More than miserable, an indescribable situation is described. When we were very young, the old people told us about the horrendous circumstance of the kegazu. (In Tsugaru, kegazu means crop failure. It may be dialect for starvation.) Although young, I became despondent and was close to tears. Returning to my home province after a long time and being plainly shown this sort of record, my feelings passed through sorrow and turned to an impossible-to-understand rage.
"This is awful," I said, "The scientific world makes all kinds of extravagant claims but can't teach farmers how to prevent these crop failures. That's irresponsible."
"No, experts are engaged in a myriad of research. Varieties of rice resistant to damage by cold weather are being improved. Various tactics are also devised for the planting period. Although the total crop failures of the past are gone, once every four or five years, the indefensible happens."
"It's ridiculous," I said not angry at anyone in particular and cursed.
N smiled and said, "People also live in the desert. The only choice is to get angry. Peculiar human feelings are born from this kind of climate, too."
"These are not excessively nice human feelings. There are no places with balmy spring weather, and I'm always losing ground to artists in the southern provinces."
"But you aren't losing, are you? From long ago, the Tsugaru region was never attacked and destroyed by people from other provinces. Although beaten, they were not defeated. Isn't the Eighth Division a national treasure?"
The blood of our ancestors haunted by crop failures from birth and raised by sipping rain and dew is transmitted to us. The virtue of balmy spring weather is enviable, without a doubt, but I can do nothing other than work as hard as possible to make splendid flowers bloom in the sorrowful blood of the ancestors. Without lamenting past sorrows in vain, it may be better to take enormous pride in the tradition of struggling through hardship like N does. Moreover, Tsugaru no longer endlessly repeats the disastrous picture of hell.
The following day, N told me how to travel north by bus along the Sotogahama Road. I stayed a night in Minmaya and then walked a lonely road along the coastline to Cape Tappi at the northern tip of Honshu. Even in the desolate and forlorn hamlets between Minmaya and Tappi, the homes are reinforced against gales and unflinching against the angry waves. The excellent health of the people of Tsugaru is lovingly displayed. A serene life unfolded before my eyes in the bright atmosphere of the elegant seaports reaching Minmaya and each hamlet south of it, particularly Minmaya and Imabetsu. Oh, there's no point in fearing the shadow of kegazu.
Below is an enjoyable composition written by Professor Sato Hiroshi. I'll borrow his writings as a merry farewell toast from the people of Tsugaru to erase the melancholy of the reader of my writings. In an outline of industry in Oshu, Professor Sato writes:
Oshu is the territory of the Emishi people who hide in the grass when attacked and enter the mountains when followed. In Oshu, natural barriers are formed by mountains rising above other mountains and hinder passage. Oshu is enclosed by the Sea of Japan with its rough waves and unsuitable for shipping by sea and the Pacific Ocean with many serrated capes and bays cut off by the northern mountain range and unreachable. Snowstorms often assault Oshu in the winter, the coldest part of Honshu. During ancient times, Oshu suffered dozens of crop failures. In contrast to forty percent of Kyushu being arable land, Oshu has a pitiful fifteen percent. From any perspective, Oshu is controlled by unfortunate natural conditions but today supports a population of 6.3 million and could form the base for any industry.
Reading any geography book will tell you the clothes, food, and dwellings are simple when living in the far away lands of Oshu and the northeastern part of Honshu. They are satisfied living under thatched roofing, shingled roofing, cedar bark roofing from the old days, and tin roofs today, wear wrapping cloths on their heads, monpe work pants, and eat average or worse than average, plain foods. What is authentic? Is the land of Oshu blessed with industry? Will twentieth-century culture that takes pride in speed not reach only the Tohoku region? No, that is already the Oshu of the past. If people wish to talk about present-day Oshu, the repressed emerging power appeared in Italy right before the Renaissance must be recognized in this land of Oshu. The emperor's spirit related to the education of the Meiji Emperor about culture and industry swiftly permeated the entire country of Oshu. This encouraged the decline of the unpleasant nasal sounds peculiar to the people of Oshu and the advance of standard language. The glory of enlightenment was given to the uneducated households that had fallen into a primitive state. From today's perspective, development and cultivation are increasing well-fertilized fields bearing products every moment. With added improvements, cattle farming, forestry, and fisheries will grow prosperous day by day. And given the sparse distribution of inhabitants, this land has plenty of room for future development.
During the era of expansion, the Yamato people, the ethnic Japanese, moved north from each region and reached Oshu like large flocks of migratory birds of starlings, ducks, chickadees, and geese roaming this region in search of food, and conquered the Ezo, the non-Yamato people. They hunted in the mountains, fished in the rivers, were attracted by various natural resources, and wandered all over. Thus, after several generations passed, the people living here are a part of the land in their own way. They grew rice on the plains of Akita, Shonai, and Tsugaru, planted trees in the mountains of Kitaoku, grazed horses on the plains, and were dedicated to the fisheries near the sea. These provided the foundations
