Impressions of Kyoto

Michael Nilan

The most vivid memory of my first day in Kyoto was my surprise at how small, narrow, and compact every thing was in the city. Coming from the sparsely populated northen mid-west section of the United States, it was truly a "different world" as I gazed at the tiny houses, apartments and shops, narrow roads and streets, and the numberless small cars, bicycles, scooters and people all going about their daily life - all of which seemed even more pushed together by the mountains bordering the city to the north, east, and west.

The sheer age of the city itself amazes me. Being well over a thousand years old, the eyes of Kyoto's soul have witnessed the great movements and great men that have, in war and in peace, contributed to define the face of Japan. The small, 400 year old Buddhist temple that I did a three month homestay at is over 150 year older than the birth of my nation -- and though I was not overjoyed at waking up at 5:45 every day to rake the temple grounds, I had respect for my daily task -- a task that had been done long before my existence, and one which would continue long there after.

The vagueness of the Japanese people and their language is also felt as I try to pin down an image of Kyoto -- within minutes of seeing an older woman in kimono walk pass an old temple, one could be looking through the windows of a McDonald's as young people eat bergers and fries wearing clothes that, except for their Japanese faces, make them indistinguishable from their American or European counterparts.

I visited the famous temple of Enryaku-ji a couple of months ago and remember seeing the lantern that is said to have been burning for well over a thousand years. Kyoto's soul is like that lantern of Enryaku-ji. As men, ideas, goverments, even centuries come and pass away, the same flame within Kyoto keeps burning -- burning in the present, but with clear memories of the past.

Last fall, I took an evening walk to a little park located in the north-west part of the city. It is a small park, but what makes it unique is that it is a large hill that juts right out of the dense houses and streets below with a path that leads to the top where there is an opening and a few things for children to play on. As I sat there looking at the sunset over the western mountain, Kyoto seemed its most beautiful. The moon peeking out as the sun dragged its last fingers over the trees on top of the mountains, the big neon lights emerging in the distant downtown, the small temple that I had to soon return , all were under the gaze of Kyoto's eyes, nestled between the mountains for another night's sleep.