As if things weren't interesting enough already, I've just had the experience of a lifetime. My first farming experience was on top of a mountain on an island in Japan. I met Hiroshi and his sons, Toshio age 11, and Kenta, age 5 in a small village. I was told that their farm/house was an hour's walk up a hill, but the reality of carrying my 2 packs one and one-half kilometers straight up 300+ meters in elevation gain in very hot humid conditions was another matter. And I'm talking straight up - no switchbacks, just straight up through the forest. I was pretty beat by the time I got to the top, but I couldn't complain, especially since Hiroshi was carrying a full Propane tank weighing more than 23 kilos! They supply almost all their fruits, vegetables, honey and eggs, but everything else has to be brought up the mountain. Did I mention how steep it is? When I caught my breath, I met Hiroshi's wife Masako, and their daughter Amiko, age 8. Masako is the only one who speaks some English. She began by handing me a list of expectations they have for their guest workers - work 3 hours in the morning and 3 hours each afternoon, take a bath every second day and go immediately to the bath when they say it is ready, cook dinner for the family every other day, do the dishes after most meals, etc.
The setting is primitive, to say the least. I would say that they are living off the grid, but they're not. The city in which they are technically located has brought power and later broadband internet service to all its residents regardless of where they live. So with the power also came telephone service. In this remote setting, they watch tv via satellite, check e-mail and stay connected to the rest of the world. The biggest shock I had all week though was on the last day. I was washing the breakfast dishes later than usual, when a man appeared walking towards the house. We said ohayo gozaimas (good morning), he appeared to touch the house and turned and walked away. I asked Masako who that was, and she said that it was the mailman!!! I was floored. For the last 11 years, whenever they have mail, it is delivered to their house. Did I mention that it is an hour walk straight up a very steep mountain? I had seen a crude wooden box with a slot in it nailed near the front door looking like a mailbox, but I thought it was a joke. Masako said Hiroshi made it for the mailman. Welcome to Japan!
Hiroshi and Masako are very hard working folks living a life they believe in, living simply off the land, organically, making as little an impact as they can. They raise their children with a lot of freedom to play, create, imagine, learn, and fight in the beautiful setting that is their home. The oldest boy, Toshio, is very helpful and resourceful. The two younger ones are beginning to help more, but not to the extent that I would have expected. I understand that Japanese children are not really expected to help around the house. Speaking of expectations, I was careful not to have expectations based on any past experience of mine, and I also was sure not to impose my values onto their lifestyle. Their level of hygiene took a bit of getting used to. Their water supply is from a ever flowing spring on the mountain. So that sediment doesn't build up in the hose line, they keep the water flowing constantly in all faucets. Nice cool delicious water in the summer - very cold water as the temperature drops. The only hot water is leftover water from cooking when they have it. And they don't use soap, so all the dishes are washed in cold water. Period. The food is served family style with everyone reaching into every dish with his or her chopsticks or hands. OK, after asking if washing hands before eating was their custom, (it was, but I hadn't seen it in action), I did attempt to enforce that value of mine. But washing hands to the kids meant getting them wet for 2 seconds and then wiping them on their clothes that they had been playing in all day. Living in the country, it's hard to keep things clean, especially when you're coming in and out all day. Of course, according to Japanese custom, boots are left in the genkan, the entry way, but still lots of dirt gets tracked into the house, including an occasional chicken.
The bathing that is mandatory every other day whether you need it or not, takes place in a bath house a ways away from the main house. Again according to Japanese custom, you thoroughly wash outside of the tub with hot water scooped from the tub before getting in to soak, all the while trying to avoid splashing water into your boots. The tub is a large iron kettle heated with wood from below. Just imagine the cartoons of cannibals coming to get the wayward explorer cooking in the vat. That's how I felt, scrunched up, knees to chest, in this kettle. Now I'm not a big person by American standards, but I barely fit into this tub. Also to get in, you have to first float a wooden disk on top of the water and then put your feet on the disk and lower it so you are squatting on the disk and not on the bare iron which is plenty hot! Not as easy as it sounds with the disk popping up. Quite an experience!!!
The family lives basically all in one room plus a small kitchen. The main tatami room serves as living room, dining room, play room, work room and bedroom for the whole family. They gave me the upstairs of the house, one large tatami room. All over the house there are large containers with preserves of all kinds made from the farm products that they sell through a co-op and that they will eat over the winter.
What were my jobs? One of my two main jobs that I did over the course of the week was to clear a year's worth of vines, weeds, bamboo, etc, that had overgrown the paths to the point that I couldn't even tell that there was a path there. The chickens, especially one who stuck very close, followed me around to scratch in the newly uncovered earth. It's a good thing I'm a vegetarian, because she came awfully close to my Japanese machete (shaped like an upside down L with a curved blade). When I hacked away at the vines in one area, I uncovered an ancient stone wall built over 300 years ago. One day, I asked if anyone had lived here before Hiroshi came here 20 years ago. Masako told me that there is evidence that people have lived on this mountain for 1000 years!
My other main job was to pick persimmons as they became ripe. Each day, usually with the help of the kids, I would fill 2 large baskets with ripe persimmons, then take off the green tops and any worm poop from inside, and then toss them into an eight liter jug. When it was full, I plunged my arm into the jug and squished persimmons until they were all mashed up. Why? To make persimmon vinegar, of course.
Another job I had one day was to take Kenta to pre-school. Yes, that meant walking down the steep hill and then on into the town down another one and a half kilometers along a small country road. And then walk back up again, this time bringing up about 15 pounds of rice in my backpack. I would have taken him in again on Friday, but there had been a big rain storm during the night and Masako felt it was too dangerous. The older kids went to school, so I'm not sure for whom it was too dangerous, Kenta or me.
The nights I cooked dinner (yes, me cooking dinner), I had to figure out what to serve with the ingredients on hand and with my limited knowledge of cooking since I've been eating mainly raw foods for almost 2 years now. So I came up with the old standby of pasta. The first night I made a delicious pesto with a scallion-like green called nilah. (That's as close as I'll get to Yom Kippur this year I'm afraid.) It was delicious and everyone gobbled it up. The other night I made dinner, I went to the garden and took about every ripe vegetable I could find and made a delicious pasta primavera. A pound and a half of pasta devoured on the spot. We had delicious salads each night too. I even introduced my green smoothie that I usually have for breakfast at home to this family and to each of the other places I've stayed. They all love them. When I'm with the family or other families, I have been eating what's offered to me. No meat, of course, but rice, noodles, and other cooked food as presented. I've tried lots of new dishes and ingredients that I've never seen or tasted before, enjoying most all the new flavors. I feel good, healthy, active - all good. When I'm on my own, as I am today, I'm eating mostly raw fruits and veggies. I find that the rice makes me feel heavy, so I don't eat it very often, as long as there are other things to eat.
On Friday evening, I ushered in Shabbat with the traditional blessings and a little teaching about Shabbat. Masako made 2 loaves of challah for the occasion. They seemed to like learning about a new culture, and I could actually feel a shift in the atmosphere after we lit the candles.
All in all, staying with this family on the mountain top in Japan was a great experience. It took me a while to adjust and get into the swing of things, but I came to love the family, the work, the lifestyle. A totally worthwhile opportunity that I'm glad I took. And I must say that now that I'm down in the city again, I'm very happy to be back to the land of hot showers, flush toilets, soft beds, and cleanliness.
Now Rosh Hashanah has officially started here in Japan, and I'm sitting in my "business" hotel wanting to finish up this entry to my blog before launching into whatever it is I'll be doing to celebrate the Jewish New Year. I've learned that there are only about 1000 Jewish citizens in Japan. Probably more expats scattered around. There are 3 synagogues, 2 in Tokyo and 1 in Kobe. Two of them are Chabad. Being totally separated from any Jewish community for the High Holy Days feels strange. In my hotel room desk drawer, I found, not Gideon's Bible, but The Teaching of Buddha in English and Japanese. Maybe I'll delve into that for Rosh Hashanah. Anyway, thanks for reading this entry to my blog. I hope you found it interesting.
Blessings to all for a healthy, happy, adventure-filled New Year.
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