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Kyoto
Connection
Excerpts
from the book by Deborah Kemp
Continued
from previous page
He
asked me if I had visited any other parts of Japan, and I shared some of
the highlights of my trips with him. He laughed when I told him I went to
Tokyo Disneyland. I said I
thought Tokyo was just too big and crowded for me, and I tried to explain
to him how I felt about Kyoto. I told him I had met several Kyotoites who
didn’t seem to like living in Kyoto, but I couldn’t understand why. To
me it seemed to offer the perfect blend of ancient and modern. I loved the
busy streets like Kawaramachi, but I also loved the ancient temples where
you could leave the city far behind without ever being far from the busy
streets. Whenever I went to Ginkaku-ji, the Temple of the Silver Pavilion,
I could sit and enjoy the simple quiet beauty. One of my favorite places
was Kiyomizu dera where I would climb way up and enjoy the view of Kyoto
far below. One time I happened upon a ceremony that was taking place at
Kiyomizu, and although I didn’t know what the occasion was, the
beautiful silk gowns of the women, and the soft music playing mesmerized
me.
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I told Kenji about my favorite
things in Kyoto, like eating grilled
mochi (pounded rice with a
teriyaki sauce on a stick) from a street vendor near
Yasaka shrine. I had tried one and walked away eating
it. Before I had finished eating it, I wanted another
one! Kenji shook his head in surprise. “Are there any
other strange addictions you have?” he asked. “Well I
truly love
umeboshi
more than anything,” I said, referring to the pickled
ume plum peculiar to Japan. “I eat them all the
time. I love ume
onigiri, too.”
Onigiri
is a sushi rice ball that has an ume in the
middle of it and sesame seeds on the outside. “I think
maybe you are more Japanese than a Japanese!” said
Kenji. I
told him I still didn’t like
sashimi, the
raw fish
so popular there,
“Í do love to go to Nishiki Market. I love seeing all
the unusual things they have for sale there. I buy my
green tea there.”
“I thought Americans were coffee drinkers,” Kenji said.
“Not me. I will drink iced coffee, but I hate hot
coffee. Inoda was becoming more crowded, and
Kenji suggested we go somewhere for dinner. I was
enjoying myself so much I agreed without hesitation.
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 The
streets of Kyoto are laid out in a grid pattern, with broad avenues and
narrow streets. I remembered my first experience in a taxi coming from
Kyoto Station. I couldn’t believe a car could fit down some of those
streets, let alone travel at the speed they did while negotiating the
narrow streets filled with pedestrians and countless bicycles. Once I
had settled in, I had walked all over the city, rarely getting lost due
to the way the streets were laid out. Many streets crossing
Kawaramachidori and Karasumadori were all named after numbers. Ichi, ni,
san, shi, go, roku, shichi, hachi, etc became Ichijo, Nijo, Sanjo,
Shichijo, etc.
I found it easy to get around, and since Kyoto also has a good,
though not extensive, subway system as well as a good extensive bus
system, I rarely used taxis. They were just too expensive on my limited
budget.
True to his word, Kenji unwrapped my
kimono as if I were a present.
It was much less confining than the
formal kimonos I had worn before, so I was freed from it more
quickly.
He pulled the hair ornament out, and let my hair fall around my
shoulders. I looked at him
with a wicked grin and asked, “The shower again?”
He shook his head and bent down to kiss me.
“Perhaps in the morning.”
I
had been busy slipping his clothes off, and we
slid into the bed that had been turned down in our absence.
“Look, there’s a chocolate on the pillow.” I unwrapped it, and put
it in my mouth where it started to melt.
Kenji was quick to
kiss me and help dissolve the chocolate.
He licked the tiny bit remaining on my lips and said, “Delicious.
The chocolate is good, too.”
“Kenji, I think my bad jokes are starting to wear off on you.”
“Tonight was fun, Page.
You make me see things in new ways.
I haven’t gone to Gion festivities for many years.”
I kissed him and told him the night wasn’t over yet, and neither
was the fun.
“Kenji, let me be in control.
Let me make love to
you.” I
put all my efforts into pleasing him, and the words he spoke in barely
audible Japanese, were a testament to my success.
He lay there breathing rapidly, but still trying to talk to me.
“Page, where did you learn to do those things? Just when I think you can’t surprise me any more, you
do.” “I hope I’ll
always be able to surprise you. I
would hate to think you might find me boring.”
“Page, that will never happen, but right now I think I would like
a chance to surprise you!” I
lay back and closed my eyes. “If
you insist.” I was amply rewarded for my efforts to please
him.
Recommended links: Captive
in Kyoto When
a man does not know how to seduce ©
Copyright 2001, Deborah Kemp All
rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission
from the author. Excerpts from the book
by Deborah Kemp (Published with the author's permission) |
