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Junior high school students have participated in a life-size version of shogi, a traditional Japanese board game, at Himeji Castle in western Japan.

Source: Human shogi played at Himeji Castle - News - NHK WORLD - English

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Human shogi played at Himeji Castle - News - NHK WORLD - English _es

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Junior high school students have participated in a life-size version of shogi, a traditional Japanese board game, at Himeji Castle in western Japan. Source: Human shogi played at Himeji Castle - News - NHK WORLD - English

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Yabusame

Every year a yabusame tournament is held on the beach in Zushi (a town next to Yokohama). This archer is about to shoot the first of his three arrows from the back of his galloping horse.

There aren't many events that take place today exactly as they did in the twelfth century, but yabusame (horseback archery) is one of them. It originated as a way of training samurai in preparation for warfare, but it has always had close connections with Japan's Shinto religion, and so is usually performed at Shinto shrines. Attending one of the yabusame events held around Japan each year is almost certainly the closest you're going to get to meeting a real live samurai, and so is an opportunity not to be missed.

Yabusame itself is very simple. An archer on horseback starts at one end of a roped-off track around 255 metres long, and gallops down it at high speed. Without stopping or slowing down, he fires three arrows in succession, each at one of three wooden targets placed about 70 metres apart on one side of the track. He then has to slow down quickly so he can stop before the end of the track - no mean feat given how fast the archers ride. The whole run is over in around 20 seconds, and the score is based simply on how many targets have been hit.

Don't let the simplicity of the sport (or ritual as most practitioners would prefer it to be called) lead you into thinking that it's easy. The archers need to use both hands for shooting, so they have to rely on their knees alone to control the horses. As they let loose the arrows they shout 'in-yo-in-yo' - meaning darkness and light (the two opposite cosmic forces, sometimes called yin and yang). Hitting even one target is hard, and hitting all three is a major achievement - the mark of a supreme expert.

A procession at the Tsurugaoka Shrine in Kamakura, prior to the yabusame tournament.

The arrows are topped with perforated bulbs of wood or deer horn so that they make a whistling noise when fired. This kind of arrow was originally used by samurai to alert the enemy before battle (unannounced attacks not being very honourable), but nowadays they have the advantage of making the sport less dangerous. (Shinto shrines don't tend to have a lot of space, so the spectators are usually quite close to the targets.) Only the most experienced archers are allowed to use arrows with points on.

In Japan, the bow has been a symbol of power since ancient times, and has been used on horseback since the fourth century. The ability to draw a bow and shoot accurately, even in the heat of battle, was seen as the ultimate mark of a true samurai, but it wasn't until 1187 that horseback archery was formalized into yabusame. The first shogun, Minamoto no Yoritomo, was concerned that his samurai's archery skills weren't good enough, so he decided to create an event that could serve as a form of practice.

The task of organizing the first Yabusame tournament fell to Ogasawara Nagakiyo of the Seiwa Genji clan, who was a tutor to Minamoto. The equestrian techniques and martial spirit of the House of Ogasawara has been passed down from father to son ever since. Patriarchs of the house served as tutors to powerful military generals right through until the nineteenth century.

The Ogasawara School is now headed by Ogasawara Kiyotada, the 31st patriarch, a direct descendant of Ogasawara Nagakiyo. It is one of two major schools that currently teach yabusame and organize displays, the other being the Takeda School. That school is even older - it was founded by Minamoto Yoshiari in the ninth century, at the command of the emperor Uda.

There was a period of around four hundred years, beginning in the fourteenth century, when yabusame was no longer practiced, but it was resurrected in 1728 on the orders of the then shogun, Yoshimune Tokugawa. At the time his son Ieshige was sick with smallpox,

These yabusame judges at Zushi are dressed in armour, and each is carrying a pair of samurai swords. so he decided to use yabusame as a petition to the gods to seek a cure. As the rules of yabusame had been written down in the twelve century, it was possible to resurrect it and perform it again exactly as in ancient times. Happily, the gods obliged, and Ieshige made a complete recovery, eventually going on to succeed his father as shogun.

As with kyudo (ordinary Japanese archery without horses), yabusame is a solemn activity, and is about a lot more than just equestrian prowess and skill with a bow. It was originally intended to increase both the mental strength and religious devotion of the samurai who took part, as well as honing their battle skills. To this day, a yabusame archer is expected to follow the principles of bushido (the way of the warrior), and so must respect God and his ancestors, and act with good manners at all times. The Ogasawara School even teaches its pupils the correct way of bowing and of opening and closing doors.

Archers compete not for money, but for honour - the best performing archer is given a white cloth to signify divine favour, but receives no monetary payment. Even being selected as a yabusame archer is seen as a great honour - yabusame teachers are not paid, so their principle gain in passing on their skills is to increase their reputation by producing skilled pupils.

Yabusame can be seen either as an offering to, or entertainment for, the gods (although we mortals are usually allowed to watch as well). Both the arrows that hit their targets, and the targets themselves, are kept and treasured as good luck charms. The Ogasawara also use yabusame as a form of weather forecasting. The count of the number of arrows that hit the targets is used to predict how good the harvest will be in the years to come.

Yabusame archers are still equipped exactly as they were in the twelfth century. They wear medieval hunting outfits, including a distinctive woven-reed hat, a cloak, an arm guard, and a deerskin fur covers their legs. They carry a quiver of arrows on their back (from which they must draw new arrows as they gallop past the targets), a bow, a lacquered riding crop, and a pair of samurai swords - one long and one short.

If you couldn't see the other spectators, there'd be nothing to indicate that you weren't in twelfth-century Japan - everything else is exactly as it was then. Well, except that samurai who performed poorly were sometimes required to commit seppuku (ritual suicide by disembowelling) - that doesn't go on any more. The best thing is that you can get really close up to the action - only a rope fence separates you from the galloping horses.

You can see here the narrow track at Tsurugaoka Shrine on which the the horses gallop, and just how close the spectators are to the action.

The most popular place to see yabusame is at the Tsurugaoka Hachimangu Shrine in Kamakura - exactly the same place as yabusame was first performed over eight hundred years ago. In those days Kamakura was the capital of Japan, but now it's a picturesque Tokyo commuter town, perfectly placed for a day-trip out of Tokyo. To get there take the Yokosuka line from Tokyo station, or the Shonan-Shinjuku line from Shinjuku station and get off at Kamakura. Either way the journey takes around an hour and costs 890 yen. The shrine is just a short walk down the road from Kamakura station.

Throughout Japan there are about twenty yabusame events each year. The number of archers competing varies from just a few up to about sixteen. For details of displays run under the auspices of the Takeda School (including the Kamakura events), check out the events section of their website, or for the Ogasawara School's events click here.

The Japanese government also sometimes puts on special yabusame events to entertain foreign dignitaries (displays were put on for both Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush), and occasionally yabusame demonstrations have been given in other countries. Wherever you see yabusame, the spectacle is sure to make a lasting impression.

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Yabusame - horseback archery samurai-style

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Every year a yabusame tournament is held on the beach in Zushi (a town next to Yokohama). This archer is about to shoot the first of his three arrows from the back of his galloping horse. There aren't many events that take place today exactly as they did in the twelfth century, but yabusame (horseback archery) is one of them.

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To mark the anniversary of Japan's 2011 triple disaster, the Guardian met six people whose courage and determination have inspired other people across the disaster-hit region. From the mayor of a radiation-hit city who refused to leave, to a traumatised fisherman who now looks after his elderly neighbours - ordinary people who, in a few terrifying minutes, saw their lives transformed by catastrophe.
***

On 11 March 2011 a powerful earthquake and tsunami struck the north-east coast of Japan and triggered a triple meltdown at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant.

Almost 19,000 people died in the tsunami, while 160,000 people fled radiation in Fukushima. Five years on, more than 174,000 survivors remain displaced, including almost 100,000 people from Fukushima who have yet to return to their homes.

But there are signs, too, that for some people life is returning to a semblance of normality.

The mayor: Katsunobu Sakura, Minamisoma

It comes as little surprise to hear that Katsunobu Sakurai rarely looks out of his office window these days.

Five years ago he watched from the same window as massive tsunami waves crashed through rows of pine trees before tearing up farmland and homes in Minamisoma.

Sakurai had been the city's mayor for just a few months when the disaster killed almost 500 of his constituents. The death toll, however, was just the beginning of Minamisoma's agony. When the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant, 25km (16 miles) south of the city centre, went into meltdown, all but 9,000 of Minamisoma's 71,000 residents voted with their feet, leaving behind a ghost town bereft of people and essential services.

While his city ground to a halt, Sakurai stayed put. Clearly exhausted, he took to YouTube on 24 March 2011 to issue a plea for help, subtitled in English, that reverberated around the world.

Five years later the city's population has recovered to around 57,000 and preparations are being made to allow residents to return to the abandoned neighbourhood closest to the nuclear plant.

Yet the community is far from normal. Many mothers and their children have stayed away, and the city's kindergartens are half empty - even though, as Sakurai points out, radiation levels in the city are now lower than those in Rome.

Last year Sakurai was re-elected in a landslide, while other local leaders were turfed out by voters who believe they have bungled their communities' recovery. "I stayed even after everyone else had left," said Sakurai, who credits his samurai ancestors with giving him the determination to carry on. "I think people appreciated that."

There is still much work to be done. Just over half of the city's 23,000 households have been decontaminated - a huge undertaking that is expected to cost as much as US$400 million. "It's a good job that Japan is rich enough to do all of this," he said, with obvious mischief.

His sense of humour disappeared when talk turned to the operator of the Fukushima plant, Tokyo Electric Power (TEPCO). "My attitude towards TEPCO hasn't changed," he said. "And the way TEPCO goes about things hasn't changed either. They simply won't take full responsibility for what they've done."

Despite the challenges, Sakurai, a veteran marathon runner, has witnessed the city's slow ascent from despair during his regular runs. "We still have a long way to go," he said. "But life today is heaven compared to the hell of March 2011."

The sake brewer: Yasuaki Konno, Ofunato

One of the most poignant images of the immediate aftermath of the Japan disaster was of a bent and rusting sign pointing to the shattered remains of the Suisen Shuzo sake brewery in Rikuzentakata.

But for Suisen, regarded as one of Japan's best sake brewers, the tragedy of the tsunami had only just begun, as it became clear that nine of the brewery's 57 employees had died.

"When my father told the surviving staff a few days later that we would brew sake again, we knew he wasn't just putting on a brave face," said Yasuaki Konno, the son of Suisen's president, Yasuhiko Konno.

True to Konno senior's word, within months the firm was producing sake at the premises of a rival brewer, Iwate Meijo - one of countless examples of companies coming to the aid of stricken competitors after the disaster.

Now, with the help of government aid and donations from customers determined to resurrect their local brewer, Suisen is again making premium-quality sake at its new premises on a hill overlooking the nearby port of Ofunato. In 2014 it entered the US market with its first overseas brand, Kibo, which means "hope".

"We're originally a Rikuzentakata company but the water there was no longer good enough to produce sake," said Yuki Murakami, a manager at Suisen, which formed 70 years ago after a merger between eight smaller breweries. The firm employs fewer staff, and production is at about 40% of pre-disaster levels.

For now, though, just the ability to turn rice into Japan's national drink is enough for Yasuaki Konno. "We were about to start shipping out that year's supply which we had made during the winter," he said of the events of five years ago. "When I went back the next day and saw what had happened to the brewery, I couldn't take it in."

Konno, who oversees the production of about 20 Suisen sake labels, said the brewery owed it to its customers to rebuild. "If we'd given up it would have been another piece of bad news for the town and our customers, many of whom had lost their homes.

He concedes that Suisen's sake may have undergone subtle changes in taste due to its new premises. "Sake is not just a product - it's an incredibly complex drink," he said. "We're still in the early stages of recovery, and it could be another 10 years before we're truly out of the woods.

"But nothing can ever be as bad as the situation we found ourselves in five years ago. If we can get through that, we can get through anything."

The community leader: Kazuo Sato, Rikuzentakata

Strange as it may sound, Kazuo Sato considers himself one of the lucky ones.

He lost his home in the tsunami that killed 1,700 people in his hometown of Rikuzentakata, but he, his wife, their three children, and his own parents survived. A former fishermen, he was left too traumatised to go back out to sea.

Today they all live in the same temporary housing complex in the grounds of a local junior high school that once served as an evacuation shelter.

Other couples with children have secured loans and moved on, leaving behind the Sato family and 100 or so residents whose average age is over 60; several are in their late 90s.

Sato's 78-year-old father, Kichiro, is mending fishing nets in preparation for his first trip back out to sea since the tsunami, in search of whitebait. Before the disaster, the father and son would have gone fishing together. But the younger Sato won't be joining his father this spring.

"I was a fisherman before the disaster," said Sato, 50. "I tried to continue after the tsunami, but I kept having flashbacks and it was affecting me psychologically. I watched the tsunami arrive from the hillside, so I could see people trying to escape and hear their screams for help. But there was nothing I could do."

Instead, Sato reinvented himself as a community leader, and now divides his time between chairing the residents' association and working as a voluntary firefighter. He also helps the Sakura Line project to plant cherry blossoms in areas considered safe from tsunami.

His office at the top of a hill overlooking the temporary housing has become the first point of contact for residents with complaints about everything from leaky roofs to lack of privacy. On occasion he plays the role of peacemaker.

"There is no privacy here, which adds to people's problems," said Sato, who blames the stress of life as a displaced survivor for the minor stroke he suffered last year, aged just 49. "We often have to defuse arguments caused by complaints about noisy neighbours, or after people have had too much to drink."

As the exodus of younger people continues, Sato's biggest concern is the welfare of elderly neighbours who live alone, amid a recent rise in the number of solitary deaths in the disaster-hit region.

"We ask people to keep their doors unlocked so we can get inside quickly if we think something is wrong," he said. Despite the cramped conditions inside poorly constructed prefab units, Sato says he is prepared to wait until he can raise enough money to build his family a new, permanent home.

"We live at the end of a row of units and our neighbours recently moved out, so we have more privacy. Compared with what many people have to put up with, we're lucky."

The doctor: Masaaki Shimanuki, Rikuzentakata

Masaaki Shimanuki's professional wishlist sounds much like that of any other doctor: new equipment, bigger premises, more staff.

But on the afternoon of 11 March 2011 the 73-year-old's troubles were of an altogether different magnitude.

Shimanuki, a doctor in the internal medicine department at Iwate Prefectural Takata hospital in the coastal town of Rikuzentakata, was in his consulting room when he felt the ground begin to shake.

The biggest earthquake in Japan's recorded history had just struck the north-east coast, generating a huge tsunami that would reach Rikuzentakata just over 30 minutes later.

"Our priority was to help get our patients out of danger," Shimanuki said during a break at the town's only major hospital - a prefabricated replacement that was built on higher ground after the disaster. "We moved them up to the fourth floor, but even that wasn't high enough."

As the water level continued to rise, the only place left to take refuge was the hospital roof. By nightfall 11 of the hospital's 51 patients - most of them elderly - had died, including four who succumbed to freezing temperatures on the roof. Nine staff also died.

Today, dozens of patients - all wearing obligatory flu masks - line the corridor outside Shimanuki's office just minutes after the hospital has opened.

On a typical day the hospital's five on-duty doctors and 30 nurses see 170 people, about a quarter of whom are still living in temporary housing.

Medical and administrative workers barely have time to draw breath; as soon as Shimanuki sees one patient, another joins the end of the queue. But in its organised chaos, Takata is at last beginning to resemble an ordinary hospital again.

"We never thought about giving up, even during those dreadful days after the tsunami," Shimanuki said. "We received so much help from outside that we had no choice but to carry on. But if there is one thing I could have right now, it would be more doctors and nurses."

The scallop farmer: Jun Sasaki, Koishihama

Five years ago Jun Sasaki could have been forgiven for banishing all thoughts of returning to the sea to make a living.

After steering his boat back to port moments before the tsunami careered into the tiny fishing village of Koishihama, the fisherman and his family watched helplessly as the waves destroyed his scallop beds.

In a matter of minutes he had lost 1,000 tonnes of scallops, worth an estimated 50m yen (£311,000/US$440,000).

"When I saw the tsunami withdraw back out to sea, I knew that it had taken all of my scallops with it," said the 45-year-old, who was born and raised in the area.

Like so many people who lost their businesses in March 2011, Sasaki had no choice but to embrace the philanthropic spirit that would help his and other fishing communities through their darkest hours.

Within days 400 volunteer divers were working in shifts to clear the seabed of debris so Koishihahama could quickly rebuild its aquaculture industry. The Kizuna Foundation, a non-profit business launched after the disaster, offered financial help.

"It was like getting a gentle push in the back, carrying us along," said Sasaki, who by 2014 was producing as many scallops as he had done before the disaster. Now, he says, the water in the bay is even cleaner than it was before 11 March.

The village, framed by pine-covered cliffs, is attempting to attract more tourists through its famed oysters, scallops and sea pineapples.

"Fishermen all over the region are getting old, so we need to find other ways to keep the local economy going," said Sasaki, who is head of the village's 12-member scallop fishermen's union. "We want this to be a place that attracts people who love great seafood."

Inspired by the post-disaster volunteer effort, he obtained a diver's licence so he could remove what little debris is left, and keep a closer eye on his livelihood.

"I love getting into the water now, even after what happened in 2011," he said. "I can see the scallops for myself ... and it goes without saying that they are the best in the world."

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After Fukushima: Faces from Japan's Tsunami Tragedy, Five Years On - Our World

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To mark the anniversary of Japan's 2011 triple disaster, the Guardian met six people whose courage and determination have inspired other people across the disaster-hit region. From the mayor of a radiation-hit city who refused to leave, to a traumatised fisherman who now looks after his elderly neighbours - ordinary people who, in a few terrifying minutes, saw their lives transformed by catastrophe.

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A fifth generation soy sauce brewer and master builder of the large wooden barrels (kioke) traditionally used in Japan to ferment foods, Yasuo Yamamoto is proving the flavor benefits of the kioke barrels by the deep, dark overwhelming savoriness of the classic style of soy sauce that he is making with them at Yamaroku Soy Sauce.

During the Edo period (1603-1868), the islands and coast of the Seto Inland Sea became food manufacturing centers for the rest of the country. Once a center of Japan's original Pacific island culture and a vibrant maritime world, the region had come to be valued mainly for its raw food materials and sea transportation lanes. First was the essential ingredient of sea salt, which was mass produced on large enden salt fields starting in the 17th century at places like the town of Takehara in Hiroshima prefecture, where wide differences in the tides enabled the cheap and efficient harvesting of salt from the sea. Next came a different kind of indispensable food-sake. Because of the revolutionary development of big wooden barrels, called kioke, sake could be brewed on a large scale for the first time (it had previously been made in small clay pots), and a cluster of breweries soon began making sake near the excellent spring waters and rice fields of the Nada district, which is on the Seto Inland Sea shores of Hyogo prefecture. Finished foodstuffs were loaded onto barges and shipped to the new capital at Edo-Tokyo and other major cities in the north, where the political and social power of the country now resided.

The third major food making industry to be established in the Seto Inland Sea region was soy sauce on Shodoshima Island. By the beginning of the 17th century, Japan's food makers had refined the recipe for soy sauce, adapting it to Japanese tastes so that it was more appetizingly aromatic and subtly flavored than the original Chinese version. It also had other benefits. As a diluted form of liquid salt, it was cheaper than dry granular salt and became an alternative to salt in preserving and pickling foods. In addition, its complete combination of flavors-salty, acidic, sweet, and especially its rich, mouth-satisfying umami-made it a handy all-purpose seasoning for cooking and finishing foods at the table. Soy sauce quickly became a popular seasoning among Japan's large, fast-growing, and urbanizing population. To meet demand, an industry of soy sauce breweries was established on Shodoshima Island, re-using the big wooden barrels that the sake brewers across the straits at Nada had discarded after thirty years of use. In addition to enabling the mass production of soy sauce, the kioke barrels turned out to be much more important to brewing soy sauce than sake. For one thing, soy sauce brewers could use them for one-hundred and more years versus only thirty years for sake. More importantly, the beneficial bacteria that lived in the barrel's wood grain were key to developing soy sauce's deep, rich savory flavor (its umami) over the long two-year fermentation period required to make high quality soy sauce. Good sake, on the other hand, is fermented for a much shorter thirty to forty-five days, making the type of vessel in which it is brewed less important.

Shodoshima was the leading producer of soy sauce for much of the Edo period. As the second largest island in the Seto Inland Sea, it was a major producer of sea salt and also had large reserves of fresh water (two of soy sauce's essential ingredients.) And the island was conveniently located in the sea's major transportation lanes, providing easy access to shipments of soy beans and wheat (soy sauce's other two main ingredients) grown in the region and enabling shipments of finished soy sauce onwards. At its peak, there were hundreds of soy sauce breweries using thousands of kioke barrels on Shodoshima. Over time, the island's breweries were superceded by soy sauce makers operating north of Edo-Tokyo. (Soy sauce has always been a more popular seasoning in cold, northern Japan partly because the region cannot easily produce natural sea salt.) But even today Shodoshima has the largest number of kioke barrels in the industry-1,000 out of the estimated 3,000 still in use to make soy sauce. Unfortunately, many of the local brewers have compromised the quality of their product by using denatured soybean meal imported from the U.S. and Canada, which has been stripped of its oil and much of its nutrients, and/or are shortening the fermentation time to less than the two years needed to make deeply savory soy sauce. There is one local brewer that stands out. Yasuo Yamamoto at Yamaroku Soy Sauce is making soy sauce the old-fashioned way with high quality, all-natural ingredients and a long fermentation period. What's more he is leading a nation-wide effort to renew the craft of making kioke barrels and assert their role as a key ingredient in making fine soy sauce. Yasuo is demonstrating the importance of kioke barrels by relying on them and the beneficial bacteria that live within them to make a uniquely flavored, classic style of soy sauce that has deep and delicious layers of umami richness.

Soy Sauce That Is Made in the Barrel

Yamaroku is located in a warren of narrow lanes lined with impressive stone walls made of the granite seen in the rugged mountains that rise up behind the brewery. There are other soy sauce makers in the quiet residential neighborhood, but the island's large commercial ones, including Marukin, the fifth largest producer in Japan, are based south, down in the busy town of Shodoshima, which is on the shore of Uchinomi Bay in a theme park area called Soy Sauce Village. Yamaroku is a smaller, much more traditional operation than these, and its sixty-six wooden barrels are housed in a shed next to the family house. The business was started about 150 years ago, and Yasuo is the fifth generation of the family to make soy sauce. He is a passionate artisan who does everything himself by hand. But he does not think he is working alone. There are three-hundred different kind of spores of beneficial bacteria living in the brewery-in the ancient kioke barrels, in the wooden decks corralling them, and in the walls, beams, and roof of the building-and he considers them to be the true agents brewing the soy sauce and giving it its deep, rich flavor. He believes his role is to nurture and care for them. His job is to supply them with the best soy beans, wheat, sea salt, and water and also the kioke barrels in which to live and work their fermentation magic, and intervene in the process of making soy sauce as little as possible.

Yasuo begins making new soy sauce each winter, from November to March, when the cool air is pure and the low temperatures allow the spores to start working slowly and gently. His philosophy that great soy sauce should be what nature intended, and not the handiwork of the brewer, is reflected in every step of his process. First he makes the koji starter, mixing steamed soy beans and roasted wheat with koji-kin mold ( Aspergillus oryzae), and leaving this mixture to bloom for two days, not touching it. Soy sauce brewers typically mature their koji for three to four days, raking and fluffing it all the while and manipulating it with other house-developed techniques. After two days, Yasuo mixes the koji with sea salt and water in the kioke barrels, creating the main fermentation mash called moromi, and, again, lets the spores go about their business for the next few months. Aware that they are living things, he goes to the brewery every day "to greet and talk to them." He says that they, in turn, "know that someone is there." Lactic acid fermentation takes place during this first phase of soy sauce brewing, and the shed is filled with the aroma of apples, bananas, and melons. In the spring when the weather warms up the yeasts come out, and Yasuo stirs the moromi from time to time to give the yeasts air and help them grow. By summer, the smell of chocolate fills the shed, and Yasuo paddles the moromi more regularly to support the vigorous fermentation of both lactic acids and yeasts.

When winter returns, the spores quiet down again. The moromi is left in the barrels to go through at least one more vigorous summer fermentation. During this time full saccharanization occurs, and the smell of liquor overwhelms all other smells. At the end of the second year, Yasuo knows the soy sauce is done by looking at it. He filters and presses the moromi using an old machine, squeezing out every last drop of soy sauce from the mash to gather all of its flavor and richness. Other artisanal brewers may lightly drip the soy sauce or press the mash to less than 100% to create a more refined product. Yasuo then pasteurizes the soy sauce at a relatively low 70-72 degrees in winter and 69-70 degrees in summer to stabilize it yet preserve as much of the flavors created by the spores as possible. As soon as the soy sauce reaches these temperatures, he cuts the heat. The soy sauce is ready to be bottled.

Each winter, in late January, after the new batches of soy sauce have been laid and the old ones have entered their somnolence, Yasuo makes kioke barrels, and the barrels he makes for himself and other soy sauce brewers is helping to save the tradition of making high quality soy sauce. The barrels in use in Japan today have an average age of seventy-five years and can be used for at most another fifty years. In addition, their numbers have been declining because most fermented food makers switched to using more efficient steel tanks during the last century. As a consequence, there are only two manufacturers of kioke barrels left in the country and their master barrel makers are getting old. In 2012, Yasuo apprenticed himself to one of these, Takeshi Ueshiba of Fujii Wood Work in Sakai, Osaka prefecture. The next year he began making barrels himself in back of his shed, and since then has been holding an annual winter event during which volunteers from across the country come to help and learn from him. His impact has been remarkable. In addition to renewing his stock of kioke barrels and ensuring the future of Yamaroku's soy sauce, he has raised the awareness of the importance of the kioke barrels as a key tool and ingredient in making high quality fermented foods because of the millions of beneficial bacteria they harbor. Other artisanal makers of soy sauce, sake, mirin, vinegar, and miso among other fermented foods have been inspired by him and are increasing their use of kioke barrelsin their processes. And by sharing his barrel-making know-how, he has spawned a growing number of barrel makers at other small fermented food businesses, fostering a virtuous cycle of renewal and expansion of making high quality fermented seasonings in Japan.

"Hishio"-the Ancient Name for Soy Sauce

Yamaroku makes a very limited product line reflecting Yasuo's belief that nature makes soy sauce not him and that there is only one type of soy sauce-the long fermentation of soy beans, wheat, salt, and water. There is a traditional koikuchi soy sauce and a double-fermented and extra long-aged saishikomi soy sauce. Although the flavor of Yasuo's soy sauce changes each year, sometimes in subtle ways, sometimes in more significant ones, he knows how to blend the batches to create consistent flavor.

Yasuo's koikuchi type soy sauce is called "Kiku-Bishio." ("Bishio" is a derivation of "hishio," which is the ancient name for soy sauce.) Aged for a traditional two to two and half years, it is made with some of the best heirloom soy beans in Japan, marudaizu kuro-mame (whole, big, round black soy beans) from the Tamba-Sasayama area west of Kyoto, which is famous for growing the best soy beans in the country. They are rich, creamy, buttery beans that transcend the "beany" taste of most soy beans, while also being especially high in nutrients. They are so flavorful and prized that they are served simply boiled as a featured food during New Year's celebrations. Yasuo gets them from Odagaki Shoten and Kane-zan, two shops that have been growing their beans for centuries and are known for they way they nurture their plants and hand pick their beans. The wheat used is locally grown in Kagawa prefecture, the sea salt is natural, and the wild, microbe-laden water comes untreated from a well on the property as was the practice for soy sauce makers in the old days.

"Kiku-Bishio" is an exceptionally well-made, classic style soy sauce with a rich blood-red color, agreeably sharp saltiness (the enbun, or salt ratio, is 14.5%), and deep layers of umami. It has a unique taste of place because of the flavors imparted by the spores in the air, water, kioke barrels, and bones of the building, but it is not the taste of the delicate, light, balanced cuisine of the region. Yasuo continues the Shodoshima tradition of brewing a soy sauce for the strong, rich tastes of northern Japan, where the island's soy sauce was shipped to in centuries past. "Kiku-Bishio" should be used for cooking, where its saltiness, deep umami, and unique taste can enhance and enrich food and add complexity and depth of flavor to dishes. In soy sauce's most traditional way, it can be used to pickle and preserve foods. It can also add aroma and flavor to foods like grilled fish and roasted vegetables. Lastly, one teaspoon of "Kiku-Bishio" is perfect for adding a kakushi-aji (a secret seasoning or hidden taste) to long-braised dishes.

The other soy sauce that Yasuo makes is a finishing soy sauce to add aroma, color, and flavor to foods at the table, or in the very last seconds of cooking. It is called "Tsuru-Bishio" and is a double-fermented, extra long-aged saishikomi type of soy sauce. To make it Yasuo takes two-year-old soy sauce and blends it with new moromi and then ages everything for another two years. Most makers of this type of soy sauce age it for only three years in total. The soy beans are the hybrid Enrei from Toyama prefecture in Japan's northern Hokuriku region. The wheat is the hybrid Haruyutaka and is also grown in the north, in Hokkaido. Both are hardy hybrids with lots of umami-producing protein and gluten. They have the strength to stand up to long fermentation, which works to bring out their best flavor.

"Tsuru-Bishio" is very dark, almost black, and is very rich, creamy, and slightly sweet and alcoholic. The enbun is a lower 13.8%. It is a delicious soy sauce, and its rich, sweet, fruity aroma makes you hungry while its deep umami flavor makes you want to eat it by itself. "Tsuru-Bishio" gives richness to delicate yet full flavored foods like tofu and steamed fish. It can also be used on sashimi and goes best with strong flavored ao-zakana fish, which are rich and fatty, blue-backed types of fish. It can also be drizzled on salads, cheese, roasted vegetables, and grilled meats and is a great topping for desserts- puddings, ice cream, and cheesecake-when its mild saltiness and acidity enhances such rich, sweet dishes. Yasuo makes a ki-age (unpasteurized) version of this soy sauce. The difference is the ki-age type has a wilder taste and gives a quick hit of umami, while the unpasteurized type has a softer, slower aroma and its flavor dissipates more gradually in the mouth.

Yasuo makes two versatile blended sauces. One is a classic, very well-made ponzu that blends Yamaroku soy sauce with a full range of some of the best seasonings in Japan, including yuzu and sudachi citrus from Kochi prefecture, brown cane sugar from Tanegashima Island, soft, fragrant, rich rausu-konbu seaweed from Hokkaido, and rich soda-katsuo (mackerel tuna) dashi from Kochi. (Most dashi in Japan is made from the lighter-tasting, more common bonito, or skipjack tuna.) Unlike standard ponzu, which simply is a light, refreshing salty-citrus condiment, Yamaroku's ponzu is a full-flavored sauce that combines all the seasoning elements of salt, acid, sugar, and umami. Like ponzu it can be used on tofu, salads, pickles, and as a dipping sauce for lightly-simmered vegetables and meats. Because of its full body, all-purpose flavorings, and deep umami, it can also be used as a kakushi-aji for soups, stews, curries, and other braised dishes like Japanese nitsuke, oden, and sukiyaki and similar types of braised Western dishes, as a dipping sauce for heavier foods like gyoza dumplings, and as a glaze for teriyaki and marinade for all types of barbecues.

The other blended sauce, called "Hishio Tomato Sauce," is a similarly rich and deeply flavored sauce that uses a principal Western culinary source of umami-tomatoes-as its base. The tomatoes are a special kind called "Hishio Tomatoes" that are locally-grown by a farmer who uses Yamaroku's shoyu-kasu (the lees leftover from making soy sauce) as fertilizer for the plants, which heightens the tomatoes' rich, sweet flavor. Yasuo presses the tomatoes at his brewery and then combines them with Yamaroku's intensely rich and slightly sweet "Tsuru-bishio" soy sauce and adds sugar, apple vinegar, spices, and garlic to create a fully-flavored, thick sauce that is sweet, spicy, and hot, in addition to packing a strong umami punch. The sauce can be used as a condiment like ketchup on omelets and hamburgers, as a kakushi-aji in Bloody Mary's, cocktail sauce, gazpacho, salsa, sweet-sour stir fries, and pasta dishes, and as a marinade and glaze for all kinds of Asian and Western barbecues. It is especially good on chicken and pork. This is a limited edition product that is only available in the fall after the tomatoes are freshly harvested.

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A fifth generation soy sauce brewer and master builder of the large wooden barrels (kioke ) traditionally used in Japan to ferment foods, Yasuo Yamamoto is proving the flavor benefits of the kioke barrels by the deep, dark, overwhelming savoriness of the classic style of soy sauce that he is maki

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Best Sushi in Japan - Tsukiji Fish Market to $300 HIGH-END SUSHI in Tokyo! | Japanese Food

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►Check out The Hungry Tourist: https://www.instagram.com/the.hungry.tourist/ ►SUBSCRIBE for 2 new videos per week: http://bit.ly/MarkWiensSubscribe For this Japanese food and sushi tour, I was on the Best of Tokyo Food Tour with David from The Hungry Tourist. His tours are one of a kind and focus on deep high end food!

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Kemari (Japanese: 蹴鞠) is a form of football that was popular in Japan during the Heian Period. Kemari has been revived in modern times. This game was played in Sniramine-jingu, Kyoto

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Popular Chinese-style Japanese soup noodles commonly called Japan's national cuisine. Created in China but uniquely evolved through culinary innovations in Japan.

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The most famous Japanese "Karakuri" automata that have made 200 years ago.

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The "Karakuri" automata is the traditional handcraft of Edo period(1603-1868). Their movements are caused by the power of springs. Japan boasts to the world the ultimate reproduction of "Karakuri" automata. The "Karakuri" automata that bend arrow has been achieved by Hisasige Tanaka, the first president of Toshiba.

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Japanese designer creates amazing paper puppets

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Mouk discovers Japan - 30 minutes compilation HD | Cartoon for kids

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yokoso

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Awa Odori (Awa Dance Festival) Tokushima City (2013 ) 阿波おどり徳島市

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The Awa Dance Festival (阿波踊り Awa Odori) is held from 12 to 15 August as part of the Obon festival in Tokushima Prefecture on Shikoku in Japan. Awa Odori is the largest dance festival in Japan, attracting over 1.3 million tourists every year.

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Sumo - Virtual Culture - Kids Web Japan - Web Japan

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In sumo, two people who are wearing nothing but a loincloth face each other and push, grapple, and try to throw each other. The one who forces his opponent to the ground or pushes him out of the ring is the winner. Here you can find out more!

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People first came to Japan about 30,000 years ago. At the time, the main islands were connected to Siberia and Korea by bridges of dry land, so people crossed on foot. The first society, called the Jomon culture, arose about 12,000 years ago. Around the same time, the Ainu people arrived by boat from Siberia.

The Jomon and Ainu survived for thousands of years, hunting, fishing, and gathering plants. In 300 B.C., the Yayoi people came to Honshu Island from Korea and China. They were skilled weavers, tool makers, and farmers who began cultivating rice in flooded paddy fields.

In 660 B.C., Japan's first emperor, Jimmu Tenno, came to power. Emperors controlled Japan until the 12th century A.D., when military rulers, called shoguns, took control and ruled by might.

Europeans first arrived in Japan in 1543, bringing guns and Christianity. In 1635, the ruling shogun closed Japan to foreigners and forbade Japanese to travel abroad. This isolation lasted more than 200 years. In 1868, the shoguns were overthrown and emperors returned. This was a time of great change and modernization for Japan.

During World War I (1914-1917), Japan fought on the side of the U.S. But on December 7, 1941, Japan bombed the United States navy fleet at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii and the U.S. entered World War II. From 1941-1945, Japan's military leaders fought against the U.S. and the allied forces. In August 1945, the U.S. dropped atomic bombs on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, killing about 115,000 people. Japan surrendered a few days later.

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Japan is an archipelago, or string of islands, on the eastern edge of Asia.

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There are a million things to do in Kyoto, but these were my personal favorites from my time in the most historical city in Japan. Here are my 10 best things to do in Kyoto: ** The most important advice I can give is to wake up as early as possible, I mean super early.