(
Better Know a City)
Monday June 8, 2009
Even before heading out to Maetsue, I knew it would be a small little country town with not much in it. Everybody told me there was nothing there. And, they were right.
I drove down to
Oyama town, and then turned off towards Maetsue by Oyama dam.
So far I've visited a lot of what I call small "mountain towns" on
this project , by which I usually mean a town in a small valley surrounded by mountains. Maetsue is a mountain town in the sense that the whole town seems to be on a mountain side. Even driving through it you notice immediately that the schools, town hall, post office, and grocery store are all built on the side of the mountain along a road sloping up.
Initially I just drove past the main street area (I would return to it later) and kept driving up the hill to see what I would find.
The main attraction in Maetsue was apparently Tsubakigahana Highland Park, and all the signs pointed up to it.
I followed the signs up the mountain. When I saw a sign for Oimatsu shrine, I took a brief detour and stopped there.
I'm not exactly sure what there was to see at Oimatsu shrine. There was a temple, with a parking lot. A path lead behind the temple to another shrine (Kyuhonden, I think, was the name of it).
There were some more signs and even a bit of a map here, but I had a hard time making anything out. Apparently behind the shrine was a nature trail for something called "Yuzuriha natural forest", but I couldn't find anything. I made several false starts down what looked like they might have been natural trails at one time, but I couldn't find anything.
In the opposite direction was a sign pointing towards (hopefully I'm reading this right) Gyakushuto. What was Gyakushuto? Well, I had no idea. But I had nothing better to do than follow the signs and see where it went.
I followed the sign a short distance, and I found myself wandering into a farmer's field. This is actually pretty standard in the countryside, actually. You find yourself wandering through farmer's fields to get to the historical markers all the time.
In this case, however, two dogs shattered the morning quiet by suddenly letting forth a vicious fusillade of barking. I hadn't noticed the dogs before, and the sudden noise startled the bejeezus out of me. I jumped up about a meter.
Feeling that this path was leading nowhere, I turned and walked back to the sign to try and figure out where I had gone wrong.
I went back to the sign and the map. It was pointing in that direction all right. But there was nothing there but the field and the dogs.
I was just about to give up, when I saw a farmer staring at me intently. I nodded at him. He nodded back, and didn't move and kept standing still staring at me. "He must wonder what this strange foreigner is doing wandering around and disturbing his dogs," I thought.
I decided I should go over and ask him for directions to Gyakushuto. That way he would at least know I was a sight-seer, and not some strange guy wandering around his property.
I started walking towards him, and as I got closer to him I could see that the reason he hadn't been moving is because he was in the middle of relieving himself.
Public urination (by males at least)is perfectly acceptable in the Japanese countryside. I couldn't begin to count the number of times I've seen an old Japanese man relieving himself in public in full view of everyone when there was a restroom just 20 feet away.
The question now is do I keep walking towards him and try to ignore the fact that he was urinating, or do I do an abrupt about face and walk away.
I decided the latter would just compound the embarrassment for both of us, so I decided to keep walking and pretend I didn't notice anything.
I was reminded of a time in Fukuoka when I was with a group of friends, and
Usa Chris asked one of the ramen stall vendors for directions. The man calmly pulled up his pants, and politely gave directions to Chris. Something of the Japanese equivalent of, "Well, ya' see here, what you want to do is go down that street over there and..." Only after we had left did the rest of us point out to Chris that the man had been relieving himself at the time. Chris hadn't noticed, and the man answered his question so casually and without any sense of embarrassment that it was obviously no big deal to him to be caught with his pants down. I decided to try and hope for the same result now.
(Incidentally, I know I'm getting slightly off topic here but just as a side note, after I noticed that man was relieving himself right next to his ramen stall, and after I noticed he went right back to work without washing his hands, I've never been able to eat at Fukuoka's famous outdoor ramen stalls again).
I slowed down my walk so that the farmer was able to finish all his business by the time I approached him. I showed him my notebook, in which I had written down the kanji of Gyakushuto, and asked him where it was. I didn't catch his reply perfectly, but it was something like, "Well,I don't really know. But you better go down to the end of the path, and knock at the door of the second house on the right. They'll be able to take you to it."
"Okay," I said, thinking in my head, "well, nuts to this. I didn't want to see that stupid Gyakushoto that badly anyway."
"Do you think you can find the house? I can walk down there with you if you like."
"No, no thank you very much, but I think I can find it on my own."
Very likely Gyakushuto was just some sort of special rock with an historical marker next to it. If the people living right next to it didn't know where it was in their own backyard, it obviously wasn't worth seeing. And I certainly didn't want to put anyone to any trouble.
I thanked the farmer, and then went on my way. As I left, I heard him shout back to someone in the house, "he was trying to find Gyakushuto. He's just a sight-seer."
As soon as I was out of sight from him, I left the path and gave up on tracking down Gyakushuto and any of the other sights on the sign or map.
There was a small pavilion on a hill. And at one time there had been a path leading up to it, although it was all overgrown with grass now.
I'm not sure if this was one of this historical sights or not.
As long as I had my car stopped, I took a few minutes to wander around the neighborhood, and got some pictures of this small rice farming village up in the mountains.
There were also some grave stones marked Shaka no Yurai (The origins of Shaka?). I'm not sure what there significance was, but I took some pictures anyway.
After this, I got back in the car and continued following the road up to Tsubakigahana Highland Park.
The park was up high in the mountains (hence the name) and there were actually several parts to it. The first was the top of Shaka mountain.
There was a road leading up to the top of Shaka mountain, which I drove up with my car.
It was a long, steep, winding drive. My poor engine made a strained whirring sound the whole time, and I worried about the strain this was putting on my K-car (
W).
Eventually I made it to the top. There was a good view, as you would expect. You could see several mountains in the distance, and there was a map there explaining all the different mountains. Because it was slightly cloudy that day, I couldn't see the mountains furthest off in the distance, but you can't be too greedy about these kinds of things.
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