Welcome back to another installment of life in the Japanese countryside! We just recently celebrated one year of living in our abandoned house in rural Japan, but we’ve quickly adapted to this life of ours.
While it has only been a year, we are only beginning to scratch the surface of our country living. We’ve learned to appreciate the slower pace of living, learned how to prepare our wood stove baths in advance, nurtured our garden back to good health (after last year’s disastrous attempt), made small but much-needed restoration work on our traditional house, and adapted to the critters that share the house with us.
As a quick recap of this past year, here are some ways we’ve adapted to country life in Japan in the last year.
We are enjoying Kochi Prefecture’s famous clear rivers
We reside in Kochi, Shikoku’s largest prefecture, home to some of Japan’s clearest rivers and submergible bridges called chinkabashi (沈下橋). These ingenious bridges are designed to withstand the powerful currents of rivers during heavy rainfall or typhoons. As water levels rise, these concrete bridges gradually submerge, allowing the water to flow freely without causing damage to the structure.
With the pacific ocean on one side and mountains on the other, Kochi provides endless opportunities for outdoor activities, like hiking its rugged mountain terrain, challenging themselves with the famous Shikoku Pilgrimage Trail, or going swimming, snorkeling, and even surfing along Kochi’s coastline.
For us, we’ve doubled down on swimming in Kochi’s beautiful waters, especially on these hot and humid summer days.
Our house is located near one of the smaller rivers in the region, and we recently took our first dip of the year. Although the water was a little chilly, it was a delightful way to kick off the warming season. Swimming is not just an activity, but it’s also a great way to cool off after being cooped up indoors during the scorching summer months.
We are learning to coexist with frogs, spiders, and other critters
As for the critters in and around the house, we have come to appreciate their presence as part of the natural ecosystem surrounding us. In early spring, the rice fields are freshly plowed, flooded for rice planting, with tiny tadpoles growing into a chorus of frogs and toads. The fields are also a thriving environment of black kites and herons.
At night, the critter landscape changes, with geckos and frogs clinging to the windows and doors. Centipedes come in different types — the geji geji centipede is a helpful creature that can help keep pests like cockroaches at bay. Meanwhile, the mukade centipede can deliver a painful bite, but it’s important to know they’re not lethal.
Living in an old house like ours means accepting the critters that make themselves at home. We consider ourselves renters of this house, but we share it with many who have lived here long before we arrived. The huntsmen spiders that once frightened me are now a regular part of our surroundings. It may be hard to believe, but we have grown fond of them, proving even the scariest things lose their edge with enough time.
What grocery shopping is like in our small community
Due to our remote location, living in the countryside of Japan requires some thoughtful planning. We live roughly 30 minutes from the nearest supermarket, convenience store, and restaurant. Local buses are scarce, so we heavily rely on a car to meet our daily needs. We usually make two weekly trips to town to shop for essentials at the grocery store. Our trips also include stops at the hardware store and gardening center, among other necessities.
Our favorite place to buy fish is at the local fish store, which always sells fresh fish caught by local fishermen on the same day. Sometimes, we treat ourselves to miniature taiyaki pastries filled with custard and azuki beans from the food stalls inside the grocery store. They are always a delightful treat for the ride back home.
The neighborhood produce swaps and dinners
Although we love Japanese food, we often find ourselves craving certain food items from back home. To satisfy these cravings, we have taken to baking our own bread, making dill pickles, and even considering making cheese. Not only does this help alleviate our homesickness, but it also allows us to share a taste of our hometown flavors with our neighbors who have been so generous with their own.
We’ve also started gardening, with helpful neighbors always nearby to lend a helpful hand. Last year, we exchanged our ume plums and persimmon fruits with their homegrown vegetables— a continuous cycle of giving and receiving. It’s just one of the many delightful perks of living in the countryside!
Since there are no restaurants, cafes, or bars nearby, we often have dinners and hangouts with our closest neighbors at home. Recently, I made California rolls for a potluck as a fun way to introduce our North American mashup on sushi, but they didn’t turn out as well as I had hoped. Lesson learned: never bring sushi rolls to a potluck if you’ve never made them. Nonetheless, our neighbors appreciated the gesture.
Collecting wood and how we prepare our wood-fire bath
One of the most time-consuming but equally rewarding chores with bath preparation. We don’t have a hot water tank, so we rely on a wood-burning stove connected to a kerosene heater to heat the cold water.
Firewood sellers are scarce or sell expensive bundles of firewood, so we’ve taken to finding our own firewood sources — a challenge in its own right. Last year, we processed a load of leftover wood from a highway crew that had cleared it for road maintenance. After we ran out of this, we resorted to wood ends from lumber yards while we continued our search for more fallen trees.
From start to finish, filling and heating a cold tub of water takes under two hours, but it’s worth it. During the warmer months, the frog’s croaks are nearly deafening, creating its own natural soundtrack. It’s a beautiful experience to turn off the lights and listen to the sounds of wild frogs at night while sitting in a wood-heated bath.
Living in the countryside comes with many challenges and more than a little hard work. Many nights, we are tired, and lighting the fire for the bath seems like a challenge. But when you wake up in the morning and have that first cup of coffee on the deck, gazing out at the freshly flooded rice paddies, you remember that it is a lifestyle, not a job.