Of why restaurants must hate foreigners

So we've decided something among our not-so-frequent trips to restaurants in the area and around the rest of Japan. Restaurants must hate foreigners. I'm not saying this in a mean sort of way but in a completely understandable sort of way.

It begins with just walking in.
Shopkeeper: "Irasshaimase! (Welcome to our store!)"
And then they see you and pause. "Oh crap," they must be thinking. "Will they speak Japanese? What will we do if they don't speak Japanese?"
So they ask you a little slowly, "Nanmeisama desu ka? (How many people?)"
"Futari desu. (Two.)"
The relief on their faces! They've navigated the first hurdle and they now lead you to your table...
But when they get there, they stop. Oh no. What will happen now? They're stuck at a quandary. To offer the English menu or to just give a Japanese menu. They decide it's better to offer the English menu. You turn it down, saying that Japanese is just fine, and if anything, their face becomes a mixture of relief and confusion. Who is this strange foreigner who prefers a Japanese menu when they no doubt speak English? (It is believed by most Japanese that if you are foreign you must speak English by the way...)

As soon as the menu is set in front of you, your waiter whips out his trusty pad and waits for your order. In some sort of odd skill that I haven't seem to find out how they do it yet, inevitably, every Japanese person can order within the span of about three seconds. But you know, those pesky foreigners, we like to spend a good five minutes to look at the menu, and discuss with our companions what we should order. Meanwhile, your waiter looks like he's about to pee himself as he shifts from foot to foot in anticipation.

Finally, you order your meal, and while you're waiting, another foreigner walks in and gives you what we have affectionately come to call the "gaijin nod." The gaijin nod is a mysterious thing. It's your acknowledgement of the other person who is not Japanese in a sort of "hey, we'll band here together brother" but you also realize that you are in no way related and do not have permission to talk to that person. Inevitably though, they'll strike up some conversation with you about where you've been, and if you have any suggestions on the rest of the city. This act of striking up a conversation with a stranger who is not at your table further confuses the staff.

Your meal arrives and the real fun begins. If this restaurant never or rarely sees foreigners, they cannot help but stare in an odd sort of fascination. "Will they know how to eat it?" and "Will they be able to use chopsticks?" seem to be the most prevalent questions here. The answer to both question is normally yes of course, and if not, you'll try your best in order to avoid embarrassment.

In another amazing feat of skill, the Japanese can manage to eat their food quickly. Though this is probably due to relatively a lack of talking and just focusing on food. But you know, we like to linger on our food outside of Japan. So we take half an hour to eat what most Japanese would be done with in 10 or 15 minutes. We also like to drink more than one cup of tea while we're eating. Asking for that extra cup is sometimes painful and exceptionally difficult to receive, but we do it with such frequency that the serving staff doesn't seem to know what to do. Add on the extra half hour that we spend talking to each other when our meal is finished, and it's no wonder restaurants begin to feel ambivalent to foreigners...

Michelle

Fushimi Inari Taisha (伏見稲荷大社)

For months, I've been asking friends, boyfriend, everyone that I meet to go with me to Fushimi Inari Taisha  （伏見稲荷大社）. The normal answer is something the lines of, "Michelle, it's on the edge of Kyoto. It's too far. It's a full day trip. Go another day." So for months, I've given in. But finally, with a couple month break, and nothing better to do than to spend time with friends, experience Japanese culture, and work on my language skills, I finally had the time to convince both Jazmin and Kengo to go with me the famous shrine.

For those of you that aren't familiar with the name, Fushimi Inari is a shrine devoted to the god Inari, who is the god of fertility, rice, agriculture, etc. in Shinto. The shrine itself is known for being one of the biggest in Kyoto, and definitely one of the biggest, if not the biggest, shrine to Inari in Japan. It's most famous though for the fact that it has a row of red torii gates, which lead around the mountain. These are donated by companies especially for good fortune. The whole focus on Fushimi Inari began in 965 or so in the Heian period. During this time, the Emperor Murakami decided to have all official documents reported to the gods. Fushimi Inari was of course included in the list of important shrines. Inari is also tied closely with foxes because these were believed to be Inari's messenger of choice. It has been hypothesized that this is due to the fact that during the planting and harvesting seasons, foxes would move into the farms to search for more food, etc., and this eventually came to be associated with the god Inari. Whether this is true or not is still up for debate though.

So with the history lesson over, let's move to some pictures.

We decided to walk the mountain trail, which takes about 2-3 hours, because we honestly had nothing better to do. Unfortunately for Kengo, he had run earlier in the morning, so walking up thousands of steps didn't sound like the best idea to him. Luckily though, we were able to persuade him, so we headed off up to Mount Inari.

The beginning of the walking adventure. Note how there are no steps here.

Over time, it got to be more like this, which is when we realized our mistake. We had already climbed so many steps by this point that it would been pointless to turn back. In fact, I think Kengo ran it for a while, but then he realized that it was getting steeper and the steps weren't stopping, so we waited for a bit.

At the top of the mountain. Note all the small sub-shrines surrounding the main shrine.

As we were walking back, it started to get darker. We grabbed some dinner, which was a classic kitsune-udon （きつねうどん）, which is a fried tofu slice inside a bowl of udon noodles.

Overall, it was a really great day.

Michelle