In the 2021 documentary featuring Fran Lebowitz chatting with Martin Scorsese about New York City, she roles her eyes as only she can do and laments the misbehavior of other people—often tourists—who are blithely unaware of the people around them.
Pretend it’s a city, Lebowitz deadpans to the camera.
The citizens of Kyoto, in their highly polite way, are more or less saying the same thing. Posters hanging everywhere teach behavior to me and my fellow tourists. Mind your manners in the temple, one implores. Take off your shoes. Don’t litter. Don’t smoke. Don’t photograph the monks. On the metro, hold your backpack to make room for others. And always, on every sign, there is the reminder to hush.
I’m reminded of the posters I used to make for my Kindergarten classroom.
Is this necessary? I harrumph under my breath. Do adult tourists need all these didactic prods like my bevy of beloved five-year-olds?
Yes. I regret to tell you, we do. I’ve been observing my fellow sightseers in Kyoto, and we can be entirely unaware of how loud we are. We block walkways and metro cars with our suitcases and backpacks and sweaty selves. (It’s really hot here in September. Everyone is sweaty.) We can be so involved with our tourism agendas that we can forget that people also live here, trying to get to where they’re going.
While hiking up the sacred Mount Inari today, amidst the marvel of the thousands of bright orange torii gates leading steeply uphill, there was a vending machine at a bend in the trail. Printed on the flap where thirsty walkers could retrieve their purchased drinks, there was this handwritten request: Please refrain from placing your trash in here.
You know that sign is there because somebody did that.
It was written in English.
Nearby, a tourist had picked up a container of coins that worshippers had dropped in. He was giving it a vigorous shake while commenting to his companion on its contents. Meanwhile, a man standing a few paces away, at the altar of one of the many Shinto shrines dotting the mountainside, was attempting to pray.
This, I realized, is exactly why there are so many signs.
Perhaps there aren’t enough.