Geisha watching was fascinating, but perhaps slightly more so in warmer weather. Connor was no longer sure if the tenseness in his shoulders was from the anticipation or the chill in the air. He allowed that it also was due at least in some part to the shrieks and gasps he would hear every time there was an almost sighting. His group had seen one maiko, or apprentice geisha, duck into a corner store, which was odd to see a girl in a silk kimono at the counter of a store, and seen another in a flash as she darted down a side alley. Finally, a moment presented itself and the full marvel truly was revealed.
If the wait had resembled an extended period in captivity, then the eventual appearance of two geisha walking the length of the long road towards them was like watching the parting of the Red Sea. These two women shuffled, gliding as if on air, towards Connor and the rest of his group. Only the scraping of wood sandals against the ground confirmed that both were earthbound. For all of the people who wanted to be so close to these women, no one dared to actually stand in their way. These two were not at all like the girl who the group had seen before. The woman on the right had the prettier of the two faces, her features frozen beneath a sheet of white powder. Her cream kimono was worn over another white robe. She wore a thick orange colored sash with an intricate tile pattern which shimmered like fish scales wrapped around her. She carried what appeared to be a box covered in a blanket or roll of some kind, maybe a pillow or musical instrument. Her perfect wig was accentuated by a dark, wooden hair band. Her eyes were amazingly lifelike compared to the mysterious quiet of the rest of her face. Even her blood red lips seemed painted in place, not simply covered.
The woman on the left, who was closer to Connor, wore a mint green kimono which had white and orange flowers embroidered on it. She wore pink flowers in her hair and was wrapped in a copper band with shiny maroon ribbing. She was noticeably older, though only in her eyes. The funny thing was that here this made her more attractive. Geisha were to seem ageless, yet they were also masters of so many things that a slightly older and wiser woman seemed more authentic for the role. What a change from America's obsession with barely legal performers (who could barely, if ever perform), Connor thought. Connor quickly took a picture of the two geisha as they were maybe ten feet away and then tried to take another as they walked directly by him. It was the second picture which would remain with him forever as a reminder of his time in Japan.
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Connor sat in his hotel room in Kyoto and looked back through the pictures he had taken earlier that evening on the screen of his camera. He had pictures of the guide, a school where geisha would learn to perform and a doorway with three sets of wooden sandals set just inside. He had pictures of the name plate signs which were the way to tell which geisha was working where at any given time and if a certain woman was available for hire that night. Finally, he reached his two geisha pictures. The first, as they approached was nothing special. It looked almost surreal though, like the picture of a Rembrandt taken on a disposable camera might have. The focus was perfect and the eyes and lips and colors of the kimonos were all easy to see. The alleyway, which Connor remembered having been dark, appeared artificially lit from all of the flashes that had popped simultaneously. It was the kind of all too normal picture that would take him back to this place for years to come, but it wouldn't mean nearly as much for him as it might mean to others.
The second picture didn't come out as he had planned. He had snapped it hoping his camera's flash could recharge in time, but clearly it had failed. What Connor saw now was all blurs. The blur of two kimonos, the blur of flowers set against jet black wigs and blurry lines of movement as their bodies twisted with that step. What Connor could not have possibly planned was that as he had turned to try to take the picture, the backdrop for this failed shot had become a blurring of old and new. In it were the geisha, but also the traffic buzzing across the street which they were preparing to cross. In the picture Connor could see a crosswalk and two sports utility vehicles, one silver, one white. Also easy to make out were the neon lights across the street. These time-honored geisha appeared smeared on the image as a picture of a ghost might were they trapped in this modern world. From that moment on, it was this picture that would come to represent Maruko and Osaka as Connor looked back at it for years to come. As he focused on the blurry image on the screen, Connor spoke out loud.
"Maruko. If I can be something that helps to bridge these two ages, these two worlds that you inhabit, please may I be found worthy, may I earn the trust you've offered me and may I," he stopped for a second, stroked his finger against the view screen of the camera and corrected himself, "may we do something truly wonderful with all of this."
Connor turned over and turned out the light. His train back to Osaka was in the morning and no matter what was to come next, he knew he had a date in his immediate future. He hadn't been so eager, nervous or truly at peace with whatever was to come in a very long time.
