20. Chapter: Almost a Wasted Day

One of the great pleasures in Kyoto is the regular flea markets held at temples, and on the 21st of each month, one of the largest takes place at the wonderful Toji Temple next to the great pagoda. Because there are so many stalls, the temple tends to fade into the background on that day.

I had been looking forward to this event for months. Unfortunately, I had made arrangements today with a Japanese couple through the Servas organization (a somewhat peace-oriented hosting club) who wanted to join. We had actually planned to meet earlier, but then I got sick and had to cancel, and today was the only chance to see them.

I had imagined it would be nice to meet some 'real Japanese' in Japan, but that turned out to be a real misjudgment, as these people were so boring that I almost fell asleep. They were friendly and well-meaning, but so uninterested and uninteresting that I could only yawn; no conversation ensued, no questions were asked, scarcely any answers given. They stood where I would have gone on, and when I found something interesting and wanted to look at it in peace, they hurried on. So there was absolutely no common ground, what a pity!

After lunch, I announced that I wanted to go around the market to take photos and quickly slipped away with the mention that we would surely run into each other later, which, of course, did not happen, as it was packed. That was probably very rude and ungracious and ungrateful, but I didn’t know how else to help myself.

I then spent another hour or two wandering around and had to notice that today, much more than six years ago, there is a lot of tourist junk and kitsch offered, but in between, you can still find beautiful tea cups, antiques, old fans, ridiculously cheap used kimonos made of heavy silk, bonsais, and especially all kinds of strange foods that you have no idea what they are. You can try a lot of things!

A poor monkey has to perform its trained tricks, monks read people's palms, massages are given, shoes are polished, skewers are grilled, singing bowls are set in motion, so there's a lot to see, but somehow the day was ruined for me. Perhaps I have just become too used to traveling alone and am easily irritated when things don't go my way.

For consolation, I then went to my jazz café Yamatoya and enjoyed an Umeshu and then the coffee ceremony from the host just for my cup; he even continuously measured the water temperature! In between, he was cooking a quick lunch of noodles on the stove behind the counter, where only water is usually boiled, while quickly shoving some portions into his mouth with chopsticks.

Of course, wonderful jazz was playing, and I immediately discovered a great pianist I had never heard of before (the album cover of the vinyl that is currently playing is always displayed on the shelf): the blind Spanish pianist Tete Montoliu, who has been blind since birth.

Then a short visit to the Kyoto Handicraft Center on the way home, and I felt good again.