A Pancake That Never WasÂ
This week, the NPO had scheduled a workshop for children, teaching them how to turn harvested wheat into flour and then use it in a simple recipe. This required a lot of setup, and I learned a great deal along the way. Traditional processes are used at each step, all relying on hand-powered contraptions.
First, the wheat seeds are separated from their stalks using a threshing machine, before being passed into a tomi, a device that separates the light shells from the seeds themselves, imported from China during the Edo period. Then we use an usu, a traditional Japanese stone mortar, which grinds the seeds into flour. While the whole process was incredibly slow, everything being hand-powered, it carried a deep sense of satisfaction too. More importantly, I came to understand the process down to its individual physical stages, which I found fascinating.
We were then to use the flour to make a simple pancake with water and salt. Unfortunately, late the night before the event, it was cancelled: a double typhoon warning meant it was wiser to play it safe and stay at home. Having also experienced my first earthquake this week, I get the feeling that Japan really does want to show me everything it has to offer.
Temples in the Rain
A two-hour train ride south led me to Kamakura on my day off: a picturesque town set on Sagami Bay, looking out into the Pacific. Famous for its dense network of temples and shrines, the town is usually packed with tourists; fortunately, the day I chose was a complete washout, so the crowds were very moderate.
My day started on the north side of town, away from the coast and up in the hills. Engaku-ji is a nearly thousand-year-old Buddhist temple, and one of the most important in Japan. It is home to sixteen buildings, rebuilt at various times over the centuries after repeated fires. The patter of rain on my umbrella was soothing as I weaved my way between the waterfalls spilling from the slanted roofs.
Next I made my way downhill towards the main town, stopping off at every few temples and shrines to pay my dues. The main pedestrian street running through the town is Komachi-dori, stretching from the torii gate at the east exit of Kamakura station to the Tsurugaoka Hachimangu shrine. It is a vibrant place, filled with every kind of food option, from classy restaurants to street vendors. It was the perfect spot to try the local speciality: raw whitebait.
A short ride along the picturesque Enoshima Electric Railway brought me to the Great Buddha at Kotoku-in, a giant 43-foot bronze statue that has stood in the open air since 1498, when a tsunami destroyed the wooden temple that once housed it. Its stature was truly impressive, almost as impressive as how they managed to hide it from view until you'd paid your entrance fee (no, I'm not still salty). I finished the day climbing the side of a nearby mountain which offered a panoramic view of the crescent-shaped beach beside the Pacific, surrounded by blue and purple hydrangeas in full bloom at this time of year.
The Last Ninja
Early in the week I was introduced to the last remaining ninja in Hinohara village, Hiroshi Jikawa. Going by his ninja name, Shinojo Hirotake, he runs his own school of ninjutsu, Yajin-ryu Ninjutsu, and serves as an instructor for the legendary Fuma Clan -- and now, for me.
I could never pass up such an invitation. After a long day's work on the farm, I made my way to the venue. The physical element of the class focused on kumibojutsu, which translates literally as "partner staff sparring". I worked through various drills using one large staff or two smaller ones, while the sensei demonstrated with a katana; his grace was mesmerising. There was a strong focus on breathing throughout: I was to keep my breathing calm, what he called "water" breathing, most of the time, while a sudden swing demanded a heavy, quick "fire" breath.
There was a separate underlying theme too: training peace. The session had a mental focus, placing emphasis on meditation and spiritual growth. The exercises we did helped clear my mind of all the planning and stress of the project so far, which was a welcome cleansing.