井氷鹿の里でのお盆 Obon at Ihika-No-Sato

井氷鹿の里でのお盆

　川上村井光地区の「井氷鹿の里」での朝は大きな手書きの予約表から始まった。管理者であるタノッチ（田野さん）はその表を使って、お盆の時期にバーベキューや釣り場やつかみ取りのプールを予約したお客さんを整理した。誰が何人で何時にどこで何をするか、の貴重な情報だ。１日をタノッチと過ごして、その表の大切を実感した。
　井光川を登ってきた大型ヴァンは、９時半ごろ次々と現れた。定番のサングラスとショートパンツの大人たち。後席から転がりそうなエネルギーで走り回った子供たち。「すみません、検温と手の消毒をお願いしてもいいですか」の安全対策を済ましてから、タノッチはてきぱきと予約の確認、説明、会計をした。僕はつかみ取りのプールに水を流しておき、それを待ちながら、お客さんのアマゴを取りに行った。大きな水槽の蓋を開けて、すぐ逃げちゃうアマゴたちを小さなネットで集めようとしたが、思うようにいかへん。数匹が取れても、足りなかった。バケツのアマゴたちも騒ぎ、逃げようとするし、バケツにいるだけでアマゴが弱ってしまうから、早くせなあかん！目標の数が集められたら、慌てた足でバケツをつかみ捕りのプールへ運び、子供たちの目の前に放流した。上に戻ったら、タノッチは釣りのお客さんを受け付けしていて、竿を選んでもらっていた。それから、釣りをする場所をお客さんに選んでもらってから、タノッチは手際よくネットで水槽のアマゴを掬い上げ、バケツとスカリを階段の下まで運んだ。井光川の水が谷の上から流れ続けて、７つの段で分けられたお客さんの釣り場を通った。
　事務所からつかみ取りのプールや水槽や釣り場へ行き来て走りながら、タノッチは頻繁に鳴る電話やお客さんの質問に礼儀正しく対応した。芝犬であるコロモちゃんは事務所の外に座り、子供たちに撫でてもらったり、昼寝をしたりをした。他に手伝えることがあるのではないかと思って、僕は竿の針を付け直す練習をした。正午に近づき、お客さんたちがそれぞれの昼ご飯を食べたら、施設の全体的な雰囲気が少し落ち着いた。１日の最高温度を逃げて、僕らは事務所で水分の補給をした。しかし、電話が鳴り続け、昼下がりから、また魚の放流や針の付け直しや、流されたスカリを取りに行く時間になった。
　タノッチは会計から予約の管理、トラブルの解決までのあらゆることに対応しながら、階段から階段へ走り、頭から足がとても疲れそうだった。彼の疲労である「影」には、まだ「光」もあり、それがきっとお客さんたちの楽しみだった。つかみ取りのプールで遊んだ子供たちはずっと笑っていた。娘たちに釣りのことを教えていたお父さんたちも静かに喜んでいたのであろう。自分の釣った魚をさばき、バーベキューで焼く家族や友達のメンバーが川上村に来て、賑やかな時間を過ごせたのではないか、と僕は思う。今年の溜まってきたストレスを解消する機会でもあったかもしれない。
　夕方になったら、あの手書きの予約票の全ての名前がチェックされた。荷物を片付け、大型ヴァンに乗り、下流の彼方へ消えたみなさんは、川上村から素敵な思い出を持って帰ったのだろう。僕にとっても、暑くて汗をかく、ちょっと魚臭いの時間だったけど、タノッチと二人でバタバタするのが楽しかった。

Obon at Ihika-No-Sato

The morning at Kawakami’s Ihika-No-Sato began with the handwritten reservation grid. The manager, Tanochi, used that grid to keep track of all of the guests who reserved barbecues, fishing spots, and the pools to grab fish. Precious information of who and how many did what, where, and when. After spending a day with Tanochi, I got a feel for how important that grid was.
After climbing up the Ikari River, the large vans began appearing around 9:30. Adults, with their obligatory sunglasses and shorts. The kids, rolling out of the back seat and running around with boundless energy. “Excuse me, please take your temperature and disinfect your hands,” Tanochi said, getting through the safety measures before checking reservations, explaining the system, and accepting payment. I started filling up a pool, and while waiting, went to get the guest’s amago trout. I opened the lid of the big tank, and tried to snag the quick amago with a small net, but it didn’t go as planned. Even if I caught a few, they weren’t enough. The amago in the bucket rebelled and tried to escape, and since the fish lose strength by just being in the bucket, I had to hurry up! Once I had the right amount, I hurried with the bucket down to the pool, and released the fish in front of the kids. When I got back up, Tanochi was checking in some guests who came to fish, and they were choosing their fishing poles. After they decided where they wanted to fish, Tanochi easily scooped up a netful of amago, and carried the bucket of fish and basket to keep them down the steps. Water from the Ikari River continued to flow down from the top of the valley, passing through the seven divided fishing spots.
While running between the office, the pools, the tanks, and the fishing spots, Tanochi politely answered the incessantly ringing telephone and any of the guests’ questions. The Shiba-inu Koromo-chan sat outside the office, getting pet by kids and napping. Looking for something else I could help with, I practiced re-attaching fish hooks to poles. As noon neared, guests began eating lunch, and the overall mood of the facility settled down. Getting away from the hottest temperatures of the day, we stayed in the office and rehydrated. However, the phone kept on ringing, and after lunch, it was once again time to release those fish, re-attach those fish hooks, and go retrieve any of those fishing baskets that came loose and sunk down to the bottom of the river.
Takes care of everything from payment to managing reservations and fixing any trouble, he ran from stairs to stairs, and seemed like he was worn out from head to foot. For the “shadow” that his exhaustion might be, there is also a “light”, and I think that must be all of the joy of the guests. Kids grabbing fish in those pools were always laughing and having fun. Dads teaching their daughters how to fish must have been quietly happy as well. I think that the families and groups of friends who caught their own fish, then gutted and barbecued them were able to come to Kawakami Village and have a pretty exciting time. It might have even been a way to relieve a lot of the stress that has built up this year.
In the evening, all of the names on that handwritten reservation grid had been checked off. Packing up their things, getting in their large vans, and disappearing downstream, I bet they all took home some beautiful memories of Kawakami Village. Even for me, it was a hot, sweaty, and sometimes fishy day, but it was a lot of fun staying busy with Tanochi.

野鳥の教訓 Lessons of Wild Birds

野鳥の教訓

　今年の春から、僕はかわかみ源流ツーリズムの鳥類調査に同行する機会があった。英語で「早起きの鳥は虫を捕らえる」という諺（「早起きは三文の徳」に近い）があるので、午前５時半にあきつの小野公園から出発すると言われた時、僕はあまり驚かなかった。野鳥の専門家４人、川上村からの３人は公園の駐車場で気楽な挨拶を交わした時、数えきれない野鳥たちも周りの山々からお互いに賑やかな挨拶をしていた。双眼鏡を使って、薄暗い朝空や森林の隅から隅まで探しても、その野鳥たちがなかなか見当たらなかった。先生たちと話しながら、最初の「教訓」を学んだ：野鳥の観察とは、目ですることより、最初に耳でした方が早い、ということだ。
　野鳥を耳で探すために、それぞれのさえずりを聞き分ける必要がある。我々人間はそのさえずりを覚えるために、自分の口で「ききなし」を作ったりする。例えば、ウグイスの「ホーホケキョウ」が有名だ。ホトトギスの「東京特許許可局」やキビタキの「ピッピッピッ、クルル」などもあり、ききなしは野鳥の言葉を人間の言葉に翻訳したものだ。覚えておくしかない。
　鳥類調査を行うために、僕らは午前中、川上村のあちこちに行き、ヒヨドリやカケスやどんな野鳥を見たかを記録した。僕らは波津地区や上谷地区や上多古川を回ってから、筏場の近くに車を駐めて、双眼鏡とカメラを持ちながら歩いた。村民同士は枯れ木の枝に座っていた、小さなオオルリを見つけた。「鳥は枯れ木が好きですか？」と僕は先生に聞いてみた。「いいえ」と先生は苦笑いで言い、「枯れ木で見つけやすいだけだ」と。それで次の教訓を学んだ：森林の木をいちいち見ることより、木の梢や枯れ木の枝や電線などの見つけやすいところから探す、ということだ。
　筏場からの帰り道で、僕らは大迫ダムの近くに車を駐めて、周りの山々と大きな青空を見渡した。しばらく何も見えなかったけど、先生の一人は大きな望遠鏡を向こうの山際へ向けた。「ハヤブサだ〜。そこにいるかなと思いました」と先生は嬉しく言った。僕の双眼鏡で見ても、鳥の小さな輪郭しか見えなかった。先生の望遠鏡のレンズから、山際の岩にぽつんと座っていたハヤブサがはっきり見えた。どれほど見ても、ハヤブサがその上空の風で落ち着いて、じっと座っていた。そのハヤブサを見るだけで、世界がとても静かに感じた。
　後日、僕らは大迫ダムに戻って、望遠鏡で猛禽類を探してみたが、あの岩に何もいなかった。それで、今回の最後の教訓を学んだ：どんな野鳥を見ても、その野鳥をまた見られるというわけではない。一回だけの方が普通に感じる。それは目の前を一瞬で横切るカワセミやミサゴかもしれない。何が飛んでくるか分からないからこそ、その瞬間を大切にしよう。

Lessons of Wild Birds

This spring, I had the opportunity to participate in Kawakami Genryu Tourism’s wild bird census. In English, we say that “the early bird gets the worm”, so I wasn’t too surprised when I was told that we’d begin at 5:30 a.m. at Akitsuno-ono Park. When the four bird experts and the three of us from Kawakami greeted one another in the parking lot, countless birds were also energetically greeting one another in the mountains around us. I used my binoculars to search the still dark morning sky and every corner of the forest, but I didn’t find any wild birds. As I was speaking with the experts, I learned my first lesson: Bird watching is a lot faster and easier if you use your ears, not your eyes.
To search for these birds, we have to be able to differentiate between their calls. To help remember those calls, us humans use our own mouths to create an imitation, called a “kikinashi” in Japanese. For example, the Japanese bush warbler’s “hoh-ho-ke-kyoh” is pretty well-known. With the lesser cuckoo’s “Tohkyoh-tokkyo-kyoka-kyoku”, which sounds like a patent permission office in Tokyo, and the narcissus flycatcher’s “pip-pip-pi, kururu”, these kikinashi imitations are examples of the language of birds being translated into the language of humans. All we can do is memorize them.
To conduct the wild bird census, we went all around Kawakami throughout the morning, and recorded all of the brown-eared bulbuls, Eurasian jays, and other birds that we saw. After going around the Hazu district, Kodani district, and up Kodako River, we parked our cars near Ikadaba and walked around with our binoculars and cameras. One of my fellow villagers found a blue-and-white flycatcher sitting on the branch of a withered tree. “Do birds like withered trees?”, I asked one of the experts. “No,” he said with a wry smile, “they’re just easier to find there.” That was how I learned the next lesson: rather than looking at every tree in the forest, it’s easier to first search the tops of trees, branches of withered trees, and power lines first.
On the way back, we parked our cars near Osako Dam and looked across the mountains and the wide blue sky. For a while we didn’t see anything, but then one of the experts aimed his large telescope up toward the edge of a mountain. “It’s a peregrine falcon, I thought one might be there,” he said gladly. Even if I looked with my binoculars, all I could see was a tiny silhouette of the bird. Through the lens of the expert’s telescope, we could clearly see the falcon perched on some boulders all alone at the top of the mountain. No matter how long I gazed at it, the peregrine falcon sat still and calm in the winds of the upper air. Just looking at it made the world feel very quiet.
On a later day, we went back to Osako Dam and searched for more birds of prey, but there wasn’t anything up there on those boulders. That was how I learned the last lesson for this time: Regardless of what kind of wild bird we see, we won’t necessarily be able to see that bird again. Once feels more like the norm. It might be a kingfisher or osprey that crosses right before our eyes in a moment. Since we never really know what’s going to come flying by, let’s enjoy those moments.

水源地へ登る Climbing to the Source of the Water

水源地へ登る

　台所の蛇口のハンドルを回して、ペットボトルに水をたっぷり入れてから、僕はそのボトルをカバンに詰め込み、登山靴を履いた。区長は軽トラックの荷台にノコギリとウォーキングスティックを乗せた。僕らは彼の軽トラックに乗り、上多古川の上流へ走りながら、道がだんだん狭くなった。彼は古びた橋と「危険！この付近は熊が出没します。ご注意ください！」の看板の近くに軽トラックを駐車した。谷の木々でやりとりをしていた野鳥のさえずりに包まれながら、僕らはその古い橋を渡り、山の道を登り始めた。
　僕は上多古に移住してきて、今月まる4年になった。家で料理をしたり、洗濯物をしたり、お風呂に入ったりする生活を送りながら、この家の水がどこから来ているかがはっきり分からなかった。「山の奥から来ている」と何回も言われて納得していたけど、いつも「どこから、どうやって」を考えさせる好奇心が残っていた。そのため、「いつでも行けるよ」と区長に言ってもらった時、ちょっとワクワクした。
　曲がりくねった登り道が山の半ばまで続き、僕らはそこから谷の上へ向かった。木々と苔の圧倒的な緑に覆われた谷の下で小さな沢が流れた。落ち枝や大きな石を道の横へのけながら、道をジャリジャリと登った。また熊の出没を注意させる看板を通った。そのうち、青くて分厚い配管が見えてきた。「この配管が上多古の水を運んどる」と区長は言った。その配管が十メートルの滝の横を通り、谷の奥へずっと伸びていた。
　数百年生だと思える大きな栃の木を過ぎてから、また上へ曲がりくねった道を登った。直に崩れそうな道でも、区長は手際よくウォーキングスティックを使って、汗をかかずに登った。彼は道の上に止まり、「ここは水源地や」と言い、目の下の沢とそこから始まる配管を指した。配管が泥などを取る機械を通ってから、谷の下へ続いた。僕らは大きな木につながれたロープを掴みながら急な斜面を下り、沢の石を歩いてみた。軽トラックに帰る前に、僕は鞄からペットボトルを取り出して、自分の蛇口で入れた水を飲んだ。
　うちの水はここから来る。この美しくて、力強い谷で溜まった水はだんだん沢になり、非常に長い配管で僕らの家々へ流れる。台風の後、蛇口から出る水が少し濁っても、それが仕方がなく、水が山から直接来ているからだ。この山々が今まで大切にされていたから、この自然な風景と綺麗な水がまだ残っている。川上村に住みながら、おいしい水に恵まれているだけではなく、こんな素敵な大自然と優しい人にも恵まれていると思い知らされた。

Climbing to the Source of the River

After twisting my kitchen faucet and filling my plastic bottle with water, I shoved the bottle into my bag and put on my hiking boots. Our area manager loaded his saw and walking stick into the bed of his truck. We hopped into his truck, and as we road up the Kodako River, the road gradually narrowed. He parked his truck near an old bridge and a sign that read, “Danger! Bears in this area. Be careful!”. Wrapped in the back and forth songs of birds in the trees, we crossed that old bridge and climbed up the mountain path.
It is four years this month since I’ve moved to Kodako. While spending my days cooking at home, doing laundry, takings baths, etc., I’ve never quite understood where exactly our water came from. I had been told, “It’s from deep in the mountains.” many times and was satisfied with that, but I was always left wondering about the where and how. That’s why when our area manager said, “Sure, we can go anytime.”, I was a little excited.
The twisting, ascending path continued to the middle of the mountain, and we headed up the valley from there. A small stream flowed through the bottom of the valley, which was covered by the overwhelming green of trees and moss. We tossed fallen branches and large rocks off to the side as we climbed up the gravelly path. Once again, we passed a sign warning us of bears in the area. At some point, a thick, blue pipe appeared. “That pipe is carrying all of Kodak’s water,” our manager said. The pipe passed the side of a 10-meter high waterfall and stretched farther up the valley.
After passing a horse-chestnut tree that is probably a few hundred years old, we climbed up another twisting path. Even on paths that looked like they might crumble soon, our manager skillfully used his walking stick and climbed without breaking a sweat. He stopped at the top of the path and said, “This is the source of the water,” as he pointed down to the stream and the pipe that began there. The pipe passed through a machine that filters out all of the dirt, etc., and continued down the valley. We grabbed onto a rope tied to a large tree, climbed down the steep slope, and walked onto the stones in the stream. Before heading back to the truck, I grabbed by plastic bottle from my bag, and drank some of the water from my faucet.
This is where our water comes from. Water that gathers in this beautiful, powerful valley becomes a stream, and then flows to our houses in Kodako through this extremely long pipe. Even if it is a little cloudy after a typhoon, that is just how it is, it is because this water is coming directly from the mountains. Since these mountains have always been taken care of, we still have all of this natural scenery and clean water. I was reminded that while living in Kawakami Village, we’re not just blessed with delicious water, but also with gorgeous nature and nice people as well.

川上村にいたイギリス人 An Englishman in Kawakami

川上村にいたイギリス人

　先月、オイデ新聞の読者が明治十二年（西暦：1879年）に川上村の山々を歩いたサー・アーネスト・サトウ氏について連絡してくださった。イギリスの外交官であったサトウ氏は、日本での探検を日記で記録し、その日記に基づいた「日本の北部・中部のガイドブック」を出版した。字体が重くて、一行が短いが、この本の文章は次々に自然に流れて、とても読みやすい。「那智滝から吉野へ」という章で、サトウ氏のグループは大台ケ原の宿から下り、吉野川の流れとともに北へ向かった。
　サトウ氏は白いツツジを通り、二時間ほど歩いてから、伯母ヶ谷に着いた。「伯母ヶ谷という集落への道は、川のほとりまで急に下り坂となり、また上へ五百フィート（約百五十二メートル）をかけるものであった。この集落は樹木に覆われた谷の中腹の岩壁の下に絵のように美しく位置している」。伯母ヶ谷から歩き、大迫を通過し、柏木に着いた。サトウ氏は柏木の旅館でガイドを雇い、四つの鍾乳洞を案内してもらった。菊の窟の後、不動の窟に入った。「不動の窟はより繊細だ。三つの空向で成り立っていて、それらがつらら石や滝で装飾されている。室の間の通路は天井がとても低い。役の小角はここに住んでいたと言われている」。柏木の後、サトウ氏たちは吉野川を渡って「わだ」という集落に行き、「水晶の窟」にも入った。「わだ」から北へ続く道は、もう一度吉野川を渡り、山々に狭まれた下多古や井戸を通る。人知に着いたら、谷が広くなり、川向こうに「白屋」という素敵な集落が見えた。当日も晴れたし、とても気持ち良さそうな散歩だった。僕に一番印象を残したのがこの最後の文章だった。「その下り道は、川を沿って続きながら、狭い谷の「迫」を通る。ここに「丹生の川上」という神道の神社がある。それから、「てらを」から「大滝」という賑やかな村へ。急流で木の筏を手際よく導いて流す男たちを見るのが楽しい。彼らは泡立っている川の下へ見え隠れしながら、下流へ流れていく」。
　明治十二年は百四十一年前で、川上の町村制の直前だった。筏が流れた、ダムのない吉野川の風景はもちろん現在の村と違ったが、木々に覆われた山々や洞窟の神秘さはあまり変わっていない気がする。見覚えのある「柏木」や「井戸」や他の集落の名前を次々に読み、川上村のあちこちでサトウ氏の足跡を想像するのが楽しい。

An Englishman in Kawakami

Last month, one of our readers contacted me about Sir Ernest Satow, who walked across the mountains of Kawakami Village in 1879. An English diplomat, he recorded his expeditions in Japan in his diary, and published the “Handbook for Travellers in Northern and Central Japan”. The font is heavy, the lines are short, but the sentences naturally flow one after another, and it is very easy to read. In the chapter titled “From Nachi Falls to Yoshino”, Mr. Satow descended from his lodge in Odaigahara, and headed north with the flow of the Yoshino River.
After passing through a some azalea trees and walking for a few hours, Mr. Satow reached Obagatani. “Descending at last with great rapidity to the bed of a stream, the path ascends again about 500 feet in 25 min. to the small hamlet of Obagatani (2,400 feet), picturesquely situated under a huge wall of rock half way up the side of the densely wooded valley.” They walked from Obagatani, passed through Osako, and arrived in Kashiwagi. Mr. Satow found a guide at an inn in Kashiwagi, and had them show him the four limestone caves. After the Kiku-no-iwaya cave, they entered the Fudo-no-iwaya. “The Fudo-no-iwaya is finer; it consists of three vaulted chambers, adorned with many curiously formed stalactites, and contains a cascade. The passages between the chambers are very low in the roof. En-no-Shokaku is said to have lived in it.” After Kashiwagi, Mr. Satow crossed the Yoshino River to a hamlet called Wada, and entered the Suisho-no-iwaya cave. The path continued north from Wada, crossed the Yoshino River once more, and passed through Shimotako and Ido, nestled in the mountains. When they arrived at Hitoji, the valley opened wide, and they could see the beautiful hamlet of Shitaya across the river. With it having been a sunny day, it seems like it would have been a very nice walk. It was this last line that left the biggest impression on me. “The path then descends, and continues generally on the level close by the riverside, at the bottom of a narrow valley past Sako (1,230 feet), where there is an ancient Shinto temple called Niu-no-Kawakami, and past Terawo to Otaki, a busy little village situated opposite some very steep rapids, down which it is pleasant to see the timber rafts shooting, skillfully guided by a couple men, who seem for a moment to disappear beneath the foaming waters as they slide down into the lower reach of the stream.”
1879 was 141 years ago, just before Kawakami became a village. The views ikada rafts and the Yoshino River without a dam are of course different than our current village, I get the impression that the wooded mountains and mysterious caves haven’t changed all that much. Reading so many names of hamlets I recognize, like Kashiwagi or Ido, it’s fun to imagine Mr. Satow leaving his footprints all across this village.

思い出と料理 Cooking and Memories

絵：小川こころ　Art by OGAWA COCORO

　４年前から、僕はしばしばとても面白い質問を聞かれている。今でも、週に一回程度聞かれる。「エリック、ご飯、どないしとる？」と相手は純粋な好奇心と心配をもって聞く。質問の原因は僕が一人暮らしをしていることだろう。川魚が自然にミミズを食べると同じように、僕も自分の食べたいものを食べるだけだ。川上村に食べられるものがあるかって？それが結構あるんだよ。
　まず、白ご飯を多めに炊いておき、おにぎりをラップして冷凍しておいたら、いつでも解凍して食べられる。僕は朝からしっかり食べるのが好きで、去年から豚汁にハマっている。僕は去年まで上多古のどんど焼きで豚汁を美味しくいただいたが、食べたい時に食べられるように自分で作りたくなった。最初の試行錯誤があったけど、僕はだんだん手順に慣れて、一回に数食の分を作るようになった。白ご飯、豚汁、近所の人に教えてもらったたくあん漬けだけで、手間がそれほどかからない朝ごはんが出来上がる。
　僕は季節の野菜をたっぷり入れて、簡単なカレーをよく昼ご飯にする。やまいき市で買った人参やジャガイモや玉ねぎを出し、番号シールを見たら、「あー、〇〇さんの作物だ」と生産者のことを思い出す。気分転換がてら、僕は「アラビアータ」というパスタを作る時もある。このにんにく、唐辛子、オリーブオイルから始まるトマトソースは、昔のアルバイト先の店長に教えていただいたレシピだ。なんだか疲れた夜、僕は料理をあきらめて、缶詰の「メキシカン・ビーンズ」やインスタントの「マカロニ・アンド・チーズ」にする。どちらも子供のころから食べたもので、すぐ作れる。
　嗅覚と味覚が他の五感より人の記憶とつながっていると言われる。僕はたしかにそう感じる。自宅で一人で料理をしながら、過去のいろんな思い出がよみがえってくる。どんど焼きの風景、やまいき市の生産者の顔、アルバイト先の店長。新型コロナウイルスが流行っている間、人と集まったり、人に会いに行ったりするのができなくても、自宅で思い出の料理をするのことによって、少し落ち着く。ロサンゼルスでも川上村でも、美味しい料理を食べただけではなく、優しい人にもたくさん会えて、本当に感謝している。

For the last four years, I’ve been asked an interesting question pretty often. Even now, I’m asked about once a week. “So Eric, what do you do for food?,” someone might ask, with an innocent curiosity and worry. The question probably stems from the fact that I live on my own. Just like how a fish in the river naturally eats the worm, I too just eat what I want to eat. So is there anything for me to eat in Kawakami Village? Yup, there’s plenty.
First, if I cook a large pot of white rice, wrap it into onigiri rice balls and freeze them, I can thaw them whenever and eat them. I like a hearty breakfast, and I’ve been really hooked on pork miso soup since last year. Until last year, the pork miso soup was just something I enjoyed at the dondoyaki in Kodako, but I wanted to try making it myself so I can have it whenever I want it. There was some trial-and-error at first, but I gradually got the steps down, and came to make enough for multiple meals at once. With white rice, pork miso soup, and the takuan pickles I learned from my neighbors, a relatively easy breakfast is complete.
For lunch, I often make a curry loaded with seasonal vegetables. When I take out the carrots, potatoes, and onions from Yamaiki-ichi, I’ll see the number sticker and say, “Oh, it’s ~~’s produce,” recalling the grower. For a change of pace, I sometimes make an arrabbiata pasta. This tomato sauce that starts from garlic, red peppers, and olive oil is a recipe I learned from the owner at a place I used to work part-time at. On tired evenings, I might just give up on cooking and go for a can of Mexican beans or instant macaroni and cheese. Those are both things I ate when I was a child and can make right away.
It’s said that smell and taste are the senses most closely tied to memory. I certainly feel that. When I’m cooking on my own at home, all of these memories of the past come flooding back. The atmosphere of the dondoyaki, the faces of the Yamaiki-ichi growers, the owner of the restaurant I worked at. Even if we can’t gather or go see people while COVID-19 is going around, it is somewhat calming to cook things full of memories at home. Whether in Los Angeles or Kawakami Village, I am very grateful to have not just eaten delicious food, but to have met many nice people along the way.

木に囲まれた神社 A Shrine Surrounded by Trees

木に囲まれた神社

　上多古の一番奥にある階段を登る時、最初に小さな竹林を通った。2月上旬の朝に階段の段と石垣に生えてきた苔が鮮やかで生き生きしていた。階段の半分ほどを登ったら、柚子の木の近くの台で休憩をしながら、上多古地区とゆっくり流れる川を見下ろした。
　長い階段の上の近くに、まるで僕を歓迎していたように、梅の花はピンク色を見せびらかしていた。大年神社の境内まで登ったら、倉庫の裏にもう一本の白い梅の花はこっそり咲いていた。境内の石垣の上から杉林が大きく広がった。その林から境内に落ちた葉っぱは、新鮮な緑、濃い茶色、白に近い淡い茶色の自然な色彩を見せてくれた。本殿の近くに上多古の一人はすでに数え切れない杉の落ち葉を手で拾っていた。僕は本殿の前に参拝してから、おばちゃんと同じようにしゃがんで、杉の落ち葉を集めた。神社を掃除するメンバーは次々境内に着いた。「あー、ごめん、布団でゆっくりしとったわ！」と一人は告白して、みんなを笑わせた。僕らは竹箒を倉庫から出し、境内を分担した。落ち葉を何回も両手で錆色のドラム缶まで運び、中に放り込んだ。大きな松の木は本殿の横から斜めにそびえ立っていた。その木の細い針葉は本殿の石の間に落ち、掴みにくかった。一緒に掃除していた一人はその松の木について教えてくれた。彼は子供のころ、この土地がまだお寺の境内であった時、この松の木をよく登った。当時、登れるほど木が大きかったため、もう百年に近いと思われる。
　神社を掃除する時間はいつもしんとした感覚で流れる。落ち葉を拾っては運び、拾っては運びの作業を黙々としながら、朝の空気がさらに静かになり、自分の思いも静かになる。しかも、健康的な汗をかく。神社の掃除が終わったら、僕らはお茶とお菓子をいただきながら、立ち話をする習慣もある。そのため、自分の心とつながる時間でありながら、近所の人にも会って、社交的な要素もある。杉の落ち葉、梅の花、百年生の松の木は季節の移り変わりや時間の経過をささやいてくれても、この二時間があっという間に過ぎてしまう。

A Shrine Surrounded by Trees

When I climbed up the steps in the deepest part of Kodako, I first passed a small bamboo grove. The moss that had grown on the steps and the stone wall was vibrant and alive on this early February morning. Climbing nearly halfway up the steps, I took a break on a flat near a yuzu tree and looked down onto the Kodako ward and slow-flowing river.
Near the top of the steps, plum flowers had their pink color on full display, as if they were welcoming me. Climbing up to the Otoshi Shrine grounds, another tree of white plum flowers behind the storage building was quietly in bloom. From the top of the shrine’s stone wall spread a vast cedar forest. The leaves that fell from that forest onto these grounds showed me their natural shades of fresh green, deep brown, and a faded brown that was nearly white. Near the main shrine, a resident of Kodako was already picking up the countless fallen cedar leaves by hand. After saying a prayer at the main shrine, I squatted down and started gathering the fallen cedar leaves just like the older woman. Other shrine cleaning members arrived on the grounds one after another. “Ahh, sorry about that, I was relaxing in my futon!,” one admitted, eliciting a laugh from everyone. We took the bamboo brooms out of the storage room and divided up the grounds. Over and over again, we used both hands to carry the fallen leaves to the rust-colored drum can. A large pine tree grew tall and slanted from the side of the main shrine. The fine needles from that tree fell into the spaces between the shrine stones, and were difficult to get a grab. Someone who was cleaning with us told me about this pine tree. He said that he often climbed up this tree when he was a child, and these were still grounds of a temple. Since the tree was big enough to climb at the time, it must be near 100 years-old.
The time we spend cleaning the shrine always flows in a still way. Silently picking up and carrying the fallen leaves over and over again, the air becomes even more quiet, so do my thoughts. Plus, I break a healthy sweat. When the shrine cleaning is finished, we have a custom of standing and chatting over tea and snacks. So while this is a time to re-connect with ourselves, meeting our neighbors also adds a social element to it. Even if the fallen cedar leaves, the plum blossoms, and the 100-year-old pine tree whisper to us about the changing of the seasons or the passage of time, these two hours seem to go by before we know it.

小さな村の歌 A Little Village Song

小さな村の歌

　三年前から、『川上小唄』を聞くたびに、僕はお腹が空いてしまう。なぜかというと、かわかみらいふの移動スーパーである「らいふ号」は、「今週も来たよ〜」と言わんばかりに、この賑やかな歌をスピーカーから村の谷々や青空へ流しておく。味のある歌声はお客さんを呼び、シャン・シャン・シャンと掛け声の「アリヤセ」がお祭りの匂いを地区の空気に吹き込む。お客さんはそれぞれの家から出て、お買い物に行く。僕のお腹が自然に格子せんべいとボンタンアメを切望してしまう。
　吉野杉の山々や南朝の歴史を歌う『川上小唄』は、地元の人ではなく、野口雨情という全国的に有名な作詞家に書かれた。茨城県茨城市にある野口雨情記念館によると、昭和十二年二月に野口さんは奈良県川上村から手紙を出したらしい。彼が『川上小唄』をいつ書いたかは記録していないが、その近年だと思われる。筏乗りさんや草の蛍やカジカガエルを描写する歌詞を聴きながら、当時の香りと音が漂ってくる。「泊まりや帰りがいやになる」のような歌詞からすると、もしかして「雨情」という名前を持った野口さんは、この多雨地帯に親近感があったかもしれない。いずれにせよ、数十年が経っても、彼の作った歌が川上のみなさんの心で響き続けている。
　「多分、村民さんの一番馴染んでいる歌ですね」とかわかみらいふ理事長である春増公文さんは言った。昔から、川上村で多くの人は大会やお祭りで『川上小唄』に合わせた踊りをした。「懐かしいわ、あれ踊ったな！」と近所の人は素敵な笑顔で思い出した。この思い出の歌は町の大型スーパーが提供できない親しみと馴染みを村民さんに届けている。顔や注文を覚えてくれるスタッフと合わせて、本当に心が温まる数分だ。僕は春増理事長と話した時、彼の言葉からその温かさを感じとった。「百年後の川上村でも、かわかみらいふとこの歌がこだまするようにしたいです」と彼は付け加えた。広い宇宙に奈良県川上村が一つしかなくて、『川上小唄』が村の歌だ。
　らいふ号のスタッフは食品を片付けて、次の販売所に向かい、またスピーカーから『川上小唄』を流す。そのスピーカーは昔からの思い出を受け継ぎながら、僕のような移住者のために新たな思い出も作ってくれている。それらの思い出は次の谷でこだましているのだろう。

A Little Village Song

For the last three years, I have been getting hungry every time I hear the Little Song of Kawakami. The reason why is that the Life Truck, the name of Kawakami Life’s mobile grocery store, always plays this lively song from it speaker into the valleys and blue skies of our village, as if to say, “We’re back again this week!” The singer’s flavorful voice calls all of the customers, and the shan-shan-shan and ariyase call and response blow the smell of a festival into the local air. The customers all come out of their houses to go shopping. My stomach naturally starts to crave koushi-senbei crackers and chewy bontan candy.
Though it sings of the mountains of Yoshino cedar and the history of the Southern Court, the Little Song of Kawakami was not written by a local person, but by the nationally famous lyricist, Noguchi Ujo. According to the Noguchi Ujo Memorial Hall, Mr. Noguchi apparently sent a letter from Kawakami in 1937. When he actually wrote the Little Song of Kawakami is not recorded, but it is assumed to be sometime around then. Listening to these lyrics that describe ikada raft riders, fireflies in grass, and kajika frogs, the scents and sounds of that period come drifting by. Based on lyrics like, “Staying makes you hate to go home,”, perhaps a man whose first name means “rain” and “mercy” felt an affinity with our village. Either way, even after many years passed, his song continued to reverberate in the hearts of everyone in Kawakami.
“It’s probably the song our villagers are most familiar with,” said Takafumi Harumashi, chief director of Kawakami Life. Since a long time, many people in Kawakami Village would dance to the Little Song of Kawakami at festivals or dance competitions. “That brings back memories, we danced to that!,” one of my neighbors recalled with a beautiful smile. This song full of memories brings a closeness and familiarity that the large grocery store in town cannot provide. Add that to the staff that remember your face and your order, and these few minutes really warm my heart. When I spoke with Mr. Harumashi, I felt that warmth from his words. “Even a hundred years from now, I hope people can still hear the echo of Kawakami Life and this song,” he added. In this wide universe, there is only one Kawakami Village, Nara, and its song is the Little Song of Kawakami.
The staff of the Life Truck packs up its products, head to their next stop, and once again start playing the Little Song of Kawakami from their speaker. This speaker carries many memories from a long time ago, while also creating new ones for new residents like myself. Those memories are surely echoing in the next valley.

木と言葉と人の喜び Wood, Words, and the Joy of Others

木と言葉と人の喜び

　作品を完成するために、土井一成先生は作品の言葉を４回書かないといけない。彼は最初に筆を使い、紙の上に字を書く。その次、その紙を木の一枚に貼り、書いた字を木になぞる。木に移した字をチェーンソーや刃物で掘ってから、最後にもう一度筆を出し、掘った字に色を加える。白い紙で書くだけであれば、土井先生は文字を１回書いたら終わる。彼は木の基盤を使っているからこそ、その作品に立体的な深みを入れられる。しかも、基盤の木目に合わせて言葉を選ぶ。例えば、年輪の細かくて、均一な吉野杉の基盤だと、お互いを永遠に支え合う冬目と夏目の上に「相思相愛」を書いた。また、同じような基盤に「温故知新」を書くことによって、吉野林業の歴史を囁いた。色の温かい板目の上に「夢」を情熱的な赤で。潮が引いているような年輪の上に、「花鳥風月」を鮮やかな緑で。土井先生の作品は様々な言葉を使うが、その中の１つが彼にとって特に大事だ。「『人の喜びは自分の喜び』、あれが好きやな」と彼はいつもの大きな笑顔で言ってくれた。

　今年、土井先生は川上村の木工作家に声をかけ、先月の「秋の芸術祭イン川上村」の木工作家展を企画した。合計１１人の作家さんは自分たちの作品を同じ場所で展示することによって、「木」の幅広い可能性が見えた。吉野杉の抗菌作用を活かす食パンの箱や、撫でて癒される「癒しのリンゴ」。屋根の柿（ルビ：こけら）や、折り紙の材料、吉野杉と檜の新たな使い方を見せてくれた作品が多かった。杉の綺麗な年輪とは対照的に、広葉樹の自然な木目や、木の節を特徴として使った作品もあった。来場者はそれぞれの作品をゆっくり見て、現地にいた作家さんと話し合った。

　木と言葉を合わせる土井先生。彼を含めて、多くの作家さんは「木の良さ」を伝えくて、木工を始めた。その良さを伝えるために、自分の作品を見せる必要があるが、一人でやることより、他の作家さんと一緒に展示した方が迫力がある。「木」の可能性だけではなく、それぞれの個性も見えてきた。それで、来場者も作家さんも喜んだと思う。土井先生が自分でこんな言い方をしなかったけど、この木工作家展も「人の喜び」になった、と僕は思う。

Wood, Words, and the Joy of Others

In order to complete one of his works, Issei Doi has to write the words of his work four times. He first uses an ink brush and writes his characters on paper. He next attaches that paper to a sheet of wood, and traces the characters onto it. After carving the characters into the wood with a chainsaw or blade, he finally brings out his ink brush once more, and adds some color to the carved characters. If he was only writing on a white sheet of paper, Mr. Doi could write these characters once and be finished. It is because he is using a wooden substrate that he is able to put a three-dimensional depth into his work. On top of that, he also chooses his words so they relate with the wooden substrate. For example, for a Yoshino cedar substrate with fine, uniform year rings, atop the summer and winter grains that seem to eternally support one another, he wrote words that mean for “two to be in love”. Also, on a similar substrate, by writing words that mean “learning something new by studying the old”, he seems to whisper of the history of Yoshino cedar. On a warm-colored, flat sawn sheet of wood, there was “dream” in a passionate red. Over year rings that looked like a tide ebbing and flowing, there was “the beauties of nature” in a vibrant green. Mr. Doi’s works use a variety of words, but one of those is especially important for him. “‘The joy of others is also your own’, I really like that one,” he said, with his usual big smile.

This year he got in touch with other woodworking artists in Kawakami Village, and planned the woodworking artist exhibit at last month’s “Autumn Art Festival in Kawakami Village”. By having a total of 11 artists show their work in the same place, we were able to see the wide possibilities of “wood”. The bread box that makes use of Yoshino cedar’s anti-bacterial effect, or the Healing Apple that people can rub to feel better. Like the kokera shingles or the origami paper, there were many works that showed us new uses of Yoshino cedar and cypress. In contrast to the beautiful year rings of cedar, there were works that made the most of the natural grain of broad-leaved trees or used knots as a feature. Visitors were able to take a close look at each work, and speak with the artists themselves on-site.

Mr. Doi, bringing together wood and words. Many artists, including him, started woodworking because they wanted to convey how great wood is. In order to convey that, they need to show their work somewhere, but rather than doing so by themselves, they have a lot more impact displaying with other artists. It wasn’t just the possibilities of wood that we were able to see, but also the individuality of each artist and work. I feel like that brought some joy to both the visitors and the artists. Mr. Doi didn’t say it himself this way, but I feel like this woodworking artist exhibit was also a “joy for others” in that way.

川上を示す生き物 A Creature That Expresses Kawakami

川上を示す生き物

　木の陰で隠れた、長い石畳の階段があきつの小野スポーツ公園から、蜻蛉（ルビ：せいれい）の滝を超えて、山の上へ続く。先月、森と水の源流館の古山暁さんはこの階段を登っていた時、目が枯れた枝に止まった。「オレンジ色が見えて、最初にゴミかなと思ったけど」と古山さんは言った。彼はその枝に近づき、その枝に付いたのがゴミではなく、死んだトンボだと分かった。彼の目を止めた鮮やかなオレンジ色のものは、トンボから生えたキノコだった。

　そのキノコは昆虫などに寄生する「冬虫夏草」という一種だ。冬は虫、夏は草の姿になるという意味だ。「冬虫夏草」は虫に寄生して、体内の栄養を奪う。虫が死んだ後に、キノコとして体から生えてきて、成長する。古山さんの見つけた冬虫夏草は「ミルンヤンマ」というトンボに寄生するので、「ヤンマタケ」と呼ばれるものだ。

　「ちょっと気持ち悪いかもしれないけど、見せてあげようか」と古山さんは明るく言って、僕を森と水の源流館のロビーから右へ案内してくれた。ガラスの下に６センチほどのトンボが見えた。かつてオレンジ色であった「ヤンマタケ」のキノコは淡い灰色に変わり、トンボの頭から尾まで生えた。トンボ１匹の下に、カメムシ５匹が並べてあった。それぞれのカメムシから、細長いキノコが綺麗に伸びて生えた。そのキノコはカメムシに寄生するので、「カメムシタケ」という一種だ。

　古山さんはこのトンボを見つけたが、ただのトンボより大きなことも見えた。ミルンヤンマは川上村にある細い沢に住む。そのトンボに寄生するキノコは、そういう湿ったところを好む。「ここの川上村の谷は湿った環境で、綺麗な水がずっと流れている環境を示す生き物として使うことができる」と古山さんは生き生きしながら説明してくれた。「ということで、川上村はものすごい自然豊かだと分かる」。また、このトンボを森と水の源流館のロビーで展示するのは、古山さんにとって、「タネ」をばらまくことだ。「この話をして、トンボに興味を持ってくれる人がいるかもしれない。キノコ好きになる人がいるかもしれない。こういう自然を守りたいと思ってくれる人がいるかもしれない」と。

　僕はヤンマタケを見ながら、蜻蛉（ルビ：せいれい）の滝の伝説を思い出した。雄略天皇をアブから助けたトンボの話だ。千五百年を超える歴史があっという間に近くに感じた。

　森と水の源流館は１１月３０日までこのヤンマタケとカメムシタケを無料のロビーで展示しているので、ぜひ気楽に見に行ってください。玄関の大きなナガレヒキガエルへの挨拶を忘れないでね。

A Creature That Expresses Kawakami

Hidden in the shade of trees, a long set of stone steps continues from Akitsu-no-ono Sports Park, past Seirei-no-taki Waterfall, and up into the mountains. Last month, when Akira Koyama of the MoritoMizuno Genryukan (Forest and Water Source Museum) was climbing these steps, his eyes caught something on a withered branch. “I saw something orange, and thought it was a piece of trash at first,” he said. As he moved closer to the branch, he realized what was stuck to it was not a piece of garbage, but a dead dragonfly. The bright orange that had caught his eye were mushrooms growing from the dragonfly.

Those mushrooms were “tochu-kaso”, or yartsa gunbu, a kind of fungus that acts as a parasite inside insects. The Chinese name describes it as an insect in the winter, and grass in the summer. This “tochu-kaso” lives inside an insect and steals its nutrients. After the insect dies, it grows up and out of the body as a mushroom. The “tochu-kaso” that Mr. Koyama found was a parasite that lives in a dragonfly called “mirun-yanma” (planaeschna milnei), so its mushroom is called “yanma mushroom”.

“It’s a little creepy, but do you want to see it?” Mr. Koyama said cheerfully as he lead me to the right of the lobby at the MoritoMizuno Genryukan. Underneath the glass was a dragonfly about six centimeters long. The once orange yanma mushrooms had changed to a light grey, and had grown from head to tail on the dragonfly. Below the one dragonfly were five shield bugs, A long, single mushroom sprouted straight out from each shield bug. Since these mushrooms use a shield bug as host, they are called “shield bug mushrooms”.

Mr. Koyama may have found this dragonfly, but he saw in it more than just a dragonfly. The mirun-yanma dragonfly lives in the narrow streams of Kawakami Village. The mushroom that attached itself to the dragonfly likes to live in that kind of a wet area. “So we can use this as a creature that expresses the environment of Kawakami Village, with our wet valleys that have always had clean water flowing through,” he excitedly explained. “It shows the abundance of nature in Kawakami Village.” In addition, displaying this dragonfly in the lobby of the MoritoMizuno Genryukan is, for Mr. Koyama, a way of sowing “seeds”. “Someone might hear this and become interested in dragonflies. Or they might start to like mushrooms. Or they might feel like they need to protect this kind of nature,” he said.

As I looked at the yanma mushrooms, I recalled the legend of Seirei-no-taki Waterfall. It’s the story of a dragonfly that saved Emperor Yuryaku from a horsefly. That 1,500 year history all of a sudden felt very close.

The MoritoMizuno Genryukan is displaying the yanma mushrooms and shield bug mushrooms for free in the lobby until Nov. 30, so feel free to go see it. Don’t forget to say hello to the large Japanese stream toad in the lobby.

黄色い縞を探す Searching for the Yellow Stripe

(Please scroll down for the English version.)

黄色い縞を探す

　鮎釣り教室で最初に教えてもらったのは、天然鮎と養殖鮎の見分け方だった。「天然鮎はこの辺が黄色やで」とおじさんは胸ヒレの近くの黄色い縞を指した。とても爽やかな色彩だった。教室の参加者は中奥川沿いの駐車場で集合した。僕らは長靴とズボンとサスペンダーの組み合わせである胴長（ウェーダー）を履き、竿とタモ網と友舟を漁業組合から借りた。

　僕は先生と一緒に歩きながら、目の下で流れる中奥川をよく見た。「鮎がいる川というのは、ピカッと光っとるねん」と彼は言った。僕らは川の大きな石まで下り、道具を準備した。先生は友舟から鮎１匹を出し、ハリの付け方を見せてくれた。オトリ鮎の鼻と背と尻ヒレにハリを付けた。糸の最後に、３本束ねたイカリのような「掛バリ」がまだ残っていた。ナワバリ意識の高まった天然鮎は、オトリ鮎を見て闘争にきたら、この掛バリに引っかかる。この釣り方は「友釣り」と呼ばれているが、僕は鮎同士の友情をあまり感じない。

　僕は膝まで川に入り、長い竿を両手で持ちながら、先生の指導を受けた。おとり鮎をちゃんと泳がせるために、竿と糸の角度を水平に近くした。次の２時間で鮎釣りの「山あり谷あり」を経験した。早速アタリが出たが、逃げてしまったみたい。竿の感覚でまたアタリが出たと思った時、自分の掛バリに引っかかったオトリ鮎だけだった。こういう曲がりくねった姿になった鮎を「エビ」と呼ぶって。そのうち、黄色い縞のある天然鮎を何匹も釣れた。元気な天然鮎を疲れたオトリ鮎と入れ替えた。天然のオトリ鮎は流れのきついところで頑張って泳いでくれた。「養殖のオトリはああいうところでよう上れへん。天然やから、違う。食べても違うね」と先生は笑った。

　この鮎釣り教室は海の日に全国豊かな海づくり大会、奈良県と川上村の漁業組合に開催された。川の水が海まで流れるから、豊かな海をつくることは山から始まる。また、綺麗な川で苔を食べる天然鮎は育ち、生き生きした黄色い縞を見せてくれる。今まで中奥川が大切にされたおかげで、僕は鮎釣りの楽しさ、天然鮎のうまさを知る機会があった。その夜、釣れた鮎に塩をかけて炙り、友達と一緒に食べた。

Searching for the Yellow Stripe

The first thing I was taught in the ayu fishing class was how to distinguish wild ayu from raised ayu. “This part of wild ayu is yellow, ya’know,” the old man said as he pointed at a yellow stripe near the pectoral fin. It was a very fresh shade of yellow. Participants in the class gathered at a parking lot along the Nakaoku River. We stepped into our boots-pants-suspenders combination known as “waders”, and each borrowed a rod, scoop net, and fish carrier from the fisherman’s cooperative.

While I was walking with my teacher, I looked down at the Nakaoku River flowing below us. “Rivers with ayu in them, it’s like they’re just glistening,” he said. We climbed down to the large rocks on the river and set up our equipment. My teacher grabbed one ayu from the fish carrier and showed me how to attach the hooks. He attached hooks to the nose, back, and anal fin of the otori-ayu. At the end of the line was the kakebari hook, which looked like three anchors bound together. When the territorial wild ayu see and attack the otori-ayu, they are caught on the kakebari hook. This method of fishing is called tomotsuri, or “friend fishing”, but I don’t sense a whole lot of friendship between the ayu fish.

I walked into the river up to my knees, held the long rod with both hands, and followed my teacher’s directions. In order to let the otori-ayu swim properly, I held the rod and line at nearly a horizontal angle. Over the next two hours, we experienced the “mountains and valleys” of ayu fishing. We caught one right off the bat, but apparently it got away. When the rod felt like I had caught another one, it was just the otori-ayu caught on its own kakebari hook. When ayu are in this kind of twisted pose, they are called “shrimp”. In time, we also caught a few wild ayu with yellow stripes. We replaced the tired otori-ayu with an energetic wild ayu. Now, the wild otori-ayu swam vigorously through the rough currents. “A raised ayu wouldn’t be able to swim in those waters. The wild ones are different though. They’re different when you eat’em, too,” my teacher laughed.

This ayu fishing class was held on Marine Day by the National Rich Ocean Creation Congress, and the fisherman’s cooperatives of Nara Prefecture and Kawakami Village. Since the river’s water flows to the ocean, creating a rich ocean begins in the mountains. Also, the wild ayu who eat moss in these clean rivers grow up and show us their lively yellow stripes. Thanks to the Nakaoku River having been taken care of up to now, I had the opportunity to know both the joy of ayu fishing and the delicious taste of wild ayu. That night, I sprinkled some salt on the ayu I caught, broiled them, and enjoyed them with my friends.

土と手根部 Dirt and the Heel of a Hand

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土と手根部

　６月上旬の平日の夕方に匠の聚の陶芸体験工房に下った。大きな窓越しに山々の夕焼けが見えた。その窓沿いに何台かの電動ろくろと木のスチュールが並んであった。工房の反対側の大きなテーブルに手回しろくろが何個も用意された。僕は抽選の結果でそのテーブルの手回しろくろで作業を始めた。

　今夜は匠の聚の「夏の陶器」教室の１回目だった。他の１３名の参加者と一緒に、合計４回の陶芸教室に参加した。僕らは鈴木智子先生の作った石膏型を一人ずつ選び、自分の手回しろくろに設置した。僕はカレーのための食器を作りたくて、長くて深みのある型を選んだ。板状粘土を石膏型の上に乗せて、手根部で粘土を型に合わせて押した。この静かな作業を続けながら、テーブルを囲んだ参加者の間、雑談が自然に始まり、流動的に進んだ。みなさんは自分のペースで自分の作りたいものに形を与えた。最後に、傷や気になったところを濡れた「なめし皮」で仕上げた。２回目の教室にその食器に色を塗った。

　「夏の陶器」の３回目に、手回しろくろから電動ろくろに移った。まず、電動ろくろの真ん中に粘土をどんと投げつけた。両手を濡らし、手根部と小指の間のL型を使いながら、くるくる回る土をちょっとずつ持ち上げた。そして、右の親指で土のてっぺんを覆い、倒すように土を向こうへ押した。「それを何回も何回も練習してください！」と山本喜一先生は応援で言ってくれた。僕はラーメン鉢を狙い、粘土の真ん中に親指を両方差し込んだ。親指が凹みを作り、土を食器のような形にした。

　結局、４回目の仕上げ作業をしていた時、ラーメン鉢が電動ろくろから落ちて、大きな傷がついた。鈴木雄一郎先生は筆を取り、手際よく「ドベ」の土をラーメン鉢の傷に塗った。「土の硬さが違うから、焼く時に割れてしまうかもしれません」と彼は説明してくれた。それは仕方がないと思い、ラーメン鉢の運命を窯に任せるしかない。

　「夏の陶器」で土と再びつなぐことができた。石膏型にくっ付いた土、電動ろくろで永遠に回りそうな土。土を触ることは人間性の深いところとつながっているような気がする。少なくとも、この何万年前から続いてきた作業は、毎回僕にスマホを忘れさせる数時間をくれた。その時間の結果である食器を、これから日常生活で使いながら、あの土の感覚を嬉しく思い出す。

Dirt and the Heel of a Hand

On a weekday evening in early June, I stepped down into the pottery experience workshop at Takumi-no-mura. We could see the sunset over nearby mountains through the large windows. Lined up along those windows were numerous electric pottery wheels and wooden stools. On the other side of the room was a large table prepared with a number of manual pottery wheels. As the result of a lottery, I began my work with a manual wheel at that table.

Tonight was the first night of the “Summer Pottery” classes at Takumi-no-mura. The other thirteen members and I participated in a total of four pottery classes. We each chose a plaster mold made by Satoko Suzuki-sensei, and set it onto our manual wheels. I wanted to make a dish for curry, and chose one that was long with depth. I placed a board-shaped piece of clay over the plaster mold and pressed it with the heel of my hand, shaping it to the mold. While continuing this quiet work, participants around the table naturally began a conversation that just flowed along. Everyone gave shape to what they wanted to make at their own pace. Finally, we finished off any scratches or points of concern with a wet leather nameshigawa. At the second lesson, we painted color onto these dishes.

For the third Summer Pottery class, we moved from the manual to the electric pottery wheel. First, we heaved a big lump of clay onto the center of the wheel. I wet both hands, and using the L-shape between the heel of my hand and my pinky, I brought the spinning dirt up little by little. Then, covering the top of the mound with my right thumb, I pushed the dirt away from me as if knocking it down. “Practice that over and over again!” Kiichi Yamamoto-sensei said in support. Aiming to make a ramen bowl, I plunged both of my thumbs into the center of the clay. My thumbs created a hollow, and turned the dirt into the shape of a dish.

Eventually, when I was finishing it during the fourth lesson, the ramen bowl fell from the electric wheel and suffered a large tear. Yuichiro Suzuki-sensei grabbed a brush and skillfully applied wet dobe dirt to the torn part of the bowl. “The dirt’s hardness will be different, so it might crack when we bake it,” he explained. I figured that couldn’t be helped, and all I could do is leave the ramen bowl’s fate to the oven.

I was able to reconnect with dirt through the Summer Pottery classes. The dirt stuck still on the plaster mold, the seemingly infinitely spinning dirt on the electric wheel. Touching dirt seems like it is connected with a deep part of being human. At the very least, this work that has continued for tens of thousands of years always allowed me to forget about my smart phone for a few hours. The results of that time are the dishes, which I will use in my day-to-day life while I happily recall the feeling of dirt.

屋根の下にあるもの Things Below the Roof

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屋根の下にあるもの

棰木。通柱。鼻隠し。それらを含めて、住宅の図面にはおよそ３８個の部材が載っていた。白黒のA3紙に部材の細かいところが描いてある。川上さぷりの土井理事はコーヒーを杉のテーブルに置き、明るい表情で「もう、みんなを覚えた？」と僕に聞いた。

　１８年前に設立された川上さぷりは、吉野材の加工施設である。「それまでは、我々は山に行っていた」と土井理事は言った。「原木が売れなくなったから、なるべく付加価値をつけたかった。原木だけじゃなしに、木を製品にしたら、また還元できる」。最初、彼らは山の木について何でもを知っていたが、木材の加工が新たな分野だった。いくらの値段がいいか、木をどうやって乾燥すればいいかなどが分からなかったから、彼らはそれぞれのノウハウをだんだん身につけた。そのうち、迫から東川に移った川上さぷりは、最適な機械を整え、加工施設として運営するようになった。

　現在、川上さぷりは住宅に使う木材を加工することに集中している。白川渡と北和田にある村営住宅は最近の事例だ。一軒の住宅を建てるには、木材をたくさん使い、近くで育てられた木を活かす。しかし、川上さぷりの与えた付加価値はそこで終わらない。あのA3図面に載っているおよそ３８個の部材の組み合わせは、家の壁、戸、窓、屋根を支える。そこに住んでいるのは、新しくこの村に住まいを求めた人々だ。お祭りやクリーンキャンペーンに参加する人々、通りすがりの車に手を振って挨拶する人々だ。山で育てられた木はコミュニティーで活かされている。

　僕は土井理事に話しを聞くため、川上さぷりを少し見学させてもらった。僕は敷地に入ったとたん、木材の香りが漂い、大型エンジンや高速刃物の音が聞こえた。従業員は柱になりそうな分暑い木材をヤードの奥からフォークリフトで運んだ。もう一人は防音用イヤーマフを装着しながら、分暑くて長い木材をローリングコンベーヤに乗せて、切った。倉庫の天井に届きそうな細長い木材は何枚か壁にたけかけられていた。この木材は、かつて山で代々育てられた木だった。これからどこかのコミュニティーで生き続けるのだろう。

Things Below the Roof

Taruki. Toshibashira. Hanakakushi. Those are some of the 38 components shown on the residence blueprints. Specific details of the parts are drawn on the black and white A3 paper. Kawakami Supply’s director, Mr. Doi, set our coffees on the wooden table, and with a bright expression asked me, “So, have you memorized all of’em?”

Established 18 years ago, Kawakami Supply is a facility that processes Yoshino lumber. “Until then, we had all been working in the mountains,” Mr. Doi told me. “Wood wasn’t selling so well, so we wanted give it some added-value. By selling not just wood, but also wood products, we could help bring the industry back to where it was.” At first, they knew everything about trees on the mountain, but lumber processing was a new field. They did not know things like what prices would be appropriate or how to properly dry the wood, so they gradually acquired the know-how for every step in the process. In due time, Kawakami Supply moved from Sako to Unogawa, assembled the appropriate machinery, and began operating as a processing facility.

These days, Kawakami Supply is focused on processing lumber for housing. The village-owned residences in Shirakawado and Kitawada are two recent examples. Building a residence uses a lot of lumber, and makes use of trees grown nearby. However, the added-value brought by Kawakami Supply does not end there. The 38 parts on that A3 blueprint combine to hold up the walls, doors, windows, and roof of a house. Living there are people who wanted to try living in our village. People who participate in festivals and cleaning campaigns, or wave hello to cars driving by. The trees grown in nearby mountains are being put to good use in these communities.

After speaking with Mr. Doi, I took a look around Kawakami Supply. As soon as I entered the yard, there was the scent of lumber and sounds of large engines and high-speed saws. An employee used a forklift to carry some thick, pillar-like lumber from the back of the yard. Another wore noise-reducing ear muffs as he loaded long, thick lumber onto a rolling conveyor and cut it. Planks of lumber that looked like they could reach the roof of the warehouse leaned stacked against the wall. This lumber were all once trees grown over generations on the mountains. From now, they will continue living in a community somewhere.

心の拠り所 Where Your Heart Can Rely On

(Please scroll down for the English version.)

　寄席出囃子が流れてから、お寺に座った十五人の客は手前の女性から目を外さなかった。彼らの右に弥勒菩薩像は静かに立っていらっしゃい、左の縁側の下に波津地区が広がった。着物を着た女性は拍子木を見台に叩き、声を一瞬で上げ、荒い言葉を拭き捨てた。数秒後、落ち着いた口調と表情に戻った。彼女はそのやりとりを繰り返し、突然、みんなから笑いを誘った。左の縁側から涼しい風が吹いてきた。

　今年も波津のみなさんは、匠の聚のイベントに合わせ、地区の弥勒寺で「弥勒茶屋」を開催した。昔、近所の子供たちは弥勒寺まで登り、宿題などをしたと言われる。お寺が長い間使われなかったが、波津のみなさんは去年から一歩ずつ、それぞれのできることで弥勒寺を復活した。具体的な計画などを立てずに、自然に現在の形になったらしい。一人は弥勒寺の歴史を分かりやすくまとめ、小さな資料で配った。お花をしている先生は色とりどりの花でお寺を飾った。若手の夫婦は近所の野菜を使ったキッシュやアイスや飲み物を出した。波津の木工作家は料理のための器、お花のための一輪挿し、落語のための見台を作った。関西弁で落語を演技する女性は客にテレビやスマホより楽しくて、面白い二十分を提供した。表の人も、裏の人もみんなはこのお寺に心を込めている。

　大きな拍手の後、受け囃子が流れた。キッシュを食べ続けた客はいて、きんすを鳴らして参拝した客もいた。僕は座布団に座りながら歴史の資料をゆっくり読んだ。最後の段落に、次の文章が載っていた。「昔から弥勒寺・弥勒菩薩は住民の心の拠り所・集いの場となってきました。今も波津垣内の人々には『弥勒さん、弥勒さん』と親しまれ、見上げれば、今も昔も、弥勒さん！と慕われています」。

　それぞれのできることから始まった集い。人を笑わせる、食べさせる、美しい弥勒茶屋。波津の上からみなさんを見守る弥勒寺。これから住民の心の拠り所として賑やかになると思う。

Where Your Heart Can Rely On

After the jangly entrance music started playing, the fifteen guests sitting in the temple never took their eyes off of the woman in front of them. To their right, a statue of Miroku Bosatsu standing quietly, to their left, the Hazu district spread out from under the temple’s ledge. The kimono-clad woman struck the small table with wooden sticks, raised her voice in an instant, and began spitting out some harsh words. A few seconds later, she went back to her calm tone and character. She repeated the back and forth, and suddenly, elicited a laugh from everyone. A cool breeze blew in from the ledge on the left.

Once again this year, the people of Hazu co-ordinated with Takumi-no-mura and held the "Miroku Tea House” at the local Miroku Temple. It is said that a long time ago, local children would climb up to Miroku Temple and do their homework, etc. The temple had not been used for a long time, but last year the people of Hazu revived it step by step by just doing what they can. Without a specific plan or anything, it just naturally came to be as it is. One person summarized the history of Miroku Temple and passed out small leaflets. A teacher practicing flower arrangement decorated the temple with all kinds of colors. A young couple made ice cream, drinks, and quiche made from local vegetables. A woodworking artist living in Hazu made dishes for the food, vases for the flowers, and the table used in the rakugo performance. The woman performing rakugo in Kansai dialect offered guests a twenty minutes that was more fun and interesting than their television or smart phone. With people in the front and people in the back, everyone put their hearts into this temple.

A big applause, and then the jangly exit music. Their were guests who continued eating their quiche, and there were also guests who struck the kinsu and prayed. While sitting on my cushion, I slowly read about the history of the temple. The final paragraph had the following words. “From a long time ago, Miroku Temple and Miroku Bosatsu have been a reliable presence and a place to gather for residents. Even now people of Hazu feel close with “Miroku-san, Miroku-san”, and if we look up above, both now and a long time ago, we long to meet Miroku-san!”

A gathering started by people doing what they can. The Miroku Tea House, making people laugh and eat. Miroku Temple, watching over everyone from above Hazu. From now on, I think it will be very lively as a place people’s hearts can rely on.

ミミズを刺す、朝のアマゴ釣り Piercing the Worm, a Morning Fishing for Amago

(Please scroll down for the English version.)

ミミズを刺す、朝のアマゴ釣り

　ミミズを刺す、朝の県道258号線。僕らは軽ヴァンで中奥方面へ県道を走った。チゴロブチの近くにおじいちゃん一人はぽつんと椅子に座りながら、中奥川を見下ろしていた。そのあと、枌尾地区と中奥地区に人影がなかった。中奥より登りながら、県道が荒く、狭くなった。僕は助手席から中奥川の自然な綺麗さより、ガードレールのない道路と数十メートルの崖の方を見ていた。「誰もいないといいけど。」と友達は軽ヴァンをどんどん走らせながら何回も言った。しかし、道にあちこちにトラックが停めてあった。窓に釣り道具のステッカーが貼ってあった。僕らは昔人が住んでいた瀬戸地区を超え、さらに川の上流へ登った。

　手掘りトンネルを抜け、小さな橋の脇に軽ヴァンを停めた。友達３人と合流して、みんなは竿を伸ばし、長靴を履き替えた。僕は腿まで届く長靴を友達に借り、必要な道具をリュックで運んだ。５人で川の下流へ歩きながら、道路の端に近づかないように言われた。「魚はおれらを見たら、逃げてしまうから。」と友達は注告した。数分歩いてから、川へ降りる道を見つけた。転がりそうな石を踏みながら、僕は不安な足取りで急な斜面を降り、なんとなく河原に無事に着いた。

　竿から伸びた糸。糸に結ばれた針。針に刺されたミミズ。僕らは竿を大きく振り、ミミズと錘を川の上流へ投げた。ミミズは川の流れにゆっくり運ばれ、時々石に引っかかった。僕らはそれを繰り返しながら、源流へ一歩一歩登った。アマゴは警戒心が強くて、石の影で隠れたりしながら、とても綺麗な川でしか生きられないらしい。なんだか親近感を感じる人間もいるのだろう。友達は大きな岩の後ろで体を隠しながら、岩の上から糸を投げた。彼はいくつかの石の間に落ちたミミズをサングラス越しに見届けた。数秒後、糸のついたアマゴは空中でもがきながらくるくると回った。僕は友達と同じところからミミズを投げてみたが、何も釣れなかった。

　５人はそれぞれの場所を狙いながら、川を少しずつ登った。数回、僕は竿の位置と角度を忘れ、糸が木の低い枝に巻き込まれた。長靴のおかげで深いところを歩けたが、どうしても歩けなかったところまだあった。一歩一歩、岩から岩へうまく登れたが、思うどおりにいかなかった。大きくて、急な勾配をもった平らな岩を登ろうとしたら、手の掴めるところがなく、足の踏み場がなく、四つん這いになったまま、進めなくなった。お腹をなんとなく岩に付けようとしたが、それもうまくいかなくて、結局、川に見事に落ちてしまった。

　そのうち、僕らは車の近くに帰ってきた。友達は車から食パンと用意した材料を川の畔まで運んだ。みんなはガスカートリッジとカセットコンロを囲み、ホットサンドをどんどん焼いた。黙々と釣りをしたみんなは、サンドイッチを建てながら盛り上がり、興奮した。スマホの電波が届かない、山奥の渓流で焼きたてのホットサンドを食べる楽しさ。パンの上に具をたっぷり乗せても、お腹がぱんぱんになるまで頑張って食べても、材料がまだ残っていた。あの楽しい時間が永遠に続きそうだったが、雨色の雲に追われた。ゴミや何もを残さずに気をつけながら、持ってきたものを早速片付け、県道258号線を下った。

　白川渡で吉野川の本流へミミズを投げ、釣りをした。中奥川の透明な渓流と比べて、大滝ダム湖までゆっくり流れる吉野川は深くて、少し濁っていた。アマゴはいなかったけど、ものすごく大きな鯉、ウグイ何匹が見えた。僕らは最初に壁の上から川の深いところへ竿を振ってみた。友達は広い川の遠いところまでルアーを投げ、長い糸を手際よく巻き上げた。一人は小さくて、名前の知らない魚を釣った。僕らは川の浅いところに近い岩へ下り、川の上流へゆっくり登った。友達は大きなウグイ一匹を川から持ち上げた。何匹ものミミズは行方不明になった。壁と岩を行き来する数時間。

　雨色の雲が結局、約束を守らなくて、僕らは黄昏どきまで穏やかに釣りをした。夕飯の時間を知った魚の群れが次々に通り、何匹もは友達のミミズを召し上がった。友達はみんなのためのホットコーヒーを淹れ、おかあさんの作った苺大福を出した。手作りの苺大福が柔らかくて、甘かった。朝から夕方まで、僕は魚を一匹も釣れなかったから、「僕は釣りをした」となかなか言えない。「釣りの大半は、誰と釣りしているかだろう」というセリフを子供のころから覚えている。名前不明な、やすっぽいテレビ映画からだ。でも、今までも忘れられなかった。やっと意味が分かったような気がする。

Piercing the Worm, a Morning Fishing for Amago

Piercing the worm, the morning Pref. Rd 258. We drove our light vans up prefectural road toward Nakaoku. An old man sat by himself in a chair near Chigorobuchi, looking down onto the Nakaoku River. After him, there was no sign of anyone in the Sogio or Nakaoku districts. As we climbed past Nakaoku, the road turned rougher and narrower. Sitting in the passenger seat, I found myself looking at the guardrail-less road and dozens of meters of cliff, rather than the natural beauty of the Nakaoku River. “It’d be nice if there’s no one else there,” my friend said multiple times as he drove the light van farther and farther. However, there were trucks parked here and there along the way. There were fishing equipment stickers plastered on the windows. We passed the Seto district, where people once lived a long time ago, and climbed higher upstream along the river.

We went through the hand-dug tunnel and parked the light van beside a small bridge. We convened with our three friends, lengthened our rods, and changed into our long boots. I borrowed some thigh-high long boots from my friend and carried the necessary tools in my backpack. As the five of us walked downstream, we were told not to get too close to the edge of the road. “If the fish see us, they’ll all run away,” my friend warned us. After walking for a few minutes, we found a path that lead down to the river. Stepping on rocks that looked like they could crumble anytime, I took unsure steps down the steep slope and somehow made it to the river in one piece.

The line leading out from the rod. The worm pierced on the hook. We gave our rods a big swing and threw our worms and weights upstream into the river. The worm was carried slowly by the stream, and was sometimes caught on a rock. We repeated this, climbing our way step by step toward the source of the river. Apparently amago are a very frightful fish, hiding in the shadows of rocks, and are only able to live in very clean rivers. There are probably some humans who can somehow feel a kinship with them. My friend hid his body behind a large boulder while swinging his throwing his line over it. He watched through his sunglasses as his worm landed between a cluster of rocks. Seconds later, an amago attached stuck on a line writhed and twirled in the air. I tried throwing a worm from the same place as my friend, but couldn’t catch anything.

The five of us each took aim at our own spots while slowly climbing up the river. I forgot about the location and angle of my rod a few times, getting my line tangled up in the low branches of trees. I was able to walk through some deep spots thanks to my tall boots, but there were still some spots that I couldn’t quite get through. I climbed step by step, boulder to boulder, but things didn’t go exactly as planned. When I tried to climb a large, steep, flat boulder, there was nowhere for my hands to grip, nor for my feet to step, so I ended up flat on all fours and unable to move. I tried sticking my stomach to the boulder, but that didn’t work either, and I ended up falling beautifully into the river.

In due time, we ended up back near our cars. My friends carried loaves of bread and ingredients they’d prepared from the car down to the riverside. We all surrounded the flames of portable gas cartridges, and cooked hot sandwiches one after another. Having quietly fished, we were all now loud and excited as we built up these sandwiches. The joy of eating a fresh, hot sandwich along a mountain stream far away, where there isn’t any cell phone reception. Even after loading our bread with plenty of stuff, even after eating our hearts out until we were full, we still had ingredients left over. That fun time seemed like it could continue forever, but we were chased away by rain-colored clouds. As we were careful not to leave any trash or anything else, cleaned up everything we brought with us, and headed back down Pref. Rd. 258.

In Shirakawado we threw our worms and fished in the main current of the Yoshino River. Slowly flowing into the Otaki Dam Lake, the Yoshino River was deep and a little muddy in comparison with the clear streams of the Nakaoku River. There weren’t any amago, but we saw a very large carp and numerous Japanese dace. We first swung our rods from the top of a wall into the deep parts of the river. One friend threw his lure to the far side of the wide river, and quickly reeled in the long line. Another friend caught a fish whose name I didn’t know. We moved down to some boulders near a shallower part of the river, and then slowly made our way upstream. My friend pulled a large Japanese dace out from the water. Worms went missing in action. A few hours of going back and forth between the wall and the boulders.

The rain-colored clouds couldn’t keep their promise, and we were able to fish in peace until twilight. Schools of fish knew that it was dinner time, passing by us one after another, with many partaking in worms offered from my friends. One of my friends made hot coffee for everyone and brought out strawberry daifuku made by her mother. The homemade strawberry daifuku was soft and sweet. From morning to evening, I wasn’t able to catch a single fish, so I can’t really say I was “fishing”. "Most of fishing is about who you're fishing with," a line I remember from my childhood. It was from an unknown, cheap TV movie. But I haven't been able to forget it, even up to now. I feel like I finally understand what it means.

写真：田野雄大

写真：田野雄大

写真：田野雄大

写真：田野雄大

も・な・か Mo-na-ka

(Please scroll down for the English version.)

も・な・か

　冬の昼下がり、西河のアルボールに入った。外が寒かったから、僕はホットコーヒーを注文して、真ん中のテーブルに座った。ストーブの上に乗っていた餅が膨らみ、やかんからの湯気が正面の窓を曇らせた。太田さんはお冷とお菓子を運んできて、「これを知ってる？」と僕に聞いた。僕はラベルを見て、「あ、サイチュウですか」と答えた。キッチンでコーヒーを淹れていた中平さんは大きく笑った。カウンターで立っていた小林さんは微笑んで、僕に言った。「違う、違う。『も・な・か』ですよ、最仲」。常連さんも突っ込み、アルボールの３人と楽しくやりとりをした。やがてコーヒーが運ばれ、僕はそれをゆっくり啜りながら、周りの会話を楽しく聞いた。　

　この３年間、やまいき市の手伝いをしながら、アルボールがだんだん毎週の楽しみになった。朝市に買い物しに来る小林さんは、いつも経験者ならではの商売アドバイスを優しく、こっそり言ってくれる。太田さんは一言だけでみんなを笑わせ、朝市を盛り上げる。中平さんの明るさは周りの方々にも広がり、初対面でも人の笑顔を引き出す。昼の頃、その中の一人はアルボールの玄関から「お〜い！できたよ！」と呼ぶ。彼らのおかげで、僕と他のやまいき市のメンバーは暖かい昼ごはんを食べられただけではなく、笑いで溢れた土曜日も過ごせた。

　３月の下旬、アルボールは５周年を記念するために、お客さんにぜんざいを出していた。もともと１〜２年間だけお店をする予定だったが、めはり寿司からダムカレーまで様々なものを出しながら、あっという間に５年間になったらしい。アルボールは４月から６年目に入り、定休日を火・水曜日にしながら、一生懸命営業を続ける。僕もこれから教えてもらうことを楽しみにしている。この３年間でアルボールで習った「味のある日本語」が日本語能力試験に出ないかもしれないけど、僕はこの貴重な道具を忘れられない。

Mo-na-ka

On a winter afternoon, I entered Arbol in Nishigawa. It was cold outside, so I ordered a hot coffee and sat down at the middle table. The mochis on top of the heating stove were expanding, and the steam from the kettle fogged up the front window. Ms. Ota brought me water and a snack, and asked me, “D’ya know what this is?” I looked at the label and replied, “Oh, is that saichu?” Ms. Nakahira gave a big laugh as she made the coffee in the kitchen. Standing at the counter, Ms. Kobayashi said to me, “No, no. ‘mo-na-ka’, it’s monaka.” One of the regulars chimed in, and had a fun back and forth with the Arbol three. Soon my coffee arrived, and I slowly sipped it while enjoying the conversation around me.

While helping out at Yamaiki-ichi these three years, Arbol gradually became something I enjoyed every week. Coming to shop at our market, Ms. Kobayashi always quietly and kindly gave us the business advice of an experienced merchant. Ms. Ota would make everyone laugh with one word and liven up the market. Ms. Nakahira’s friendliness would spread to those around her, even eliciting a smile from those she met for the first time. Around midday, one of the three would call out from their doorway, “Oi~! It’s ready!” Thanks to them, not only were the other Yamaiki-ichi members and I able to eat warm lunches, we were also able to spend Saturdays filled with laughter.

In late March, Arbol commemorated their five years by serving zenzai to its customers. They originally planned on running their shop for only a year or two, but while serving up anything from meharizushi to dam curry, it turned into five years before they realized it. In April they will enter their sixth year, and while closing the shop on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, they’ll continue their business as strong as ever. I too look forward to the things they will teach me from now on. The “flavorful Japanese” I have learned from them in these three years may not appear on the JLPT, but it is a precious tool that I do not want to forget.

光るもの The Shining Ones

光るもの

　川上村シルバー人材センターは役場付近の労働会館にある。多くの村民は親しみをこめて、「シルバー」だけで呼ぶ。シルバーの会員は村民さんに依頼された臨時的・短期的な仕事をする。お家の掃除、障子の貼り直し、春からの草引きや草刈りの仕事が多い。シルバーの５６人の会員は６０歳から８８歳までの幅広い年齢層がある。その中から、毎月の末ごろに「しばざくら会」のメンバーは事務所に集まる。

　僕は２月の集まりを覗きに行った。手作りの干支、アクセサリー、色とりどり裁縫材料が事務所に温かい雰囲気を与えた。壁にある振り子時計と何枚のカレンダーが時間をコツコツと計った。真ん中の長いテーブルに座っていた数人の女性は、イチゴのストラップの作業で忙しかった。「今度、匠の聚のアートフェスティバルでこんなもんを販売する」と一人は教えてくれた。後数人が事務所に着いて、みなさんは３月の草引きの日程調整をした。それから、突然カメムシが一人の手に着いて、突然事務所を騒がせた。「美味しそうなところに飛んできたや！」と笑いながら、みなさんは早速裁縫の作業に戻った。着物を解いて、その材料でカバンを作る人もいた。「ここに来て、みんなと話して、色々を教えてもらうのが楽しい」と一人は言ってくれた。みなさんの住んでいる地区が違って、日常生活でお互いになかなか出会わないかもしれないけど、シルバーの仕事で会える。そのうち、コーヒータイムに入り、僕はみなさんと一緒にコーヒーとロールケーキをいただいた。でも、あっという間に、みなさんはまた作業に戻った。もちろん時計の振り子が揺れ続けた。

　村民さんに頼まれた仕事をするシルバー人材。使わなくなった服を新品のカバンに変えるシルバー人材。この事務所でみなさんが仲良く話し合ったり、笑ったりして、とても素敵な空間だと思った。これからしばらく草引きの仕事で忙しくなりそうだが、みなさんは相変わらずお元気でやるのだろう。今朝、みなさんのお話を聞きながら、なぜ「シルバー人材」と呼ばれているかが分かった。みなさんは本当に光っているから。

The Shining Ones

The Kawakami Village Silver Human Resources Center is located inside the Labor Hall near the Village Office. Many village residents familiarly call it just “Silver”. The members of Silver perform temporary or short-term jobs requested by village residents. There are a lot of jobs cleaning houses, re-applying the paper on sliding doors, and pulling or cutting weeds in the spring. The 56 members of Silver have a wide age range from 60 to 88 years old. Among those, members of the Shibazakura Club meet the end of every month in the office.

I went to take a peek at their February meeting. The handcrafted zodiac animals, accessories, and colorful sewing material gave the office a warm feel. The pendulum clock and numerous calendars on the wall diligently measured the time. Sitting at the long table in the middle of the office, a number of women were busy knitting strawberry straps. “We’ll sell these at the next Art Festival at Takumi-no-mura,” one person told me. A few more people arrived at the office, and everyone coordinated their schedules for pulling weeds in March. Then, a shield bug suddenly landed on someone’s hand, sending the office into a flutter. “It landed on a delicious spot,” everyone laughed, as they quickly got back to their needlework. One person was taking apart a kimono, with plans to use that material to make a bag. “It’s fun coming here and talking with everybody, and having them teach me things,” one person told me. Everyone here lives in different wards of the village, so though they might not see each other in day-to-day life, they can meet when doing Silver work. Eventually it was time for coffee, and I sat down to have a coffee and slice of roll cake with everyone. However, before I knew it, they were all back at work. Of course, the clock’s pendulum continued to swing.

The Silvers, performing jobs requested by village residents. The Silvers, turning clothing that is no longer used into a brand new bag. With everyone in this office chatting and laughing, I felt like it was a very beautiful space. They will be busy from now on pulling weeds, but I am sure they will do so with vigor as always. This morning, while listening to everyone’s stories, I realized why they are called the “Silvers”. It is because they really are shining.

草餅の朝 A Morning of Kusamochi

(Please scroll down for the English version.)

草餅の朝

　柿の葉寿司のレッスンが無事に終わった。「早朝やけど、今度、草餅を作ってもらおうか」と徳岡さんはにっこりと笑った。あんこを包んだよもぎ餅は「草餅」と呼ばれる。徳岡さんは柿の葉寿司と同じように、ほとんど毎日草餅を作っている。

　僕は朝七時ごろ西河のお店で徳岡さんと合流してから、大滝の上まで急な坂道を登った。工房の中に入り、暖房で脇で餅を丸めていたお母さんに挨拶した。餅米とよもぎを蒸していたセイロから湯気が上った。徳岡さんはその餅米を餅つき機に移し、よもぎを中に混ぜた。餅米がだんだん緑になり、そして大きな塊になった。徳岡さんはその塊を出し、小麦粉をかけた。お母さんは一口の量を塊から掴み取り、掌で平にした。「この上につぶあんを載せて、こうする」とお母さんは説明した。指を動かしながら、お母さんは餅をつぶあんの周りへ押し上げ、丸めた。餅の表面が滑らかな円盤形になった。

　僕はお母さんと一緒に座り、自分の手で草餅を作ってみた。お母さんを真似しようとしても、餅が思うように動かなかった。「左手の使い方が大事、こうして、こうして」と徳岡さんは見せてくれた。僕の手の効率がだんだんよくなった。餅が掌にくっついてしまったら、すぐあきらめて、手を洗うしかない。小麦粉もちゃんとつけなきゃ。草餅を一口ずつ木箱で並べた。二つ目の塊が出来上がり、つぶあんを載せて丸める作業を繰り返した。徳岡さんは手際よく草餅を販売用のプラスチック箱に入れ、ラベルのシールを貼った。

　徳岡さんは余った一口を取り、僕の渡してくれた。緑の餅がやわらかくて、中のつぶあんが甘くて、とても美味かった。僕はうちでよもぎを料理で使ってみたことがあるが、うまくいかなかった。やっぱり草餅が正解だった。「最後に、明日のための餅米を洗わなあかん」と徳岡さんは言い、僕を流し台へ連れて行ってくれた。

A Morning of Kusamochi

The kakinohazushi lesson finished without delay. “It’ll be early in the morning, but next time, I’ll have you make kusamochi,” said a smiling Mr. Tokuoka. Mugwort mochi wrapped around red bean paste is called “kusamochi”. Just like kakinohazushi, Mr. Tokuoka makes this almost every day.

After meeting up with Mr. Tokuoka around 7 a.m. at his shop in Nishigawa, we climbed the steep hills to the top of Otaki. I entered the workshop and greeted his mother, who was next to the heater balling up mochi. Steam flew out from baskets steaming mochi rice and mugwort. Mr. Tokuoka moved the mochi rice to the mochi pounding machine, and mixed the mugwort into it. The mochi rice gradually turned green, and then into a large clump. Mr. Tokuoka took the clump out and covered it in flour. Mrs. Tokuoka grabbed a piece off and flattened it over the palm of her hand. “We place the red bean paste on top and wrap it like this,” she explained. While moving multiple fingers, she pushed the mochi up and around the red paste, then rounded it off. The surface of the mochi became a smooth, disc-like shape.

I sat with Mrs. Tokuoka and tried making kusamochi with my own hands. Even if I tried to imitate her, my the mochi would not move as I hoped. “It’s important how you use your left hand, so go like this, and like this,” Mr. Tokuoka showed me. The efficiency of my hands gradually improved. When mochi stuck to the palm of my hand, the only thing to do is give up and go wash my hands. I also had to be sure to apply enough flour. We lined the kusamochi one by one in the wooden box. The second large lump of mochi was ready, and we repeated our work of loading the red bean paste and rounding out the mochi. Mr. Tokuoka quickly packed the kusamochi into plastic containers for selling and added the sticker label.

Mr. Tokuoka grabbed a leftover kusamochi and handed it to me. The green mochi was soft, and the red bean paste inside was sweet and delicious. I have tried using mugwort when cooking at home, but it did not go very well. As I expected, kusamochi is the right choice. “Finally, we need to was the mochi rice for tomorrow,” Mr. Tokuoka said, and led me over to the sink.

圧し、包む作業 Press and Wrap Work

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圧し、包む作業

　地元の伝統食品である柿の葉寿司について聞きたいと思い、川上村西河の徳岡さんを訪れた。「圧してみる？」と徳岡さんは温かく微笑み、お店の奥へ案内してくださった。僕は手袋にお酢をつけ、型の底に鯖を一つずつ入れた。また手袋にお酢を少しつけ、型がいっぱいになるまでご飯を鯖の上に乗せた。型の蓋を閉め、体重を使いながら、両手で型を強く圧した。蓋を開け、型を裏返してみたら、5個の鯖寿司が綺麗に並んでいた。お店の前に戻り、お寿司を柿の葉で包む作業に入った。両手の何本かの指を順番にゆっくり動かしながら、徳岡さんは一個を包み、木の箱に入れた。僕は彼の手を真似しようとしたが、最初に指が思うように動かなかった。四、五個目からリズムができ、「右、左、右」の作業に夢中になった。あっという間に木の箱がいっぱいになった。

　川上村の柿の葉寿司は日本遺産として認定されて、国籍を問わず観光客に愛されている。吉野山が観光客で賑わっている桜や紅葉の季節に、徳岡さんは一日に早朝より夕方までかなりの量を作る。冬も休まずに、徳岡さんは一年中、鯖と鮭の寿司を一つ一つ圧し、柿の葉で包む。保存食である柿の葉寿司は昔から塩で辛かったが、徳岡さんは現代の好みに合わせ、塩分を控えめにしている。「やっぱり『おいしい』や『口に合う』と言われたら、嬉しい」と徳岡さんは一個の寿司を柿の葉で包みながら言った。

　僕は柿の葉寿司を何個も持って帰り、レコードを流し、美味しくいただいた。川上村の家庭はみんな柿の葉寿司を作れるとよく言われる。当然かもしれないが、僕の実家で柿の葉寿司を作らない。僕は自分の手で寿司を圧し、柿の葉で包み、家で食べることによって、みんなの生活を少し垣間見たような気がする。一個を作るためどのぐらいの手間がかかるかを実感したおかげで、これから食べる柿の葉寿司がさらに美味しくなる。

Press and Wrap Work

As I wanted to ask about the traditional local dish, kakinohazushi, I visited Mr. Tokuoka in the Nishigawa district of Kawakami Village. “You wanna try pressing it?” He asked me with a warm smile, and led me to the back of the shop. I wet my gloves in vinegar and placed individual pieces of mackerel on the bottom of the shaping mold. I once again wet my gloves with vinegar and loaded rice on top of the mackerel until the mold was full. I closed the lid, and using my body weight, pressed down strongly with both hands. When I opened the lid and flipped the shaping mold over, five pieces of sushi were lined up perfectly. We went back to the front of the shop and got to work wrapping the sushi in persimmon leaves. Slowly moving multiple fingers of both hands in a specific order, Mr. Tokuoka wrapped up a single piece of sushi and placed it in a wooden box. I tried to imitate his hands, but at first my fingers wouldn’t move how I wanted them. I developed a rhythm around the fourth of fifth piece of sushi, becoming absorbed in the “right, left, right” work. Before we knew it, the box was full.

The kakinohazushi of Kawakami Village is a recognized Japan Heritage cultural property, and is loved by many tourists regardless of citizenship. When Mt. Yoshino is busy with tourists in the cherry blossom and colored leaves seasons, Mr. Tokuoka makes a ton of sushi from the early morning into the evening almost everyday. Without taking any time off in the winter, Mr. Tokuoka continues to press mackerel and salmon sushi, then wrap them in persimmon leaves year-round. As a preserved food, kakinohazushi was originally very salty, but Mr. Tokuoka has catered to modern tastes, and tries to go light on the salt. “Of course I’m happy when people say, ‘It’s delicious’ or ‘This is just how I like it.’,” he told me as he wrapped a piece of sushi in a persimmon leaf.

I took home some pieces of kakinohazushi, put on a record, and ate the delicious local specialty. I am often told that most households in Kawakami Village can make kakinohazushi. It might go without saying, but the house I grew up in did not make it. By pressing the sushi, wrapping them in persimmon leaves with my own hands, and finally eating them, I felt like I caught a short glimpse of everyone’s life. Getting a feel for how much work goes into making one piece of sushi, the kakinohazushi I eat from now on will taste even more delicious.

上社での新年 New Year at Kamisha

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上社での新年

　丹生川上神社上社の手伝いを始める前に、宮司さんに白衣を着せていただいた。何層もの白い布に包まれ、自分の行動が普段と違って感じた。世界が一際静かになった。しかし、それについて考える余裕がなく、早速宮司さんの手伝いに取り掛かった。

　足袋と草履に慣れていない僕は砂利の上を歩いたり、階段をのぼったりして、足の長い宮司さんについて行こうとした。大晦日の朝から宮司さんの孫と一緒に本殿を掃除して、昼からテントを立てて、休憩所のストーブを準備した。竹箒で砂利を道から掃いてから、夕方の前に家に帰り、数時間仮眠した。

　大晦日の夜から神社に戻り、白衣に着替えた。さらに寒くなったから、村民ととんど焼の火を囲んだ。「よう燃えとる、よう燃えとる」と一人は言った。零時からみなさんは本殿に入り、宮司さんにお祓いしていただいた。本殿の三階までの階段が金で光っていた。龍神である高龗大神（ルビ：たかおかみのおおかみ）と色とりどりのお供え物は、みなさんを新年へ歓迎してくださった。最後に、僕は参拝者にお神酒を注いだ。その後、参拝者はテントで暖まりながら、日本酒を飲んだり、おつまみを齧ったりした。

　数時間深く仮眠して、鮮やかな夢を見てから、元日の朝六時前に目覚めた。宮司さんは受付窓で座ったまま、ずっと参拝者を待っていた。晴れた空に恵まれて、初日の出が上流の山々の裏からゆっくり上った。僕は宮司さんと奥さんと一緒に年越し蕎麦を食べてから、受付窓で参拝者を待った。地元の知り合いが来たが、大阪府や兵庫県からの参拝者が多くて、ご祈祷、朱印、お守り、おみくじ、甘酒を求めて、初詣でに来た。この数日は神社の一番忙しい時期らしい。寝不足の宮司さんと奥さんはバタバタしながら、いつも明るい笑顔で参拝者を迎えて、ゆっくりお話を聞いた。

　神社の手伝いの最終日は少し寒くなった。宮司さんは朝から本殿の隣の水神社でお祭りを２回行った。昼から成人式の七人がお参りに来た。みなさんが本殿の前で写真を撮っていた時、淡い雪が降り始めた。日が山の端に差し掛かり、僕は竹箒で砂利を石畳から掃いた。帰る前に、僕も百円玉を赤い販売機に入れて、おみくじを引いた。

New Year at Kajisha

Before I started helping at Niu Kawakami Shrine Kamisha, I was dressed into white clothing by the reverend. Wrapped in layers of white cloth, my actions felt different than usual. The world became a shade quieter. However, I did not have time to think about that, quickly got to helping out the reverend.

As I was not used to the tabi socks or zouri sandals, I did my best keeping up with the reverend while we walked across gravel or climbed up and down the steps. In the morning, I cleaned the main hall of the shrine with the reverend’s grandchildren. In the afternoon, I helped set up the tent and prepared the stove heaters in the rest area. After sweeping the gravel from the paths with a bamboo broom, I went home just before evening and napped for a few hours.

I went back to the shrine the night of December 31st and changed into the white clothing. It was even colder than before, so I gathered around the tondoyaki fire with other villagers. “It’s burning good, burning good!” one person said. After midnight everyone entered the main hall to be purified by the reverend. The steps leading up to the third floor of the main hall glistened in gold. The dragon god Takaokami-no-okami and the colorful offerings welcomed everyone into the New Year. Finally, I poured the sacred saké for our worshippers. After that, the worshippers warmed themselves in the tent while drinking saké and munching on snacks.

After taking a deep nap for a few hours and seeing a vibrant dream, I woke up just before 6 a,m, on the first day of the year. The reverend was still sitting at the office window, waiting for worshippers. We were blessed with clear weather, and the first sunrise of the year slowly climbed up from behind the upstream mountains. After eating toshikoshi soba with the reverend and his wife, I waited for worshippers at the office window. Some locals I knew came, but there were many people who came all the way from Osaka or Hyogo Pref. for prayers, shuin stamps, amulets, fortunes, and amazaké on their first shrine visits of the year. These few days are the busiest of the year for the shrine. While the sleep-deprived reverend and his wife were busy running around, they greeted every worshipper with a bright smile and took the time to lend an ear.

My last day helping at the shrine was a little colder. That morning the reverend performed a ceremony twice at the small Sui Shrine next to the main hall. In the afternoon, the seven young villagers of the Coming-of-Age Ceremony paid a visit to the shrine. While they were all taking a photo in front of the main hall, a light snow started falling. As the sun approached the edge of the mountain, I swept the gravel from the path with the bamboo broom. Before I went home, I slipped a 100 yen coin into the red vending machine and received a fortune.

木について語る：MoonRounds Talk On Wood: MoonRounds

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木について語る：MoonRounds

　「満ち欠けする様にみえる自然のリズムに沿う」をイメージして、渡邉崇さんは自分の工房を「MoonRounds (ムーンラウンズ)」と名付けた。工房でろくろで木を回しながら、彼はお皿、茶碗、一輪挿しと他の「器」を作る。木工作家である崇は天然のオイルや草木で作品を染める。作品を見たら、一つ一つにストーリーがあると分かる。

　「この間、台風で倒れた木や。」と崇さんは言い、県道を崩壊させた風倒木を指した。この分厚くて、300年生の杉の木は、吉野林業の長い歴史の証拠でありながら、自然と暮らす危険の証拠でもある。大きくなって、傾いてきて、倒れそうな街路樹もMoonRoundsの工房で並べてあった。何かとのゆかりがある木がよく崇さんの工房に届く。木に傷の跡や節や歪んだところがあっても、崇さんはそのいわゆる「欠点」を「特徴」として活かす。木の由来を暗示する特徴だ。それぞれの木は他の木と違う、独特の経験があると思い出させる特徴だ。

　もちろん崇さんは傷のない、節のない木も使う。吉野杉、吉野ヒノキ、桜、栃、楠の木の作品が棚で並んでいる。大きくて平らなお皿の年輪がだんだん溶けて、長い雲のように見える。一輪挿しの年輪が潮の干満のように優しく上下する。年輪に合わせた茶碗の縁が海辺を離れた長い波のように見える。冬目を数えなくても、MoonRoundsの作品を見ながら、生命の経過を感じる。作品を一つずつ作るための思い、木とともに生活してきた人間、地球とともに進化してきた木。時計で計れない生命の経過だ。日常用品ではなくても、こんな作品と暮らすことはその生命の恩返しだ。

　MoonRoundsの工房の上に弥勒寺というお寺がある。崇さんは木工の腕を貸して、近所の方々と一緒に弥勒寺を改装している。年に数回みんなで「弥勒茶屋」を開催する。近所の方は弥勒寺の歴史を調べて、参加者のための資料を作る。崇さんの奥さんは身内の冗談を交えた落語をする。座布団に座っている参加者は柿の葉寿司を齧りながら、笑い合う。この環境がMoonRoundsの作品に写っていると僕は思う。みんなの独特の力で成り立っている弥勒茶屋。木や草木の自然な模様と色彩を活かすMoonRounds。どちらにも人を受け入れる暖かみがある。どちらからも、自然のリズムに沿った暮らしの魅力がにじみ出る。

Talk On Wood: MoonRounds

In an image “along the waxing and waning rhythm of nature”, Takashi Watanabe named his studio “MoonRounds”. While spinning his lathe in his studio, Takashi makes plates, bowls, vases, and other “vessels”. As a woodworking artist, he dyes his works with natural oils and grasses. When you look at his works, you can see there is a story in each one.

“This is the tree that fell in the last typhoon,” Takashi said, pointing to the fallen tree that collapsed the prefectural road. This thick, 300-year-old cedar was both evidence of the long history of Yoshino forestry, as well as the danger of living with nature. A street tree that was chopped because it grew too large and was about to fall was also lined up in the MoonRounds studio. Trees with a connection to something often arrive at Takashi’s studio. Even with scars or knots or deformations, Takashi brings those so-called “flaws” to life as “characteristics”. Characteristics that suggest the history of a tree. Characteristics that remind us that every tree has had a different, unique experience.

Of course, Takashi also uses trees with no scars or knots too. Works made of Yoshino cedar, Yoshino cypress, cherry tree, horse chestnut, and camphor tree are lined up on his shelves. The year rings on a large flat plate gradually melt into what looks like a long cloud on the plate. The year rings on a vase softly ebb and flow like the tide. The lip of a bowl cut inline with the year rings looks like a long wave far away from the shore. Even without counting the winter rings, I feel the course of life while looking at the works of MoonRounds. The thought that goes into creating each work, the people who have lived with the trees, the trees that have evolved with the earth. It is the passing of life that cannot be measured by a clock. Even if it is not something you use everyday, living with these kinds of works is a way to say thank you for that time.

Above the MoonRounds studio is a temple called Miroku-ji. Takashi lends his woodworking abilities to help renovate it with his neighbors. A few times a year, they hold an event called “Miroku Tea House”. A neighbor researches the history of Miroku-ji and makes pamphlets for the participants. Takashi’s wife performs rakugo storytelling, throwing in inside jokes for locals. Participants sit on floor pillows while munching on persimmon leaf sushi and laughing together. I feel like this environment is evident in the work of MoonRounds. Miroku Tea House, formed via everyone’s unique skills. MoonRounds, bringing to life the natural patterns and colors of trees and grass. Both of them have a warmth that brings people in. From both of them emanates the beauty of a lifestyle along the rhythm of nature.