the purple wisteria around the grounds that is at the peak of its bloom.

There must be a hundred jinja (shrines) in and around Kasuga Taisha.  I have seen people pray at shrines in Kyoto, but because of the sheer volume here the praying becomes almost obsessive.  It seems every 10 meters people stop and go through the prayer ritual: bow twice, clap twice, invoke and bow again.  It's as if earlier prayers will be voided if not followed by another prayer.


Friday, May 1, 2015

坪庭 / tsubo-niwa


The tsubo-niwa (坪庭) is a very small garden usually in the interior courtyard of a building.  This is my version of a tsubo-niwa on my east-facing terrace.   It is certainly not as large or physically engaging as my garden at the house in Uji last year, but it is just as enchanting bringing a joy and calm to my little apartment in Katsura.