Miya Pota - The Utsunomiya Pottering Club: The Story Begins

April 12, 2014 marks the official start of the Utsunomiya Pottering Club here. It's been a long haul getting this project off the ground and an interesting learning curve. It has taken about two and a half years to go from idea to realization. This process began at a time I had literally no friends or acquaintances here, to now where I have a rolodex full of business cards of people I can call on about cycling, government projects related to cycling at the city, prefectural, national and international levels, and things to do in Utsunomiya ranging from museum directors to amateur archaeologists. It's been quite a long process, but the cogs seemed to have meshed early this year through, as usual, serendipitous circumstances. There seems to be a timing to these things. I've heard a saying "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear". Perhaps in this case, "When the project is ready, the participants will appear".

Our outing came with perfect weather for cycling. A bit on the cool side, but not too windy and very sunny. The trip was well planned from beginning to end: Some folks rented cycles where we started, at the Miya Cycle Station, and we set off. First stop was at the shidarezakura, (drooping cherry trees) by the Tagawa River. Photos taken. Then off to Hachimanyama Park and up to the observation deck of Utsunomiya Tower. The view was fairly good, a bit hazy, but to the east the mountains in Ibaraki were visible to Tsukubasan, the southernmost peak in that range, to the west, the Nikko Range was clear, Nantaisan, one of the tallest in the range still covered with snow at the top, and in the center the Kanto Plain spreading out toward Saitama Prefecture and Tokyo.

After descending from the tower we moved on toward Oya, a very ancient town existing since the Heian Period, famous for its stone and its quarries. Most warehouses in the Tochigi area are built of Oya stone and are still a fairly common sight. We went down inside the quarry which was very cold and dark giving it a mysterious, cathedral-like quality. I was told that it had been used as a factory to make fighter planes by Fuji Heavy Industries during the war. In contrast to that martial past, there is a statue of the Goddess of Mercy, very tall and beautiful, made of Oya stone. Also nearby is a temple with a Thousand Hand Goddess of Mercy supposedly carved by Kobo Taishi, the founder of the Shingon Mikkyo Sect of Buddhism in Japan over a thousand years ago. Whether he carved it or not, it is accurately dated to the Heian Period.

From there we set off to Minami Utsunomiya and had monjiyaki. It is like monjayaki, eaten in Tokyo, except it is an Utsunomiya version. I had never heard of it before, but the entire experience was like going back 40 years in time. The proprietress has been running the shop for a long time, decades. The shop looks old and feels comfortable and warm. The proprietress explained how to eat it and we each ordered a bowl and then fried it on the grill at the table. Quite fun and congenial. The rule here is: Play with your food. This was a real neighborhood spot. All the customers talked to each other, including us, and it was easy to feel like family or a neighbor. My lunch was five dollars. And I was full. Thank you Kikuyasan.

The last leg was back to the Miya Cycle Station where we said our goodbyes. We are looking forward to more trips together.

My own reflection on this trip were: cycling is a great way to share an experience. Parking is easy, you can stop when you feel like it, and you can really enjoy the scenery.  Also, pottering offers the benefits of mutual assistance (there were folks who were having trouble operating theirs and others to help them), sharing favorite secret spots, and interests. This social aspect is crucial to friendship building. The people in our group were very kind to each other and rich in experiences. Cycling was also a platform to dive into different topics. We are not one dimensional beings.

This will be a learning curve. I'm learning new things, becoming more proactive in making things happen and organizing. It helps when you realize you don't have to do it all yourself. I look forward to our next trip to see what adventures and experiences await us.

By the way, this is probably my last blog on Blogger. Blogger does not support iPhoto and uploading photos from there to here is just too difficult. I have a feeling this is due to the falling out between Apple and Google as there was a time when uploading pics was a breeze. Too bad. I will confine my thoughts to Facebook, which may be a horrible business, but does do what I need it to do: upload photos and videos easily,  and reach an audience of folks who actually look at it. Does anyone actually read the blogs on Blogger? Facebook may be horrible, but you do get feedback. So thanks for all of you who've been reading this sporadic blog. If you follow Facebook you can find me there either under Peter Smith (I'm the one in Utsunomiya) or 宮ポタ.

Adult Day

January 15th is Adult Day in Japan. It's a time when young men and women turning twenty get dressed up, go to their local shrine and have a party with friends. Utsunomiya is no different from anywhere else in the country this weekend. Plenty of kimono clad young women out strutting their stuff. Well, perhaps not strutting, but surely enjoying all the attention they get on Adult Day. It's kind of like the prom without the hassle of dating. You get to wear a great outfit, take lots of pictures, eat out somewhere nice and attend a party, often with speeches as is common here. The weather was sunny and clear which seemed to match the kimonos worn. I killed two birds with one stone today and did my first shrine visit of the year. Better never to be late, but… oh, well. Sunshine, pretty, happy young women in kimonos. It was a good day.

Dough-Donuts

This Saturday I explored the Momijidori section of Utsunomiya. It's fairly close to the Tobu department store, but because it's not between the main shopping area and downtown, it has been off the radar screen for lots of folks. Recently it has undergone a slow revival owing to its stock of old, quirky buildings ripe for small businesses such as cafes and accessory stores. Another and equally important reason is the vision of a young realtor who has seen the potential of this area, its proximity to downtown and the new vision that many young hip Japanese are chasing; the independent business with a modern sensitivity.

One of the places I went to that day was a donut shop. I must admit that, for the most part, I am not a big donut fan. I normally find them cloyingly sweet, often akin to eating sugar with a little bit of greasy dough. The donuts at Dough-Donuts were not too sweet and not greasy. I was impressed. The presentation was beautiful too with the doughnuts wrapped in large white bags, the shops logo tastefully printed in small cursive on the corner. Very sophisticated. Other people, they seemed to be regulars from the neighborhood, came in to order donuts and chat a bit. It felt very homey. 

I'll be back.

apple donut. Goood!

maple sweet potato. Yum!

A Bit of Hawaii Comes to Utsunomiya

Yesterday, on an early November Saturday, there was a hula exhibition at the foot of Futaarasan Shrine. I had just left Parco department store to go home when I heard the sound of Hawaiian music from across the street. Curiosity piqued, I went to see what was going on. As I imagined, there was a hula show taking place.

Dancers were out in their bare feet swaying to the music this cold day. Their dedication to their art was impressive. I wouldn't have wanted to dance on cold stone pavement with the threat of rain in the air. There were a number of dance teams, each dancing to a different song. The songs were sung in Hawaiian (recorded), but the dancers seemed to know the words and were singing along. It was fascinating to see the almost trancelike states that the more advanced dancers achieved. They seemed to be truly telling a story with their hands and body. I noticed how centered the good dancers were. It was like watching a religious dance, which it probably was originally and perhaps continues to be in Hawaii itself.

The troupe leader and emcee was explaining the context for many of the dances and it was enlightening to hear themes such as harvesting seaweed and taro and other daily activities. The hand gestures and lower body movement of hips and feet were very evocative of their themes. I couldn't help thinking about the commonalities of Japanese dance and Hawaiian. At their foundation they are about telling stories and they are about the linking of the sacred with the mundane. It was touching to see something that was so expressive and joyful. This is what great dance is, isn't it? Whether it's flamenco or Japanese festival dancing, it expresses our feelings about life wordlessly through movement.

And the little girls were adorable.

Temma

I love Osaka. And in Osaka there is a section called Temma, that I love a lot. It is full of bars, but it's not creepy, or sleazy or sketchy like some bar districts can be in other places. It is a very blue collar, white collar, middle class place. There is a large mix of buildings, but most of them are old, wooden and a tad tired looking. A friend and I had just eaten dinner at an Italian place that looks just like a run-down izakaya and not at all Italian restaurant-like from the outside, although they have great Italian food. We were wandering, exploring the neighborhood and I wanted to take in one more place before going back when I ran across the Inada Sake Shop. We parted the noren curtain and entered a very neighborhood stand bar. There was oden, and other bar food and since their main business was selling sake, they had a wonderful selection which we took full advantage of. After having our oden and sake we left at the same time as another group who were intent on telling us non-Osakans what a great place this was. "Very Osaka! Very Osaka!" Which having been to numerous bars in Tokyo, I can assure you was, indeed, very Osaka. The customers were friendly, the staff was friendly, they catered to my desire for something medium dry and they didn't overcharge us. Thank you Temma! I'll be back.

Kyoto Calligraphy

I was in Kyoto over the Culture Day holiday weekend. While I was there I was caught by the profusion of interesting calligraphy that abounds in the temples, shrines and shops in that city. Here are some examples. It would be great if I could read them all, but I can't. I enjoy them all on an aesthetic level. Here is what information I can give. 

Taken at Tenryuji near Arashiyama

Rakushisha, the falling persimmon hut of Kyorai, Matsuo Basho's number one acolyte. 

I have no idea what this means. It looks very zen. 

This was above a temple gate. I can't read it, but I like it. 

I like the motion and line quality of this. I will have to ask my calligraphy teacher if she can read it. 

Bringing in the Sheaves

Today I had a brand new experience. I harvested rice. I had been looking forward to this day all summer and I wasn't disappointed.

handing out sickles

It all started in May when my friend Tanakasan, a farmer and photographer in southern Tochigi asked me and a lot of other folks to help him plant his rice field. I was out of the country, unfortunately, but for the rice harvest I was free. There was another invitation in the beginning of August and I gladly jumped at the chance to do something new.

I had met Tanakasan through the Noendan, a group of young farmers in Tochigi, looking at new ways to make a living through agriculture. He impressed me with his warm and gentle manner and his curiosity. Also the fact that he was dedicated to pesticide-free farming was very attractive. So this was part of the fruit born from that meeting almost two years ago; a day of harvesting rice by hand.

the rice field

About twenty adults and ten children came to the event. Most were from Tokyo and  a smattering of Tochigi people. Tanakasan provided the tools, the rice field the know-how and the food and drinks. We provided the labor. It was a fair exchange.

a pre-rice sheaf

The harvest started at ten. I put my bike on the train at Utsunomiya and got off at Mamada station at 9:30. I rode past rice fields, over the Omoi River, past more rice fields, plant heads heavy, waiting to be harvested, until I finally reached his home in the little town of  Fujioka machi about twenty minutes later. I registered for my rice and then we left for the rice field to start harvesting.

Harvesting is a two step process: cutting and drying. Cutting is the easy part. Drying is the more difficult.

I mentioned earlier that Tanakasan provided the tools and know-how. Well, he and his dad did. First we learned how to cut the rice plants at the right height. (Not too high). Then we learned how to stack the plants. About three groups of plants are cut and laid on the ground and then two more groups of plants are cut and laid on top of that in an X. This will be bound as a sheave late to be hung to dry on a bamboo rack. Cutting took about an hour and a half to complete. Then it was our first break and treat, lunch.

Lunch was amazing. Tanakasan's mom, along with about three or four others from what I could tell, had made quite a meal for all of us. There was simmered Chinese melon, squash and sweet potatoes simmered in soy sauce, cucumber and eggplant pickles, slightly salted, but still with their vegetable sweetness in the background, inari sushi, sweet deep fried tofu skins stuffed with Tanakasan's rice, three kinds of fish, freshly cooked rice which had been cooked outside over a fire, and finally for dessert, cold pear apples, grapes and figs. Everyone was stuffed after lunch. Many of us probably would have preferred to take a nap to going back to the field, but back to the field we went.

what we gleaned

Round two took more time. We made sheaves and hung them to dry. We tied the bundles with straw which had been wetted and thus was pliable. I was the first one taught how to do this, so I wound up being the instructor for many of the Japanese. The process is quite simple. Take about five strands of straw, wrap them around the bundle and make a half-hitch. Tighten the bundle as much as possible and then bring the ends together, twist them and stuff them behind the half-hitch. It's easy.  It's efficient.  It uses materials at hand. It's ingenious. It's a dying art.

hanging sheaves to dry

After making sheaves we hung them grain side down on the rack. The aim of hanging them this way is for the sugar in the stalk to flow down into the head as it dries giving it more starch and thus more flavor. It took about two and a half hours to bundle and hang the sheaves and then we took about twenty minutes to glean the field. There were a lot of rice strands that had fallen or hadn't been cut lying about so we picked those up and added them to the sheaves. No waste is a virtue.

home grown figs

We returned to the farmhouse, had one more tea and set off for home. The Tokyo people went back home by car. The carless were chauffeured to Nogi station and I set off for Mamada station again on my bike. Back past rice fields, over the river, past people harvesting rice with machines until reaching Mamada. Then the ritual of folding my bike, wrapping my bike, putting it on the elevator, waiting on the platform for the train, tying it to a bar in the train and sitting down, sure of the fact that no one would ever touch it, then reversing the process after getting to Utsunomiya.

What a great day it was. Useful work. Mixing with nice people. Learning new skills. A great day indeed. I am a lucky guy.