Arrival in Tokyo
I finally emerged from Shimbashi station in Tokyo after an embarrassingly long amount of time spent locating the exit. I blame the jet-lag and the language barrier. No longer being in an air conditioned area, the humid air hit me immediately, carrying a pleasant summary of the nearby food options. After a near sleepless 24 hours of travel, only hopes and dreams kept me on my feet as I stumbled towards the nearest bowl of ramen; this happened to be Ichiran Ramen, a Japanese chain famous for its 'solo dining' style, which was perfect given my fatigue. With some energy regained and my personal food standards raised, I had the rest of the day to explore the Ginza district of Tokyo, where I was staying the night before setting off for Hinohara village. Ginza is regarded as Tokyo's most glamorous district, home to many skyscrapers and luxury shopping and dining experiences. Though my wallet was feeling lazy, the elegance and modernity of the district was very charming to wander through, especially once the neon lights came to life after the sun had set. It would prove strikingly different from the village where I would soon be working, only fifty kilometres away.
Hinohara Village
The following morning I jumped aboard the Ome line, which was bound for my accommodation for the first two weeks of my trip: a homestay with a 70 year-old couple. Though I was staying slightly outside of Hinohara, the difference to central Tokyo was already noticeable; skyscrapers had been replaced by rice paddies, and tourists were no more. The next morning I met Kawakami-san, the head of Satoyama School Tokyo and my mentor for the next six weeks, at Itsukaichi train station, from where she drove me to Hinohara.
Satoyama literally translates as “mountain village” and refers to the geographical zone between mountains and arable land, though Satoyama is also used to refer to a way of life that was, and still is in cases such as Hinohara, practiced in mountain villages. Satoyama School's mission is to practice, preserve, and promote this harmonious way of life.
Hinohara is the only area of greater Tokyo that is classed as a village. It is surprisingly rural, given its proximity to the city. Though the village has a small population of approximately 2000 people, I was surprised to discover the large scale of the region that it covered. This is because the houses are very spread out as families were traditionally self-sufficient, so needed enough surrounding farmland to sustain their lifestyle. In fact, the village is split into various districts, each with their own unique dialects that developed in the rather isolated time before the arrival of modern transport. Most people in Japan no longer speak with a dialect, Hinohara being one of the few exceptions.
Lessons in the Fields
The rest of the week was spent engaging with the regular activities of Satoyama School. Traditional farming is one such activity that the organisation does to keep the techniques alive, while rejuvenating farmland that was left to ruin by families moving away. Farming in Hinohara is different to many places in Japan because of the challenges imposed by the sloped hillsides. Crops such as rice which require large amounts of water cannot be sustained, so instead local specialties include potatoes, konjac and wheat. This week, the aim was to sow barley.
Equipped with "Jinkatabi", a traditional Japanese split-toe shoe used to navigate uneven terrain, I was taught the sowing process alongside other volunteers from the University of Tokyo. This first involved clearing the weeds off of the field using a Kama (scythe with a serrated blade), before ploughing, levelling, fertilizing and finally sowing the barley seeds. Though I was fully covered, I could still feel the noon sun beating down on me, made manageable by regular cooling breaks. Being able to begin to learn these skills that were essential for every local family in the past has allowed me to begin to appreciate the hard-working lives that they lived, and has made me truly excited for the project ahead.