Are we using the right terms? Reflecting on migration trajectories in rural Japan 

by Cecilia Luzi

Last August, I returned from Japan after ten months of field research in Buzen and Hasami. During my time there, I gained important new insights. Being so close to the places and people changed my perspective on urban-rural migration in unexpected ways. Among the many experiences and observations, one thing struck me as soon as I arrived and has continued to fascinate me: the amazing diversity of life paths of urban migrants in rural Japan. Some of them were born in the city, took the plunge to settle in the tranquility of Hasami or Buzen, and never moved anywhere else. Others had traveled the world in their twenties before settling permanently in rural Japan. Some returned to their hometowns after years in Tokyo because they wanted to be close to family and friends, while others deliberately moved as far away from their relatives as possible. Some followed their spouses to the countryside, while other migrants remained in constant motion, either driven by a desire for change or leaving the country because they had difficulty finding a job or a place to live. The complexity of these stories makes it very difficult to classify urban-rural migrants into predefined categories based either on their origin or their aspirations for the future, as the following examples show.

Hitomi’s parents’ renovated warehouse.
Copyright © Cecilia Luzi 2022

The first time I met Hitomi, she suggested that we meet at the local farmer’s market during her lunch break. We enjoyed our bento boxes together, sitting at the tables beside the shop under the warm November sun, and chatted animatedly about our lives. Hitomi works as a translator in Chinese and English at the local Toshiba branch. Her husband is Colombian, and they have three delightful daughters. Hitomi was born in Kitakyushu and moved to the countryside four years ago, where her parents have been residing for the past decade. They renovated her father’s childhood home in the mountains. Hitomi has plenty of friends both among migrants and locals and she became one of my gatekeepers, opening many doors for me. One of the first people she introduced me to was Kenji. Kenji is a 47 years old, soft-spoken man with a warm smile. He was born in Hokkaido but grew up in Tokyo with his single mother. He completed his graduation in sociology from the university and studied in the USA. After struggling with precarious jobs in Tokyo, he decided to move to a small town in central Kyushu to dedicate his life to agriculture and sustainable living. He now lives in an old house with his wife and three-year-old daughter, splitting his time between farming and working as an online therapist. Kenji has embraced a self-sustainable way of life, where he farms, hunts and exchanges food and tools with others to use as little money as possible: “As long as I can live in proximity with nature and be self-sustainable, I can live anywhere.”

The roof of Kenji’s house.
Copyright © Cecilia Luzi 2023

Yusuke is a 53-year-old man from Kyoto who had spent 25 years in New Zealand before moving back to Japan with his family two years ago. He used to work in the restaurant business. Born in Kyoto, his parents now live in Nara prefecture, and with their age progressing, he felt he wanted to be closer to them. He chuckled and said, “But not too close! I am not used to have them around anymore.” Yusuke is currently employed at the town hall, and his contract will end at the end of this year. In the future, he plans to manage a café, co-working space and guesthouse in a renovated building within an old ceramic factory complex. Thanks to him, I had the opportunity to speak with many other migrants who come to rural Japan through the chiiki okoshi kyōryokutai program. If he cannot find a stable occupation before the end of the year, he will need to move back to New Zealand because he would have no pension in Japan.

The building where Yusuke will work
Copyright © Cecilia Luzi 2023

The first time I went to Nami’s café, I had no idea that she was also a migrant. Nami is a 44-year-old woman who returned to her hometown after spending several years in Tokyo and Paris where she studied fashion. She now lives in her childhood home with her parents, 12-year-old son and newborn daughter while waiting for her new house to be built. Her husband comes to visit from Tokyo from time to time. Nami’s move back home was not just a change of location, it was a complete life reinvention. She was eager to return to work after spending years as a housewife in Tokyo, and with the help of her family, she found a job managing a ceramic shop and a café that is connected to her family’s kiln.

A café opened by migrants is an old ceramic factory building
Copyright © Cecilia Luzi 2023

The stories I presented here highlight the complex nature of urban-rural migration in Japan, and at the same time, they challenge the existing labels used to describe internal migration patterns, such as U-turn, I-turn, J-turn, ijū, and teijū that do not accurately capture the intricate and multifaceted experiences of contemporary urban-rural migrants. These categories are based on geographic origins or settlement intentions and fail to comprehend the complexities of today’s migration patterns. The categories of U-turn (returning home), I-turn (moving to a new rural town), and J-turn (relocating to a different town) oversimplify the trajectories of migration. Similarly, the differentiation between ijū, which identifies the migration movement, and teijū that defines the permanent settlement, lacks nuance and is extremely subjective, making it difficult to define the experience of migrants accordingly. During my ethnography, I encountered many individuals like Hitomi, Yusuke, Nami, and Kenji, whose experiences cannot be neatly fitted into these predefined categories. The people I met showed me how the rigid boundaries within the conventional categories are, in reality, remarkably fluid. Especially when examining the experiences of individuals like Nami and Hitomi, the categorization seemed useless to me. Their stories not only demonstrate how the complexity within the “migrant” category makes these labels inconsistent, but also pushed me to question the actual distinction between “locals” and “migrants.” In Nami’s and Hitomi’s unique trajectories, the line between insider and outsider blurs and leaves me with a pressing question: what truly defines a migrant in the context of contemporary migration patterns, and how do these shifting identities influence the rural landscape?

Guest Contribution: The challenges of rural infrastructure in Japan and the importance of a driver’s license

by Leon Jordan

Access to basic services and infrastructure development are much discussed issues related to the disparities between high-tech urban cities and rural communities in Japan and to urban-rural migration. I would like to take a closer look at the importance of infrastructure and the availability of public transportation in rural areas such as Awajishima. While the infrastructure in Japan’s largest cities is second to none, public transportation in rural areas is often deficient. It is important to understand that infrastructure development has always played an important role in influencing migration patterns by bridging the gap between urban and rural areas, not only in terms of urban-rural migration in Japan. However, in the wake of rapid economic growth in Japan, it has become more difficult for private operators to provide public transportation, especially in rural areas. In addition, improved connectivity through transportation networks is shown to have a strong impact on population distribution in rural areas (Fujisaki, K. et al., 2022).

Many community busses in rural areas run only few times a day
Copyright © Cornelia Reiher 2023

I have made numerous trips to Awajishima, a rural island with a population of about 125,000 in Hyogo Prefecture. During these trips, I realized how difficult it is to rely solely on public transportation in remote regions and the crucial role a driver’s licence plays in navigating Japan’s rural landscape. Having been born and raised in Berlin, I never had to rely on a driver’s licence because I could always rely on public transportation. Before traveling to Awajishima, I was aware that traversing the island would be more difficult than traveling within larger cities like Tokyo, but I was still surprised. Awajishima is rarely accessible by train, as there are no direct train services to Awajishima, but it is easily accessible by one of the regular boat or ferry services in the far north of the island connecting Awaji to Kobe, or by bus from the south via Naruto. However, once you arrive, the options for getting around are rather limited.

The Naruto Whirlpools one may encounter on a scenic ferry ride from Naruto to Awajishima
Copyright©  Soramimi 2016

I quickly discovered that getting around without a driver’s licence was a bigger hurdle than I first thought. Awajishima is definitely travelable by bicycle and private buses (though they charge very high prices). While I was comfortable with these options to some degree on the island, I still found it difficult to really explore and get around without a driver’s licence. Public transportation is infrequent and non-existent during holidays or major festivals, which limited planning trips at those times. At first, these restrictions seemed to apply only to travelers like me, but with Awaji’s population steadily declining and aging, I learned firsthand that the elderly in particular have a hard time getting around. Long-term residents also find it difficult to access important services such as health care facilities or even grocery stores. While there is a need to improve public transportation in rural areas of Japan (see Fujisaki, K. et al., 2022), this may be more difficult in the case of Awajishima than in other areas. Many places are accessible only by narrow roads that cannot be traveled by buses. And although I felt that community-based transportation services such as ride-sharing were becoming more common in other rural areas, I could not see such a development in Awajishima. Moreover, the elderly couple I stayed with said that while such a change, or even the development of improved public transportation, would benefit some residents and travelers, they were more concerned about the loss of Awajishima’s nature and unique character.

If you don’t have a car in rural Japan, you can rent a bike or wait for the bus
Copyright© Cornelia Reiher 2023

My travels through Awajishima have not only given me the best experiences I have ever had, but also a deeper understanding of the complicated relationship between urban-rural migration and rural infrastructure. While urban areas are often the focus in discussions about development, we should definitely look at rural areas as well. I also believe that recognizing the importance of infrastructure development, particularly in the form of public transportation, in promoting connectivity and improving the quality of life in rural areas is an essential aspect of understanding urban-rural migration.

References
Fujisaki, Koichi et al. (2022) “Empirical recommendations Based on Case Studies in Japan for Sustainable Innovative Mobility in Rural Areas.”, in: Asian transport studies, 8: 100079.
Fan, S. & Chan-Kang, C. (2005) “Road development, economic growth, and poverty reduction in China.”, in: Research report – International Food Policy Research Institute, 138.

Leon Jordan is a student in the BA program in Japanese Studies at Freie Universität Berlin.

Guest Contribution: Living in a sustainable town in Japan

by Cosmo H.

Every time I hear the name of the city where I lived during my student exchange in Japan, I feel a wave of nostalgia. It has been a while since I last set foot in Japan, but the memories are still very clear. When I discussed with my mother that I would indeed prefer not to spend a year in New Zealand to “find myself,” but rather embark on a unique adventure, I was unprepared for two things: That she would d’accord and that I would end up in Fujisawa SST, a state-of-the-art, sustainable town in the middle of Fujisawa City in Kanagawa County. From January to June 2016, Fujisawa SST turned into my home, and every day into a unique experience in its own right. Yet in spite of this, I do not believe I had ever been as lazy in my whole life: With its own internal grocery store, library, vidéothèque, health facilities etc., I could run errands without ever leaving town. Within the artificial, wireless, card-controlled walls of Fujisawa SST, everything I needed was within reach, creating a sense of convenience that was hard to match. I can still remember the first morning: “Jishin da. Jishin da.” [An earthquake, an earthquake.]. It was an unusual way to start the day, but as even the earthquake radar in my host family‘s state-of-the-art home with all its the latest technology was equipped with speakers a hearty amount of decibels louder than average, I felt truly safe… and blessed.

The arch leading into the town itself.
Copyright © Keisuke Ohara 2023.

The sense of community within the town was also undeniable. Even as my language and overall communicative skills left a lot to be desired, I could not help but strike up the occasional conversation. The town had always exuded a lively and “hip” atmosphere, and from what I could gather from images, that spirit hasn’t changed over the years. Quite the opposite: It has achieved remarkable milestones since. As of September 7, 2022, the number of visitors who have taken the official tour of Fujisawa SST exceeded 35,000, a testament to its growing popularity, which is likely to grow due to the rising demand for renewable energy within the country. The commitment to sustainability is evident in Fujisawa SST‘s highest S Rank certification for Urban Development. It makes sense: Despite my admittedly passive attitude at the time towards climate-related issues, the extensive use of renewable energy stood out to me also. Solar-generated electricity, with panels on top of every house, with the added promise of powering neighboring areas in the event of an outage – The commitment to sustainable practices is commendable.

Solar panel-furnished rooftops of Fujisawa SST, construction of elder care facility.
Copyright © Keisuke Ohara 2023.

The town’s emphasis on mobility through an internal car rental delivery service, battery stations for renting rechargeable batteries, and excellent Wi-Fi infrastructure continues to contribute to a high degree of mobility and convenience for residents. Moreover, the focus on community and the provision of care facilities for the elderly showcase Fujisawa SST‘s forward-thinking approach to urban planning: A new senior residence is set to open just next year. At the time, I remember a large portion of citizens in town being parents in their mid-30s with their children, but I would not be surprised if the latest strides towards increased inclusion of the elderly encouraged also that demographic to spend their twilight years in quaint Fujisawa by the sea. What also emphasizes the town’s commitment to creating an inclusive and supportive environment, is the more recent inclusion of an English version of the promotional pamphlet online. Promoting cultural exchange in my eyes will be an essential element in combatting shōshi kōreika moving forward, so this change is greatly appreciated. However, I believe I shall refrain from „meeting, incubating and initiating“ like the pamphlet suggests I do.

At an intersection near my host parents‘ house.
Copyright © Keisuke Ohara 2023.

An additional aspect I found peculiar browsing through the updated website was the concept of “Life Record” housing records, which document house maintenance. The supposed „collection of real-life conditions“ during sleep to improve residents’ sleep cycles also echoed a somewhat Orwellian undertone. It is crucial to reflect on the ethical implications of such measures, even within the context of a technologically advanced town like Fujisawa SST, which to my knowledge, has also not been sufficiently branched out beyond the walls of Fujisawa SST itself. After seven years, I do have to admit I was hoping for more progress on a grander scale.  However, it goes without saying that the Fujisawa SST remains a remarkable achievement in forward-looking, sustainable technology that I hope will be adopted in other regions of the country in the near future.

References 
Fujisawa SST Kyōgikai (2022), „Kōshiki Kengaku Tsuaa no Kengakusha ga 35,000 Nin wo toppa!“ https://fujisawasst.com/JP/news/806/ Accessed 04.06.2023.
Fujisawa SST Council (2023), „Introducing Fujisawa Sustainable Smart Town“ https://fujisawasst.com/EN/wp_en/wp-content/themes/fujisawa_sst/pdf/FSST-ConceptBook.pdf Accessed 04.06.2023.

Cosmo H. is a student in the BA program in Japanese Studies at Freie Universität Berlin.

Are rural revitalization grants truly serving rural areas?

by Ngo Tu Thanh (Frank Tu)

Is it not somewhat paradoxical that grants intended for rural revitalization might actually benefit urban areas more? A quick look at the governance and financial structures along with interviews conducted with key policy actors in Japanese prefectures, reveals a significant urban bias. Larger municipalities frequently reap more significant benefits than their rural counterparts. This blog post highlights such urban-centric tendencies through the cases of Fukuoka and Nagasaki Prefectures.

The electoral map can be a telling indicator of governance priorities and influence. Consider Fukuoka: out of its 87 members in the Fukuoka Prefectural Assembly, almost half represent just two cities – Fukuoka City and Kitakyūshū (Fukuoka Prefectural Assembly, 2023b). Similarly, in Nagasaki Prefecture, two areas – Nagasaki City and Sasebo/Kitamatsūragun – account for 50% of the 46 members in the Nagasaki Prefectural Assembly (Nagasaki Prefectural Assembly, 2023).

A diplomatic event to promote cooperation between Kyushu and Fukuoka Prefecture with Vietnam held in Fukuoka City
Copyright © Ngo Tu Thanh 2022

Notably, both Fukuoka City and Kitakyūshū City, as well as Nagasaki City and Sasebo City, enjoy special statuses of ordinance and core cities, respectively, which afford them higher degrees of autonomy. According to interviews, these statuses also allow them to bypass prefectural administration and directly secure funding from the national government. In stark contrast, smaller municipalities often find themselves collaborating with prefectural governments, navigating bureaucratic hurdles to secure vital funds. One consequence of this urban dominance is the potential erosion of rural representation. Representation in prefectural assemblies is determined by population size, placing regions with declining populations at risk of losing their voice in the assembly. An assemblyman from Fukuoka Prefecture cited the example of Ukiha City, which was merged with Kurume due to its shrinking population, effectively losing its sole representative in the Prefectural Assembly. As urban areas like Fukuoka City continue to attract residents, concerns arise that rural areas face the threat of reduced representation and, consequently, diminished influence.

While the population and representation imbalances are troubling, the fiscal disparities further underscore the challenge. In Fukuoka Prefecture, for instance, grants for rural revitalization, including the Rural Revitalization Promotion Grant, tend to favor larger cities over rural areas. This is primarily due to the funding structure that requires a 50-50 contribution, with the national government covering half and local regions handling the rest. An official from Fukuoka Prefecture criticized this system for inherently favoring regions with substantial resources to finance multiple revitalization initiatives (11/07/2022). He also noted that Fukuoka City and Kitakyūshū City are the two municipalities that have received the most national grants due to their financial capabilities. This places financially strained rural areas at a disadvantage, limiting their ability to leverage national funding opportunities.

Does rural revitalization grants benefit Nagasaki’s urban cities more than rural areas?
Copyright © Ngo Tu Thanh 2022

Furthermore, an examination of Nagasaki Prefecture’s financial allocations underscores this bias. Nagasaki Prefecture’s 2021 financial report reveals that the majority of funds from both the national and prefectural levels flow into major cities like Nagasaki, Sasebo, Isahaya, and Ōmura. In stark contrast, smaller municipalities such as Hasami Town find themselves at the shorter end of the spectrum (Nagasaki Prefecture, 2021). These accounts raise critical questions about the objectives and consequences of rural revitalization grants. The current system, whether inadvertently or otherwise, tends to support the revitalization of already thriving urban centers rather than rural areas. The disparities between urban and rural areas in Japan’s rural revitalization efforts are glaring. There is an urgent need to reassess governance and funding mechanisms to ensure that the true spirit of “rural” revitalization is realized.

References
Fukuoka Prefectural Assembly. 2023. “Iinkai No Jōhō.” Governmental Website. https://www.gikai.pref.fukuoka.lg.jp/site/iinkai/.
Nagasaki Prefectural Assembly. 2023. “Iinkai no meibō.” Governmental Website. https://www.pref.nagasaki.jp/gikai/2010-01.html.
Nagasaki Prefecture. 2023. “Reiwa 3 nendo shichōson zaisei no gaiyō.” Governmental Website. https://www.pref.nagasaki.jp/shared/uploads/2023/03/1678947217.pdf.