In Gion, the fabled entertainment district of Kyoto where Hollywood‘s Memoirs of a Geisha is set, there isn‘t a geisha to be found.
There are women in respectably stiff kimonos who entertain men in a tradition that‘s endured for centuries.
But they call themselves geiko-performing girls. Not “geisha,“ the term bandied about by the hostesses of the red-light areas.
“That is one thing that bothers me the most,“ Mamehiro says, according to a report in Asian Media.
“I sometimes have customers-excuse me for saying this, but often old men from the countryside-ask me if I was sold to this place in payment for debts,“ she said.
But Gion‘s geishas hardly encourage outsiders to learn about them. Gion is not only exclusive but even cliquish.
Unless introduced by a regular customer in the neighbourhood, a newcomer cannot even step into a decent tea house, the place that will organize a night with a geiko.
Once your face is known, however, Gion‘s tea houses would show you the best time with best food, best drinks, best dancing and music with the best hostesses-the geiko.
For most people, even in Kyoto, the closest they will get to the mysterious demimonde will be watching the star-studded Memoirs of a Geisha.
Coproduced by Steven Spielberg, the movie tells of a girl from a poor fishing village who is sold to a Gion geisha house and achieves legendary status, secretly falling in love along the way with a wealthy businessman.
The book was criticized by its subject, former geisha Mineko Iwasaki, who accused Golden of fabrication and making the Japanese hostesses seem like prostitutes.
For the geiko of Gion, their profession is far more nuanced. Some past geishas in other districts offered sex and the geiko say that foreigners often mistake them for prostitutes because of their showy outfits.
The geiko believe they are far different, preserving a sophisticated tradition and creating a fantasy world in which modern concepts such as gender equality have yet to enter.
Gion is said to have started in the mid-17th century to host those travelers who trekked all the way to visit Yasaka Shrine, one of the most popular attractions in the city.
They are taught in the performing arts, gracious social etiquette and conversation skills, which all will be necessary when they host customers at a tea house‘s hosting room.
They soon become maiko-dancing girls.
Becoming more skilled in dancing and performing with musical instruments, they finally assume the title of geiko, usually around the age of 20.
Mamehiro, now 36, moved into a geiko house upon graduation from middle school, just like the 90 or so other geiko serving in Gion, and went through an apprenticeship for five years to learn the social graces.
The aspiring geiko learns how to show respect to the elder girls and the mother of the house.
Phrases such as “Excuse me for taking a bath before you“ and “Excuse me for going before you“ into a hallway become second nature.
Unlike about half the young geiko who now come from outside Kyoto, attracted to the glamorous world, Mamehiro, who was born as Akiko Maeda, came from a family of one of the geiko houses in Gion.
But it didn‘t exempt her from serving an apprenticeship to learn the secrets of the profession.
“If I could relax alone, it was only the time in the washroom or taking a bath,“ says Mamehiro, folding her knees in a neat and crisp kimono with her hair up and a conservative dash of makeup.
Mamehiro, like others, still takes lessons in dancing, playing the stringed samisen instrument, tea ceremonies and a simple version of noh theatre.
Each day, she has a lesson in the morning, returns after noon to prepare meals for the girls in training who live in her geiko house, where she moved back to after her apprenticeship.
Grooming is painstaking.
She has to go to a hair salon even on a day when she dresses in a simple kimono.
When she has to dress formally, she puts on a wig and calls a professional kimono fitter.
“Sometimes I come home early but often it‘s past 1 am,“ she says.
The lifestyle will continue all of her life.
“Even older geiko in their 60s or 70s still go to lessons,“ Mamehiro says.
“I hear them say that they still get corrected by masters. The performing arts don‘t give you a goal where you can feel satisfied.“
At a hosting room of a tea house, maiko and geiko sit next to customers, pouring drinks, chatting with them and, upon request, dancing to the music.
It‘s the experienced geiko‘s role to read the mood of customers and liven up the party, controlling the younger entertainers like her troops.
They had the option of continuing the career even after they married.
Mamehiro says it‘s no accident that Gion chooses to stay mysterious.
Customers do not even know how much a night costs until they receive a monthly bill.
This practice adds to the air of a fantasy world.
Gion hopes to blur out the outside world of commercialism and also of gender equality.
“Our customers come here to forget about their real life for some time,“ Mamehiro says.
“We all believe men are greater than women. Women should follow them three steps behind.
“Even maiko of 16 years old feel the same way,” she says. But when the night is over, the men may realize that none of it was real.