Over a decade ago, my wife and I were on a road trip. We spent a few days in Nagano and then headed for Tokyo. Mount Fuji was conveniently on the way. Unfortunately, all we saw was a giant gray cloud which completely shrouded the famous landmark. We couldn’t even discern an outline of the peak.
Just recently, we tried again, spending three days in the Mount Fuji area. The weather was totally on our side, with clear blue skies every day, and hardly a cloud in sight!
There’s so much going on there, you could easily spend a month and not do it all. Museums, shrines, temples, sky trains, hikes, lakes, water falls, onsens, dairy farms, many excellent restaurants and hotels, even a safari park. We chose to drive all the way around the huge mountain, viewing it from every possible angle, doing what we could along the way.
Here is just a sampling of the sights.
By the way, back in 2013 I wrote a very short story called “Climbing Mt. Fuji”, though I had never climbed or even seen Mount Fuji. I guess you’d call that ‘literary license’, eh? Anyway, the story was presented at a literary reading event in Chicago. Here’s the video . . .
Next time we visit the area, I promise I’ll attempt to climb the mountain, at least to the lower base camp. Hopefully, that will make me an honest man. Until then, let’s keep my little secret just between you and me.
I first visited Japan in 2007, met Masumi in 2008, married her in 2012. It’s been a whirlwind of happiness since. We’ve traveled to over 20 foreign countries in Europe, North America, and of course Asia. And Masumi and I have explored the wonders of Japan together, from Hokkaido to Okinawa and every place in between.
Masumi still teaches music at a local elementary school, while I continue to write books, political articles and do what I can from here as a peace activist. I also do some songwriting and music productions here in my modest home recording studio.
Together we’ve seen two of her daughters married. The remaining single one lives here in Tambasasayama and we see her at least once a week — I’m teaching her English.
We also have been blessed with three adorable kitties: Arthur, Jennifer, and Sophie.
What is the lesson? I’d say it’s this: You’re never too old to dream and it’s never too late for dreams to come true!
However, in 1951 Daihachi Oguchi, a jazz-trained musician based in Nagano Prefecture, transcribed into modern notation several traditional Taiko pieces, adding his own touches. He formed his own ensemble — Osuwa Diako — and performed these modernized works. The new performance style, known as kumi-daiko, quickly grew in popularity, and soon many other ensembles formed and continued to popularize the musical form.
Taiko performances are common both in Japan and other parts of the world. We recently had such a performance at the castle grounds located in the heart of downtown Tambasasayama.
As a songwriter/music producer, I love taiko music! There’s the drama of the choreographed drumming making a riveting visual statement. But it’s the power and energy of the layered rhythms which most captivate me. The first layer is the towering tribal warrior beat which drives the entire performance. On top of that and weaved throughout are some very interesting counter rhythms. It’s impossible to stand still and not smile at one of these performances.
Hey! You want to really surprise your friends? Hire one of these taiko groups for your next birthday or anniversary party. A good time is guaranteed for all!
And you might make a new friend . . . like we did.
I have a great idea for you. Take a break from the horror show going on in the world and savor a brilliant memoir-tribute by a son to his father.
This is a short read but every page is fascinating and enriching. It is time very well spent in a world that seems to have forgotten the core values which have sustained us for millennia, and form the fundamental fabric of communities and a nation.
I suspect — no, I’m quite sure — the many of the things about my own life growing up which I have in common with Bill Astore and his family, significantly contributed to why I found this book so riveting and poignant: Catholic family, poorly educated parents, we were poor working class, living lives of contented poverty too-often visited by hardship and tragedy, my parents’ world view and rules of life shaped by the trials of the Great Depression. Both of my parents died when I was 14 and I lived alone for several months in the family mobile home. My mother had severe problems with her heart all of her life, a vulnerability which took her at age 54. My father was a lifelong smoker and died of brain cancer at 56 after an operation left him gruesomely handicapped. A priest said Mass and presided over both of their funerals. My father had worked in factories much of his life. I myself worked my last three years of high school in a factory. We had little in the way of worldly comforts. But at least we had each other.
Frankly, I remember us being a happy family, always sufficiently fed, clothed and able to enjoy what good things we could afford. Back then, before everything became commodified and “success” was purely measured by the balances in a bank account and investment portfolio, there was a direct relationship between the love and special intimacy of a secure family, and a sense of self-worth and overall happiness.
This fine book offers a lot to digest and think about. I would hope that even readers who grew up under more fortunate circumstances will be able to fully appreciate and identify with both Bill’s own recollections and his father’s inspiring journal entries. His dad had a school-of-hard-knocks education but was gifted with the wisdom of a philosopher — he often quoted Schopenhauer. To the good fortune of the family, Bill’s father was generous with both his incredible insights, his humility and compassion, and his devotion to his wife and children.
So yes, folks . . . take a break from the nightmare unfolding in the world around us.
Savor this marvelously candid look at growing up poor but immersed in love.
When I watch the above video, Instruments of a Beating Heart, I’m tempted to think it’s all been staged for the cameras. But I have the luxury of a wife who teaches music to elementary students in just such a school and she tells me . . .
Yes, this is exactly what it’s like!
There are several things that truly stand out, at least for me.
The kids take the auditions so seriously, but their enthusiasm for getting the parts in the orchestra is shared. They’re very supportive of one another. Their focus is making their individual efforts contribute to the success of all of them in the shared enterprise. This “spirit of community” very much defines Japanese culture. It is why Japan is such a polite society, why there’s so much respect for the property of others, why the crime rate is so low, why kindness is the norm, why everything here seems to work so well.
The students show an awful lot of respect for their teachers. Of course, there are always exceptions. My wife tells me about the one or two or three kids in a class who are disruptive, even abusive to her and other students. Overall, however, Japanese students are attentive and polite.
THEY CLEAN THE SCHOOL! This includes the halls and the classrooms. Correct me if I’m wrong but I can’t imagine this being standard procedure in the U.S. and can imagine parents being outraged at the school using their kids as janitors. I think it’s phenomenal! It gives the kids a sense of ownership of and responsibility for the school, prompting them to keep the facility clean in the first place.
THEY HELP SERVE LUNCH! Again, I think this is great! It promotes a sense of service to others, gives them some practical experience doing something essential. Amazing! Do the elementary schools in America even serve freshly cooked, nutritionally balanced meals?
Lastly, I want to highlight the conversation among three of the students, discussing “What are we?” Meaning, how should they see themselves as individual contributors to the upcoming performance. This occurs at 21:18 of the video.
With a perceptiveness and intellects way beyond their years — they are only six-years-old — they decide together they all form a “beating heart”.
“We’re each a piece of a heart. If everyone is together, this is our shape.” And one girl makes a heart with her fingers. “If one of us is unbalanced, then the shape is broken. It’s no longer a heart.” Out of the mouths of babes, eh? But yes, that sums up the sense of community here in Japan, which I’ve written about before. It’s ingrained in every Japanese from birth, for better or worse.
I’m not preaching. Nor am I judging. Schools in each country — as do their societies as a whole — have their own ways of doing things and approved, accepted practices. What I am saying is that it’s important to look to other cultures to get fresh ideas and perspectives. That’s one sure way to improve on things. There are always opportunities to learn, re-think, break old habits, to innovate. It’s just a matter of looking around.
And what do you think?
By the way, there’s excellent video commentary on Instruments of a Beating Heart, presented by Professor Andrew Hartley. He looks at the fundamental cultural differences between Japan and the U.S., focusing on the contrasting ways we regard and raise our children. I highly recommend it.
I grew up and lived the first half of my life in Michigan. There, over the entire three months of winter, there’s tons of snow! Usually it snows at least twice a week, sometimes every day. I had a love-hate relationship with winter. I hated the chapped lips, the chapped hands, the frozen fingertips and toes, the constantly runny nose. At the same time, when it snowed it was SO BEAUTIFUL! Being out in a gentle snowfall is truly delightful. The snowflakes tumble and swirl, land on your skin and melt, and fill the entire air with a joy which is incomparable.
Then, of course, there’s the really fun stuff. Building snowmen — I guess ‘snow persons’ is more PC — having a friendly snowball fight, even shoveling the walk and drive, though hard work, had its rewards. Then, when the wind was right, the snow would drift. My last house in Michigan was a fairly large Dutch colonial with a balcony. Sometimes the drifts which accumulated against the house were two to three (6 – 10 feet) meters deep, so we’d jump off the balcony and end up with snow up to our eyebrows.
My best memories of winter were my childhood, specifically when I was 12, 13, 14. I’d ice skate every day after school on one of the many ponds which naturally occurred in the fields behind our mobile home. There was snow everywhere and if there was fresh snowfall, the skating session had to begin with shoveling the ice. Once enough of the surface was cleared, we would skate under the sky or canopy of clouds, until we couldn’t feel our toes any longer. My dad made me a hockey net and I practiced and practiced. I got good enough that when I was 14, I went out for a hockey team and became first string center!
Enough nostalgia.
Japan gets its share of winter. The northernmost prefecture — a prefecture is the equivalent of a state — is Hokkaido. It has weather very much like Michigan, with tons of snow. Hokkaido has a fleet of snow removal trucks, just like the Midwest in America. And great skiing!
But where I live, the winters are very mild. This year has been cold but lacking much snowfall. It snowed a couple times but only lightly, and the temperature was mostly above freezing, so the snow disappeared within a couple hours of appearing.
Two years ago, we had some serious winter storms. I reached into my photo archive. This is the neighborhood where I live two years ago.
And here are some photos of a walk I took then to our local shrine.
However, I have to close with a slight correction. Here I am writing about not having much snow this year. But I waited an extra day to finish this article. Ironically, overnight we got a major blizzard and it’s still snowing! I would guess we’re going to get 2-4 inches, which to be sure is a lot for this town. So far it looks like this . . .
I tested it. It’s great packing snow, perfect for a ‘snow person’.
California folk-rock artist, Alisha Idlewild, performs “War Is Making Us Poor”. The talented Ms. Idlewild offers her fans a variety of songs, touching on the environment, human relationships, the rights of indigenous people, spirituality, and world peace.
Her voice has a sweetness and sincerity that reminds me of the antiwar songs of the 60s and 70s. Enjoy!
Life In Japan: Taiko
Taiko is traditionally not the highly stylized drum performance we think of nowadays. Taiko actually refers to a wide variety of drums and approaches to rhythm embraced by Japanese percussionists, going back as far as the 6th Century.
However, in 1951 Daihachi Oguchi, a jazz-trained musician based in Nagano Prefecture, transcribed into modern notation several traditional Taiko pieces, adding his own touches. He formed his own ensemble — Osuwa Diako — and performed these modernized works. The new performance style, known as kumi-daiko, quickly grew in popularity, and soon many other ensembles formed and continued to popularize the musical form.
Taiko performances are common both in Japan and other parts of the world. We recently had such a performance at the castle grounds located in the heart of downtown Tambasasayama.
As a songwriter/music producer, I love taiko music! There’s the drama of the choreographed drumming making a riveting visual statement. But it’s the power and energy of the layered rhythms which most captivate me. The first layer is the towering tribal warrior beat which drives the entire performance. On top of that and weaved throughout are some very interesting counter rhythms. It’s impossible to stand still and not smile at one of these performances.
Hey! You want to really surprise your friends? Hire one of these taiko groups for your next birthday or anniversary party. A good time is guaranteed for all!
And you might make a new friend . . . like we did.