Jeffery A.
Yelp
Japan: you are a tightness in my throat; a quiver in my lips; a wink of my eye; a freezing of my heart.
Starting with the opening of Japan by the Convention of Kanagawa, Admiral Matthew Perry set Japan on a road to modernism, militarism, war, destruction, rebirth, industrialism, and monetarism...in short capitalism.
In 2004, Unesco designated Yoshinoyama (Mount Yoshino, yama means mountain, useful? Class dismissed!) a world Heritage site, along with Koyasan, and Kumana, for their religious treasures and pilgrimage trails. Unesco (never doubt it!) is the modern version of Admiral Perry. Along with a Unesco seal of approval comes capitalism, it's just a more direct path.
Any place Unesco touches instantly becomes a tourist attraction. Visitors flock to these destinations in droves and along with them comes the destruction of that sight which Unesco hoped to preserve.
Gone are my days of wondering the majestic towering cedar and cypress trees of Koyasan. Where the mist of the morning dew lingers in the air like a Maiko's face, the rising sun her plump red lips.
A time of quite contemplation under the maples, with their fiery autumn foliage in Miyajima. Where the baboons still roam the tip of that Hershey Kiss shaped island, freely baring their razor sharp teeth at frightened interlopers.
The subtle beauty and craftsmanship of the Uji bridge, rebuilt every twenty years to coincide with the Shinto beliefs of death and renewal...the impermanence of all things.
Yoshinoyama, the mountain of sakura, has been overrun. Still...I seek enlightenment.
The rain came down. It washed the paved road a glistening onyx, and brought the moss covered stones to life. Hanami had started to pass on the lower Shimo-senbon. The sakura had thinned, and a gentle breeze was sending the snowflake shaped pink and white petals to the ground.
Mount Yoshino is divided into four separate areas with 5-6 miles of steep uphill climb. The lower Shimo area and the upper Oku, with Naka and Kami-senbon (senbon means a "thousand" trees) in between. Yoshino is said to be planted with 30,000 sakura. According to elevation and time in April, one area will most likely be in full bloom. There are buses that can transport you from one area to the next, but if you are here, travel the way the pilgrims did, hike it. It will be worth the effort.
Each senbon has it's on thriving arcade, where restaurants spot the area and souvenir shops hawk their wears. A place to grab a beer, meal, lite snack, or tour one of the ancient temples which mark each level. These areas are also the bus depots and are crawling.
I am glad it was raining, for on a better day the crowds would have been thicker. Still, tourist (yes! I'm a tourist! But I have been coming to Japan for near twenty years!) are packed into the cable cars like cattle. If you are carrying your entire vacation in a backpack and not planning to stay the night, do yourself and others a favor and use the coin lockers available at Yoshino station.
As I began my journey, I struck up a conversation with two obaasan, and was delighted to hear them tell how they had climbed this path each year for the last thirty years, and struck by their sadness that this year could very well be their last. Finality...
Leaving them, I promised that if I happened upon them on my way down, and they were in need, I would carry them. We all laughed. They were 88 and 90, and this is no walk in the park. I never saw them again, but will always remember.
Moving upward, Yoshino slowly came into full bloom, and it is easy to understand how the Japanese passion for these ephemeral blossoms is almost a spiritual thing.
After Kami, the way grows dramatically steeper. As my back began to ache and my quads tightened, I thought of the obaasan. Could they have been pulling my leg?
I pushed myself to the upper most shrine, Kinpu, the mountain landscape changed. Gone were the moss covered boulders, underbrush, and towering cypress. Charred tree stumps lines each side of the road way, and the expected beauty of the Sakura vanished. Early April there had been a fire, reportedly caused by a cigarette butt. I felt like the Lorax as a scaled an embankment and surveyed the desolation.
At the final torii, just before Kinpu Shrine, the world turned green again, the shrine had been saved. I took out a C.C. Lemon, removed the cap, and took a swallow, added some Grey Goose, and looked back down the valley at the wreckage of mankind and to the beauty of Kami beyond. A hollow feeling basting my stomach. Japanese workers lined the firebreak areas, and they were planting new sakura...rebirth.
"But now...now that you're here, the word of the Lorax seems perfectly clear. UNLESS someone like you cares a awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not." Aloha
