Episode Three finds me in Osaka with the guys. Couldnt’ go back home just yet :p

When I step out of the train that exits into Kyoto city, I’m greeted by huge modern posters advertising mostly American Brands. Thousands of people cross crowded streets passing very modern stores. For now, I’m a little confused.

As long as I can rememmbger, Kyoto has been a supposed place of history, mystery and intrigue. I had images in my mind of men dressed in monk’s robes, walking to and fro in their setas (Japanese slippers), calmly going about life down quiet streets filled with telltale Japanese buildings. I imagined Kyoto to be the real Japan, the kind that when I went there I would get washed in a feeling that was similar to the first time I watched anime, or starting reading about Japan on the internet. But so far, it feels very familiar.It has a touch of Tokyo right in the city center, with tall buildings and
large numbers of people. But in the distance, I can see the faintest outline of mountains, which gives me a sense like Oasaka. Then the buildings and layout of the city have an architecture that remind of of certain places in Europe. It feels a little scattered, but I’m still glad to be here.I am not the biggest sightseeing enthusiast at times.

My trip to Kyoto mainly came froma trip to Osaka, and I decided to come here in my down
time. I ask a man where the most famous temple in Kyoto is, and he
gives me some directions in Japanese. “Take the number six bus for
about fifteen minutes and you will be at the temple.”

He says. I nod in agreement, then go outside to look for the terminal.However, it is a holiday, the end of silver week and the streets are crammed with people. At every bus stop there are no less than fifty people standing in line for the buses to arrive, and I don’t see any terminals marked six, or any buses with six on them. After walking in a circle for ten minutes or so, I see a few girls in a coffee house. They all have dark hair and look European. I ask them about Kyoto. One of them, a tall slim girl with an attractive face tells me in a heavy accent they are in town for an eight week exchange program. They say that I need to walk thirty minutes north and I will find the temple. I start
walking.

I pass a bridge and see a river stretching far into the distance. At either side of the river banks, beside large sloping walls designed to channel flood water, are hundreds of people sitting down. They stretch for as far as I can look, and I stand there for a minute or two, just people watching. A few street artists are doing their thing, painting passersby or drawin caricature for a thousand yen. I pass more shops and mostly fast food places, then I reach a temple. There are no markings on the front, save two large Japanese dragon-dogs. It looks pretty big, and people are filing in and out in a constant stream. I go in.

The place immediately shifts from a city to something else. Around me are tall trees with thick leaves. The elements of the temple start to appear. Some bells here and there, an old building and then eventually the main area. I am by an extremely tall Japanese prayer shrine. People walk forward and pull the rope a few times to ring the bell. They clasp their hands and drop a little money into a large silver jar. I watch them do it for a while, taking in the vista of the temple grounds. It
is very spacious and well groomed, but crowded. I like the temple, but seeing people traipsing about with Deisel jeans and Louis Vuitton bags makes things less spectacular.

I walk further inside, and find a park, which hilariously has a statue called “JOOK”, which means “sex” in Jamaican vernacular. I watch a few boisterous young boys chase some people-friendly ravens for a few minutes while I think about life. I walk further into the temple, and find a beautiful pond with small fishes swimming clearly near a short waterfall. A Japanese man and his son stand by the water, feeding the fishes with breadcrumbs and watching the frenzy.

I go further into the temple, and I can clearly see a hill nearby, its green body covered in lush vegetation, with the lengthy bamboo shoots standing out like needles in a fuzzy ball of yarn. A bench provides another spot of solitude, and I drink some water while taking in the nature. After I’m done with that temple, I go back into the city, immediately transported back to reality. I find another temple nearby, a Zen temple guarded my tall men with police uniforms on. This is the Kennin-Ji,
Kyoto’s oldest Zen Buddhist temple. This feels like the “real” Kyoto. After I pay five hundred yen to go inside and remove my shoes, I am in a huge wooden building the likes of which I have never seen. Japanese architecture of this nature really has a therapeutic and balanced touch. Everything is expertly groomed, clean and calm. There are various historical pharaphernalia on display and there are rooms that guests cannot enter or photograph.

 The place feels very old andhistoric. Most of the people walking around are Japanese couples or
families, taking a break on the weekend. I walk into a room the size of a basketball court where people are in various states of relax; they are either sleeping outright, laying on each other, or just sitting quietly. I pass this room and walk across a semi-bridge that connects the buildings. There I see displays of statues showing a range of Japanese style sculpting. In here definitely feels more like a temple to me.’

I put on a pair of red slippers and walk outside through a rope towards another large building. This is the main attraction. The building is the size of a church and empty save three or four large sculptures beside an elegant shrine. As I walk in, I see everyone looking up, and
so do I. Then, I see it.

On the ceiling is a painting, an old, classic Japanese painting depicting dragons and various other mythological symbols. It is the largest painting of its kind I have seen thus far. People stand there and take photographs, and I do the same. Inside there is shadowy and ancient, filled with secrets and mysteries. I stay in there for a few minutes, and then leave. Outside, the air is cool and the leaves rustle in the trees. The property is very calming and there are less people there than the other temple. I make my way back to the large relaxation room, and lay there for a while, with my eyes closed and the occasional gust of breeze tickling my feet. A voice comes over the speaker, and I recognize the tone.

The temple is closing. I get up, slightly more refreshed, and head back to the center of the city. I pass the bridge again, and there are even more people this time by the riverside. It is an interesting site. I head back to the train station and then up some more, just to see what else is around. I end up at Terimachi street, which is the most famous shopping street in Kyoto. Many, many years ago it was a district where goods were bought and sold, when men had horses and carriages, and there wasn’t nicely manicured tile lining the street. The size was daunting, with three streets stretching for at least a quarter mile in a straight line, each one packed with different stores. I walked for a while,
browsing here and there ,and eventually purchased a small coin bag for my travels.

I went back to the station, a little tired from all the walk, but glad that I had done some sightseeing, and took a breather in a Buddhist temple.

Day two of the tour with Maxi Priest. Red light district, and freestyling ensue.

I go on tour with Maxi Priest, Marvin Priest, Beniton the Menace and the band from Tokyo to Osaka. Clubs, high-rise hotels and cute chicks are the order of the day. This episode is part on of two in Tokyo with shots of Maxi and the crew performing at Billboard live, and me & the boys partying in the red light district in Shinjuku.

Japan, I’m starting to discover, is a place that love fireworks and barbecues. It is summertime, and the days usually end with the sky a milky pink-white, with an armada of clouds slowly scrolling across the sky. After a great trip to Tokyo and Osaka on tour with my cousin Beniton the Menance and Maxi Priest I’m more open to heading to different places. I’m meeting up with Emily and some friends to go to the Kajima fireworks.

 Emily wants to meet at seven thirty to catch the fireworks, which start at eight-thirty. Since it will be a thirty minute drive to get there, it sounded like a good plan. However, Emi ended up calling me at ten minutes past eight to go, and it seemed like I’d miss the meat of the show. Still I went. Emi waved at me from across the street at Zaza city where we met up, adorned in an attractive Yukata. A Yukata is a traditional Japanese dress worn for these kinds of occassionas (not to be confused with Happis worn during Golden week).

The drive there is quiet, sprinkled with light conversation from Emi and her friends in the car. The fireworks are in Hamakita, just outside Hamamatsu city. As we near Hamakita, I can already see the flash of fireworks in the sky. A loud boom echoes through the air. I can just imagine the screaming crowds jostling to see what was happening. Emi was excited, more excited that I normally see her. “There is where my elementary school was.” She said, pointing towards a small building we drove past.

I tried to imagine Emi as a child, with the small smooth face, bone straight hair and endless energy. For her fireworks were a normal part of her life. She had invited me to no less than four viewings in a month and a half.

 We met up with some other friends of hers, all dressed in Yukatas and found some parking. We had a good walk to the river. Every fifty feet or so, I would see a firework explode in the sky, the boom sounding like quick thunder. Behind me, Emi, her friends and the other Yukatagirls walked and talked, smiling each time another firework exploded.

 Hamamatsu isn’t a very metropolitan area, and more than once I saw a few people looking at me for long stretches, wondering who I was. We were walking on the main road, which eventually diverted onto a small dirt path leading to an intersection below an overpass. We walked pass some tall grass and then came back to a normal sidewalk. There I saw several thousand people, many of them in Yukatas walking around. There were dozens of stalls sell food, fireworks and liquor. It was a frantic mess of lights, voices and bodies.

I made sure to keep and eye on the girls near me, because the Yukata girls around looked startlingly similar, with their hair in buns, walking with a similar, practiced gait. A few more people glance at me now (I think at this point its impossible for them not to, I am the only black person I have seen thus far in a crowd of thousands of Japanese people) and we walk up a hill. It is densely packed, but as we near the top, I can see the outline of the river below, and hundreds more people sitting around there. A structure on a small field is setup, and a voice says something over loudspeakers.

“They are going to show the final fireworks.” Emi tells me, darting to a spot with a good view. I stand where I am and take in the last of the fireworks, which are magnificent, brilliant and beautiful.

One the last of the glowing particles faded into nothing, the crowd stared moving. The group of us–four Yukata girls, one husband and wife and another friend of Emi’s who wasn’t wearing a Yukata, decided to eat some Chinese food afterwards. I groaned inside a little… I don’tnormally like the mixed outings because most people order beef and pork dishes, but we all chip in for the final bill. But I didn’t drive there, and it didn’t really matter. It was only nine o ‘ clock or so.

I met the other Yukata girls, Yuka and Emily who were also regular Salsa dancers. They were both very thin with mischievous eyes. I like something about Emily, who had a thin, long face and a bright smile. We snapped a picture by the car before heading to the restaurant and headed off.

I had never eaten Chinese food in Japan, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure if it really tasted that Chinese. I figured out a way to get enough chicken and shrimp dishes to survive, while chatting and laughing with the group. It was a good outing, and I was glad to take in the
fireworks as a start to my Friday night. Hopefully next time I’ll reach earlier to another such outing, and be able to see more of the stalls and mingle with the crowd.