Utopian Quest

Trudging out in the wild (or what they consider such in Japan), I have been hoping to see the Macaca known to be the worlds northernmost primate in the wild.  Finally last weekend, while exploring Shimokita fishing villages, their staunchy little faces were directing traffic, and stopped us dead in our tracks.  I shot some brilliant photos with the tele-lens (Below).  The locals in the area seem to pay no care to them, and we were rather their gawking target.  That night I was sewing a book binding when I was lucky enough to drop kick a sewing needle, successfully burying the eye end in the soft tissue of my big toe (under the bone).  After three days of limping, I knew it had broken off below where I could get to it with my self surgery (yes I tried), so I had a wonderous adventure at the Misawa Hospital, where only two people spoke broken english.  After an X-Ray proved my theory, I was escorted to a strange bed with a raptor-claw scan and then I had a Japanese Surgery.  I think I can now perform foot surgery so give me a call at your next puncture.

When you pick up an average guidebook on Japan, the Tohoku section is usually sparse, showing photos of rice farmers and alluding to their seemingly only (anti) social output, PACHINKO (Japanese slot/pinball).  Tohoku has not just been forgotten by tourists, but by the government as well, most of the national parks have fallen into disrepair, and many large engineering projects that had begun, now quietly sleep as rust an corrosion rebutt their efforts.  Coming to Tohoku has certainly opened my eyes to the beauty of rural Iowa, every piece of nature here has been channeled by concrete and steel.  I have chased some tracks to festivals like Emburi (below right), a parade where each rice farming family dresses in colorful traditional costumes, each step of their dances mimics a step in the process of cultivating rice, from planting to harvest.  The most difficult thing here is making true friends, as in all collective cultures, once people have their circle of friends and family, they are done making new ones.  So people are very friendly, though I have never received an invitation, or been able to establish plans with a Japanese person.

After awaiting the glaciers to recede from Iowa, I made it to Leadville, CO to recertify the WFR certification. Two days later I was on the subway in Tokyo. I couchsurfed with a Parisian of Portuguese descent by the name of Elizabeth. She took me by foot to Roppongi crossing, (below) one of the larger cross-walks in the world, especially in terms of volume of people, which was true the night we went. The notorious nightlife found at Roppongi helps keep the crossing full. The next day invited me to a show of the art of Japanese Juggling, coincidentally showing free at the Hamarikyu Gardens. The perfomers enchanted a small crowd of gawkers by balancing spinning rings, cups, boxes, etc. upon spinning Japanese umbrellas, to the tune of a Shimasen (Japanese 3 string instrument). Click on the photo to see the gallery.