Mt Ontake continues to erupt, and the laundry mystery solved

As Machiko and I cut the sorghum crop, humming arias from the Marriage of Figaro, a helicopter whirred overhead, signalling the ongoing body-recovery operation from Mt Ontake. Despite its proximity, and the fact that Masan and Rie have a friend working in one of the refuges affected, the event seems not to be discussed. This could, of course, be my linguistic isolation. So I checked out my perception, asking Masan whether it's a live topic. The answer was that yes, but in a very Japanese way: not spoken about much, but felt deeply inside. There's also a total absence of the knee-jerk finger pointing that characterises Western reporting; a blend of philosophical acceptance and respect for authority? Masan acknowledges this is the Japanese way. For Masan and Rie day-to-day life carries on. And that attitude - focusing on the immediate, and what's close to home - perhaps explains the absence of Tokyo from the photos of the climate-change demonstrations a couple of weeks ago. It's taken to quite an extreme chez the Morimotos. One friend asked me, "If everything requires such precision and mindfulness, how do they get stuff done?" To which I replied that most of their life centres on the basics of growing, cooking, cleaning, washing, heating, maintaining. And these tasks aren't chores to be completed as fast as possible; they are the stuff of life, i.e. the end as much as the means. So, as already described, doing jobs as quickly as possible isn't the point. And, hard for me, it's also not about completing a job, it's also about resting. And, perhaps in order to give us all variety of work, numerous times I've been denied the satisfaction of "job done" that, I realise, is important to me. On the subject of Japanese mores, Masan has just served me a cup of top quality Earl Grey tea, joking about how it is the Japanese way to say it is of very poor quality; and adding that, when introducing his beloved wife, he would present her in the same way, as an item of low value. This I could not take: you, Masan, free-thinking citizen of the world, how could you?! He just laughs. This diminishing of self, combined with flattery of the other person, accentuates the social differential. "But I'm staff!", I protested. Yes, but an equal, he said. It's all upside down, I understand nothing. One thing that's been bugging me: how eight of us can generate up to 100 or more items of laundry a day. I've FB'd a couple of images of part of today's load. It's insane! But, having interrogated everyone, I think it's because (1) everyone changes their entire set of clothes every day, including a full wash of dirty outdoor clothes that will get re-trashed each and every day, (2) some, like Dai chan, may change their outdoors clothes twice if they get very hot working outside, (3) up to 15 towels per day are used in the kitchen, (4) traditional Japanese underwear is large (cloth measuring 20cm x 50cm plus ties), (5) the children put their pyjamas in the wash every morning in preference to following their mother's instruction to fold them up and put them away! But it still barely stacks up. And I'm told this is nothing compared to summer, when there are 5 woofers all fuelling the machine. In this lowest of carbon footprint households it seems curiously profligate.

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slowly slowly: umeboshi plums and permaculture

I'm trying to learn some Japanese cooking but it's difficult - being at the right place at the right time; seeing something through (preparation is often complex, taking place over a day or more); the ingredients are unfamiliar; and we have a language barrier. All this plus I reckon I have the skill level of an average 6-year-old.

Yesterday evening I was given a lethal hatchet knife to slice up spring onions. But my 3mm slices weren't good enough; 1mm was what was required. Not for the first time I felt very uncivilised. So, this morning, when Rie asked me to arrange some umeboshi plums from the bin where they'd been soaking in brine, to a flat basket, to dry, I made sure that they were arranged exactly as briefed. Which meant really slowing down, and concentrating. It's the same with the gardening, because of the approach to weed control. We're at the end of the major growing period so the weeds are as rampant as they'll ever be; even more so, in fact, because it looks as though things are a little behind schedule. What veggies remain are completely invisible, fighting for their lives in the jungle around them. So "weeding" becomes a delicate operation, pulling the weeds taught and slicing them at their base whilst not taking with them the precious remaining veggies. You'll understand this doesn't sit easily with my more gung-ho approach, and there were a few casualties.

We're having a run of balmy hot sunny days, which makes outdoor work a real pleasure, even if it's physically quite challenging. I get reminded, "Please take a rest". And much of the afternoon I am free. Someone has to light the fire around 2pm, and I'm guessing that will be me, tomorrow - as I've just been shown the process for the second time. 

Back to learning Japanese now... And then it'll be, "Please take a bath".

pooped

Today started with me sleeping through the village farm-workers' tannoy, and scrambling down the stairs to breakfast, late. It was then a heavy-duty morning hacking up a mound of huge plastic-hessian sacks ("not cut chicken today") in hot hot hot sun.

But no chance of a hot shower until the water is heated late afternoon. So I slooshed down with cold and then, at Masan's invitation, had a macomo (Manchurian wild rice) bath. For once the temperature was perfect and I had a blissful 20 minutes immersed up to my chin in coffee-dark water that has been continuously heated (and the water not changed) since the spring. The colour is given by a yeast taken from the macomo plant. It was an effort not to fall asleep.

I've put some photos of macomo on FB, taken in the small-holding. Even for Japan a macomo bath is unusual; people visit Masan's from far and wide. It has fabulous healing properties, particularly for skin problems. Lucky me!

Masan has been spending today with a regular guest who seems to be learning his "energy work". He needed people to practice on. So the 3 Woofers had their toes and fingers jiggled; a process of toxin elimination. Hard to feel the effect, tired and macomo-relaxed as I was. Then crawled to my bed space and hung out with the Radio 3 breakfast show until the under-the-eaves heat became intolerable. Oh for a comfy chair! But life is sweet...

But more lives have been lost in the Mt Ontake eruption than first appeared; Japanese bureaucracy (requirement for death certificate) slowing down the release of a figure. Next week I'll be even closer to the volcano than I already am, and planning a day of walking. Might need to revise plans.

shiatsu and the Sunday market

This morning we checked out a new local market. I was hoping to stock up on fruit but it turned out to be street food under a huge marquee with a running programme of dance acts on a stage at one end. So we had a team of 60-80-year-old women, "Pansy" emblazoned on the backs of their emerald-green T-shirts, kicking and twirling to a ditty from Okinawa; some break-dancing youths; and a group of infant kids. I've FB'd a couple of videos. It gave the impression that this a nation who just has to perform, with and without talent. But Machiko insisted that many Japanese are very shy. And I guess that's another reason why the drinking culture is so strong.

I let slip last week that I'm a shiatsu practitioner and Masan was quick to line me up, starting with a session for Rie. She is perceived as most in need, still recovering from a serious car accident last year. So this afternoon we hit the futon.

It was interesting, bringing Western-style shiatsu back to the country in which it originated - or at least gave it its name. I knew my quality of touch would be less physically challenging than a Japanese body worker's. And Rie's feedback confirmed this - and that what I had done was right for her today. So that was good. Masan, of the no-pain-no-gain mentality, will be a different ball game.

Shinto and chicken slaughter

Albums and video on FB

False alarm, charger is still working! The blog lives on.

Just to reassure you, although we're only 20km from today's eruption at Mt Ontake, we're not involved! And Masan's friend, who runs a refuge there, is alive...

Masan told me, when I arrived here 10 days ago, that every day would be different and boy has that been true. The one fixed element is my before-breakfast toilet/bathroom/scullery clean. Thereafter...

Today, after breakfast, we drove to a neighbour to pick up three hens that were being replaced owing to their lack of productivity. We would then kill them (yes, we're not strict vegans!) and eat them tonight. Things got a little complicated when it turned out that one of the hens had laid the night before: which one? Masan tried to determine, by feeling in their lower abdomen to see whether any eggs were "in the pipeline". More detail than you need, dear reader? Anyway, as things panned out he probably made the wrong choice - one of the two we killed was later found to have four... Aieee...

But I'm running ahead. Before the slaughtering Masan took me, with Fuku, to a local gorge that is a favourite place for him to pray, be with himself and nature, give thanks - and play his flute. Masan found it amusing that Fuku had chosen to wear flip flops, knowing the terrain. But had allowed her to discover the consequences by herself, yet another example of his hands-off, experiential parenting style. He commented on the power of water to wash away negativity, and how he felt it was good for Fuku simply to be there, to feel that quality. Looking around at the waterfalls, rocks, trees, stony-bedded stream, I was struck by how classic Japanese garden design takes its inspiration from the dominant landscape type. In the same way could one view English gardens as miniatures of the pastoral English landscape? Perhaps not - ours reflects our travel-botanising history.

At the entrance to the gorge was a shrine and Masan explained, and I copied, the bowing and clapping etiquette, that Fuku is beginning to learn, aged three. It's so completely simple and free of baggage, and everyone in Japan does it; a way to connect with oneself and the 8 million Shinto gods, and give thanks - or set a wish or intention. As we walked up the three-arch staircase we spent a few minutes pulling out weeds, being careful to stay to one side of the stairway, to allow the gods passage.

Yet again I found myself wishing I'd grown up in a culture where people are united in their spiritual life, and have strong local traditions and community spirit. I think of our local wood at Vaulnaveys, and the vodka-bottle-littering local lads. It isn't quite the same. But the practice of saying Thank you, many times a day, for people and experiences, and food... at the risk of it ringing empty through mechanically applying, there's nothing stopping any of us...

We paused at the daily farmers' market on the way home. I was expecting to see photogenic piles of exotic veg, but government legislation forces a high level of packaging. The result is an anaemic-looking cellophane-enclosed affair. Though I was impressed to see one large mushroom retailing at 10,000¥ (50 quid).

We were then all involved for a good part of the day in the chicken-killing and preparation process. I wasn't sure I wanted to seize the opportunity of killing a bird. And when I saw the way Dai-chan struggled to hold the bird still and slice into its throat I decided the second bird would suffer less without my involvement.

Both birds were put upside down in a box, to drain the blood. A little while afterwards Masan plunged them briefly into below-boiling water and we rushed to pluck them. That was the easy part. The skilled bit, which I managed to get out of, was disembowelling them. A really delicate operation that got me wondering to what extent it is mechanised in the UK. What a job, if it's done by hand. I've just Googled to see the score but, too quickly, found myself on a site about hygiene standards. I doubt we are complying so I decided not to look any further, or scare myself to death!

My role came at the point when the birds were gutted and cleaned: jointing, then cutting the meat from the bone. I've never attempted this with raw meat and it was bloomin' tricky. I did a real botch job, the first time so far that I've felt a lack of enthusiasm for a task.

As I watch the sun set from the window near my bed space I envy Dai-chan, here for an extended period to learn the good life. What can I take back...

The good news, for tonight, is that our guest left this morning, earlier than anticipated. I had heard him talking twenty to the dozen last night so wasn't surprised when Masan commented that he sometimes receives visits from "such a person", who is more interested in himself than in Masan and what's happening here, and who quickly thinks he's got the place sussed without being here enough to really feel it. It makes me want to relish every single minute if have in this precious place.

And, yet another lovely moment today: Fuku understanding my "Pass me the water, please", pouring me a glass, seeing that I had quickly drunken it and refilling my glass, in so doing giving me the most heartwarming smile. Remember, she is 3 years old! I haven't written much about the children because it is a slightly difficult area, the linguistic barrier slowing down the bonding. But at one moment today I had both Kanta and Fuku sitting on my knees as we watched the others working on the chickens. I was happy to be a simple "chair".

Later, at supper, chewing hard on the toughest chicken I've ever tasted, I admit the day's experience impacted on my appetite. It's no surprise to have Masan confirm what I already knew: in the past the slaughtering of animals was an occupation reserved for the lowest caste. Tomorrow I'm promised chicken curry. ????

the road to Tsumago

See FB timeline for pics.

This is surreal. I'm sitting in a cafe in Tsumago, with wi-fi connection, and "good king Wenceslas" playing. My desire to share, and blogging addiction, not to mention appreciative audience, is creating something of a hamster-wheel syndrome. But the Universe has intervened: the dodgy US connector I've been using to recharge the i-pad has finally fried (fingers crossed it hasn't done irretrievable damage to the i-Pad). Anyway, here goes, note-form this time...

Magome tourist info - I gasp when I read about bears. "Small bear, eat honny only", smiles info lady. Ah, we're talking cuddly Japanese Winnie the Pooh, that's alright, then. Anyway, 2cm bell you can hire is a joke and I decide to chance it without. Signs and bigger bells along the way slightly unnerving.

Pass house with tray of sweet potatoes for sale. Buy one for lunch. All along the way rest rooms, rest spots. Sound of running water: river, water-powered turbines, garden installations, ponds, vegetable-washing systems, you name it.

Lovely path through bamboo forest. Steep ravines shored up, a reminder that this is an unstable, slippy-slidy country. Also noticed evacuation area in village, and warning system in restaurant.

Pass ancient barn where friendly peasant of similar vintage provides elevenses in form of green tea, pickled cucumber and omeboshi plums. A first.

Hot, humid, a light breeze. Perfect for walking.

Arrive Tsumago for Internet cafe pause (too long) and then on to Nagiso to pick up train back to Nagatsugawa. Can't make contact with Masan as number Machiko gave me connects to a puzzled Japanese woman. Emailing works and Dai-chan meets me at the other end. Turns out I was talking to Machiko's grandmother. What?!

Happy to be "home". We have a paying guest, one of Masan's "fans", come to talk with him. Reminds me of how, in former times, people would gather around Percy Smith, at Pilsdon. A similarly charismatic leader.

Over and out before battery fails. Alas and alack...

a suit and a 17th-century village

See FB for pics.

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.

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...?