Memoirs of a Cindy-geisha?

I really loved Kyoto.

Kyoto is the Japan you imagine in your dreams- old-style houses with tatami mats, narrow cobbled streets lined with cherry-blossoms, and geishas slipping from one appointment to the next.

Always fascinated in Japanese culture, I have read a lot of books about the mysterious geisha (or geiko as they are called in Kyoto), the famed Memoirs of a Geisha (a work of fiction) and another called Geisha by Liza Dalby, an account of an American woman who worked and lived alongside geishas in the 70's.

Something about the painted faces, their elegance, and the elaborately beautiful kimonos has always gotten me...and so when I went to Japan I wanted in! (Or as in as uncoordinated chubby Australian is ever going to get!)

Signage in front of Maiko. Not a word of English, but easily worked through

My trusty Lonely Planet guide recommended a company called Maica, who specialise in the geiko and maiko makeover experience. A maiko is an apprentice geisha, which many non-Japanese get mixed up. The image of the geiko in bright kimono with flowers in her hair is stunning, but is more likely to be a maiko. Geiko tend to have a more subdued appearance, with muted colours and less adornments.

Maica is quite easy to spot, despite not having a street number

I did a little bit of a double take when there was only an intercom to communicate- when I pressed the button a Japanese sing-song voice spoke a mile a minute whilst I stood there looking baffled. Luckily, the lady of the house heard my pathetic little "Hello?" took pity on me, and collected me from the front door.

The lovely woman (I wish her name, but it was very difficult to find out with no common language!) was very warm and welcoming, and made it clear what she needed from me with her pointing and hand gestures. The whole process was very smooth.

Sexy cotton robe I was to wear over my undergrunds

The first step was makeup. The woman led me into the very narrow, creaky old building with three stories of winding stairs (with no handrails). Even the steps were super narrow, and I felt like a giant bull in a china shop, lol.

The white makeup basewas very, very thick. It was thicker than the pancake I recognise from dancing, and the Kroyolan I have at home for costume parties. I had moisturiser on but I could just tell that this was going to be a tough job to get off my face! The makeup itself was very oily, and reminded me of the oil paintings I paint on canvas at home.

I found it interesting that there was only a tiny touch of red on my top lip- most of my top lip was went over with the white base, and then the bottom was highlighted.

Ironically the pink eyebrows matched my hair for the first time ever

Next step was the dressing room, which was kind of intense. No photos for this process, it was arduous by all accounts, lol.

Have you ever been on school camp and when it came to pack up time, became frustrated that your sleeping bag was not fitting in its case, so you stuff it in haphazardly?

Yeah. I was the sleeping bag being stuffed into a kimono. Stuffed in by tiny Japanese women, the heaviest of which probably weighed 50kg. (When wet.)

There were 3 (!) women grabbing here, grabbing there, one holding an obi (Japanese sash) tie, one with her hand inside my cotton robe pressing down on my boobs to keep them flat, and another behind trying to secure it all in.

It wasn't so much that I was too fat for the kimono (they are kind of a free size situation) it was just that there are so many layers, things to tie, and bits to keep hidden under the final kimono layer.

In the end the kimono was very tight and the lady kept asking me if I was ok. I think she thought I was going to faint or something, but all I could think of was 'This is nothing compared to the first time I wore Spanx!'

I will also mention that if you have a chubby round face, and a double (or triple?) chin you are trying to draw attention from, a slicked back hairdo and white face paint is not going to do you any favours, lol.

A maiko emerges from the dressing experience

After I was dressed we had a photo-shoot inside for the professional shots I could purchase. To be honest, most of them are so stiff (in terms of how they have posed me) I'm not that keen on them. I did get some hilarious stickers, which are so small its impossible to tell that I'm not a real maiko.

My hair was combed over what they call a semi-wig. The semi-wig was exceptionally heavy and I felt like I couldnt move my head too quickly or I would lose the whole lot. Did you ever try to balance books on your head as a kid? It felt like that.

Instead of just having hair on the semi-wig there were like 3 waxy blocks covered in hair, that they then took my hair and brushed into it before securing the whole 'do with some pins and flower clips.

Source: Maica

I kinda like how my pink hair matches me outfit! All of the photos of Japanese women getting the makeover have the black hair that matches- im not sure what they would do if I was a blonde. Maybe they would then offer the full wig? (I spied one in the shelf where they had my wig, but it didnt look nearly as good as the semi-wigs.)

Mock tea ceremony

I thought it was really helpful that the team at Maica let you take photos with your own camera. Because I was all on my lonesome, they even acted as a photographer for me, which I thought was really kind!

There are all kind of mock traditional setups inside the building for posing. I felt very silly, but how often am I going to be dressed as a maiko in Kyoto?!

My new photography assistant even took me outside, to get authentic photos in Gion. Gion is the tradional Geiko quarters in Kyoto, and much of the old architecture remains. I truly felt like a real geiko hobbling around those streets.

Oh yes, hobbling. Ever worn camel socks, and balanced on wooden clogs that have an exceptionally small base but a very high platform? Oh, and they were about an Australian size 5 (if even that.) My shoe size is normally 8.5.

The photographer kept making odd movements indicating for me to look in the distance, tilt my head etc. Most of these photos I just look kind of confused, lol.

Shit. I know that I'm short (5'2 :( ) but holy crap this photo really makes it obvious haha. Can you see my feet handing over the base of the shoes? The little bit of skin showing is supposed to be alluring- the only little bit of flesh visible. Certainly classier than getting my cans out.

 Just before my Maiko experience in Kyoto was over, an older Japanese woman ran up to me and tapped me on the shoulder and beamed at me-

'Pretty! Pretty! Gaijin Green eye geiko!' (Gaijin means non-Japanese or foreigner.)

She then giggled and ran away!

Lol?

The day I found a penguin in the suburbs

On a sunny Tuesday, I found a penguin in suburban Geelong.

I'm not a big believer in the universe and its mysterious ways, a bit of a sceptic even. But maybe, after this, I believe a little bit more.

I was 19 at the time and staying at my boyfriends house. We had been together for three years and were absolutely inseperable. In hindsight it wasnt inseparable in a cute way, it was more inseperable in the less fortunate, co-dependent way.

We had never had a major argument- until this particular night. I dont remember  how it started even- but I know it had something to do with me spilling chocolate sundae on his car interior.

There were tears, and screaming. The screaming eventually moved on to him shoving me around, and then pushing me on to the ground. It was quite late at this stage, and anyone who has ever had an all out argument knows that they are draining.

He finally let up, and went to bed. I got into the bed and joined him- before I knew it I was crashing down onto the floorboards.

The man I thought I loved so dearly said in a chilling tone that I can never forget- 'You're a dog. Dogs sleep on the floor.'

I lay awake on that floor for hours, not daring to get into the bed with him. I started off bawling, then sniffling, then got angry, then bawled again. As I stared at that ceiling (brown ceiling fan, white chipped paint and with cobwebs, how could I ever forget?) I wondered how had I gotten to this point? How had I let this man treat me this way?

I started to think about who I was, and what I wanted out of my life. Every plan I thought of, he wasnt in. I made a massive mental to-do list, and the last little goal I had before going to sleep was to one day hold a penguin. I imagined holding this tiny littly fluffy creature and smiled before dozing off.

In the morning I had had a change of heart. I woke my boyfriend up with breakfast and a sincere apology. I told him that I was sorry for upsetting him, and I would do my best not to again. I told him I was sorry for making him scream and shove me, and that I would do better.

Remembering my grand list of plans, I pushed them to the back of my mind. I was being stupid- how or where was I ever going to hold a penguin?!

We left the house for the day. As my boyfriend was locking up, I noticed there was something under his car.

As I walked down the driveway, I thought perhaps it was a Macca's bag or a bit of branch.

I strained my eyes- it had moved? Maybe it was a kitten?

My boyfriend was taking his sweet ass time getting organised. I wasnt holding him up for once, and he was in a reasonable mood after my apology. I walked up to the car, placed my bag on the ground and crouched down.

Halfway down I heard a tiny little 'MARP MARP MARP!'

Holy shit. Huddled next to the wheel of the car, was a tiny, fluffy PENGUIN.

I stared at it for what felt like an eternity.

Finally I stood up and said to my boyfriend matter-of-fctly, 'There's a penguin under your car.'

He scowled at me. 'Real funny.'

I motioned for him to come to the car and look for himself. He lay down under the car, and came up bewildered.

'Holy shit! There's a penguin under my car!'

As we both stood there mouths agape, I had noticed a stray cat circling the car. He seemed mighty interested in the penguin, who looked like it was trying to be invisible next to the tyre.

The sound started again- 'MARP MARP MARP MARP!'

Thinking quickly for the first time in my life (and the only time since!) I scooped up the penguin in my hands. It's tiny wings flapped against the side of my hands.

I remembered that my boyfriend's neighbour was a Wildlife Ranger for Parks Victoria. Maybe it had somehow hitched a ride home with him?

We ran up the street like banshees.

"STEWART!!" I yelled at his front door, 'WE HAVE A PENGUIN!!!' (Apparently, my brain was too busy to consider the doorbell.)

'What?' we heard as he slowly opened the door, 'You've probably found an injured native bird, an ibis or something...'

He looked from my hands, then back to me. 'Fuck me- it IS a penguin.'

I slowly passed my new little friend on to Stewart, who wrapped the penguin up in a tea towel. We sat at his kitchen table incredulous, whilst he made a few phone calls.

It turns out, there was a wildlife rescue house in the court behind my exes house. Somehow overnight, this tiny little penguin Houdini had escaped from their care and went for a wander!

The poor ife rescue lady had been looking for him all night, before giving up, thinking me must have been eaten by a neighbourhood cat. (They have been known to find penguins delicious.)

So- that was the day I found a penguin in the suburbs. It could be completely unrelated and totally random, but I like to think that the Universe, God, or whoever you believe in was sending me a little signal to say that even the craziest dreams can be achieved.