Nishijin

Today we rented bikes from the hotel, much to Glen's delight. The one-size-fits-all, fixed gear bikes were a little hard to get used to, but were serviceable for the flat streets around the Imperial Palace, the Nishijin district, and on down to Nijo Castle. It was fun to learn the local cycling customs and to have that relatively fast and very inexpensive way to get around these places that are really quite near to one another.

Our first stop was the Nishijin Textile Center.
We arrived just in time to see the kimono fashion show. One after another, the women posed for photos, showing sleeves, hemlines, obi, and hairstyles to best advantage. It was silly and dramatic and beautiful, all at once.

Upstairs, many beautiful things were for sale, but it was more interesting to me to watch the weavers work fine silk threads into images of flowers and samurai destined for the kind of formal kimono we had seen earlier.
One man patiently stripped bamboo into long, narrow splines. these splines bundled together and carefully cut into short lengths. For a long time, I couldn't figure out what he was doing. Finally, Glen pointed out the loom reeds on a table nearby, the height of each one equal to the short bundles of bamboo splines.

On leaving, we passed Kamigyoku, a Shinto shrine nearby. There, a man and his four children walked up the short stairs to the shrine proper. After the father pulled on the bell rope, clapped his hands and bowed, his two sons did the same, followed by the two daughters.

We cycled on, looking for a place to have lunch. It was a little late in the day, so not much was open. Finally, Ruth said, "What about this?" "This" turned out to be a Chinese restaurant, and the long, long menu was entirely in kanji, with very few pictures. The cheerful waitress spoke no English, but somehow, with pointing, laughing, and Glen's limited Japanese, we managed to order three meals from the illustrated lunch specials menu. The photos were so poor that we had no idea what we were ordering, except that the inexpensive set-price meals consisted of five dishes of varying size. So it was with delight that Ruth was presented with sweet-and-sour pork, and Glen got fried rice, one of his favorites! My main dish was a soupy mix of tofu and spicy ground pork -- unexpectedly delicious, and not what I would ever order on purpose!

We had been served the ubiquitous cold tea as soon as we sat down, but Ruth really wanted a Coke. She tried "coke" and "soda," but the waitress was uncomprehending. Finally, she said "Coca Cola" and the young woman's face lit up. Off she went, laughing and exclaiming to the other waitress who was lounging in the back of the otherwise empty eatery. A few minutes later, two icy cokes arrived, amid more laughter.

After we had eaten, the waitress showed us the check, but -- like the menu -- it was incomprehensible, and we just shook our heads in dismay. So she began to read the numbers aloud, and Glen scrambled to write them in Arabic numerals. Nodding and smiling, she indicated that he got it right. When she returned with our change, she smiled broadly and said in English, "Thank you." Everyone laughed again, as we giggled "Arigato" and went out the door. I wish I'd thought to take her picture....