Attack of the Killer Semi!

I remember hearing a segment on NPR about these giant, noise making insects that crawl out of the ground every year in the DC area. Having never traveled to east during the summer, I was completely unaware that such creatures existed. Listening to people share their experiences on the radio program just was incapable of transmitting the intensity of these prehistoric buzzers− unless, that is, I had been prompted to turn the volume up to distortion.

So, here I am in Japan and I hear this loud buzzing not unlike a security alarm blaring somewhere in the neighborhood. That’s actually what I thought it was. Others unfamiliar with the sound of these insects, imagined it was the power lines. All you can hear is a loud buzzing sound. I finally spotted one of these guys in a tree. It was GARGANTUAN! I’m only guessing here, but I’ve theorized the name semi has been applied to them die to the sound they produce. If one says semi-semi-semi-semi-semi really quickly, I swear it matches up perfectly (my wife thinks I’m nuts, however… ♪semi-semi-semi-semi-semi…♫).

Known as cicadas in the States, they only live for a few days. They come out of the ground to shed their exoskeletons, mate and die. One would think that their hard little bodies would litter the ground but the birds are quick to eat them up. I’m not sure what happens to their exoskeletons but I did see plastic buckets full them in the science display case at school before I knew what they were− I was told the students gathered them as part of a summer break homework assignment. Other than the noise, they’re harmless. I saw one of my students reach of and take one out of a tree. Understandably, it screamed to the top if its lungs (or however they produce their sound). I’m told they don’t bite but they can release an excretion that is rumored to be urine if disturbed.

Honestly, I took a liking to the little guys. Their mating season is only a few weeks of the year. They don’t harm anything and they’re quite amazing, really. If you have never seen one, you’re missing out. The only catch is you have to go to a really muggy place in the summer to see them which could outweigh the benefit for some folks, myself included. I miss them already and they’re not even due to surface yet!

Volkswagen? Yes or No?

The other day, we took a bike ride to Takarazuka (宝塚市), one of the cities to the north of Nishinomiya (西宮市). It’s an interesting place. It was built along the Mukogawa and is somewhat of a wealthy area with an almost countryside appeal. That’s not I’m wring to tell you about though….

On the way back, we took a back road route along an extremely narrow road lacking a shoulder of any sort− instead it was, as many roads are, lined by a cement runoff ditch that the mere idea of crashing into makes my teeth ache. I wasn’t really sure where we would end up exactly, only that our home was somewhere off in the same direction.

We ended up in front of Kabutoyama Koko (Helmet Mountain High School). The view was stupendous. A few homes dot the area as do couple restaurants. In an effort to get a better view, we rode into the parking lot of one of them. Aside from the miraculous scene of Allah’s creation laid before us, was a car that I’d never before seen. Here’s my question: is this really a Volkswagen?

I’m a sucker for the old European cars built between the 30s and 60s. I can sink an hour peering around and an old Volvo PV544 or a ’41 BMW 328. But this one… I’d never seen anything like it. From the back door to the hood ornament− it was fantastic! Japan has a lot of cars that are unavailable in the States, mostly due to
safety regulations. (On a side note, isn’t it telling that the US regulates the mobility safety of vehicles so stringently, yet the dangers of environmental safety and public health associated with the of burning fossil fuels continues to be neglected). Japan is the only place where I've seen Bentleys on the road, in addition to a new MG and various other
European autos unseen in the States due either to expense or safety standards.

So, can anyone answer my question: Is this really a Volkswagen?

Valley of the Forty Eight Water Falls

One hot and humid day in June, Tsugumi and I decided to hop aboard a train to Mie, a prefecture east of Osaka (I thought it interesting that the capital of Mie is Tsu or つ). A couple of hours and few trains later, we arrived a small station. The ride was a pleasant one. We passed through a lot of beautiful, lush country side, before our departure at Akame-guchi, a little station, sparsely populated, by a few locals. We made our way to a bus stop and got on with two other apparent visitors to the area. After a short wait, the bus driver got in, started up the engine and made the announcement that we were on our way, “All Aboard!”− well not exactly but some variation of that.

It was really nice being so far away from the bustle of the city. The humidity in Kansai this time of year is really overbearing for me so opening the window of the bus and taking in the cool country air was absolutely invigorating. As the bus creaked along up through the narrow, winding Taki-gawa Valley road, the vegetation got more and more green. At the end − literally, we paid our fare (a little steeper than what we pay in the city) and stepped off the bus.

At the end of the ride we came upon a few tourist traps on one side with a hotel and onsen on the other. We enjoyed some mochi and iced tea and took in the beauty surrounding us. On the hillside the air tends to be cooler but still a bit moist. After our brief pause at the mochi stand, we strolled over to the trailhead and paid our fee to enter. Unfortunately, we had to walk through an chamber exhibiting giant salamanders, commonly seen in the area. Some of the were the size of small dogs. Being that I am strongly against the use of animals and other creatures being removed from their natural environment and taken away from Allah’s intended purpose and used for entertainment, I started the trip on a sour note− especially recognizing the inadequate housing they were condemned to for their remainder of their lives.

After getting through that we were at the base of Shiju-hattaki or “Forty-eight Waterfalls.” It was stunning. Four kilometers of streams and waterfalls lay at our feet. Looking up, we were beneath a thick coniferous canopy filtering the sun’s rays through several layers of green. The rocks were covered in a blanket of moss and the water was cool, pristine. I daydreamed about how nice taking a dip in one of the pools would be. The water was surprisingly brisk, actually. As a gaijin, I probably could have dove in without creating much of a stir− the Japanese are used to westerners acting like idiots.

About half way, we stopped off to enjoy Tsuchan’s onagiri and fruit. We dangled our feet in the water and took in the amazing creation surrounding us. We had the option of buying a bowl of udon from a food stand with a vending machine out front but stuck with what we had. Japan’s funny that way− it’s hard to venture anywhere without finding a vending machine someplace. I’ve seen them in the strangest of places; it’s a wonder they are hooked up to a power source at times.

After lunch, we continued along the path. For the most part, it’s an easy walk with only a few inclines and staircases− some with a pretty good drop off though. As we made our way down the path I noticed something slowly wrapping itself around the trunk of a tree.
It was a Garasu-Hiba snake slithering on up to the branches overhead. I guess Japan has quite a few but this was my first. It must have been close to five feet in length but less than a couple inches in diameter. We didn’t mess with it so it pretty much ignored us− I did take a video of it. I’m sure it was less curious of us than were we of her. I was just happy I didn’t step on her; had we came by a minute or two earlier, we could have had a nasty encounter underfoot.

Along the way, we noticed a tree that appeared to us as having a twisted grimace of a face on its trunk. The slippery thin layer of mildew added to its character. Tsuchan didn’t want me to take a photo of it but how could I resist? Of course, my camera was unable to give it justice but I took it just the same. There also some steep cliffs that exhibited faces reminiscent of those of Easter Island. When we reached the end of the path, we saw that we could have continued on but as it was, we had already gotten off to a late start. We hadn’t noticed how late until we made it back to the trailhead. I suppose that’s part of the reason for the hotel….

According to the bus schedule posted at the bus stop, the last one departed about 20 minutes prior to our arrival! Well, we decided we might as well eat dinner before heading on down the road to the station. There was a quaint, little café overlooking the valley that we were considering. A local couple who happened to be enjoying an afternoon meal noticed our situation and treated offered us a ride− on the condition that we join them at their table first. Against our objections, they paid for our meal. It turns out both were local artists and the gentleman sat on the board of a historical preservation council, dedicated to maintaining the traditional architecture prevalent on the area.

When we finished our meal, they took us back to the station and we exchanged meishi (business cards) and they asked us to visit their home in the future. I really want to go back someday. It was a great honor to be invited to share a second meal with them and see their home and studio. Insha’Allah, someday. Their graciousness and generosity is a quality that is far more common than home in the States. We found the same in Bali. I’m sure it used to be like that back home, too but sadly we’ve lost it for the most part. Hell, in a lot of places they’d chase you away− if you were a foreigner or didn’t speak the language a person could get shot. Not in Japan though. I’ve had people pull over in their car to help me with directions who couldn’t even speak English! I guess that’s the tradeoff for rugged individualism.

I highly recommend visit Shiju-hattaki if ever the opportunity presents itself. We did go during the week so there were hardly any other people around but I’m sure the weekend isn’t nearly as crowded as places near the city. A visit in autumn would be equally breathtaking. Maybe we’ll return then.