What Is It And How Do I Cook It: Persimmons

It's fall in our corner of Japan!  The air is crisp, the night sky is bright, and my neighbors' persimmon trees are dripping with bright, orange fruit.  Persimmons seem like something Martha Stewart would showcase in a recipe for fall- difficult to find and nobody knows what to do with them. But on Japan's Kanto Plain, persimmons are everywhere. Grocery stores are currently piled high with this classic symbol of fall!  

I have to admit that in almost three years here, I've never gotten around to trying a persimmon; but, Little TF has a new book of Japanese fairy tales and in one of the stories, a monkey steals the fruit from a persimmon-loving crab.  Little TF insisted we buy a persimmon as soon as they arrived in stores so she could be a crab.  

Persimmons aren't just for storybook crabs, though! In addition to being beautiful, persimmons are high in fiber and Japanese studies suggest they may have anti-aging benefits.  Persimmons came to Japan from China, and the Japanese variety of persimmon was first introduced to the United States when Commodore Perry returned from his trip to Japan in 1852.  

After coming home with our persimmon, I began the hunt for persimmon recipes. An idea to make persimmon butter came from somewhere...probably Pinterest. During deployment, I am all about doing things the easiest way possible, and nothing is easier than my slow cooker. To that end, I googled "persimmon butter slow cooker recipes" and headed back to the store for more persimmons.

Persimmons are ripe when they are extremely orange and slightly soft to the touch. These squatty
persimmons are of the "fuyu"variety. Japanese grocery stores also sell acorn-shaped "hachiya" persimmons.

Spiced Persimmon Butter Recipe

1. Wash, peel and coarsely chop 20 fuyu persimmons.  I like fruit spreads that have a bit of texture, so I left the peel on my persimmons.  Peeling also takes the persimmon prep from 5 minutes to a long time, and who wants to do more prep?

Cut a persimmon in half so that you can admire its pretty center.

 
2.  Place persimmons in a slow cooker.  They should fill it a 3 qt. cooker nearly to the top.  Drizzle lemon juice over the persimmons and cook on high for two hours. Mash the persimmons and sprinkle with cinnamon and cloves and sugar. Set cooker to low and cook for eight hours, or to high and cook for five hours.


3.  Transfer the hot persimmon mixture to a blender and and puree in batches until smooth.

That's it.  Maybe the easiest thing I've ever made in my slow cooker.  And certainly one of the most delicious. I scooped some Haagen Daz Vanilla Bean ice cream and drizzled the hot persimmon butter over the top.  Oh. My.  Definitely not sharing with any crabs.

Celebrating the end of another deployment day!

If you're feeling extra energetic, hang your persimmons outside your house to dry.  Dried persimmons, or hoshigaki, are a traditional, New Year's gift in Japan.  If you wander around a Japanese neighborhood during autumn, you can see drying persimmons hanging from balconies or outside windows!


Ingredients:
20 fuyu persimmons                        1/4 tsp cloves
1 lemon, juiced                                1/4 cup, plus a few tablespoons granulated sugar.
1 tsp ground cinnamon


Notes: 
While the recipe calls for 20 persimmons to fill a 3 qt cooker, I nearly filled my 6.5 cooker with only eleven persimmons.  I wonder if persimmons are larger in Japan? 
The original recipe called for agave syrup instead of white granulated sugar.  I preferred to use the ingredients I had on hand, so I used an conversion table to get an approximate substitution amount with the sugar.

For the recipe with agave syrup and instructions on how to can your persimmon butter, click here.  The persimmon butter is so delicious, though, that you might eat it all before you get a chance!


Disclaimer:  I do my best to make sure all my information is accurate.  However, details may change or I may just be flat-out wrong.  Please let me know if something needs a correction.  Thank-you! 

Today's Photo (Hair, Sumo-Style)

A wrestler's hair is styled into the traditional chonmage for a demonstration during
Yokohama's October showcase sumo tournament.  Wrestlers wear this hairstyle until they
retire, at which point the topknot is ceremonially cut off. 

The Chrysanthemums Are Coming!

Shinjuku-gyoen's famous Chrysanthemum Festival was on my "must see" list last autumn.  My students laughed at me. "I think there will be a lot of old people there..."giggled one.  Chrysanthemums- stupendously boring flowers that State-side florists use to fill out cheap arrangements- are not so boring in Japan.  Not only is the chrysanthemum the symbol of Japan's imperial family; during the autumn season, Japanese gardeners exhibit chrysanthemum plants that seem to defy laws of nature.  I had to see them!

Every November, Shinjuku-gyoen (Shinjuku Park) puts on one of Tokyo's most well-known chrysanthemum displays.  Most appropriate, as this park used to belong to the imperial family. Post-WWII, the gardens were handed over the national government and designated as a public park.  With easy access from several train stations, huge swaths of grass for Little TF to run around, ponds full of koi, mossy tea houses, and muted city noise, Shinjuku-gyoen is one of my favorite parks in Tokyo.

The chrysanthemum display locations were clearly marked on a helpful signboard.  Since the flowers were scattered throughout the whole park, this meant wandering delightfully landscaped trails, past stone lanterns, and over curving bridges.

The garden may be located in the heart of Tokyo's Shinjuku Ward, but its huge size makes city noise barely noticeable.

 Many of the official displays were located in protective, three-walled shelters, which were draped with purple fabric.  Similar fabric swags (manmaku) can be seen at shrines or private residences, hung to mark an auspicious occasion or important location.  Fortunately, crowds on this particular weekday morning were nonexistent, which meant I was able to admire the displays to my hearts' content.

I was a professional floral designer for eight years before taking a hiatus shortly before Little TF was born and now that we are in Japan.  I never, in all that time, saw chrysanthemums as varied or  enormous.

Very few...anything...in Japan is well-marked in English.  This is not really a complaint (it's not like the United States is a standard-bearer in dual language assistance).  After visiting other Asian countries, I've become aware that Japan's lack of English-labeling efforts- in conjunction with the number of its citizens who study the language- is a bit bizarre.  Not so at Shinjuku-gyoen's Chrysanthemum Festival! Every display had a very informative sign about the variety of flower on display.

In addition to perfectly straight rows of flowers, there were also beautiful teardrops and enormous half circles.   I had to keep reminding myself that these were plants.

In what is possibly the most amazing feat of gardening that I have ever seen, closer inspection of these enormous, domed plants revealed that each bush was grown from a single stem.

One stem in the middle of the plant.

 If you can't make it to Shinjuku-gyoen during the Chrysanthemum Festival, definitely check it out another time.  It's a great place to take young kids.  There is a children's garden, lots of fish begging to be fed, soft stretches of grass, and even a Chinese pavilion.  Pack a picnic lunch or eat at one of the small cafes.  During early spring, the park is renowned for its cherry blossoms.  Enjoy the tranquil garden views from one of the small tea houses.  I've never managed to catch a tea house actually open, but I hope you do!

The 2012 Chrysanthemum Festival is from November 1-15.  Last year, I went on opening day.  I saw plenty of flowers, but there were still many displays that had not yet bloomed.  I'd recommend going around the middle of the festival, depending on the weather.  Click here for admission times, parking information, and a few park rules.  There is an entrance fee of 200 yen for adults and 50 yen for school-age children.  Children six years old and younger are free. 

Shinjuku-gyoen is a short walk from Shinjuku Station (head out the East Exit) or Shinjuku-gyoenmae Station.  

Disclaimer:  I do my best to make sure all my information is accurate.  However, details may change or I may just be flat-out wrong.  Please let me know if something needs a correction.  Thank-you!

Why Does My Street Smell Like Tea?

It's mid-October, which means my street is once again filled with an incredibly sweet smell.  When I say "filled", I mean the scent from the outside is nearly as strong inside my third-floor apartment as it is at ground level.  I'm trying to figure out the best way to convey just how intense this fragrance is, and the only thing to which I can compare is the overpowering odor of a barnyard- only this is actually pleasant, of course. Poetic, I know. 

My sister-in-law came to visit me at this exact time last year, and she asked me what was causing the fragrance.  I told her it was tea, because I find the smell very similar to artificially green tea-scented items.  This year, though, when the smell came back, I realized that a scent this strong couldn't be caused by green tea.  Unless everyone was literally scrubbing the streets with green tea soap.  As my neighbors are always sweeping the gutters, digging up slippery moss on public sidewalks, and trimming their carefully shaped trees, street scrubbing would not surprise me.

As always, whenever I have an extremely urgent, Japanese culture question, I gave my friend a call.  "Why does my street smell like tea?!"  Not everyone smells tea, apparently, because it took a second for her to realize to what I was referring. "Oh!  That's kinmokusei!  It's a kind of tree that always blooms this time of year. It has a very strong smell, doesn't it?"

Armed with a name, I headed to Google and made this discovery, courtesy of Wikipedia.

Osmanthus fragrans (sweet osmanthus; Chinese: 桂花 guìhuā; Japanese: 金木犀 kinmokusei; also known as sweet olive, tea olive and fragrant olive) is a species of Osmanthus native to Asia, from the Himalaya east through southern China (Guizhou, Sichuan, Yunnan) and toTaiwan and to southern Japan.^[3][4] Sweet osmanthus is also the 'city flower' of Hangzhou, China.

Aha!  A tea olive tree!  I knew I smelled tea.  Once I knew I was looking for a flowering tree, I headed outside, only to realize that my neighborhood is chock-full of kinmokusei.  Just about every private garden has one.  I've been cycling Little TF to preschool past these blooming trees every day this week, and never noticed them!  A kinmokusei's incredibly fragrant, orange flowers are tucked behind smooth green leaves.  If you didn't know to look for the tiny flowers, you might not spot them.  Or maybe you would, and I'm just unobservant.  This is our third autumn here, after all!  

Time For Tea!

October has been sucking up all my extra time lately.  This is both good (quiet deployment evenings go by faster) and bad (less time to blog).  My tea instructor hosted a small tea gathering for me and another student a couple weeks ago, and I've been meaning to post some photos ever since.  So, without too much commentary, here they are.  :)

A wealthy family donated the land and money to build two tea houses in a neighboring town.  These tea houses are available for the community to rent.  We usually practice in a tatami room on the base, which is nice, but when our instructor hosts tea parties, she rents one of these tea houses.  For us to actually enjoy tea in a real tea house is a huge treat!  I still can't quite believe we've gotten to enjoy tea here.

Sado (or Chado), Tea Ceremony, is much more than just tea.  A full ceremony lasts several hours and includes a kaiseki meal, flower appreciation, decorative scroll appreciation, multiple bowls of tea, delicate treats, and...

...sake. Tea Ceremony just got a whole lot cooler!  Participants pour each other's sake into the shallow, red bowls and enjoy only after eating the fish portion of the kaiseki meal.

Post-meal, a small container of warm, flavored water is used to rinse off the chopsticks, and then the water is drunk by the guests (one container per guest).  I'm still getting used to drinking the water I used to rinse my chopsticks.

Then comes the portion we practice in class every week...eating yummy wagashi and preparing and drinking tea.  This pink wagashi's name is just as cute as it looks- "Princess Chrysanthemum."

This is the bowl of thin tea.  To Americans, this may seem a bit of a misnomer, as this tea is much thicker than anything we are used to.  The frothier the better!  The bowl is patterned with gnarled pine branches.  Pine are usually symbols of winter and the new year, but can also be used for a happy occasion (which our tea parties always are!).  Note the pattern on the inside of the bowl.  A pattern on the inside of the bowl marks this as a tea bowl, as opposed to some run-of-the-mill bowl that I'd find in my kitchen cupboard.  Be careful when handling tea bowls...they usually cost hundreds of dollars!

Disclaimer:  I do my best to make sure all my information is accurate.  However, details may change or I may just be flat-out wrong.  Please let me know if something needs a correction.  Thank-you!

Barbarians Like Fried Chicken.

I've almost finished reading Hitching Rides with Buddha, a fast-paced and entertaining autobiography that documents Will Ferguson's hitchhiking journey, from the southern tip of Japan to the northernmost island of Hokkaido.  Engrossed in Will's hilarious adventures as he follows the advancing cherry blossom front throughout Japan, I suddenly read something that made me sit up in shock.  

First, let's pause for a moment for a BIG GIANT DISCLAIMER here.  Lots of Americans in Japan will talk in the same breath about how kind and generous- but racist- the Japanese are.  I'm never comfortable with this talk, as dismissing an entire nation as "racist" is problematic, no matter which country is being discussed.  Yes, I've had Japanese students discuss their distaste for China. I've also had Japanese friends express sadness about the war crimes that Japan committed against China.  I've had a student tell me about how her friend refused to swim in a resort pool that was filled with Koreans, an action which my student then condemned in the next breath.  Restaurants may be allowed to display "No Foreigners Allowed" signs, but there are Japanese spouses of American servicemen who are trying to get our base to remove the slur, gaijin, from official orientation classes, as well as my Japanese tutor who is very careful to only use the respectful gaikokujin when our lessons discuss foreigners.  So my fellow Americans and I need to be very, very careful to not toss around phrases like, "the Japanese are so racist," because it's just as much of an ugly stereotype as "foreign men are dangerous." 

That being said, there are certain aspects of Japanese society that do reinforce the view that there are Japanese and then there are foreigners. Obvious examples are those afore-mentioned No Foreigners Allowed signs, the elderly man on the train who angrily stood up and moved across the train car when I took a seat next to him, the cartoon caricatures of foreigners with big noses, massive chins, and potbellies, or the television shows that specifically (and only) request someone blonde-haired and blue-eyed when their programs need a foreigner.  It's uncomfortable and hurtful, which brings us back to Hitching Rides with Buddha.

The part of the book that made me sit up was when Will Ferguson started talking about a delicious and popular dish in Japan- Chicken Nanban.   As the author described it, I recognized the recipe immediately, because I eat it.  Chicken Nanban is...well, it's tasty, fried chicken drizzled with mayonnaise.  I'll often visit our local grocery store to grab a bento box for lunch, and Chicken Nanban is on my regular rotation of delicious lunch bento.  I love Chicken Nanban. Yes, it's unhealthy.  Yes, it's lowbrow.  Yes, I'm kind of embarrassed to admit that I enjoy this dish (if you're making a face right now about the weirdness of drizzling mayonnaise over fried chicken, please read this post).  Chicken Nanban is this interesting sort of dish that is composed of Western ingredients, but not really recognizable as something that Westerners in the West actually eat, kind of like the Japanese tendency to put corn on pizza.  But the ingredients of Chicken Nanban, itself, aren't the problem...the problem is the name.

My Chicken Nanban bento from last week.  The rice and red pickled plum create
the "hinomaru" portion of the bento, which represents Japan's national flag.

When writing Nanban one must use two kanji.  The first kanji, 南 is the symbol for south.  The second kanji, 蛮, is the symbol for barbarian.  What we have here, Southern Barbarian, is the derogatory term that was used to describe the Portuguese and Dutch missionaries and merchants who first tried to open Japan for trade.  Apparently, those traders liked a lot of fried chicken and mayonnaise (presumably not together), which eventually led to the creation of Chicken Nanban. Of course, the trouble is that a slur from the 1500s (a time not known in any culture for its political correctness) is still in active use today.  That can be the trouble with learning Japanese. I learn things that are uncomfortable and now my enjoyment of Chicken Nanban has suddenly disappeared.  I start to feel awkward. When I exchange a cheerful ohayo gozaimasu with our corner veggie seller, is he quietly thinking, "barbarian"?  When Little TF is pitching a fit on the playground, do the other mommies look at me in sympathy?  Or do they talk amongst themselves about how ill-behaved foreign children are?  Do my neighbors know that my messy car is because my husband isn't home to help me pick up, or do they think it's because foreigners are dirty?  

But enough on accepted racial slurs in Japan. On the bright side, we Americans can smugly congratulate ourselves!  After all, it's not as if some Americans have ever stereotyped an entire racial group as one that loves fried chicken, or looked with suspicion on the ethnically different family that moved into the neighborhood!

For me, one of the most important parts of studying Japan is not just to learn about new ways of living life and new ways of appreciating beauty.  It's about learning that ugliness can be universal.  Japan holds a mirror up to my face, to reflect my culture and the ugly, hurtful things that I- through sheer familiarity- could be comfortable never noticing.

I had a lot of hesitation in writing this post.  As a white person, I understand that I'm writing this from a precarious position, and so I asked a (Japanese) friend to go over this post before I put it up.  She told me it was important to tell the bad along with the good of Japan. This is not a Japan-bashing post and any comments that are not kind and civil will not be published.  Thank-you for your respect and understanding.

Disclaimer:  I do my best to make sure all my information is accurate.  However, details may change or I may just be flat-out wrong.  Please let me know if something needs a correction.  Thank-you!

Flower Of The Dead.

One of the things I love most about Japan is how many flowers bloom in Japan, nearly year-round.  When we experienced our first Japanese autumn two years ago, I was enchanted by all the wild, red flowers that burst into bloom along roadsides and train tracks, as well as filling up all the local parks.  A friend of mine had told me something about them two years ago; yesterday, all I could remember is that these brilliant, crimson flowers somehow reminded her of cemeteries.  So I shot her an email this morning to see if she could jog my memory.  Fortunately for this blog, she did!

 "These flowers are called Higanbana (Cluster amaryllis, or red spider lily).  'Higan' means equinoctial week, which occurs twice a year.  We see these in September a lot, which makes them a symbol of the autumn Higan.  During equinoctial week, which lasts for three days at the spring and autumn equinoxes, people visit their ancestors' graves.  You can see the flowers at a lot of graves and cemeteries."  

A Google search also pulled up a few other interesting facts; due to its poisonous bulbs, the higanbana was apparently deliberately planted in graveyards to keep burrowing animals from eating the deceased (I'm not sure how accurate that fact is, as the Japanese cremate their dead.).  Also, because the leaves and flowers of this plant never appear at the same time, the higanbana is also said to symbolize lovers who are kept apart and cannot meet.  A great flower for deployment, then! Higanbana even make an appearance in Buddhism's Lotus Sutra as the flower which guides the dead through hell and to their next reincarnation.

Soooo...the red spider lily is not a happy plant, in spite of its beauty. I will continue to admire them anyways and keep them away from Little TF...I didn't know they were poisonous.  Yikes!


Disclaimer:  I do my best to make sure all my information is accurate.  However, details may change or I may just be flat-out wrong.  Please let me know if something needs a correction.  Thank-you!

Weird...Japan?

When I first started taking Tea Ceremony lessons, my understanding of it was stereotypically foreign.  "Tea Ceremony.  I learned all about it in grade school.  Tea Ceremony is that exotic, Japanese way to drink tea, right?  Sounds like fun!  Sign me up!"  I didn't realize that in taking Tea Ceremony lessons, I would be experiencing- weekly- an event that many Japanese never experience in their lifetime.  

When we host a Ceremony for base events, I- a woefully ignorant student of less than a year- am more well-versed in the procedure we are performing than many of our Japanese guests.  This was a shock for me.  So often, as a Westerner, I automatically exoticize Japan.  "Japan.  I love Japan! Land of kimono, hyper-new electronics, geisha, tranquil gardens, massive temples and heated toilet seats!  What's not to love?!  Or I sum Japan up in a few, stereotypical sentences. "The Japanese are so much more in tune with nature! The Japanese have such a higher appreciation for beauty! Japan is so weird!" 

In reality, the everyday of Japan is mostly filled with concrete, expensive energy, crammed public transport, cheap convenience stores, and brightly-lit supermarkets. Sounds a lot like...the United States. Girls follow the latest fashions, boys play baseball, kids go to school, adults go to work, everyone watch lots of television and spends too much time on their smartphones. The Japanese are not all that different from Americans, as it turns out.

Exoticizing is easy.  It requires little work.  I can pick and choose which things are worthy of my appreciation and which are not. Shrines?  Super fun!  We don't have shrines in the States, let's go! Uhhhhh... where to buy dish towels?  Do I really feel like hunting for dish towels? Forget it, I'll just order them on Amazon. Hunting for dish towels isn't exciting like hunting for shrines.

Japan deserves better than that from me.  

In exoticizing, I only push Japan and its people away.  When my search for the new and different causes me to lose interest in the everyday, then I have begun to cram Japan into a box I've stamped Other.  My understanding of Japan becomes warped and twisted into something a Japanese person would never recognize.  How weird would it sound to hear a Japanese visitor to America declare, "I love America! I saw the Liberty Bell and visited Colonial Williamsburg and went surfing in Hawaii.  Americans visit those places all the time! Quilting is so American...all American women must quilt, right? America is so dangerous, isn't it?  If you send your kid to America for an exchange program, she might get shot.  Would Canada be better?  Wouldn't such a conversation sound bizarre?  Would any American recognize those sentences as accurate descriptions of America?  I don't know about you, but I'd be just as excited to visit Hawaii as a Japanese tourist would be!  

So those are some of my thoughts.  When we move back to the States, and people ask, "How did you like living in Japan," will I perpetuate stereotypes and regale them with stories of Exotic Japan?  Or, instead, will I talk about how I learned that Japan isn't that different from the United States, after all?  

Turns out, when you live somewhere for awhile, "weird" doesn't look all that weird, anymore.

Even driving on the left side of the road isn't weird anymore!

Gallivanting Through Gion. (Part 1)

It was a Mommys' Day Out for some friends and me!  Right now, our deployed hubbies are cruising around Asia and stopping at exotic ports of call- sans children. Ok, fine, our husbands also work really really hard in between port calls, don't get a lot of sleep, and have to eat bad boat food.  It's not all fun and games (so I hear).  But it's easy to forget that while Skype-ing Mr. TF at his fancy Hong Kong hotel.  After our chat, he gets to head out for a delicious dinner with adults, while I look down and realize that I have just accidentally cut my dinner into bite-size pieces instead of Little TF's.  I hate it when I do that to my dinner.  It means that toddlerhood is taking over my brain.

So! Instead of moping around, I decided to be proactive.  Even if we couldn't budget a port call family vacation this time around, there are always reasonably priced MWR tours!  I love my kid like crazy and I usually drag her with me on the tours; but, after a few months of constant Mommy duty, we are both ready for a change of pace.  So my friend and I split a babysitter, booked an MWR day trip to Kyoto, and left this past Saturday at 3 am, secure in the knowledge that our children would safely be able to terrorize entertain someone else for the day!

Our tour's first stop was at Yasaka-jinja, which is also known as the Gion Shrine.  Yasaka-jinja is where Kyoto's very, very famous Gion Matsuri festival takes place every July.  Originally built in 656 AD (so...not very long ago), the shrine is dedicated to Susanoo, the brother of Amaterasu Omikami (the Sun Goddess), his wife, and eight children.  Susanoo is somehow related to medicine, which is why the Gion Festival was created when Yasaka-jinja's chief priest paraded through the city, seeking divine relief from a vicious plague. 

The shrine's entrance and torii gates are painted a brilliant shade of vermillion- also known as "Kyoto red"- which made taking photos a enormous pleasure!

Inside the shrine complex are smaller shrines to other Shinto kami, as well as the shrine's main buildings.  As luck would have it, while we admired the ancient halls and gates, we stumbled upon a beautiful, morning wedding!

Such a cute couple

It's not a Very Important Japanese Event without a photographer.  In this case, there were two photographers, lugging at least four, massive cameras between them.  Then our tour group arrived, and this poor couple had to smile for about 30 more cameras.  I justify my voyeurism by remembering the hundreds of photos and video of a blonde, blue-eyed Little TF that are scattered across mainland Japan.  Sorry, cute wedding couple. Japan takes a bazillion photos of my stereotypically Caucasian kid, so I take photos of Japan!

These elegant women are perhaps the mothers of the cute couple.  They are wearing black kimono with patterned hems and five white crests (three on the back, two on the front), which are the highest of ceremonial kimono.  They are worn at weddings by female relatives of the bride, whose relationship to the bride is the most socially important.

In this photo, please note that the men are fully outfitted in morning suits.  Morning suits. Welcome to Japan, where Western clothing conventions are observed even more strictly than they are in the West.

As we snapped photos of the wedding, a miko, or Shrine Maiden, passed by.  Our tour guide informed us that she was helping with preparations for the shrine's otsukimi event. Historically, miko were once considered to be shamans, but their role is now more institutionalized. I often see miko selling a shrine's good luck charms or painting calligraphy onto tourists' shrine books.  Miko's modern duties also include  performing traditional dances and telling fortunes.

The omikuji at Yasaka Shrine were tied onto trees that lined one of the paths.

Of course, one of the best features of Yasaka-jinga/Gion Shrine, is its location- Gion.  Those of you who have read Arthur Golden's famous Memoirs of a Geisha probably recognize the name. Gion is the most famous home of those female artists that the West still insists on exotifying and misunderstanding.

To be continued...

To get to Yasaka Shrine, Japan-guide.com recommends these routes: Yasaka Shrine can be reached by bus from Kyoto Station in about 20 minutes. Take number 100 or 206 and get off at Gion bus stop. The closest train stations are Gion Shijo Station on the Keihan Line and Kawaramachi Station on the Hankyu Line.Alternatively, the 20-30 minute walk from Kiyomizudera through the narrow lanes of the Higashiyama District to Yasaka Shrine is highly recommended. Disclaimer:  I do my best to make sure all my information is accurate.  However, details may change or I may just be flat-out wrong.  Please let me know if something needs a correction.  Thank-you!