Fish Market
It was a hundred and eight degrees when I boarded the train in Vancouver, WA to Tacoma. Hard to pack and get things done in such heat. I have no air conditioning and above 100 degrees I think my fan might be hurting more than helping.
In Tacoma, I slept at Bix’s house, really Jean’s house, in the second story, high above downtown Tacoma. Jean was a survivor of the US concentration camps for people of Japanese descent in WWII. She was there as a child and then lived in the house until old age. Bix lives there now. It was a fitting starting point. Bix had cranes painted on the side of the house in honor of this trip and of Jean.
Journey of Repentance Pilgrims in front of Jean's House in Tacoma, Washington
I got up early to finish stringing the thousands of cranes I folded. It was still reasonably cool. Then everyone and then some arrived, we did our send off and then were in the airport. By the time we got there, Louie was already being interviewed by the Japanese National Press. We posed for about 30 shots and within a few hours were on the plane to Tokyo.
Until you get to downtown Tokyo, other than the few traditional style homes, it looks pretty much like western Washington or Oregon. Lots of green and non-descript buildings. We arrived at the hotel late, a traditional Japanese family style hotel with small rooms outfitted with tatami mats and sleeping pads. I’m in a two person room with the documentary filmmaker and Joann, a fellow pilgrim. I scored on the roommate selection. We did well together and our room is cool and quiet. I brought my thermarest and a sheet and was glad I did. I slept ok. Ambien helped.
Up at 4 am for a shower in the basement. The hot baths were not filled, it’s traditional to bathe in the evening in Japan. As usual, I swim against the flow. The hotel owners made us coffee and set out homegrown blueberries for us. Perfect start for the day. At 5:30 am, we were off to the fish market. This is one big fish market, probably the biggest in the world. Mitch, or (his given Japanese name) used to work there. It is busy, it is noisy. But it does not smell of fish. The fish is the freshest available so no fishy smell. There are acres and acres of fish. Eels, octopus, squid, every kind of shell fish you can think of, big honking fish, the tiniest silver fish and even tinier dried eels. I saw no women working in the market. They don’t care for tourists there, we gunk up the system. This is an orchestra of quick moving people, carts, boxes and fish. There is no conductor, they don’t need one. They are in a fast paced dance with a lot of fast runs. By 7 am, it is over. Pack the unsold fish in Styrofoam boxes and ice and cart it out of there. Hundreds of little electric carts zoom off down streets and alleys to deliver what was purchased.
Fish Market
Fish Filet
Open Air Market
Fileting Eels
For Louie, this was a meaningful visit. His father was a fish distributor in Los Angeles and visited this very market. When Louie became a vegetarian, he kept eating fish until his father’s death, out of respect.
Fish Market
As for me, I bought roasted soy beans and dried apricots in the market. We wandered the streets of Tokyo and were back by 9 am.
Cutting Blocks of Ice in the Market
