Life In Japan: New Kid on the Block

There’s always a surge of excitement when a new face appears on the scene. My village in Hyogo, Japan is no exception to this universal rule.

Yes, there’s a new kid in town. Her name is Mei, and we affectionately — already she has been accepted and embraced with an easy familiarity and an outpouring of love — call her Mei-chan. I have to say right up front, she’s a real charmer.

The home where she lives is quite close by. The houses here in the country are certainly not on top of one another. But it’s an easy walk from my front door to my neighbor’s home. Here is a photo taken from in front of my house of Mei’s new digs.

It’s a pretty typical Japanese home, traditional elements with lots of modern mixed in. Since my neighbor is a farmer, there are additional structures to house equipment, seeds, hay, tools, etc. That’s his rice field growing right in front of his house, quickly approaching the time for harvest. Farming is, of course, demanding work, to put it mildly. It’s certainly good to have extra hands on deck to help with the chores. I’m sure Mei will do her part to keep things running smoothly.

Now, without further ado, let me introduce you to the new kid on the block.

Mei-chan, a baby goat that speaks better Japanese than I do.

New kid? Get it? Ha ha ha ha! Okay. Not all that funny. But I’ve always been a compulsive kidder. The most repeated question I get is: “Are you serious?” As if I would know.

My neighbor has his hands full at this point. Of course, goats eat everything. Which is what makes them useful for weed control and clearing debris. But their omnivorosity — yes, I made up that word — embraces just about anything that will fit in their mouths, which can result in unintended destruction of everything less rugged than titanium. Right after this next photo was taken, Mei tried to gulp down the flowers in front of the house.

But how can anyone get upset? She’s just so darn cute! I’m reminded of this about twenty hours a day, when Mei declares her joy at just being alive, not that I’m privy to the nuances of goat speak. “Be-he-he-he! Be-he-he-he!” fills the airwaves morning, noon, and night. But she’s far enough away, I don’t find this especially annoying. In fact it’s pleasant in some odd fashion. It sure beats “Cock-a-doodle-doo!” or “Oink oink!”

I wish I had something profound to add here. As you know from reading my other writing, I usually like to close on a cosmic note, concluding with some epic morsel of wisdom.

I guess I’ll just settle for this elocution tip: ‘Mei’ is pronounce like the month of May.

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

Life In Japan: New Kid on the Block | John Rachel

Life In Japan: A Not-So-Random Act of kindness

Something happened the other day which really got me thinking.

Actually, there were two things. One was two weeks ago, the other just a few days ago.

Two weeks ago, I read the story behind the Simon & Garfunkel song, Sounds of Silence, in particular the opening lines: “Hello darkness, my old friend . . .” It is a truly awe-inspiring tale and I won’t attempt to capture it better than than Josh Mitteldorf did, author of this extraordinary article. I highly recommend it. It brought me tears of joy and admiration. Art Garfunkel apparently is a saint and saints seem hard to come by these days.

The second thing happened a few days ago on my “long bike ride”. Most of this 28 km pleasure cruise is on farm lanes and narrow, sparsely-traveled roads servicing the rice, bean, potato, and other fields in the areas surrounding my home on the outskirts of town.

But there is one stretch of road (pictured above) which skirts a highly-trafficked secondary highway. What happened occurred along this stretch.

At one point, I sensed that someone had just pulled into a drive I had just passed, and stopped. I turned to look and there was a man, probably in his 30s, getting out of a small truck. He was smiling, had something in his hand, and was waving it at me.

It was a bottle and it turned out to be a nicely-chilled sports drink.

That day, like many recently, was fairly hot. Of course, when you’re on a bike in the direct sun, it doesn’t take much to generate a slippery sweat, exhaustion, and a formidable thirst. No one says keeping in shape is easy.

I backtracked to the truck, he handed me the cool drink, I expressed my sincere gratitude.

That was it.

But think about this . . . I sure did!

This gentleman saw a stranger, an old guy cruising along in the hot sun on a bike, and actually took the time to share something he must have just bought at a nearby convenience store — there was a Lawson’s コンビニ [convenience store] very close to where he pulled over — purely out of kindness.

That’s the bottle there on the right.

Yes, it’s empty. I drank it. And I have to say, it really hit the spot!

At the same time, I’ll confess to . . . hmm . . . I’m not sure what to call it. Cultural flashback? Too-good-to-be-true paranoia? Be very afraid-ism?

After the initial rush of surprise, joy, gratitude, as the guy drove away, flashing a pleasant smile and a friendly wave of parting, doubt crept in. What if it’s poison? Maybe he’s some “sports drinker killer” and does this all of the time to get some homicidal kick? Have I ever known people like this? Would I even do this, wonderful person that I am except when someone makes fun of my nose or yells ‘Rod Stewart!’ at me?

The US is full of incredibly kind, generous, well-meaning, considerate, just-plain-decent folks. People who might do something like this — especially if they didn’t live in America. But there’s a lot of weird, ugly stuff that goes on. I’ve been attacked just walking down the street. I had a friend who was robbed in broad daylight with a gun pointed at his head, as he sat at a red light at a busy intersection in a beautiful, affluent area in L.A. When I was just an adolescent of 13, some of my teammates peed in a soda bottle and gave it to a fellow they didn’t like to drink. Does this kind of stuff happen everywhere? Do cops gun down people for jaywalking? Do punks ride around in cars and shoot up houses just for kicks or because a young man who lives there said ‘hi’ to one of the gang leader’s bimbos? Remember when they pulled bottles of the painkiller Tylenol because someone was going around lacing bottles with a lethal poison?

I know these things are not “the norm”, maybe not even really that common. But they do happen! And they plant seeds of doubt, suspicion, paranoia in everyone who listens to the 24/7 stream of horrible news which we are subjected to in our media-saturated lives.

Hence, my “cultural flashback” moment. A brief jolt of suspicion and fear.

The thing is — and I’m not saying this to give a rah-rah for Japan or claim superiority for my choice to live here — it rarely happens in Japan. There is practically no crime. There are practically no murders. There are few guns and private ownership of guns nearly non-existent. And as I’ve written about before, Japanese are honest to a degree that pushes the limits of believability. This is perhaps the safest country in the world! On every level.

It’s certainly safe to walk down the street or stop at a red light. I never worry about being shot. Or beat up by strangers.

And it’s safe to accept the generosity of a complete stranger . . . and drink a sports drink!

Yes, it sure hit the spot. And all I can say for this man’s not-so-random act of kindness is:

Thanks!

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If you’d like to learn more about what life is like in Japan for an American expat, let me put in a plug here for my book LIVE FROM JAPAN! and alert you to a special ebook sale that’s going on for the entire month of July.

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[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

Life In Japan: A Not-So-Random Act of kindness | John Rachel

Life In Japan: Our New Garden

Yep! It’s that time of year again. Actually, it was that time of year again well over a month ago when we started with the plot of plowed earth pictured above.

Time to plant a new garden!

If anyone doubts just how incredibly hard we had to work to get things in shape, these should dispel any skepticism. (Ignore the smile on our faces . . . admittedly it is fun!)

Cutting to the chase, here is how things are developing.

We’ve had a couple set-backs. My high-tech rain and bird shielding construct made of the finest netting and plastic didn’t do well during the first serious rain. I had to do it all over.

Then there was some low-tech but highly effective pilfering of our first two cucumbers by a Japanese raccoon dog. Yes, it’s a hybrid of a dog and a raccoon. Not quite sure how how that came about. This particular one is about 50 cm long, new to the neighborhood, and apparently loves cucumbers — not the skin, just the juicy insides. I always thought they were nocturnal but I spotted this fellow strolling by our back window in the bright sunshine of late morning, acting quite casual — FOR A THIEF! Masumi was understandable upset. Cucumbers are an important component of our sense of self-worth.

Anyway, here’s what our little garden looks like right now.

I know I know. This whole gardening escapade can’t compete with all that’s going on in the world . . . Ukraine, Biden’s latest gaffes, the Amber Heard/Johnny Depp trial, the shortage of baby formula, gasoline prices. But it’s not supposed to. Maybe that’s the whole idea, eh?

I’ve mentioned a number of times that we live in the middle of rice and bean fields. Good farming methodology dictates rotation of crops, to keep down soil depletion. Looks like the field in front of our house will be growing rice this year. Here’s our neighbor playing in the mud with his tractor.

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]

Life In Japan: Our New Garden | John Rachel

Life In Japan: Planting Rice

                                          Photo taken from the front door of my house.

Preparing the soil to plant rice is a wet, muddy, mucky mess.  l know because I've watched them prepare the fields directly in front of my house several years on and off.



They flood the area, let is soak for several days, then drive a tractor through the mud -- I'm amazed they don't get stuck -- giving it a hardy blend and a stir, because apparently having the amiable consistency of quicksand makes it more of an inviting and nurturing environs for the soon-to-be-planted rice seedlings.

The seedlings are grown in green houses by the millions, sold to the farmers, then the real fun begins.



Now there may have been a time -- at least a hundred years ago -- when Japanese farmers planted them by hand.  This tedious method is still practiced in parts of China and nations of Southeast Asia.  I've seen it myself in my travels.

But leave it to the Japanese to come up with a machine that does in minutes what used to take a week.  No need for artificial intelligence or quantum computing here.  Just good basic mechanical design does the job.

It's astonishing how quickly the rice grows.  Soon our entire valley is an intense, vibrant green, going from almost incandescent lime to the rich, deep emerald of a mature plant.  Maybe I have too much time on my hands and too little excitement, but when I ride my bike through the fields of viridescent rice, I'm struck by the incredible beauty of it all.



And to think.  This entire process starts with men -- who as I noted in another article -- never outgrew the desire to play in the mud.



[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]





Life In Japan: Planting Rice

Life In Japan: Harvesting Rice

First, they prepare the soil.

Then they plant the rice.

The rice grows.

Then . . .

[ DRUM ROLL ]

They harvest the rice!

Can you feel the excitement?

Granted it's not as riveting as World Cup Rugby. . . or watching the Oscars . . . or having Vladimir Putin drop by for lunch.

But it's what they do here in Tambasasayama — year after year.  It's the cycle of farming, the rhythm of the seasons, the drumbeat of life.

Being raised in a major city, a factory town no less, I find this whole business fascinating.  Almost magical!  Detroit didn't have any farms back then, though I hear these days there are quite a few organic gardens in the empty lots remaining after the houses are burned down.

To really do this right requires bringing out some industrial-strength gadgetry.

I tell people I live in the middle of rice and soybean fields.  Indeed we do.  They of course rotate the crops to keep the soil full of vitality.  And throw other vegetables into the mix.

Just a few days ago, quite late in the season, they finally harvested the rice growing directly in front of our home.  As you can see in the photo below, we have a forest right behind us.  That's my wife Masumi's Mazuda Demio sitting out front of our place. 

She thinks it's funny I take so many "farm photos".  I guess it is.





[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]




Life In Japan: Harvesting Rice