Our team will take a break over the holidays. The blog will be back on January 12. Thank you for following our blog and for supporting our activities. Happy holidays and a happy new year!
by Lynn Ng
Digital technologies dominate a significant aspect of our daily lives, and, with infrastructural and regulatory support, hold tremendous potential in promoting Japan’s social and economic growth. Japan’s focus on improving its digital environment and governance is recently most evidenced by the nation’s well-reported organization of the Japan-EU Digital Partnership Council first held on 3 July 2023 [1]. With promises of strategic cooperation in research and development of 5G networks and digital trade principles, as well as data governance and cybersecurity, Japan (as well as the European Union) is arming itself with resources for the new digital society – or commonly referenced as “Society 5.0.”
Other preparations towards Society 5.0 include Prime Minster Fumio Kishida’s announcement of the “Vision for a Digital Garden City Nation” in 2022 [2], thereby kick-starting the rapid transformation particularly of Japan’s rural regions. Rural Japan’s digital transformation since the announcement is increasingly noticeable and has caught the attention of many contributors to this blog. Recent posts on this blog examine the emergence of smart farming, the development of digital human resources, and the potential of digital transformation in Japan’s regions. Followers of this blog would thus by now have a good grasp on what digitalization and digital transformation (DX) are, and what these keywords mean for Japan.
Fukushima is also well onto this trend. As a part of the “Vision for a Digital Garden City Nation,” cities in Fukushima prefecture host several technological and digital research facilities, one of them being the Robot Test Field (RTF) [3] in Namie-town – a town greatly affected by the nuclear disaster of 2011. RTF currently houses incredible facilities that support drones and other un-manned aerospace and deep-space, as well as underwater technological research, among many other cutting-edge technologies. RTF opened in March 2020 amidst the coronavirus pandemic. In January 2023, I visited the RTF facility and spoke with Mr. Sato, a middle-aged mechanical engineer and operations manager of the facility, about the former disaster region’s digital growth. We stood on the roof of the building, me shivering in mid-January chills, as Mr. Sato explains to me what research goes on in the different structures in the vicinity of the main building. Mr. Sato, a returnee to Namie-town, waves at the vast land earmarked for RTF developments that we stood on, and exclaimed how much the region has changed in the last two years.
But the technological transformation of Fukushima goes beyond RTF. I encountered new technologies across Fukushima prefecture, such as un-manned convenience stores, automated lawnmowers, and drones. In Namie-town, I was taught by locals how to use the shiny display panels to call for on-demand free taxi services that run across the town [4]. In Okuma-town, I watched municipal officials grab sandwiches and snacks off a shelf that they smoothly paid for using a QR code. Perhaps none of these technologies are as advanced as the deep-space research going on within RTF, but the transformation in behavior is obvious. Locals use digital technologies in their everyday lives in many parts of Fukushima. I asked a municipal officer charging his mobile at one of the many public charging posts, to which he had simply replied: “Ah right, yeah. These are just everywhere here.” Digital transformation of Japan, and any other society, involve not only the establishment of infrastructure and research of new technologies and regulations, but also the uptake of these new technologies by the people. This seems to work well in Fukushima.
[1] Digital Agency. (2023). Japan-EU Digital Partnership Council held. Retrieved online: https://www.digital.go.jp/en/7faa668c-3787-4ff8-934b-093c4d2448c5-en#main-results
[2] JapanGOV. (2022). Vision for a Digital Garden City Nation: Achieving Rural-Urban Digital Integration and Transformation. Retrieved online: https://www.japan.go.jp/kizuna/2022/01/vision_for_a_digital_garden_city_nation.html
[3] FIPO. (2023). Fukushima Robot Test Field. Retrieved online: https://www.fipo.or.jp/robot/en/overview
[4] Nissan Smart Mobility. (2023). Smart Mobility in Namie. Retrieved online: https://www.smamobi.jp/
by Sarah Clay
On a hot day in late August 2023, I take a tuk-tuk from my hotel and make my way to the outskirts of Colombo, Sri Lanka. My driver skeptically asks me if there is some sort of tourist attraction out there, and when we arrive, he waits in the vehicle until I assure him he brought me to the right place. I am here to meet Kanchana Weerakoon and to visit one of her Metta Gardens. The Metta Garden project is part of the Eco Temple Community, a network of Buddhist priests and other civil society groups all over Asia that originates in Japan and engages in environmental activities based upon beliefs of faith.
The Eco Temple Community was founded in 2015 in the context of the Interfaith Climate and Ecology Network (ICE) of the International Network of Engaged Buddhists (INEB). Key figures in shaping the project are Jonathan Watts, associate professor of Buddhist studies at Keio University in Japan, and Rev. Hidehito Okochi. Rev. Okochi is a priest of Pure Land Buddhism and has been involved with a wide range of social and environmental initiatives both in and outside of Japan. Based upon his view on Japan’s destructive economic activities and the 2011 Fukushima Triple Disaster, he turned his own Juko-in Temple and Kenji-in Temple into so-called Eco Temples. Located in downtown Tokyo, Kenji-in makes use of only natural and chemical-free building materials, while Juko-in uses renewable energy gained via solar panels on the roof of the building. In 2015, he initiated the Eco Temple working group to share insights on resiliency activities from Fukushima and on creating Eco Temples in urban Japan [1].
The first Metta Garden in Colombo started as an urban garden close to the office of Kanchana Weerakoon’s organization ECO Friendly Volunteers (ECO-V) [2]. When she bought the plot in 2013, there was only a lonely palm tree in the middle of garbage piles dumped by neighboring households. She explains that there is a connection between the outer environment and what humans have within. “If there is a dirty corner in nature, then that is also where dirty people live. […] But when it is a beautiful garden, more clean, more pure, […] then that is where the most spiritual nature is. Strong energy comes out and the plants are happy. And this is also where more content people are.” [interview Kanchana Weerakoon 25.8.2023] As Metta is the Buddhist concept of loving-kindness, Kanchana wanted to create a place for urban people to come and remember the cosmic relationship they have with the natural world.
When you enter the garden that is ca. 12 x 6 meters in size, you first need to step over a small ditch. After, there is a path made of sharp stones yet, when arriving in the garden soft grass-like plants bring relief under your feet. Kanchana explains to me that this is to remind the visitor that life is a struggle, but that relief can be found in the natural world. The garden is made as a mandala with round plant beddings in all four directions. Each bedding and its plants are connected to an element; tomatoes and peppers represent fire, cabbage water, and the hardness of guava represent the earth. Metta Garden is a sensory garden. The plants are chosen to tickle your senses with their colors, structures, smells, sounds, and tastes. 90% has medicinal properties, and visitors are always encouraged to eat a lot of what they see. In the middle of the garden Kanchana planted a cherry tree that she feels represents herself. She explains to me that in Buddhism the middle is the connection point, it is where you can see both sides. As this cherry tree gives fruits the whole year round, there is always enough for both animals and humans, taking away any hierarchies.
In the days that followed, Kanchana showed me more Metta Gardens that were created in Colombo in the previous years. Some are private gardens, some are publicly owned, but all are designed as a Buddhist mandala and grown without the use of any pesticides. One visit brings us to a home garden in a busy Colombo district of a man who moved to Italy many years ago. He keeps his house as a holiday home and another family lives there to take care of the building in the meantime. Kanchana explains that she created a mandala garden with smaller beddings, so the man can walk through easily and meditate.
Another garden belongs to a newly found center for the empowerment of women. This garden is designed especially as a fruit and vegetable garden, to provide healthy food to pregnant women and children amidst Sri Lanka’s persistent economic crisis. There are various moringa trees, guavas, and banana plants as well as all kinds of nutritious vegetables. A sunflower blooms in the middle of the mandala, representing joy and happiness.
Kanchana’s Metta Gardens are indeed small spaces of joy and happiness in a highly urbanized environment. What I find so fascinating is that it is never only about the environment; the idea is that by nurturing the outer world, also the inner world gets nourished. Thus, while Metta Gardens are a reaction to the environmental degradation that is so present in Colombo these days, they are equally created to positively contribute to Sri Lanka’s social issues. This challenges the conceptual dichotomy of society and the natural world. Metta Garden also illustrates that projects that are part of the Eco Temple Community are always transnational and local at once. All projects share an understanding of Buddhist concepts and the tasks that religious practitioners have in this world. Although originating in Japan, these forms of knowledge are translated differently in the various sites according to the social and environmental needs that exist on the ground. As such, they provide insights into the ways in which religious traditions gain different meanings and practices according to time and place.
[1] website Eco Temple Community Development Project https://eco-temple.net/
[2] website Eco-Friendly Volunteers https://eco-v.org/metta-garden/
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.
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.”
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 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.
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?
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.
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.
by Tobias Gentsch
During my university exchange to Japan from April 2022 to March 2023, I lived in Okayama City, which is located in Okayama Prefecture in western Japan. Although many of my fellow Japanese students described the city with its 700,000 inhabitants as a rural area (inaka), I wanted to experience “real rural Japan.” Therefore, I made many trips to different areas of Okayama Prefecture where I could see how farming is done in Japan, and once I even had the opportunity to talk to some farmers during their break at a small farm store (michi no eki). When we talked about urban-rural migrants in Japan during a seminar by Cornelia Reiher, my experiences in rural Okayama were the reason why I decided to find out more about urban-rural migration in Okayama Prefecture.
Rice field in front of the student-shared house in Okayama
Copyright © Tobias Gentsch 2022
Like most other prefectures, Okayama runs a website for people thinking of moving to rural Okayama. There you can find many interviews of migrants who tell their story and give some tips for other people who want to relocate. I selected two families who moved to rural Okayama and while they are very different, they also have some things in common. The first family is a mixed couple. She is from Japan and he is from the United States. They have three young children and used to live in New York before deciding to move to the small town of Wake in eastern Okayama Prefecture. They telecommute as VFX designers and web designers. The reason they moved to Wake is that they like the education system in Japan, which is also cheaper than in the United States. They explain that tuition in the United States is too expensive to raise three children. At the same time, they wanted their children to grow up in a quiet, green, and healthy environment. In New York, they describe, it is often too noisy and they cannot concentrate or relax. So they decide to move to a rural area of Japan, where they also like the scenery and nature. They really like living in Wake because of nature and because they can relax there. [1]
Typical scene of the landscape of rural Okayama
Copyright © Tobias Gentsch 2022
The second family moved from Osaka to Kibichuo, which is about 50 km northwest of Okayama City. They are introduced via video on the YouTube channel of Okayama Prefecture. While sitting in front of horses, they explain why they moved to rural Okayama. The man used to work as a systems engineer at a company in Osaka. In his spare time, he often attended horse races. While spending time there, he decided to change his life and do something related to horses. He found out that there are old or debilitated racehorses that are killed because they can no longer be used as racehorses. So he decided to start a horse farm that would give these horses a place to live and looked for land big enough for this purpose and finally found some suitable places. The family visited these places and finally decided to move to Kibichuo. Today, they not only run a horse farm, but also a riding school, where especially children can learn to ride. [2]
Horses need a lot of space, which is usually not available in urban areas.
Copyright © Cornelia Reiher 2021
The motivations of the two families to move to rural Okayama are quite different. The first family moved to rural Okayama for their children’s education and because they prefer to live in nature, while the second family moved because the father decided to change his profession. The lifestyles of the two families are also very different. While the first family is still working in their old profession, the second family changed their profession completely. However, the reasons why both families chose to live where they do now are the same: the local community welcomed them. Both families report that they talked to nice administrative staff in their new places of residence. They helped them with problems and made initial contacts within the local community. As a result, both families are now integrated into the local community, which they both describe as necessary for successful migration. This shows that not only physical things like good infrastructure or financial support are important for rural migrants, but also friendliness of the administrative staff and the local community. This is probably not only true for Okayama, but could also apply to other rural areas in Japan. This is a topic I would like to do more research on in the future.
References
[1] Office of Migration Promotion, Wake Town Hall; ijūsha intabyū; https://www.town.wake.lg.jp/wakesum/wsWakechoumin/11415/ last view 05.05.2023.
[2] Okayama Migration Support Channel; Okayama-ken, senpai ijūsha intabyū: kibichuo-machi de no kurashi, bokujō kēēhen; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GNmgwiXcnJ4&list=PLT3NosWvKCmwZgiC_NnIgsDj0SnSeU0bp&index=8 last view: 14.6.2023.
Tobias Gentsch is a student in the BA program in Japanese Studies at Freie Universität Berlin.
by Cecilia Luzi
One Sunday morning in mid-April, during my fieldwork in Hasami, I took my family to the “Takeo Ureshino Märchen Village” Amusement Park. It is an amusement park with a German name and Central European village atmosphere built in 1992. I had stumbled upon it on Google Maps and the bright pictures of a giant squirrel and a pink Ferris wheel had caught my attention. According to the website, the park has 1,000 free parking spaces and was designed for elementary school-aged children on a fairytale theme. It has a variety of attractions, including merry-go-rounds, an electric train, play areas with slides and swings, a large tent where kids could play with tricycles and bicycles and an area with small animals like squirrels, rabbits and two goats. We had a lot of fun running around the attractions, playing with a tricycle, taking the small train twice in a row, and feeding the rabbits with some lettuce. The sensory experience was also overwhelming. The constant jingles from the rides mixed with the joyful cries of children and the voices of parents, while the scent of animals seamlessly transitioned to that of fried food wafting from the various food stalls and the fast-food restaurant on the hill. Most of the visitors were young families with parents in their twenties and two or three kids. They were often accompanied by grandparents who patiently waited for their grandchildren to tire out while sitting under the shade of some large trees.
The giant squirrel at the entrance of the park.
Copyright © Cecilia Luzi 2023
Nevertheless, it was impossible for us to overlook the signs of decay: weathered characters and fading buildings, rusty attractions, a fenced-off swimming pool with greenish water overrun by weeds, abandoned buildings, and half-empty animal cages. When we arrived, we found a vast, deserted parking lot along the main road leading to the park entrance with faded white lines that once had marked parking spaces. The parking area near the main gate was half empty with cracked pavement, overgrown plants, and barely discernible ropes outlining parking spaces.
A view of the park’s rusty attractions and dirty roofs.
Copyright © Cecilia Luzi 2023
As I traveled back and forth by car between Hasami and Buzen, my two research field sites, I crossed northern Kyūshū from coast to coast. Along the way, I passed through numerous towns and villages nestled among mountains, far away from major cities, highways, and railways. My eyes had grown accustomed to the persistent signs of decay that is now a familiar sight in rural Japan. Many of the buildings that were once schools, factories, warehouses, pachinko slots, restaurants, and tourist destinations now lay empty or in a state of disrepair. Akiya are not the only markers of depopulation in rural Japan. Today, abandoned infrastructures, entertainment venues, and public spaces also serve as a monumental reminder of a once-thriving and prosperous past. In those days, even the most remote areas were bustling with construction projects aimed at meeting the needs of a rural population that was still vibrant.
A renovated old post office next to an abandoned building in Nakatsu, Oita prefecture.
Copyright © Cecilia Luzi 2023
In my travels through rural areas in various parts of Japan, I have witnessed this scenario of decay throughout the country. It’s hard not to feel a sense of nostalgia and melancholy when confronted with abandoned rice paddies, fallow fields, deserted villages, and the slow decay of once magnificent wooden houses. I often wonder how hard it must be for those who call these places home to watch their hometowns slowly disappear. But I found the most serene perspective among the older residents who had spent their entire lives in these villages. They have witnessed significant changes throughout their lives and seem to view the current decline as if it were just another natural event accompanying them. An 80-year-old man in Buzen told me, “Life here is hard. There are no services, and the nearest supermarket is 25 minutes away by car. Why would a young person who has a life in the city want to live here? In ten years, this village will disappear, there’s nothing we can do about it, and that’s fine.” In the eyes of some residents, the depopulation we are seeing today is just another development of rural Japan. It is not necessarily something they can or want to reverse. Their view goes beyond resignation; they accept how things are evolving and acknowledge the flow of life in these remote areas.
by Joane Opfer
Due to Japan’s shrinking and aging society, there is an immense shortage of technically qualified workers in Japan. This problem is particularly evident in rural Japan. To create a modern society, a digital transformation is necessary and the Japanese government has made digital transformation, or DX, a central point of its policy and is promoting the further development of computer and communications technologies. Against the backdrop of the Corona pandemic, DX was promoted more vehemently, while at the same time, bureaucratic procedures and even communication between various government agencies were hampered by the lack of digital technology. For example, many documents still require the hanko, an individual stamp, and communication between different departments was not possible due to the lack of a unified video conferencing system. [1]
The Japanese government hopes that labor shortages and other problems can be solved through digital transformation
Copyright © Cornelia Reiher 2023
The Japanese government has issued a digitalization strategy, the Digital National Garden City Concept (Dejitaru denen toshi kokka kōsō), which aims to develop a more advanced technical infrastructure at multiple levels. It sets out how the Japanese government will implement digital transformation over the next five years and is intended to guide local governments in building a better digital infrastructure. Developing digital human resources, i.e., a skilled, knowledgeable digital workforce, is central to the strategy. The policy promises to support the development of digital human resources. Therefore, the dissemination of information about career paths in the digital sector will be expanded and information about online learning platforms and financial support will be made more readily available. This will include e-learning opportunities, especially for women with children. In addition, vocational training in the digital sector is also supported with subsidies. Prefectures and their respective governments will be supported in building up their digital resources. This can take the form of training offers or support for local companies or initiatives. In addition, positive examples will serve as guidance for other prefectures. [2]
Oita Prefecture is famous for its hot springs and promotes itself as onsen prefecture
Copyright © Cornelia Reiher 2023
One example of such a successful initiative is the Oita Creative Academy, or OCA for short. It is a vocational school that focuses on teaching IT-related knowledge. The courses range from web engineering and design to photographic technology. It advertises its flexible admissions policies and customizable courses. The school says it is willing to adapt and improve to meet the needs of its students. Students vary massively in background and profession, from stay-at-home moms to newcomers, and even government employees are enrolled. The teachers are employed in the IT industry in Oita, which the school touts as a great advantage as they can act as mentors and guide the students.
Since the Corona pandemic, the school has expanded its courses to online formats, which not only allows for easier access, but also increases the total number of students enrolled. As described in the government paper, this could also be a way to allow others, such as mothers with young children, to take their courses. The OCA is not the only established initiative aimed at transforming Oita into a city with a significant IT industry. Many initiatives have emerged with Oita-based IT companies to further transform Oita. Already established IT companies have joined forces to help each other and share knowledge, especially with regard to the next generations of digital human resources. This is not only to help keep the companies alive, but also to attract new companies to Oita and make Oita a leading IT city. [3]
In cities like Oita and Beppu steam is used to warm people’s feet at free ashi mushi places
Copyright © Cornelia Reiher 2022
By supporting these companies and their efforts to develop a diverse skilled workforce willing to stay in rural areas by developing the areas themselves, the Japanese government tries to take steps to overcome their problems. Implementation of the DX strategy could help cities such as Oita to attract young, skilled people and stop rural depopulation. It can also help build educational institutions and subsequently create a workforce that will help Japan be globally compatible. The government’s strategy makes clear what is considered necessary to achieve DX and how local governments can apply for financial support. By making the development of a digitally skilled workforce a key point of the strategy, the implementation of DX can be further advanced. However, it remains to be seen to what extent the Japanese government can achieve the goals it has set for itself and how problems such as the lack of technical hardware and the shortage of workers, can be overcome.
References
[1] Schaede, U. & Shimizu, K. (2022), “The Digital Transformation and Japan’s Political Economy.” Cambridge University Press.
[2] Cabinet Office of Japan (2022), “Dejitaru denen toshi kokka kōsō [Digital National Garden City Concept].”https://www.cas.go.jp/jp/seisaku/digital_denen/pdf/20221223_honbun.pdf, last viewed on July 09th, 2023.
[3] Furuya, Fuuka (2021), “Onsen no machi kara IT no machi e: Kagi wa kigyō renkei to jinzai ikusei” [Von einer Onsenstadt zu einer IT-Stadt: Der Schlüssel liegt in der Zusammenarbeit von Unternehmen und der Ausbildung von Fachkräften], in Turns 54, pp. 54-59.
* Joane Opfer is a student in the BA program in Japanese Studies at Freie Universität Berlin.
by Cornelia Reiher
Susanne Klien is a professor at Hokkaido University and the author of the book Urban Migrants in Rural Japan: Between Agency and Anomie in a Post-growth Society (2020). She has supported our project from the beginning and participated in several of our events. In August 2023, Susanne came to Berlin again to participate in our PhD workshop “Urban-Rural Migration in Japan” at Freie Universität Berlin. I took the opportunity to interview her for our blog and talked to her about rural Japan research, urban-rural migration and the future of rural areas.
Susanne Klien at FU Berlin’s campus in 2023
Copyright © Cornelia Reiher 2023
Cornelia Reiher: When did you start researching rural Japan and why?
Susanne Klien: That was quite a long time ago. I think it was in the early 2000s when I had the opportunity to do research on the Echigo-Tsumari Art Triennale and that was my introduction to rural Japan. I was very fascinated by older farmers and people living in the countryside. I never had the opportunity to talk to these people before, and it gave me a completely different view of Japan. Japan is often associated with the gaming industry, with cosplay, with everything that is somehow urban or thought to be urban, but I think it’s very important to explore Japan from a rural point of view as well. I would say that the rural is often associated with agriculture and with older people, but recently there are also many other aspects of rural life that could be urban as well, so I would be very careful about defining rural Japan as related to the past. I would even argue that rural Japan can in some ways be seen as the future of Japan because we have severe depopulation in Japan and this is a problem that will be a problem for all developed countries in the future. So we could even consider rural Japan as the vanguard of contemporary Japan.
”[R]ural Japan can in some ways be seen as the future of Japan.”
Copyright © Cornelia Reiher 2022
Cornelia Reiher: You have been doing research in rural Japan for many years. Have you noticed any changes or new developments during this time?
Susanne Klien: Yes, big changes. I think there are a lot of funding opportunities, and that has led to more and more people going to rural Japan. They try to live in rural Japan, even if they are not so interested in rural areas at first. But eventually, they like it there very much and they stay there. So there is a larger number of people who move to rural Japan, including people who like city life very much. But they find, especially during and after the pandemic, that living in rural areas with fewer people, more space and easier access to food has many advantages. Especially in urban areas, food can be scarce, for example, during a disaster. I think living in rural Japan can also give people a sense of security.
Cornelia Reiher: You mentioned that many people move from the cities to the countryside. What role do these urbanites moving to the countryside play in the future of rural Japan?
Susanne Klien: I think they can help local people see their villages, their places, from a new perspective. They can help them understand what makes their places attractive to newcomers. I think they can also help to reinterpret local food. By using local ingredients, newcomers can contribute a lot beyond the economic sphere, for example in terms of intergenerational exchange. Newcomers can cook and eat with the elderly and offer new perspectives to older people who normally don’t meet so many young people. I think urban-rural migration has many advantages.
Cornelia Reiher: Many young scholars are now interested in rural Japan. Do you have any advice to them? Is there anything they should look out for when studying rural Japan?
“[Newcomers] can help local people see their villages, their places from a new perspective.”
Copyright © Cornelia Reiher 2022
Susanne Klien: I think there are many issues to think about. More research needs to be done on many aspects of rural Japan, but I think one topic that is particularly pressing is human and non-human entanglements. For example, research on rural Japan from a non-human perspective or on the nature of exchanges between humans and non-humans in rural Japan is very interesting. But also dealing with exhaustion, a sense of fatigue and tiredness during fieldwork in rural Japan is important because these are problems many researchers have experienced, I think.
Cornelia Reiher: Thank you so much.
