Shopping at church

Amanda left this morning, so I mapped out a plan of things I wanted to see before she took her Lonely Planet book. Just as I was set to go, however, the sweet old lady at the front desk told me, "Today, you go Toji free market." Not to argue, I headed there instead. It wasn't a far trip from our hotel.

I'm glad I took her advice. The booths were packed in tightly and spilled through the gates of the temple and out along the streets on every side of the temple. People milled among a maze of pathways. I let myself get lost in it all, browsing through each booth, stopping to watch the women in kimonos or the monks who stood chanting at the gates. It was muggy today, maybe 75 degrees. I could feel the tips of my shoulders turning pink and my shopping bags were soon rubbing my arms raw. On Saturday morning, I had enough Japanese Yen for food and a train ticket to Osaka. Soon I was trimming off my food reserve, then I broke down and spent my train ticket money. That's what ATMs are for, right?



Despite the commotion of the market, the temple still drew worshipers. Men and women threw their coins in the signature boxes in front, bowing to the alters, or kneeled on the tatami mats within the open doorways.



After two hours and traveling back and forth, I was exhausted. I lingered a little too long in my hotel room for a rest, so I just missed the closing of a temple on the other side of town. Instead, I wandered around in another shopping area, this one more modern. The women to watch in this area were clad in high heels, knee high socks and mini skirts, their designer bags slung over their arms. The tunnels through the stores could have been a run way.

I had dinner at a small restaurant near by my hotel, striking up a conversation with the waitress when she had moments in between her tables. She told me that market is only once a month, so I was lucky to catch it.

Lesson learned: The Toji free market is all the elements of Japanese culture wrapped into one venue.