Rice-Wined and Dined

Salutations,

It has been two whole weeks since I have arrived in Kyoto, Japan and I have to say that I am thoroughly enjoying the rhythm of the city. Biking through the winding, and often unlabled, streets of Kyoto has been a pleasure and I recommend to any that travel to experience there next destination from the perspective of a bicycle, it's low impact, low cost, low to the ground, and unlike a bus, you can stop anytime you want.

Speaking of bike rides through the city, I got to trek across a fair amount of Kyoto last night on my way to meet a daughter of a former colleague of my mother's. I met Hillary and Taka, a graduate student and a Buddhist monk, respectively, at the intersection of Sanjou-dori and Kiamachi, a very hip, once griddy, part of Kyoto. Until I biked my route last night, I was unaware that this was the same place the Sensei Tashibu, my amazing Japanese teacher from high school that inspired me to come back to Japan, had taken us in 2005.

Looking for and finally connecting with Hillary and Taka made me think about an interesting concept: you know when you're looking for someone that you've never met before and when you finally see them, it is as if they could look no other way, even though you had no real basis to form a mental image of them? Anyway, I experienced this peculiar phenomenon upon our acquaintance. After our short introductions Hillary, an average height blonde American, Taka, a more stout, muscular, Japanese Buddhist Priest, and I, a six foot four American, proceeded to A-Bar, a popular restaurant-bar-spot for young energetic types.

The place was small and unlike the states was filled with the dank aroma of cigarette smoke. I could not place a theme to the place except for the fact that there was a lot of nude female imagery on the wall and our waiter was wearing one of those shirts with a caricature of a naked female torso. Anyway, besides the boobs and the extremly small benches and tables, the food was excellent. Hillary, the vegitarian of the bunch, ordered for us all. We had a tofu veggie salad, which was very light and refreshing; a huge udon soup with very creamy broth; some sort of breaded and fried cheese pumpkin pastry in katsu sauce (damn); some yakitori (chiken on a stick) for Taka and I; and a fish, whole, fried. I hadn't had a whole fried fish since Athens Greece at an Ouzeri and before that it was in Mexico with mi familia on the beach; essentially when you order a whole fried fish anywhere, it's going to be a dish well-ordered.

After a nice flowing conversation over a filling taste-testing-extravaganza we left the A-Bar to visit one of Taka's favourite sake bars. Owned by one of the most stylish old men in Kyoto, Nicchi sake bar, provided a very nice environment to end the night. As Dianna Washington's rendition of "Fly Me To The Moon" and other classic jazz standards played quietly, I was treated to the polar opposites of the sake spectrum. Apparently, sake (rice wine) is made in a barrel, just like grape wine. More interestingly, the sweetness or dryness (the two ends of the sake spectrum) depends on from where the sake is withdrawn from the barrel-either the top, middle, or bottom, I forget which is which. I was amazed by the differences in taste between the sweeter and dryer styles of sake. The difference in tastes is very slight, yet provides the drinker with a whole new tasting experience.

I had a fabulous night with Hillary and Taka and was even invited to come to Myoshinji (Taka's temple) on wednesday morning for a photo shoot for a magazine of Taka leading one of his meditation sessions. Unfortunately, I will not be able to attend. However, I was also granted the opportunity of spending New Years at the monestary with Taka as well, which I heard was a great experience (they eat noodles and drink beer all night . . . that's what I'm doing right now).

In other news, if it can get any better than sake, breaded and fried pumpkin, and cartoon boobs, I recently purchased a Nintendo DS Lite, strictly for studying purposes. There is a programme for the Nintendo that allows the avid Japanese student to scribble, with a stylus, onto a screen any kanji in the Japanese language; there are roughly 2,000 kanji in the Japanese language. This shiny machine the size of hand is a gift from Hashem, if not anybody else. Also i have mastered the art of the udon egg drop soup.

Shout out to my boy Zach Williams, hailing straight from his bachelor pad in downtown Beijing. You can visit his blog as well, I would recommend reading Zach's entries, as they provide interesting, insightful, and comedic perspectives on life in China as a wroking english teacher. Here is the URL for Zach's blog: www.zwilliams.blogspot.com

Keep it real Zach and try keeping it a bit more real Western World.

Until next time all.