by Chris McMorran

In January 2022 I was finally able to visit Japan after a two-year gap. Two years of lockdowns, canceled research trips, and courses, meetings, and conferences moved online. Covid-19 disrupted my annual cycle of taking students to Kumamoto each May, visiting Tokyo for short holidays, and visiting family in Kumamoto each New Year’s. My return in January 2022 coincided with 10 months of sabbatical away from NUS and Japan’s reluctant opening to non-Japanese visitors. I could only enter because of my Japanese partner. Japan’s tight regulations on foreign visitors had been polling strongly and boosting PM Kishida’s government, so I expected to find a “closed country” mentality on the streets of Tokyo and Kumamoto, where I split three months.

Instead, I found people as polite and welcoming as ever. Kids playing in the street in my in-laws’ neighbourhood said hello. Staff in shops and restaurants welcomed us enthusiastically. But I did not yet feel comfortable doing interviews or even visiting my usual fieldwork sites, around Kurokawa Onsen (Kumamoto). I feared introducing the coronavirus to the spaces and people I care about so much. I owed a massive debt to those people and did not want to jeopardize my future with them. So I spent my time researching spaces and ideas on the periphery of my main focus: the intersection of tourism and work in rural Japan. And I took advantage of our new shared technological abilities, sharing my latest work in online lectures. 

During my three months in Japan I gave lectures for audiences at International Christian University (Tokyo), Kanazawa University and the German Institute for Japanese Studies (DIJ). Under the heightened restrictions from the Omicron wave of January and February 2022, all three talks were moved online. While I felt some disappointment, I was also uplifted by the fact that the online talks could be attended by a truly global audience. My lecture on ryokan for International Christian University could be attended by ICU professors and students, as well as ICU alumni (including one who currently works in a ryokan!), and some of my own students in Singapore. My lecture for Kanazawa University could be attended by super-busy ryokan owners from distant Kurokawa Onsen, and my lecture for the German Institute for Japanese Studies could be attended by researchers based in Europe. These lectures reminded me how broad the global interest is in rural Japan, as well as how inclusive and supportive the network of scholars is.

While in Tokyo, I was excited to encounter instances of rural Japan reimagined as a new space of combined tourism and work, in the form of the “workation” (work+vacation) Posters in trains and train platforms showed happy individuals sitting in the great outdoors, their laptops strategically open before them. Covid-19 reminded everyone of the inherent risks associated with congested urban spaces. Rural areas have provided a way to escape such risks—and even enjoy one’s work—by working remotely (“telework”). The rural workation moves beyond working from home, which carries its own risks of burnout. Rural Japan—accessible by train—promises the ideal solution. Seeing so many reminders of this reimagination of rural Japan was enough to spur a new research project, one that would have been unlikely had I not returned to Japan. 

I also visited one of Japan’s oldest onsen, Dōgo Onsen in Ehime, to see how it was weathering the Covid-19 storm. Shopping streets that in normal times would be brimming with shops selling local delicacies and flooded with tourists sat half empty. Some shops were temporarily shuttered. In the shops that were open, staff waited eagerly for the next customer to arrive. The lack of guests meant we could easily bathe in Dōgo’s most famous public baths, without waiting in lines that can normally last hours. It was a reminder that Japan’s tourism industry has a long road to recovery from the coronavirus disruption. My time in Japan was over too quickly, but I was grateful I could reconnect with the country and be stimulated by new potential research avenues. 

Chris McMorran is Associate Professor of Japanese Studies at the National University of Singapore. He is a cultural geographer of contemporary Japan who researches the geographies of home across scale, from the body to the nation. His is the author of Ryokan: Mobilizing Hospitality in Rural Japan (2022, University of Hawai’i Press), an intimate study of a Japanese inn, based on twelve months spent scrubbing baths, washing dishes, and making guests feel at home at a hot springs resort. He also co-produces (with NUS students) “Home on the Dot,” a podcast that explores the meaning of home on the little red dot of Singapore.

by Sarah Bijlsma

This week, Japan celebrated the 50-year anniversary of Okinawa’s return to the mainland. After being governed by the US since the end of WWII, the administration of the prefecture was handed back to prime minister Eisaku Satō (1901-1975) on the 15^th of May 1972. On the anniversary day, the central and national governments held ceremonies simultaneously in Tokyo and Okinawa including a video message from the Japanese Emperor and Empress. In the months before the anniversary, national and local media platforms took the opportunity to publish articles, interviews, and visual content that address various aspects of Okinawa Prefecture. In this blogpost, I will discuss two examples that illustrate the different ways the Japanese media represents the prefecture.

One strand of publications echoes hegemonic discourses of ‘Okinawa difference,’ including romanticized representations of the islands’ distinct culture and social life [1]. NHK, for example, since April broadcasts the morning drama Chimudondon. The asadora tells the story of a farmer’s daughter from the lush Yanbaru area, who opens an Okinawan restaurant in Tokyo in her adult life. The scenes are full of natural sceneries, local dishes, traditional crafts, and the large families Okinawa is known for. In the third episode, when the girl is still a child, she talks with the father of a friend who just moved from the capital to her small village. Standing under a shikuwasa tree with the blue sea shines bright in the background, she wonders out loud, “Isn’t Tokyo a much more interesting place?” The man replies: “You know, to you this village is your hometown.” “My hometown?” the girl looks confused [2]. The natural environment, genuine human relationships, and use of the Japanese term furusato for hometown instantly evokes a nostalgic feeling for all that is lost in urbanized Japan.

What is noticeable, however, is that in addition to such romanticized representations media channels gave much attention to the ongoing social and economic issues the prefecture is facing—a different translation of ‘Okinawa difference.’ Especially regarding the US military presence on the islands and the relocation of the Futenma base to Henoko, news platforms do not shy away of featuring critical voices. Asahi Shinbun, for example, featured an interview with a woman who joined the protest march that was held in the streets of Naha on 15 May 1972. She recalls that on the day of the reversion, rain came pouring from the sky. It was not a celebrative atmosphere; while she was only a high school student, she was somehow aware that it was not the return that she had wanted. Yet only years later, when she started working with children herself, she became to understand the irrationality of the situation in Okinawa more deeply. Even after the reversion to Japan, sexual assaults of children and women by US soldiers and helicopter accidents continued to occur significantly. The woman states that she feels that Okinawans are treated as if their lives do not matter much. Land reclamation in the Henoko sea continues, while she does not believe that there is anyone in the prefecture who agrees with that [3].  

During the ceremonies on the 15^th of May, many references were made to Okinawa’s present-day issues as well. Prime Minister Fumio Kishida acknowledged Okinawa’s lacking economy and continuing burden of the bases, pledging to “steadily make visible progress on the alleviation of the burden while maintaining the deterrence offered by the Japan-U.S. alliance” [4]. Okinawa governor Denny Tamaki urged the central government to turn Okinawa finally into “islands of peace” [5]. These statements and the media coverage illustrate that there is an increasing ground to openly debate social issues in present-day Japan. People more often take a clear stance; a newly conducted survey by Kyodo News showed that ca. 80% of the Japanese does not find it fair compared to other prefectures that Okinawa hosts more than 70% of Japan’s US military bases [6]. It is my hope that these and other debates continue to be held in and outside of Okinawa, also after this ‘anniversary’ year.

References

[1] See for example Hein, Ina. 2010. “Constructing difference in Japan: Literary counter-images of the Okinawa boom”, Contemporary Japan 22, 179-204.

[2] Chimudondon. NHK, 2022. Episode 3.

[3] Asahi Shimbun. 11 May 2022. (fukki 50 nen, sorezore no Okinawa) demo shashin ni, kōkōsei datta watashi kyōin ni nari rikai shita, Okinawa ga seou rifujin [(50 years after return, every Okinawa) I was a high school student on the photo of the demonstration, when I became a teacher I understood the irrationality that burdens Okinawa].

[4] Kyodo News. 15 May 2022. “Okinawa marks 50 years since reversion to Japan.” Via: https://english.kyodonews.net/news/2022/05/48ab72b43dd5-okinawa-marks-50-years-since-reversion-from-us-rule-as-bases-remain.html

[5] Kyodo News. 15 May 2022. “Okinawa marks 50 years since reversion to Japan.” Via: https://english.kyodonews.net/news/2022/05/48ab72b43dd5-okinawa-marks-50-years-since-reversion-from-us-rule-as-bases-remain.html

[6] Japan Times. 5 May 2022. “Nearly 80% of Japanese think Okinawa’s base-hosting unfair”.

by Cecilia Luzi

In April 2022, my first year as a PhD student came to an end. Since maternity leave kept me away from my office for about seven months last year, my schedule changed, and I just entered what is supposed to be the “fieldwork year”. During the last months, I have been following migrants in Hasami and Buzen mainly through their social media profiles. Recently, I reached out to some of them, and I started to listen to their stories about the migration experience via Zoom. I will write more about this experience in the future, but in this post, I would like to follow up on Professor Reiher’s last article and reflect about doing research during a global pandemic.

When we started working in the project in October 2020, we did not realize yet that being able to be in Berlin at the same time, was already a great chance. Our offices face each other and being physically close encouraged the team spirit a lot. Moreover, when all classes for PhD students took place online, and most of other members of our cohort at GEAS were stuck in Japan, Korea or somewhere else in Europe, being here on campus helped us not to lose track of our own PhD projects. By  simply being able to say hello in the morning across the corridor or have a chat while making coffee in the kitchen has been very helpful during these months.

Together, we developed ideas about how to continue our research during the pandemic. We went through a process of adapting our respective research together. Very often, we discussed how to overcome bureaucratic obstacles or just encouraged each other. Together we managed to remain positive even during confusing times. For instance, when the Japanese government closed borders again in the aftermath of the emergence of the Omicron variant in late 2021, the “Urban-rural migration and rural revitalization in Japan” research group was my source of strength even when working from home. I can never thank them enough.

Yet, this was not our only support group. While learning how the digital space could be used to access the research field from our desks, we also started to use digital meeting tools to reach out other students and researchers with similar interests. In a short time, we set up an online study group meeting once a month. After a year and many meetings, I can confidently say that these meeting were incredibly useful for developing a research network, receiving feedback and discovering new research paths. The atmosphere in the study group is very cooperative and informal and I really enjoyed these moments of exchange with people from outside the team. I am very grateful to all the participants who stayed with us during all these months, and I really hope we will be able to meet in person one day soon.

Last but not the least, this blog was of course another door to the outside world and still keeps us connected with researchers on rural Japan and beyond. Contributions come from people with all sorts of backgrounds, different origins, and various interests, which makes the blog rich and vibrant. For me, writing in a blog is both a chance to reflect on the practice of dissemination of academic knowledge and an exercise of awareness for positionality. In fact, while putting my observations and thoughts out for a wider and more diversified public, I am forced to spend time reflecting about what parts of my research I want the blog’s audience to see and how I can convey them in less than 800 words. I experienced how a blog can “become a workspace for the ethnographer” (Beaulieu 2004, p.151).

The fabric of social relations is what kept me afloat during these years of the pandemic. This is especially true when it comes to my PhD. Whether in the office wearing masks, or over Webex having Christmas parties, exchanging ideas and encouraging each other, within and outside our team, has always brought back the enthusiasm of the beginning. I value the relations built both in the “real” and “virtual” world. If there is one important lesson these hard times taught me, it is that social connections always can find a way through pandemic lockdowns, isolation and overcome any distance.

References

Beaulieu, A. 2004. Mediating ethnography: objectivity and the making of ethnographies of the internet, Social Epistemology, 18:2-3, 139-163,

by Cornelia Reiher

It has already been a year since we started this blog in March 2021 to report on our research in the DFG project “Urban-rural migration and rural revitalization in Japan.” I launched the blog to share first insights from (online) fieldwork and to connect with other researchers and practitioners in Europe and Asia. Throughout this year our team experienced hope and disappointments with regard to our fieldwork plans. Japan first lifted its Covid-induced entry ban in November 2021 and closed the borders again in December. Instead of waiting around, however, all of us conducted online research. This included, for example, online interviews, social media research and participant observation in online events. We also continued our online study group. In the winter term 2021/22 we launched a lecture series. Colleagues and students presented their research and we discovered interesting parallels or connections between the different projects discussing urban-rural migration and rural issues in and beyond Japan. This summer we will experiment with different formats, including workshop-style discussion groups and lectures.

The blog became an important venue to channel our thoughts and to present our experiences and first results. By doing so, we also reached out to other researchers and students whom we invited to write about their own research on rural Japan, urban-rural migration and methodological challenges during the pandemic. Because we could not go to Japan ourselves, we asked some of our research participants to write about the situation in rural Japan, about themselves and about their rural revitalization activities. Our network expanded faster than we expected and we were able to publish one blogpost a week. Up to now there are 56 posts authored by 24 different contributors, many of them members of our online study group. Surprisingly, we were contacted by people who found our blog online and some of them later became authors, collaborators or research participants. Motivated by this experience, we created an Instagram account to reach even more people.

We also used the blog to share information about our online events and lectures. We have presented preliminary results of this project in November 2021 at the Urban-Rural Study Group meeting of the German Association for Social Science Research on Japan (VSJF). Team members also individually presented their work in different contexts. One of this year’s highlights was our joint study group with Sachie Oka’s lab from Kyushu University. Frank and Cecilia presented their research in Japanese and we had very interesting discussions with Oka sensei’s Phd and MA students. We will meet online again in order to strengthen our cooperation with researchers and peers from Japan. In April we also met with members of the Aso Project at the University of Vienna  to exchange experiences with research about rural Kyushu. In June, Chris McMorran from NUS, who is a member of our study group and also authored a blog post, will join FU Berlin as a visiting researcher and present his new book. We hope for more onsite exchange like this in the future!

Finally, the blog also served as a means to raise our team spirit during the long periods when we could not meet in person. Working together on the short blog posts, sharing feedback and reading other people’s posts, helped to feel closer as a team. Other things, of course, raised our team spirits even more. In February, we received a surprise parcel from Chris who had already entered Japan. He sent sweets from Kumamoto. This was a great culinary motivation during a time when we did not know when Japan would reopen its borders for researchers and students. But most of all, meeting with the other team members in Berlin and to discover new things about rural areas together, cheered us up. In April we went on a fieldtrip to Brandenburg to talk to German urban-rural migrants in our vicinity and it was a wonderful opportunity to spend time with the team before we have to meet online again. But this time this is due to Frank’s departure to Japan. Cecilia and Sarah will hopefully go to Japan this fall. Closing this blog post on this happy news, I would also like to thank everyone who contributed to this blog! I am especially grateful to Maritchu Durand for doing an excellent job designing and regularly uploading everyone’s posts and for creating and updating our Instagram account. I am looking forward to another year of interesting contributions about rural Japan. This summer, I am also using the blog as a resource for teaching undergraduate students at FUB about Japan’s rural areas.