NOTE: I am back in the US now. This is the continuation of our series showcasing the interesting and beautiful Japan that is largely untouched by last years disaster. It is the counterpoint to our disaster related work of last year.

Yokohama is the more outgoing sibling of Tokyo. Located southwest of Tokyo center it is the second largest city in Japan (a fact I didn't know until today ~ always thought it was Osaka). It is a port town with a long history of trading. It houses the largest Chinatown I have been in (I think) and it also has an old cemetery called the foreigners cemetery where many foreigners in years past were buried.

After a tranquil time in Takayama and Kyoto I wasn't quite feeling the hustle and bustle of Chinatown on a holiday so Amie and I set out on a different path and visited Isezaki-cho. This shopping street (which required two side by side board to map out) was the central shopping street in Yokohama in times past. It has been overtaken by the massive malls and shopping centers closer to Yokohama station and the harbor. But, it certainly has a lot of character and characters in it.

I enjoy people watching and this is a little cross section of people we saw on a warm spring evening. It was children's day and colorful carp adorned the street celebrating the festival.

If you are visiting yokohama you will no doubt see minato-mirai and the massive developments that draw tourists from all over Japan.

It is a spectacular locale for sure.

Continuing our series covering the classic and beautiful Japan as a contrast to our previous disaster related work. This is by no means to gloss over the evolving tragedy in Tohoku / Fukushima but to provide a contrast showcasing the beauty of the rest of Japan. We continue to follow and develop Fukushima and Tokhoku related work.

I am not sure how I first learned of Ryoanji. What I remember is the impression that it is a classic example of aesthetic beauty and design which still has value in modern design. It isn't the old buildings or the amazing living gardens. It is the the "Rock Garden" that draws the attention of crowds. Seeing these signs I was reminded of my expectation to see Chris Cornell at the end of the path.

For reasons that I haven't really considered I find the wall more compelling that the rocks in the garden. It is said that there is always one rock that you cannot see at any given given point when sitting along the garden. But, the shy rocks floating in their manicured sea of white pebbles was only the salad to my beautiful wall. I think this is supposed to be the opposed of the desired goal; the ugly wall is designed to offset the beauty of the white pebbles. But, hidden in those discolored walls are all the pigments of my imagination.

Also compelling if you like green things is the moss garden sitting on the right side of the rock garden. Ryoanji was relatively crowded and it become more busy as the morning went on. So it is easier to move on from the wall view onto the other gardens. But, Amie and I were contented to sit along the wall, snap images of this and that for quite some time before moving on.

Almost forgotten is the interior of the building which is open though not walkable. I must admit I barely gave it a glance. I probably spent more time photographing the genkan (entrance way where you take off your shoes) than observing the interior of the building.

No photographic visit of Ryoanji is complete without the stone pool located at the back of the main building. I couldn't help it - I wanted to shoot it though it has become something of a visual cliche. The combination of stone, water, and bamboo was too much for me to ignore.

Walking out the exit if you hook right you find yourself in gardens which seem to be largely passed by. Other than the bizarre 1970's era "Pagoda" (it's called the "Pagoda" phonetically using katakana) there is so much rich lush natural beauty that we probably spent as much time in these gardens as in front of the wall.

Eventually if hunger overcomes you as it did us I recommend you stop into the Yudofu restaurant located in these gardens. Hidden behind their little gate is another world of gardens. More compact but in some ways more splendid it is a perfect setting to sit by the open terrace and eat the Kyoto speciality known as Yudofu (boiled tofu). Despite sounding like it would have as much character as white rice it was rich with flavor if a little lacking in texture. The experience is heightened by the tranquil relief off the busy beaten path. Amie insisted we stop in and I'm glad she did (boiled tofu wasn't high on my list of hunger quenching foods).

On the way out you pass a pond which leaves nothing to the imagination of how the stone gardens came to have their linear, water-like, patterns.

Done with Ryoanji we were faced with some decision making. We had been southeast, northeast, gion, central, northwest, and now north central. We could go to kinkakuji or we we could scoot back to Kyoto station and hop a train south to the city of Uji. Uji won with the promise of Byodoin (the nearly 1200 year old wooden temple that has to be one of the oldest wooden structure in Japan still in its original condition).

You will discover that Uji is famous for its green tea. If you didn't know it already the dozens of tea oriented shops selling everything from hard candies to ice cream would be a good clue. Apparently well represented in the classic Japanese story the "Tale of Genji" we didn't really know what to expect.

I don't want to sound jaded but after 5 days of seeing many temples and natural wonders it didn't seem like an old temple, no matter how old, would be all that interesting. But, Byodoin is in a league all its own. It is stunning. I'm not sure if it is the age, the amazing condition, or just the awesome designs and patterns that harken to Japan's Korean and Chinese roots; but it was stunning. We lined up in a cue that seemed to promise that this was going to suck. We were visiting on what had to be one of the busiest days to travel in Japan. But, despite the hundred person line (and there is more than one entrance); once we were in it didn't feel crowded. Busy; yes. Crowded; no. It almost didn't matter. The view was really something special.

If you don't have time or inclination to visit Uji look on the back of a ten yen coin and get the 2 second tour of the building. On a technical note this way probably the only time during our trip that I wished I had a point and shoot handy with its incredibly small sensor but unbelievably deep depth of field to capture the 10 yen coin and the building in the same shot.

With an hour or so to spare we decided forgo the splendor of Fushimi-inari. It would have been nice but rather than rush through Uji just to take in one more temple it seemed better to admire the flooding river (the path along the river was submerged) and enjoy the pleasant walk back to Uji station.

Back in Kyoto we ate some food and prepared to hit the road back to Yokohama. Certainly not the end of our trip Kyoto left its indelible mark with the contrast between modern metropolis and historical mecca.

Technical note: All exposure are single exposures with minimal post processing for all Japan images. Except for panoramic exposures (which will include "pano" in their name).

NOTE: This series of Japan blog posts is designed to offer a counterpoint to the disaster coverage we did last year. Tourism in Japan is down by over 70% but this is a bit like not visiting California in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina. So, we wanted to make sure that we aren't just posting disaster imagery and stories (though we continue to follow those stories as well). Also, for the technically inclined this was our field testing of the new Tamron 24-70mm 2.8 VC (though many lenses including Canon L and Sigma prime were used).

Kyoto Day 2

After an early power breakfast provided by 7-11 we headed off to Kyoto station. Having learned my lesson of day one; I now understood that the maps that make everything look so close together are describing an area the size of Boston - not everything is walkable.

With a short train ride and getting lost only once on the walk we arrived at Daikakuji temple. Originally founded approximately 1200 years ago as the imperial summer palace, this temple resides in the northwest corner of Kyoto. Kyoto city is surrounded by mountains and overflowing with temples. But, unlike Takayama it is a city with many industries including advanced technology companies like Kyocera. So, while Kyoto station is like any major Japanese station at morning rush hour - the area near Daikakuji was nearly empty.

The rain was coming down today which isn't a big deal if you are simply sightseeing but if you are taking photos it does provide an extra level of complexity to every action. Amie is shown here wearing rain gear (with just the green coating of her lens showing her camera).

The remnants of blossoming flowers filled the small river outside the temple looking like candy floating on the water. Much of the temple interior is banned from photography but in many respects it didn't really matter. The temple was tranquil and a warm breeze washed over us as we walked along the covered exterior wooden walkways. The temple is unusual in that it has walkways that squeak like the "nightingale floors" of Nijo castle.

We stayed out of the way of the monks who moved quickly from place to place carrying what appeared to be cleaning supplies. The monks moved with purpose and seemed to ignore, with no disrespect, the travelers who were occupying their halls. If I had been lighting something on fire they would probably have said something to me (or used one of the many available fire extinguishers to douse me) but aside from that I think there is a mutual disconnect of the two worlds though we shared the same space.

I sat for some time near the pond just enjoying the breeze and listening to the sounds of the wind and rain. There is something special about that breeze that the Studio Ghibli crew captures so well in their Anime movies set in the Japanese countryside.

Up and about again I came across two women who were discussing the arrangement of a vase of flowers. I watched them for a while until I felt like it would be appropriate to interrupt them with my very considered question of "what are you doing?"

It turns out they were doing quite a bit. It wasn't simply that they were putting some flowers in a vase they explained to me that this temple is the home of the Saga Goryu school of Ikebana (Japanese flower arrangement). They showed me their magazine and gave me both a historical overview and a brief introduction to the concepts underlying their designs. Many of the designs contain, in a vertical layout, heaven, earth, and man. I knew Ikebana was special before I met them; but I didn't really start to understand it until they explained the concepts to me. It is so wonderfully Japanese to have an aesthetically pleasing, technically challenging, and fleeting experience such as the one offered by Ikebana arrangement (with a deep spiritual underpinning to it all).

Having spent far longer than we originally planned taking in Daikakuji we hopped a cab to near the top of the Arashiyama trail. In theory you can spend a wonderful day walking up the trail. We found that you can spend an equally wonderful half-day walking down it (though we never did make the end of it).

The rain was off and on and we were getting hungry. But, no food until we had spent some more time trekking first upward past Toriimoto. We didn't really know what was up the hill. As it turned out there wasn't anything really, just a major road and some inns. But, on the way down we heard the strangest wood cutting instrument. Or tortured children. It wasn't clear which. Then we heard it again and again. I joked it could be monkeys thinking this was about as far fetched as I could imagine. But, Amie retorted that there is a monkey park in Kyoto and so she turned around. A glance upward above the landslide barrier and we saw the gray figure of a monkey walking away from us! Needless to say the next 30 minutes were spent photographing monkeys from a distance that made me wish I had a lens longer than 200mm on me (and not for the last time this trip). If we were observed by locals we probably would have looked as silly as the Japanese tourists who speak in squeaky excited tones upon seeing squirrels for the first time (which we observed in Kamakura). Monkeys are probably just about as common in this area as squirrels are for us (a bit of hyperbole perhaps... maybe more like a skunk sighting in this area). But, for us, wild primates are relegated to National Geographic so this was just about as good as it gets for an animal sighting for us.

Monkeyed out we walked down to Adashino nembutsuji. A solemn place filled with thousands of small statues dedicated to the unknown dead who had been brought to this temple from the region. According to legend the temple was founded by Kokai in the 9th century. Since Heian times bodies have been abandoned here, perhaps too poor to be buried the remains would be burned. Though not pictured there is also a small sanctuary dedicated to unborn children lost to miscarriage or abortion. Surrounded by toys and lit by electric light it is both a lively and sad sanctuary (with restrictions on photography and other activities). The toys seem to speak to what could have been, the ambitions of the loving parents who left them here.

In the back of the temple area, as a path between the two cemeteries, there is a bamboo grove. Though there are probably larger and more epic bamboo groves in Kyoto (in fact there is one at the bottom of the trail that we never made it to) this one satisfied my need to be surrounded by this amazing grass. Bamboo is such a critical building material in Japan, and greater asia, that is respected and admired in all its form. I happen to really enjoy eating bamboo shoots but I don't think the grounds keeper would have appreciated my rooting around like a pig after truffles looking for tasty treats hidden in the earth.

Down toward the bottom of the trail we stopped in at the restaurant we learned was the top pick according to Canadian travel guides for Arashiyama food "komichi." Though not a Kyoto specialty we enjoyed soba and udon and the bizzare tofu experience called goma-dofu (sesame infused tofu).

We managed to get lost one more time on the way back to the station. But, not before we stopped into one more beautiful temple (which had the key amenity of a bathroom I may add) and a very nice statue (which I will find the name for on another day). A short hop back to Kyoto station and we took the free amusement park ride also known as the 11 stories of open-air escalators to the top of the station building. If you take the time to ride to the top, walk through the food section of Isetan dept. sor (eating samples of bacon along the way) you can go down one story and enter the darkest and most poorly marked sky bridge I have ever seen. Amie thought I was entering a restricted area when I pulled open the door.

As we stood next to the couple making out (them not us) looking out onto the Kyoto tower it struck me that being suspended 11 stories in the air above Kyoto station would probably be an uncomfortable place to be in an earthquake. Security walked by us twice while we were up there - I think this has something to do with the almost pitch black we were standing in. It's strange place.

We traveled back down into the basement level, got some dinner, and called it a day. It was a quiet day almost devoid of contact with other travelers - quite a contrast to what would come.

As we're winding down this evening I'm going to rock through this post. I'm tired and doing the head nodding thing at the keyboard.

Takayama is beautiful. But, perhaps just as much as Takayama city area is beautiful I think the countryside may hold its own wonders. We'll have to explore this region again and do all the trips requiring a bit of time on the bus.

Starting with the morning market, a cafe, Hida no Sato folk village with its old buldings, and much more we wound our way around today and made the most of a busy day.

The funny thing is that even as the day was relatively busy it didn't feel rushed. We took our time; smelled the sweet mountain air and watched as sakura petals floated by our heads.

There are many local crafts here and they are very proud of the local beef. Some may say this area is even better than Kobe; though certainly not as well known overseas.

This being "Golden Week" the major Japanese holiday week it was expected that this area would be packed with tourists. While the television news makes it sounds like Takayama is bustling with tourists my only observation is that Takayama on a busy day (Today) is like Meiji Shrine on its quietest day.

I was surprised to find myself in a large beautiful shrine as the sun was starting to set all by myself (a major attraction where the massive festivals floats are kept). I can't imagine that Kyoto will give me the same opportunity for stillness and reflection. Everywhere we go the sakura petals falls from the sky like snow but none so poingnantly as the empty shrine. It was beautiful.

A bit of hiking and we found ourselves overlooking the city as the sun set over the nearby mountains. It was a great day.

Todays photos are detail oriented but of course there is a lot more variety to come. After shooting so many images I only have a chance to pull a handful before bed.

Even as many people are still living in shelters; the school lunches in the hardest hit areas are providing only the basic nutritional value. The cooking facilities were badly damaged by the tsunami. In the Minami-Sanrikucho area the caloric value of the school lunch is down (it is 500kcal vs. the previous 750kcal). The students moved from 4 days a week of rice with their meal to one day a week. They now have bread, jelly, and milk. In June an X item was added. It may be a chunk of lettuce or other vegetable item. On occasion they will receive a small piece of fried fish.

After people leave the primary evacuation facility (such as a gymnasium) they are usually placed in temporary housing. But, the temporary housing may be far away from their town. Schooling and bussing becomes a major issue. It may be hours each way.

The reality is that the temporary housing (shown above) has paper thin walls. From the right doorway to the corner is one house. It is better than a gym; but it is still not much of a place to live. I am concerned that out of sight is out of mind. Once people are out of immediate danger their plight becomes less of a focal point. But, the underlying problems remain and the future remains uncertain. The young man (shown) and his parents live in this space. He is the 23 year old youth leader of the evacuation center. His story will come later.

*note: When I am sleepy my writing becomes choppy; sorry. more to come.

At this point in my trip I have seen many places and met many people. For many that I met there is no going home. For some that is because their town was destroyed. For some it is because their house was destroyed. But, for those from certain parts of Fukushima it is because they aren't allowed home.

I know in terms of chronological order this is going to throw off my blogging but it's on my mind. I have a lot of things from the Iwate and Miyagi area that I haven't even touched on. But, at this moment it is far from my mind.

I visited Fukushima, Japan with a closed mind. Nuclear disaster - geopolitics - and a story overshadowing the human tragedy up North - that was how I felt. Fukushima had wiped out the tsunami story from the western news; a primary reason for me trip. The nuclear disaster is the sexy news story - it is easy to rile people up over it. But, I had forgotten the people. Even with my own stated goal of putting a face to the stories from Japan; I had forgetting the people of Fukushima. They opened my eyes by being frank and blunt. Something that does not come naturally to them. They told me that they are no good at talking. But, they spoke and told me things that raised the hair on the back of my neck.

Hibakusha (which I suppose translates to Person Injured by Radiation) is a term that is not used lightly in Japan. When I was in college there was a guy who used to give me a hard time whenever I gave him a hard time by saying "Didn't we bomb you?" I could have punched him in the nose but it was so ignorant that I couldn't even be bothered.

Those who are Hibakusha from the war have a special legal status; as do their children. For better or worse they are separate and unequal. They are given different (and I gather better) medical care and I believe there are other considerations. But, it is a badge that you do not want to show. You are the undesirable. I'm not sure I understand it per se; but I know there is a stigma.

So, when my father mentioned the people of Fukushima being hibakusha I was offended. It was a term I had no intention of even thinking about before I went to meet these people. I am tempted to draw parallels with other things like racist names, et cetera but I think you get the idea. You don't call people you don't know Hibakusha lightly. It wouldn't be a term I would want to use.

What I could not anticipate was that the people themselves are hibakusha and call themselves such. I did not know that some had been covered by radiactive ash. I did not expect them to have to carry a slip of paper indicating that they are not radioctive (in effect - the paper says "the results of the tests were negative." It was your passport into the evacuation centers.

Sadly there are some terrible things going on with regards to discrimination against these people. Speaking to a realtor when they ask where you are from and hear "Fukushima" suddenly they don't have any apartments available.

But being from Fukushima is like being from Massachusetts. It is a wide area. There is ocean and there are mountains. But, they are all being painted with the same brush in the media. Businesses who rely on tourism hours away from the power plant are failing. They have no radiative fallout. They are in almost a different climate than the coastline.

Fukushima is a beloved place for everyone I met. No one has said they want to leave. But, in their heart of hearts some are starting to wonder. Will they ever go home?

For those who are unaware; the police are not permitting people to enter the mandatory evacuation zone. Money is tight. Lodgings are dubious and it has been over 3 months from the accident. Some, like Mr. Shiga from Namie, Fukushima, pictured near the barrier above, will never go home because his house was simply washed away. He barely escaped. Now with a 3 year old mortgage and no house to sell nor buyers for his land what does he have? His insurance would not cover a Tsunami. He is lucky - he still has a job. He can take care of his children. His company has not reduced salaries yet though the sales have been cut dramatically. As he told me; the bank needs him more than he needs the bank. (Ed: I met two Mr. Shiga's - unrelated - only one pictured here)

What then of Kaya? A 5th grader from Futaba who has already moved once during the school year. Her family brought nothing more than the clothes on their backs. She lived within 10km of the Fukushima plant that exploded. Many lost even the clothes they were wearing because they had been contaminated by radiation. Can you imagine what that would feel like. Stripping your clothes off as you stand in a medical line being metered by a stranger; it is a terrible thing. Only then to be handed a little slip of paper saying this person is safe. For Kaya the future is uncertain; she must move again within the next 2 months as her allowed primary evacuation center time runs out.

More to come

Mr. Ayukai's family has been in the Kesennuma area for over 300 years. His first name is Munefusa. His sons are Muneshige and Munetoshi. As the ancestral lords of Kesennuma they have a certain place within the community. Their garden is a public garden; their home is an evacuation area. The house overlooks their neighborhood in Kesennuma city.

In the pictures at the top of this page you can see the destruction. If you take his neighborhood and combine it with the adjacent neighborhood (just beyond the concrete building in the distant center of the photo) you have roughly 340 houses. Of the 340 homes you should be able to see; 320 homes are gone. The remaining homes are on the hillside like Mr. Ayukai's home. The neighborhood (or town) across the river decided to dissolve as a legal entity. There is nothing left.

While Munefusa was at work Makiko Ayukai (a former english teacher) was with their boys. When the earthquake struck she took them to the entrance of the house. She didn't go outside for fear of falling objects from the face of the house. It was a long quake, most people say over two minutes. Combined with the Magnitude of 9.0 - it was truly exceptional.

The tsunami came less than an hour later. No one knew that it would be so big. It came within a few vertical meters of their house - covering the lower garden by over a meter in height. She watched as the tsunami destroyed her neighborhood. But, like everyone else, she ran for higher ground when she realized this was like nothing she had ever experienced.

Muneshige and Munetoshi are little boys. Munetoshi is just a baby. Muneshige is still terrified of earthquakes. He told me we would have to go to high ground if a tsunami came. A sad truth for such a young boy to recognize (I believe he is 5?).

I inquired about their thoughts on moving and much more. But, that is a story for another day. The strange reality is that despite all the personal items on the empty foundations - they have nothing to do with the home beneath them. They just washed around and ended up on the concrete. The contents of a given house may be kilometers away.

more to come - including visiting Fukushima.