June 7, 2019
Shibuya
Katie hadn’t felt too well since arrival–maybe a mix between jetlag and an onset of some cold, so I had told her to stay back at the hostel if she wanted. She took me up on the offer, and I ended up deciding to visit a few places I thought she wouldn’t mind me venturing to on my own.
I ended up parading around the city, practically (definitely) by accident!
I desperately wanted to visit the Meiji Jingu, the large Shinto shrine in the middle of the city near Yoyogi Park, so before leaving the hostel I loaded up on carbs and coffee (an excellent combination). It was drizzling a bit, but I sat atop the hostel’s roof and watched the city wake up amid the dreary but peaceful morning. I let myself reflect, drinking out of a plastic bottle, eating melon bread, lounging on the roof.
The first mistake I made, though, was thinking I would be able to access the Imperial Palace gardens in the morning. No such luck. Unfortunately the gardens are closed on Fridays, so the gates were shut, blocking out the city on a day of peace in the gardens. I did, however, get a lovely view of the mote and architecture of the exterior walls (ha!). I also managed to get lost in Tokyo Station’s underground mall–an elaborate layer of pop up shops and established, luxury retail buried underneath the city.
But I had other plans.
I set out for Meiji Jingu not long after and ended up in Shibuya, slightly farther down the street from the famous Harajuku street, where that side of the district had made a name for itself with small pop up shops and cafes lining the streets. Across the way, a forest peeked out from the concrete sidewalks and pathways, a huge wooden gate sprouting up from the ground. At this point, it was raining–I was lucky I brought an umbrella–and I really didn’t know what to expect.
If you know me well, you also know that I’m not religious. I fell out of the church not long after I entered high school, and there are a multitude of reasons for why I don’t plan on returning. I do, however, have an appreciation for the spaces that are created through a sense of community and the history that is connected to the spaces themselves. Religion has shaped modern society in so many ways (both good and bad) that it’s difficult to not see its effects. So, when I approached the main shrine, the walkway enclosed by huge, staggering trees, I surprisingly felt a sense of serenity that I hadn’t in a long time. Maybe it was the fact I was able to explore on my own, or maybe it was the location itself, I’m not entirely sure. But I did wander the complex for quite some time, wet shoes and all.
There were two things I wanted to do here–the first was to hang an ema, or a wooden plaque inscribed with a wish, and the second was to draw one of the fortunes. I thought it would be respectful to give back to the place that welcomed me there, at least, and something drew me to looking at the lines and lines of other emas surrounding the tree in the main courtyard. These were usually hung and then eventually burned ritually, and the thought is that once burned, the wishes will go to the deities enshrined there. I took one, inscribing it with my own wish before hanging it on one of the hooks containing the many others.
Should you but resolve to climb
That peak towering to the heavens,
You will find there is a pathway
To its very summit.
Emperor Meiji, 17
By this time it was pouring, and even though I had an umbrella to keep me moderately dry, my shoes had soaked through. Determined to not let this stop me, I drew a fortune–the Emperor Meiji and his wife were both famous for their poetry–in the same way I did at Senso-ji Temple the previous day. Taking the number–I think it was seventeen, if I remember correctly–I played the matching game again and eventually pulled out the fortune it matched. And as luck would have it, it was one I could definitely relate to in that moment!
I eventually made my way out of the small forest and to a coffee shop a few blocks over, Cafe Fuglen, which had an excellent hot mocha and a place to rest my feet before the next half of my adventure. It was refreshing, being on my own in a place I didn’t know–scary, too, but mostly I felt a sense of calm as I watched the rain fall outside the windows.
Shimokitazawa
There’s a small district tucked away to the north of Shibuya which is home to a small cafe and local vintage stores out of the way from the stream of tourists. I like exploring–it makes me feel like I have some sort of goal in mind besides tourist attractions. The district is a sleepy one before nightfall, and hidden away in the streets it calls home is a local pastry shop that sells Totoro-themed puff pastries fill to the brim with sweet creams. I knew Katie would want one, so I bought a few before leaving for the main area with alleyways full of record shops and vintage knickknacks.
Every street I traveled down had local pop up shops, storefronts covered in decorative displays unique in their styles. I browsed a few, finding some steals and even came across an Oklahoma Thunder jersey (which I still have no idea how it found its way to this small district). I wandered the roads, my shoes soaked through again, eventually ending up in an okonomiyaki shop not far from the train station. If you’ve never heard of or tried okonomiyaki, how I would describe it involves a lot of vegetables, sometimes noodles, and a flour mixture turned into what might be called a homemade fritter.
But, with my luck, I was the only one there.
Despite that, I made friends with the owner of the shop and we chatted a bit before I ordered, soaking in the warmth of the grill top next to me. This district was very much a relaxed portion of my day, although it really comes alive in the evenings, which the lights come on and local bands come to play at a venue called The Cage. Either way, I was satiated and tired, ready to head back.
When I returned to the hostel, Katie and I climbed up to the rooftop, the city quiet and dark, the lights on the streets flickering as the sparse traffic passed by on the streets below. I unpacked the Totoro puff pastries after a bit of dodged questions. I unfolded the box in front of us, the eyes of the pastries bright and their heads decorated with decorative chocolates. Katie and I sat there, trading stories from the day, as a light drizzle started up again.
It was beautiful and surreal, sitting in this country halfway across the world.
What a way to end the night.
Sam