Then You Grab a Fish With Your Hands

I don't know what made me think of this.  I was just looking through fall months of the past and stumbled upon these photos.  The Salmon Festival.  Many people stationed in Misawa probably went every year, and I believe there were several towns that had a Salmon Festival.  But we only went once.  It was an experience, and maybe we intended to go again, but I'm not heartbroken that we didn't.  

 Once upon an October weekend we drove to this popular festival.  We had one ticket for a salmon.  I knew you just picked one out of a pool.  But the logistics of how this would happened escaped me until the event was nearly over.  There were large pools made from tarps.  

People gathered around in various types gear.  My husband sported his waders.  Everyone was kinda excited and amped up around the pools.  I waited from afar.  Nervous.  

 Then a whistle blew. Children, elderly, brave souls of all ages jumped in.  Some barefooted.  Some booted.  To say it was a mad dash would be correct.  To say it was a cluster would also be true. 

 Then I got it.  You jump in. You grab a fish. Bam!  

I'm no activist but... those poor salmon.  It brings to mind the expression... fish in a barrel.  But these were in a tarp pool.... and still as ill fated. 

So Dave grabbed a slippery live fish with is hands.     

When in Rome and all that.

Man had conquered fish. 

 So we had dinner.

Then I watched mouth gaping as our pregnant salmon was killed. And was speechless as the crowd of Japanese oohed and aahhed over the row.   

Over the shock and amazement of this ritual I reminded myself this time in my life was an experience.  

Then we grilled the fish and ate dinner.  The End

P.S.  I have one other experience that is equally as shocking and possibly offensive... I'll share that one next week to get it over with.  But just a little tease.... 1. an entire cow 2. a spit