I almost completely forgot to make a few comments about my little outing into Yabakei/Innai/Ajimu (apart from the bit about the kindly manju man) and I suppose it wasn't the most eventful day, but a couple notable moments cropped up along the way. After the manju we headed back to the scene of one of Maia and my early crimes, namely the temple of Rakanji. Strangely enough, while browsing around the lower grounds I spotted a sparrow or finch or something with his head stuck in the gap of a power pole guy line plastic protective wrapping. I'd bet to a bird the wrapping looks to be a perfect nesting location, but it turned out to be made of a slippery plastic which the bird no doubt couldn't grip and fell into. We opened the gap and let it go, but discovered a grisly secret--this was by far not the first time a similar event had occurred judging by the amount of bird skeletons in there.
This time around at the temple, perhaps reflecting our more health-conscious attitudes, instead of taking the miniature ski lift we scaled a really not-so-difficult slope to the cliff grotto housing both parts of the temple. Unable to resist the allure, same as last time, we purchased a spoon and left our incomprehensible mark on the temple...which they probably removed immediately after (our previous one was gone too and, upon closer inspection, there's a notice about placing spoons that are not specifically prayers).
Why ever did we take the ski lift up in the first place when there's this wonderful gate and a half-kilometer Stairmaster to deliver us to spoon n' cave heaven?
From Rakanji it's a half hour drive over twisty, narrow mountain roads to Innai and our next destination, a quaint little, uh, restaurant called Hayashinchi. The reason I hesitate in calling it a restaurant properly is because of both the atmosphere and the name—the place is indistinguishable from a mountain family home, replete with dog running around the grounds, plus the name means simply “Hayashi's House”. But hey, they had tofu cuisine so we couldn't resist. Actually, I ordered a local mountain stream fish and Maia got what was essentially a tofu egg roll and both were excellent. Another local eatery to hit up again before legging it. There was one issue with the place though—the kids. Being somebody's house, the owner's kids were home and loud as hell, but worse than that is the fact that they were visibly abusing their dog. Hitting him, running their bike into him and getting him tangled in rope was their idea of play and I seethed while watching it. After lunch the two of us approached the dog and found it to be playful and wanting a lot of affection. Whoever planted that seed in the mass consciousness of children's innocence was a charlatan.
If you can comprehend this spoon then you need more help than we.
We sort of meandered down the mountain and over some hills to the town of Ajimu, an area of the prefecture known for making wine. I've had this wine before and let me tell you, they may be known for making it, but that doesn't mean it's any good. I shudder at the thought of it sluicing down my gullet. The town is nicer and more expansive than I had previously believed and the rolling hills surrounding it are also quite pleasant, reminding me that I need to get the bike down here and tackle some of the up-and-down roller coaster terrain. Well outside the town, most of the way to Beppu even, I spotted a tiny, intriguing wooden sign off on the right: with an arrow pointing right it said “Trappist”. At first I thought about beer, and who knows, maybe there was a mountaintop brewery in Ajimu. Stranger things have happened in Japan, that's for sure. As we wound up and up and up, past the evil eyes of some very wary farmers, just as Maia's bladder was about to explode, we came upon...a Trappist Monastery. Whoa. Turns out this is one of three such monasteries in Japan and here it is smack dab in Oita. No monks were around to talk to, unfortunately, but had there been I think the conversation would have began and ended with “Where is your bathroom?”
--Matt
Posts
2 comments:
The thing with children is that they don't necessarily get proper empathy until they are five or six (usually - really at that age they gain the _capability_ to understand others' mental states). It's possible that the whole 'childhood is to be extended as long as possible' thing applies here. (Also, ironically, children with pets are supposed to be more empathetic. Goes to show.)
As regards dogs, they are (often) so eager for human attention that they will completely just take the bad with the good. The one you saw must have been raised with a lot of human contact, which is usually a good thing because it makes for a dog who imprints on people and won't hurt them or treat them like dogs (nip children, etc). So it's a really good dog, who loves people so much he just deals with it when they hurt him. Kind of terrible, really.
--Karla
Yeah, plus I think he was a German shepherd,and I would guess that a dog bred for herding sheep (ie: performing a service to humans) would also be bred to be docile towards them? Ugh, those hellspawn kids are in for a surprise if they ever try those antics on a strange (and less friendly) dog. I'd file that under "education" for sure.
Post a Comment