The city of Uji lies on the southern outskirts of Kyoto, along the banks of the Uji river. Visitors are drawn by its Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples, and for literary buffs, its role in the Tale of Genji. It's also known for producing superior quality green tea, and is home to the oldest tea shop in Japan, and possibly the world--the Tsuen tea shop.

We didn't know any of this going there. As far as we were concerned, we were in Kyoto, the old capital of Japan, which allegedly had lots of old cultural things and was very pretty. Also, Rurouni Kenshin was set here. And geishas.

We took the Shinkansen from Tokyo station to Kyoto station one early morning, and after a pleasant and smooth train ride (and a breakfast of Muji bread and convenience store onigiri), were picked up by our cousins and friend. Our cousins had a car, so we all piled in and they carted us off to Uji.

First things first: the Uji river is lovely. Of the set of photos my sister took of our trip, the pictures of this place are what impress me the most. The scene looks like a painting: the backdrop of tree-filled hills, the curve of the riverbank, and the paper lanterns dancing in the wind. Add a scattering of sakura, and it makes a beautiful, quiet picture of semi-rural Japan.

We took photos on Uji bridge, but sadly, missed the statue of Murasaki. It was all very random: arrive at beautiful place. Scatter. Take photos of everything. My cousin: "I don't know what we're doing, but it's pretty good."

I tried a green tea bun with azuki bean filling. It was all right.



We visited Byodo-in Temple next, which was built during the Heian period. The temple is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and was formerly the villa of a courtier before it became a Buddhist temple. We were greeted by cherry blossom trees going in. I must mention that it was a rapturous event every single time we came across a sakura tree. Our Japan trip was set in mid-April, and in Tokyo, that meant the first wave of cherry blossoms was over--the delicate 2 or 3 petal variety everyone loved. Fortunately, that was not the case in Kyoto. The landscape wasn't teeming with pale pink blooms anymore, but we found some late bloomers in here and there.



What do I say about Byodo-in? Well, it was aesthetically breathtaking, which can be said about a lot of the structures in Japan. I envy this country's art culture. There were a lot of tourists milling around, and the Phoenix Hall itself (pictured) was only accessible if you bought a special ticket. We opted for the regular ticket, which granted us access to the temple museum, which was underground. Buddhist artefacts and artwork were on display, and I do remember a rather impressive beaten-metal relief of several deities. We spent around an hour and a half at Byodo-in Temple, before piling back into the family van to grab some lunch on the way to Nara.



From japan-guide.com: Uji Bridge is a 5-10 minute walk north of JR Uji Station or just south of Keihan Uji Station.

Byodoin
Renge-116 Uji
Kyoto Prefecture 611-0021
Japan

Photos by the illustrious Abby Portugal

Insadong: Laden with souvenirs, both kitschy and not.

Left: Seafood Pasta & Bada Pasta

It was Sunday, and we'd woken up too late to catch the English worship service at a church in Gangnam, so we opted to attend the one at Yongnak Church, which is near Myeongdong. The service there was at around 3pm though, so we used the morning to venture out to Bukchon Village. Bukchon is a neighborhood of traditional houses or hanoks, grouped together in a hilly area, producing winding stone-paved alleys and hidden doorways. The higher areas gave us a view of the tiled rooftops of the rest of the village, and it was indeed picturesque.


 We discovered several shops hidden in the corners--there was one promoting traditional Korean handicrafts. After walking around the area for a good bit, we headed to one of the busier streets lined with various souvenir shops and restaurants. It was lunch time, so the place was pretty busy. We ate in an unremarkable pasta x rice meal place (I forgot the name, but it was a chain). After lunch, we decided to head to Yongnak.

Yongnak, as I mentioned earlier, is in the Myeongdong area, and kind of "near" Namsan tower (we could see it in the distance). We got lost on the way, so I stopped by a Domino's to ask for directions. Koreans are generally very friendly and the pair behind the counter were quite helpful--Yongnak was a few blocks away, on the other street that made up the corner Domino's was on. The church building itself wasn't hard to miss. Yongnak is apparently one of the older churches in Seoul, and the mother church of our former pastor, who now heads the Yongnak chapter in Toronto.



After church, we headed to Dongdaemun for some shopping, but didn't get anything (it was a lazy Sunday evening), and passed by the Cheonggyechon river after.

Day 4 - Nami Island

According to my sister's Korean friends, Filipinos who travel to Korea seem so proud that they'd visited Nami Island, it being the set of the 2004 drama Winter Sonata. The only K-drama we were into that time was My Girl, but the loveliness of the island (especially in early Autumn) was apparent even without getting the drama references.

We took the train from Hongik station to Gapyeong station--transferring lines in between--and then took a cab from there to the ferry area. It was interesting because you could observe the decline in cosmopolitan-ness of the passengers, the farther away from Seoul we traveled. At one point there was an old lady peddling snacks down the aisles of the cart. Boarding the ferry to Namiseom Island, I noticed we were with the locals--kids on a field trip, vacationing couples, families. The leaves were lovely shades of orange and red, and our tummies were grumbling for lunch.


 After taking loads of pictures, we decided on eating at a pizza place further into the park. There were lots of things going on around us: kids were running and screaming in playgrounds, people were biking on single bikes, tandem bikes and passenger seat bikes, eating ice cream, eating street food. We got some ice cream after lunch and decided to walk around and explore some more. There was also an exhibit set up by a foundation.

Eventually, the siblings and I decided to rent bikes. We paid the deposit fee because we didn't have any valid card-sized ID on us. The guy at the bike renal place was getting pretty frustrated with me, haha. But after I shelled out the moolah and we got our bikes, everything was A-ok. We biked down towards the coast, where there were rafts for rent. We also found a nice open field bordered by yellow trees, where we biked around in circles. It was great to feel the cool air and the grass under wheels.

 After turning our bikes in, we were pretty tired. We walked around more, took more pictures (it isn't ever year you get to experience Fall!) and waited till darkness settled around the island. People were getting on the ferry, and it was time to go home.

Getting off Hongik station, we wandered around the Hongdae area looking for a place to eat. Of course, the delicious memory of our first night's samgyeupsal was beckoning us to try out more of that delicious grilled stuff--so we did. Sadly, it wasn't as good as our late night middle of the road experience, but it did fill our tummies. All hail the bacon.

We walked towards Studio 41st afterwards. Mom wanted some coffee, so we ducked into a cute, hipstery coffee shop on the way back. It was called Jass Cafe, and its shelves were laden with painted figurines; its walls were hung with art posters and illustrations. The coffee was pretty good. I got a peppermint latte. The girl manning the counter had a strong Californian accent; I commented on her good English and she mentioned she was from Los Angeles--although you could tell that it wasn't her first language.

Anyway, good coffee, pretty shop. A full meal was a nice way to end a pleasant but long day.

The second day of the trip started bright and early, with our usual organic breakfast and the smell of it sticking to our clothes. Dad booked a tour to the DMZ through the hostel the night before - the Demilitarized Zone rests at the border between North and South Korea and is home to a number of commemorative areas, a viewdeck, and a train station that seems to be perched on the edge of the world. It was all very interesting, and good reminder of the country's current, if sometimes taken for granted tensions with its hostile half.

Ribbons containing messages for loved ones.

Imjingak Station - the first stop

Dorsan Observatory - Here we were able to see a propaganda village with NK's flag flying high. Buildings are deserted, though. One of the many for show faces of a highly secluded country.

The bright, hopeful spot in this tumultuous history lesson was Dorsan station, which the South Koreans hope to connect to Pyeongyang. It struck me as highly unlikely, but the nearly deserted train station is a symbol: SoKor is positioning itself as the forgiver, the initiator, the straight sibling. Watchful, correct, hopeful that one day NoKor will wake up and come to its senses.

At some point, we were taken to one of several tunnels the North Koreans dug from their side. It was funny and tiring and I was a bit envious of the senior citizens who got their own tram-things. But the tunnel walk, (and climb) made for good exercise after a few hours of being stuck in the bus.

After the tour was over, we got down somewhere near Gyangbokgung Palace (and the Cheonggyecheon stream, which came highly recommended by the guidebooks and the slightly scruffy globetrotting Australian (was he an Australian?) who was also on the tour. But it was Nanta for us that evening.


What I liked most about Nanta was its energy and ability to make you laugh uncontrollably. And the fact that good music, kitchen antics and humor transcend all language barriers. All hail the Sexy Chef.

It began with ~organic~ breakfast at Studio 41st, where we met up with Tita Young Kim shortly after. She brought us a couple of sim cards, five T-money cards and lots of helpfulness. She asked me about our itineraries and offered some suggestions. We had a bit of trouble with the sims because they wouldn't work on any of our phones at first. After repeatedly inserting the things / restarting our phones, we found it only worked on mine. (Yay for you, Samsung.)



We then walked to Hongik University station and set out for Gwanghwamun Square.

The day was sunny and the air was cool. Coming up from the station, the first thing I noticed was this massive building to our left -- apparently the Sejong Center for the Performing Arts. Nice and massive, with a bunch of event posters out in front. The large green island of Gwanghwamun Square stretched out before us, with King Sejong and then the palace. To the south was another statue of the Turtle Ship General (I never got his name).



After a few pictures and weirdness above ground, we went under King Sejong's statue to check out his museum. It was all right. There was a lovely throne, a ceiling full of constellations, various dioramas and interactive displays. I appreciated the man's intelligence--I wish I could read hanggul; it really is a prettily written language.

We went into another part of the museum, which was all about the Turtle ship. You could play a shooting game, pretending to be onboard the turtle ship. Or build the turtle ship out of wooden blocks, and make lots of turtle ship battle formations! And then we grew hungry, had lunch. There are a bunch of restaurants on the second floor of the museum. We picked one that served shabu-shabu, and were extremely grateful that Tita Young was there to help us with the language barrier. The restaurant manager--maybe in his fifties--was attentive and patient, helping us mix things and snerking (not in a bad way) at our cluelessness. But it was pretty good. We had two servings of seafood & beef shabu-shabu. The parents and I had the spicy variant, while the siblings and Tita Young had the none-spicy one.















We were done with lunch a little past 2pm, and just missed the changing of the guard at Gyangbokgung Palace! And consequently, the scheduled English tour as well. But no matter. We took some photos with the poker-faced guards in fantastic outfits. We particularly liked one guard's headdress with two feathers sticking out. There was an official chasing away some tourists who were posing 'non-seriously' with the guards. My parents got to take one funny photo while he wasn't looking, hurrah.

This palace is pretty huge. I think we went through three courtyards before deciding to take off on our own and find the National Folk Museum of Korea. Finding that involved a lot of walking around as well. We went through a couple of exhibits about Korea's history, and one about its crafts. I'm not quite sure how else to describe a couple of hours in a museum--we ran into a Thai tour group, tried out the vending machine, took mirror selfies in ancient mirrors, and checked out the drums, divider screens, ornate silken robes behind the glass panels.


We left the museum in the late afternoon, and decided to check out the hypercrazy shopping district of Myeongdong. While we were walking to the station, we noticed a South Korean flag crossed with a Philippine flag on each of the streetlights. Evidence of Noynoy! He arrived the same day we did, to purchase some planes.

It's interesting how Gyangbokgung is framed by mountains on one side, and skyscrapers on the other. I love how old and new structures grow inside the same space. Though dwarfed by tall glassy buildings, the palace maintains its authenticity and relevance, standing majestic against the mountains. The past is clearly of great value to the South Koreans; perhaps this is because so much of it was lost during the split with NK (more on that in the next post).



Tita Young had somewhere to go that afternoon as well, so we said goodbye to her when we got off at Myeongdong station. Upon exiting, we were swept up in the lights, the sounds, the smells and the retail madness. We went into a bunch of shoe stores looking for stuff for mom. The people of Seoul do love their colorful footwear. Didn't find any that were her style, though. There were makeup stores at every corner, alternating with apparel stores and restaurants, and sales people hanging out, yelling at the passing crowd and waving products. Unfortunately, we were pretty beat after all the walking around Gyangbokgung, so we didn't hold up very long in Myeongdong. Mom and Dad bought some candied sweet potato (yay, Kamote) and I got one of those spirally potato chip sticks. Abby bought an album for her friend, and the parents dropped by the Nanta theater to inquire about tickets. We spent a long while in there. After that, we walked to Chungjeongno station (going through the Lotte department store and the Myeongdong underground shopping complex I believe) and brought our tired selves home to the Studio 41st neighborhood.

We ate at one of those sit-on-the-floor places (shoes off!) which only had three things on the English menu. We ordered all three. I had all-veggie Bibimbap, Dad had some kind of spicy soup, and everyone else had this fried fish dish. An old man from the next table was staring at us, as was a child from another table (clad in a neon yellow tracksuit!) Either we stuck out so horribly (despite not being white) or I was being offensive by not having any socks on. D: (not sure!)

Things I learned:

- Korean royalty had enough space on their thrones to lounge comfortably.
- Better socks than sorry.
- The cast of Nanta are named accordingly: Head Chef, Nephew, Manager, Female, Sexy Chef.
- The Sexy Chef must always have a moustache.
- Do not jaywalk in front of the main palace! We saw some foreigner-men in suits attempting this, and the guard immediately called them out.

Seoul is, to me, a city of palaces, ancient gates and skyscrapers, street-food tents, neon signs and the smoke of barbecue, subway trains and permed ajummas, helpful ajussis, kimchi and T-money. And let's not forget the sparkling, round-eyed celebrities, cozy coffee shops and the sea of striped shirts, thick black frames and chic army jackets.

The family decided to go somewhere special this semester break, due to the fact that we all now have a week to spare in October. Ab, Mom and Pat had their two weeks off, Dad took a leave, and I, the unemployed one, never felt so good about being unemployed.

Summer began at the end of April. After fainting a few minutes into the Batch 2013 university grad, doing last-minute pasalubong shopping for everyone at Kultura (thank God for that store) and lying sweaty and sleepless on my cousin's bed, staring listlessly at the blue ceiling-shadows awaiting 3am, I was whisked off by giant white air-conditioned van, by porter-trolley, conveyor belt and pat-down guard, carry-on stroller wheels, diaper bag and smiling Delta airline employees to the large plane that would rattle through the sky and bring us, eyebagged and excited, to the United States.

I went with my Aunt and cousins on the month-long trip. Traveling from mid-May to mid-June, we visited relatives from my Dad's side of the family, spending a couple of weeks in Washington, and then the rest in California. I was excited, and a little apprehensive. America--it had been a while. I hadn't seen the people there in five years, and others, in ten. Would it be alienating, uncomfortable, magical? I remember being amazed, as a child, at the pizza slices as big as your face, the quarter pounders I couldn't finish, the cold bite of the air and the accented everything.

We stopped over in Japan first, and I strolled around Narita airport with my little girl cousin, from hereon to be referred to as Mishie. We beheld the multi-functioned toilets and immense line at McDonald's, the display of green tea KitKat and the Studio Ghibli merchandise. We each bought a Totoro, despite Mishie not knowing what it was. I tried my best to inform her, at any rate.

The Emerald Cities

One 11-hour flight later, we heaved our suitcases (ten for four people) off the carousel and greeted Uncle Dwight and Auntie Istin, who loaded our stuff into the family minivan. I strapped Angelo into his "special chair" (the carseat), buckled myself up and off we drove, into a new concrete-and-greenery world. Seattle and Tacoma are referred to as twin cities, emerald cities. (Or is it just Seattle that's considered 'emerald?) According to my cousin, the emerald is because of the abundance of trees, caused by the abundance of rain.

"If you don't go out because it's raining, you'll never go out."

So go out we did. Auntie Istin drove us everywhere. We went to the zoo, the beach, the thrift shop, onto a ferry, onto an island, to the little towns that surrounded Puyallup. We went to Seattle a handful of times, ate glorious seafood, saw the ports and the fishing boats and the daylight shining in the water at 7:00 pm. It was Starbucks every other day, and ice cream just as often. I ordered, in perpetua, green tea latte. For Angelo and Mishie, it was always cookies and cream.

Puyallup is the suburbs. Everything out on that end was large and wide--winding roads, fields, the constant texture of trees, bushes and flowering shrubs. You can't commute anywhere. The city is at least a twenty-minute drive away, and there is always the patter of raindrops on the windshield. There were one-storey structures, some apartment buildings, lumber yards, places selling playground equipment and cars. We drove up to someone's house on a hill, and saw the ocean and the fishing boats that went all the way to Alaska. They have a really nice children's hospital, where we visited the newest member of the Portugal clan, baby Xavier.

Day 2 had us up early in time for a 7am private tour, which the parental units booked through the hotel. Our guide was the ever-talkative and informative Mister Cong, a skinny, slightly balding man clad in a long-sleeved white polo, black slacks and leather shoes. He used to be a physics teacher, but traded that in for the life of tour guiding, due to the dismal pay.