The North American Post Japan Trip participants stand with Mr. Hara in front of Tajimaya. Photo by Shigeki Kajita / The North American Post.
We found the detour to the Man and Woman Waterfalls. It was obvious which was which! I thought the Woman the most beautiful, flowing in rivulets over a white rock face etched with flecks of gold. One of our party saw our first trash, plastic bags in the stream, fished them out with a stick, and packed them all the way out. We were now looking down through groves of tall bamboo stalks on a broad, pale emerald river flowing smoothly around large white stones. It seemed that all the streams flowed into this one river.
We started passing terraced rice paddies trying to grow one more cutting before winter and neglected looking farmhouses. Gradually the homes started looking more inhabited, with potted eggplant and red pepper plants outside the doorways. Our fledgling hiker was by now barefoot. An oversized straw horse greeted us and we followed the dusty, winding road down into Tsumago.
We had been following the route of the old Nakasendo, one of five postal routes between Edo and Kyoto before the advent of the railroad. Our feet had followed the (probably) shoed feet of tradesmen, mail carriers, pilgrims, merchants and other travelers who found food and rest at way stations (juku) like Magome and Tsumago.
The snacks were wearing off, so we found a soba shop. Afterwards we poked around in the shops and watched people weaving baskets and doing other crafts. I bought chopsticks made from hinoki, the close-grained birch tree the area is known for. It is this tree that nakanori-san rode down the river to waiting ships. We found our bus back with the help of a Chinese tourist. He could not speak Japanese, but he could read the kanji on the sign. I was curious about a big red button by my seat and was embarrassed to find it was a stop request button.
That night after dinner, we sat around the irori talking until Mr. Hara announced the song and dance lesson. We moved to the side to watch as we had taken the class the night before, struggling to learn the song sung by the nakanori-san as they rode the hinoki down the Kiso river.
The Japanese did better than we did with the lyrics (no surprise) but also with the dance. It was because the moves were the same as for Obon dance, which everyone is familiar with. As the weather was warmer, this class donned wooden soled geta and followed Mr. Hara out to the street. He put two lanterns down on the cobblestones where they pushed back the dark as the Japanese danced around them, singing Kiso no naa, nakanori-san… yoi yoi yoi no yoi yoi yoi!