This morning Masan reinvented himself as a classic, suave, suited Japanese business man. What's going on? During the drive to Magome, where I'm spending the night for a bit of tourism (a big detour for Masan but typical of his generous spirit), I got some more of his story.
Twenty years ago he was a "fighting business man", consulting on ISO standards in no less than 3 different corporate areas (unheard of, apparently), including the environment and safety. He was the golden boy in his company, comfortably established in the "Hollywood" suburb of Tokyo, and heading for even greater things; living a lifestyle of fast cars and extravagant overseas holidays. Then the 1995 earthquake in Kobe jolted his thinking: he was moved by the way people worked together, from their hearts, and decided to make change in his life.
To the amazement of his friends he upped sticks: quit his job and went to live in his holiday home in the mountains outside Tokyo. His first wife stayed in Tokyo, not sharing his desire for a different life. He then worked as an apprentice in an institution for handicapped children, and qualified as a chef. But left after 2 years because of being ill at ease around the total lack of autonomy given to the children.
After a stint selling natural cosmetics he was invited to work with a restaurant-running "miracle worker" who lived in the mountains. He learned many of his cooking skills during the year worked there, gathering herbs and plants in the mountains and then preparing dishes in the restaurant. Somewhere along the way he separated from his first wife and met Rie, who he described as being "pure love". And it's true, she radiates something difficult to put into words.
After a stint selling natural cosmetics he was invited to work with a restaurant-running "miracle worker" who lived in the mountains. He learned many of his cooking skills during the year worked there, gathering herbs and plants in the mountains and then preparing dishes in the restaurant. Somewhere along the way he separated from his first wife and met Rie, who he described as being "pure love". And it's true, she radiates something difficult to put into words.
And the suit? He had a meeting with a government official about changing his tax status. Their "snack business" looks like a random hand-to-mouth, under-the-table operation. Not at all. They have had to jump through hoops that make France look entrepreneur-friendly. Right now Masan is exploring how to organise things so that Machiko and Dai-chan's salaries (I hadn't realised they were paid) are funded via the government. A good wheeze, if he can get it to work. And rather needed as their portfolio - cookery classes, other courses, guest house, energy work, food sales - is only enough for a very modest lifestyle.
Via a risky conversation about cleanliness (which I now regret) Masan told me about an amazing second bath they have, used by the family. (So we haven't all nine of us been using the same water!) One of the vegetables they grow is called makomo. The roots are eaten, the leaves dried to stuff pillows and make tea. Somewhere along the way a yeast is extracted (?) and this is used to purify the water, colouring it brown. The water is then not changed. Ever. Masan has only been running his bath since spring this year, but knows someone who hasn't changed the water in 20 years. I hope this is blowing your mind as it did mine. If I play my cards right I might get the opportunity to try it out.
Meanwhile I experienced the communal tub, hotel-style, this evening. By chance I went in as soon as it was open and enjoyed water the temperature "ours" normally is having cooled down overnight! But, like Masan's, it is heated while you are in it. So, after around 20 minutes, I was getting the lobster experience once again and had to get out. Just as well. If I'd stayed any longer I'd have been sharing with an Aussie tourist on her way in. I'm not sure either of us could have coped with that!
Magome is a cute tourist trap nestled in the mountains just north-east of Nakatsugawa. Its claim to fame, along with Tsumago, to which I'm walking tomorrow, is as a "post town" where travellers left their horses when the going got too steep. It's part of a 530km path created by the Edo period (17th century) Tokugawa shogunate to link Tokyo and Kyoto. I'm looking forward to a bit of walking tomorrow. It's a steep 7km and 27 degrees forecast, so I'll take my time.
That's it, for now. This seems to be turning into a daily diary. At some point I'm gonna wind down into more leisurely posts - surely...?
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