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First, a link: this blog has an interesting comic published which sparked off a rather intense discussion of human rights, culture, racism, etc, especially as these topics relate to Japan. Said discussion is very extensive, but it makes for interesting reading. Most of it is also intelligent, which I appreciate. And, as it should be with good debate, you find yourself constantly changing your mind as the discussion continues and those on opposite sides (or even different sides of the same side) answer each other and bring up new points.
Be informed, and make up your mind for yourself. That's my general rule.
* * * * *
I woke up at 5:30 this morning to a loud sound similar to the crunching of an aluminum can, the bizarrely musical tinkle of shattering glass, and a loud electronic wailing that put me in mind of an ignored alarm clock on steroids. The first two sounds lasted a mere second; the third lasted for ten minutes. By the time the policemen who arrived at the scene of the car crash finally managed to shut it off, I was well and truly awake.
As was most of the neighborhood, of course.
After several attempts to go back to sleep, I finally gave it up as a bad job. At 6 AM the weather was still cool, the sky a perfect blue around the perfect white clouds . . . so I decided to go for a run out into the rice fields.
And I decided to take my camera with me.
I love trains. I love that I can hear the trains from my apartment. Unlike my father I do not love them for themselves, but because I have so very many memories tied to them. I love them, too, for the places that they can take me, for the promises they hold. I love to watch them, sliding so smoothly along their tracks.
According to my shakuhachi sensei, only ten years ago Tanabe was a virtual backwater, nothing but rice fields. As you see we still have rice fields, though we also have a great deal more development.
As above, so below.
Wildlife in Japan is rather different from what I'm used to in the US (no squirrels, not around where I am, anyway. Probably due to lack of trees), but it certainly is present if you look for it.
A local graveyard. One of the things that's very striking about Japan is the way the spiritual and the mundane exist side-by-side, and are in many cases intermingled. As you see here, there's no wall between the graveyard and the fields, just a low earthen rise.
Graves themselves are also quite different. Cremation is the rule, not the exception, and graves take up much less space. They are also passed down from generation to generation.
This is the first one I've seen like this, though.
Leaving the graveyard . . .
Along the river . . . rivers are very much tamed entities in Japan, at least those I've seen. Even the one we went whitewater rafting on had concrete banks in places, and other "improvements" along it.
A suburban castle.
Yes, that's the moon back there above the rooftree.
Only in Japan . . . the tiny little church near my apartment is also home to a preschool.
The people who live here have flowers and plants out year-round. An interesting and creative way to have a garden without having one.
My neighborhood Jizo shrine.
I wonder just how many years it took to convince that tree to grow that way?
Be informed, and make up your mind for yourself. That's my general rule.
* * * * *
I woke up at 5:30 this morning to a loud sound similar to the crunching of an aluminum can, the bizarrely musical tinkle of shattering glass, and a loud electronic wailing that put me in mind of an ignored alarm clock on steroids. The first two sounds lasted a mere second; the third lasted for ten minutes. By the time the policemen who arrived at the scene of the car crash finally managed to shut it off, I was well and truly awake.
As was most of the neighborhood, of course.
After several attempts to go back to sleep, I finally gave it up as a bad job. At 6 AM the weather was still cool, the sky a perfect blue around the perfect white clouds . . . so I decided to go for a run out into the rice fields.
And I decided to take my camera with me.
I love trains. I love that I can hear the trains from my apartment. Unlike my father I do not love them for themselves, but because I have so very many memories tied to them. I love them, too, for the places that they can take me, for the promises they hold. I love to watch them, sliding so smoothly along their tracks.
According to my shakuhachi sensei, only ten years ago Tanabe was a virtual backwater, nothing but rice fields. As you see we still have rice fields, though we also have a great deal more development.
As above, so below.
Wildlife in Japan is rather different from what I'm used to in the US (no squirrels, not around where I am, anyway. Probably due to lack of trees), but it certainly is present if you look for it.
A local graveyard. One of the things that's very striking about Japan is the way the spiritual and the mundane exist side-by-side, and are in many cases intermingled. As you see here, there's no wall between the graveyard and the fields, just a low earthen rise.
Graves themselves are also quite different. Cremation is the rule, not the exception, and graves take up much less space. They are also passed down from generation to generation.
This is the first one I've seen like this, though.
Leaving the graveyard . . .
Along the river . . . rivers are very much tamed entities in Japan, at least those I've seen. Even the one we went whitewater rafting on had concrete banks in places, and other "improvements" along it.
A suburban castle.
Yes, that's the moon back there above the rooftree.
Only in Japan . . . the tiny little church near my apartment is also home to a preschool.
The people who live here have flowers and plants out year-round. An interesting and creative way to have a garden without having one.
My neighborhood Jizo shrine.
I wonder just how many years it took to convince that tree to grow that way?
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lots of fun at finnegan's wake