How I became Madame Butterfly for a day

A new Hollywood blockbuster is about to turn the spotlight on to the twilight world of the geisha. Joanne O'Connor goes to Kyoto to experience a dying tradition
Joanne O'Connor as a geisha
Turning Japanese ... Joanne O'Connor has a geisha makeover at Kyoto's film studios.

When I told my friend I was going to Japan to learn how to be a geisha he laughed so much that the tea he was drinking came out of his nose. When he had finally recovered his composure he observed helpfully: 'You never know, it might help you get a boyfriend.' Which is quite annoying when you think about it, and, even more annoying, quite possibly true.

What is it about geisha? Just the mention of the G-word seems to make men come over all misty-eyed. I concede that my current courtship technique leaves a lot to be desired (broadly speaking it seems to involve picking an argument with someone I like the look of - a recent spat with a handsome librarian over the failings of the Dewey system was a particular low point) but surely it takes more than some white face paint and a winning way with a teapot?

A week later I am on a bullet train slicing south from Tokyo to Kyoto. I'm travelling with a small group of journalists who've been invited to Japan for the premiere of Memoirs of a Geisha directed by Rob Marshall (who won a string of Oscars for Chicago) and starring Ziyi Zhang and Michelle Yeoh (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon) and Ken Watanabe (The Last Samurai). The film is released in the UK on 13 January, and if it's anywhere near as successful as the 1997 novel by Arthur Golden, which sold four million copies in English and was translated into 32 languages (though strangely not Japanese) it will be a box office hit.

Very little of the film was shot on location in Kyoto (rumours are rife that permission was refused because the book was so controversial) and the streets of the geisha district had to be recreated on a ranch in California. Nevertheless, the Japanese tourist office is confident that the lavish and dreamlike portrayal of Kyoto's atmospheric alleyways, bamboo forests, Shinto temples, pagodas and exquisite gardens decked with cherry blossom will inspire people to visit the city.

Unlike Tokyo, which was blanket-bombed during World War II, Kyoto still offers a flavour of old Japan. Beyond the neon glare, the karaoke bars and the concrete shopping malls, you will find countless incense-shrouded temples, shrines and zen gardens. There are five geisha districts, the most famous of which is Gion. Here, the narrow stone-flagged streets are lined with small wooden teahouses, exclusive restaurants and okiya, the traditional boarding houses where the geisha live. By day the streets are quiet and empty but as night falls the paper lanterns outside the teahouses are lit and the sound of music and laughter filters through the bamboo blinds.

The teahouses function like private members' clubs, which only the wealthiest of Japanese can afford to frequent. As a Western visitor it's virtually impossible to break into this secretive twilight world - unless, that is, you hook up with Peter MacIntosh. An ex-professional footballer from Canada, Peter moved to Japan 12 years ago and is now married to a former geisha. He is one of the few westerners to hold accounts at the teahouses and his walking tours of Gion give a fascinating insight into this historic neighbourhood.

He takes us to the school where the maikos, the apprentice geisha, attend classes in dance, shamisen (a three-stringed instrument), calligraphy, flower arranging and tea ceremony.

As Peter talks, I am distracted by something colourful moving into my field of vision. It's a maiko. Dressed in a pink silk kimono, with a chalk-white face, rosebud mouth and butterflies in her hair, she looks like a walking work of art. 'That's Tanejo,' whispers Peter as she clip-clops by in her wooden clogs and white socks. 'She's a cutie. She loves to sing karaoke.'

On spotting us, Tanejo bows primly, then flicks a victory sign and puts her hand to her mouth, giggling. We gaze after her as she shimmies around the corner. I bet she wouldn't tell a librarian the Dewey system was crap.

The rest of the tour takes on the air of a slightly surreal safari (Peter: 'There's one on your left. She looks a little hung-over') as we seek out examples of this exotic and endangered species. In the 19th century there would have been more than 3,000 geisha working in the Gion district alone. Today there are fewer than 250 in all of Kyoto. Peter can tell their place in the geisha pecking order by the way they wear their hair, and even manages to spot the ones who are completely camouflaged. A petite old lady in a raincoat walks past, pulling a shopping trolley. 'She's a geisha,' says Peter. But how can he tell? 'I can spot 'em a mile off. I call it my "geidar".'

Apparently the oldest geisha working in Kyoto is 90. 'The batteries start to go a little flat after 8.30 but the older ones tell the best stories,' says Peter. There is hope for me yet.

We cross a small stone bridge over the Shirakawa stream. It's a beautiful spot, with Japanese maples and weeping cherries in their fiery autumn colours drooping gracefully over the water. At the end of the street is the Yamato hairdressing studio. We watch a young girl having her hair straightened, waxed and coaxed into the elaborate trademark style of the maiko. Dressed in a cream kimono demurely writing thank-you notes, she cuts an incongruous figure in the modern salon, J-lo playing on the radio, and I want to ask what made her choose such an odd lifestyle. 'We have a word in Japanese, akogare, which translates as 'wow factor', says Peter. 'They get to wear $50,000 worth of clothing every day, meet celebrities, eat in the best restaurants and have their picture taken. It's a big ego boost, especially if you are a young girl from the country. You can be a superstar without any talent.'

Hmmm, 'superstar', 'no talent'. I like the sound of that, so I take myself off to Kyoto's Uzumasa film studios for a one-hour 'maiko makeover'. Although this is a working studio (some of the scenes of Memoirs of a Geisha were shot here), it also offers tourists the chance to raid the wardrobe department and live out their Madame Butterfly fantasies. Within half an hour I have been trussed up in a kimono, painted white and pushed out on to the street wearing a wig that makes me look like an extra from Planet of the Apes

Seconds later a crowd of curious Japanese tourists have gathered around me. They talk excitedly among themselves as they snap away. 'What are they saying, Henry?' I ask my companion through pursed lips (teeth are a no-no for geisha as the white make-up makes them look green). 'Um, they are saying you look beautiful,' he says, with less than complete conviction. And, anyway, he's dressed as a samurai warrior with stick-on black sideburns so he's in no position to be objective.

As I mince along in six-inch high wooden flip-flops which are two sizes too small - a terrible parody of the feminine ideal to which I aspire - I suddenly know what it feels like to be a man in drag.

Luckily for me, being a geisha is as much about your conversational skills and mastery of the arts as it is about looking good in a kimono (or did I just make that up?). I decide to compensate for my gauche geisha demeanour by becoming mistress of the tea ceremony. This is one of the most important arts a geisha must master. The tea room at the Hotel Miyako will be the venue for my initiation into the way of the teapot.

I am greeted by the softly spoken Yoko who leads me into a small room. It's bare but for a flower arrangement and a brazier set into the floor where a tea kettle is bubbling away. We kneel and Yoko proceeds to perform the ceremony. It lasts about 10 minutes and involves lots of symbolic cleansing of bowls and spoons, the odd Japanese incantation, strange hand movements and strategic placing of utensils in careful alignment. Yoko's movements are precise and infinitely graceful and it's all very relaxing to watch.

Then it all goes a bit Generation Game as Yoko asks me to try to replicate the ceremony. I forget to symbolically purify my bowl, I pick it up with my left hand (a bit of a faux pas, apparently) and then when I try to whisk my green tea powder it doesn't froth and Yoko has to take over. 'How long did it take you to learn the tea ceremony, Yoko?' I ask. 'Thirty years,' she replies. The fact that she can't possibly be more than 25 somehow makes this even more impressive.

Japan throws up all sorts of niggly questions for the Western traveller. Like how did I ever manage to live without a heated toilet seat? Will I die if I eat raw chicken sashimi? And are geisha the embodiment of an ancient and venerable artistic tradition or a relic of an outmoded sexist hierarchy which promotes female subservience? I put this last question to Peter.

His answer is well rehearsed: 'People ask me, "Why pay $800 to talk to a 17-year-old? Are you some kind of loser?" But people think nothing of paying to go to the ballet or to see a bunch of hooligans running around on a football pitch. Are they losers?'

I decide that I would like to experience an evening in a teahouse. Can Peter fix it? Yes he can, but it will cost about £300 each. I decide I don't want to experience it that much. The chap from the Telegraph does (I suspect they have a more generous expenses allowance than The Observer) and he and Peter arrange to meet up later that evening.

Though geisha are well-versed in the arts of music, dance and conversation, a teahouse party is not as prim as it might sound. For a start, beer, not tea, is likely to be the refreshment of choice, and in Peter's words, 'It can all get very frat house. People play drinking games, get smashed, take off all their clothes and dance around.'

I have a vision of Peter dancing naked and I'm suddenly very glad I didn't pay £300. But, the next day, when I ask the man from the Telegraph about his night, he gets that misty look in his eye and says, yes, it was definitely worth the money, though he can't (or maybe won't) explain why.

I still don't get it - but I suspect that's because it's not meant for me. A tiny world of women it may be, but it's one that exists solely for men. Much is made of the geisha's role as artist but really it's all about making men feel good; allowing them to escape, briefly, into a fantasy world where beautiful young girls laugh at their jokes and don't roll their eyes and look bored when they try to chat them up. I suddenly realise that it would have been wrong for me to go to the teahouse. Because nothing will burst the bubble more quickly than the sight of a real woman sat in the corner with all her insecurities, clumsinesses and opinions, getting not-so-quietly drunk and airing her views on the Dewey system.

Glimpse inside a hidden world

Canadian geisha expert Peter MacIntosh (525 3339; offers walking tours of Gion from £15 per person. MacIntosh can also arrange an evening of traditional geisha entertainment. One hour with a maiko (apprentice) plus food and drink in a restaurant costs from around £300 for up to three people.

The Hotel Granvia (342 5855; has launched a package combining a meal and geisha entertainment at a tea house or in the hotel's own restaurant. From £265 for four people for entertainment and room hire. Food is extra.

In autumn and spring, geisha and their apprentices dress up in their finery to put on traditional dances to celebrate the seasons at venues throughout the city. Contact the Kyoto Tourist Information Centre (371 5649) to find out what's on.

One of the best places to experience the Japanese tea ceremony with an English-speaking hostess is the peaceful tea room at the Westin Miyako Hotel (752 0148). It costs £6pp.

There are several studios in Kyoto which offer geisha makeovers. At Toei Movie Land (, a theme park linked to the Uzumasa film studios, you can have your picture taken in costume against the backdrop of authentic movie sets. Prices start from £42 to dress up as a samurai and go up to £60 to dress up as a maiko.

When dialling Kyoto from abroad, prefix numbers with 00 81 75.


Joanne O'Connor was a guest of the Japan National Tourist Organisation and Japan Airlines. Jaltour (020 7462 5577; is offering a five-night Memoirs of a Geisha tour of Japan including three nights in Kyoto and two in Tokyo from £940pp with flights on Japan Airlines. Also included is a ride on Japan's bullet train and a tour of film locations in Kyoto.

Japan Airlines (0845 7747 700; flies twice-daily from London to Tokyo and daily to Osaka, which is close to Kyoto. For more information, free maps and brochures contact the Japan National Tourist Organisation on 020 7734 9638 or visit the website