A very unusual family

For the most part Japanese people are focused on new things. They are hooked by the latest gadgets, the most recent conveniences, up-to-the-minute fashions, modernized homes, and the newest model cars. The latest. The best. Image. Identity.

On rare occasions, however, I get to meet someone outside that focused desire for material newness. The other day I was invited to a young couple’s home in the country. The husband, Ken, grew up in Tokyo. He was always fascinated by Spain, so after high school headed there for a stint to learn about life and himself. About other cultures, too. And in the process how to cook Iberian dishes. Later he returned to Japan and worked in various offices, even for a local government. But his heart was always in the countryside. He had loved animals and the out-of-doors since he was a child. And the longer he worked in offices, the more he longed for the country.

So, when he married, he and his wife, Toshiko, decided to buy land deep in the mountains. They found an old house with the original mud walls and thought it perfect. It soon was theirs and they set about reworking it into what is now a kind of eccentric museum manifesting their every fantasy. They named their dream home Casa de Saca, “House on a Hill”. That blended Ken’s interests perfectly. Casa reminded him of Spain. Saca meant hill in Japanese. And of course there are touches of other places, too, all adding to the underlying sense of inclusiveness. A truly eclectic place.

The rooms are small and crowded with violins on the wall, Spanish earthenware dishes on the shelves, pictures, books, toys, and ancient cupboards, old put-bellied stoves and hibachi for basic winter heating.

The bathtub is heated by Papa-cut wood and is outside. There is a tin roof over it for times of rain or snow. But otherwise, it is exposed to the elements. There is an outhouse at the other end of the property with narrow brick pathways leading from one of those necessities to the other. Along that “Spanish hacienda-looking” route are things to entertain, such as a kids’ playhouse, a bar (come to life when they have parties), several sheds, and a small barn.

Beyond that cluttered maze are the family compost heap and a bamboo grove, where the seven-year-old daughter goes with an enormous axe daily in summer to hack out shoots. They eat those, of course, plus vegetables from their garden, eggs from their chickens, and meat from town. They also drink fresh mountain water from their spring.

There are animals, too. A donkey, chickens, dogs, and cats. At night fox come for the chickens, who are locked up for safety, and monkeys come anytime to snitch fruit and berries.

There are four lively, healthy, self-confident children, whom the father calls his pumpkin seeds. “Here comes my number three pumpkin seed. Come here to Papa, my boy!” There is a TV and a phone (old), but the kids use their imaginations and have the run of the place, so are perfectly happy devising their own entertainment. When I was there, they fashioned a ball from wadded up newspapers wrapped in shiny red paper. They spent a good part of the afternoon kicking that around as they shouted and laughed with one another. They also make a band using sticks on old drums, harmonicas, and a piano that was too large for the house. It was wedged against the wall, facing into the living room, so all the kids had to do was to open the window and play while standing inside the house. They sang and danced and ran around and entertained themselves without complaints. The vividness of their imaginations was fabulous and very hopeful.

Each one of these precious creatures had been born at home. A midwife came for the first. Ken helped and also observed very carefully. The next three he delivered himself using a huge pair of scissors he had brought back from Spain. There are so few children left in rural Japan these days that many schools are closing down. So, in the future maybe this little band of youngsters will get home schooling to complement their home birthing.

To earn money Ken works for an eye doctor making glasses. He also cooks Spanish food for restaurants and various events. He helps out neighbors, who in term help him. His wife works in a shop. And of course, they open their marvelous home for weddings, parties, or blue grass jam sessions. They make ends meet. People give them things they no longer need, which are very imaginatively transformed in some way to fit into their merry, bubbling house. They live a very rich life.

Ken says, “Nothing is rubbish. We collect what others don’t want and go from there. Its fun using our imagination to see what will emerge for the things we get. People waste so much, buy too often, and lose their imagination, creativity, and soul in the process.”

Added to that, their friend remarked, “These guys will survive when a big earthquake hits. We probably won’t, but they surely will.”

Spending a day in such a creative, fun-filled, flexible environment was a real thrill for all of us “city folks”. And so rare. What kids nowadays have a chance to be themselves, to be so spontaneous, to run freely in nature, and to be totally loved and accepted in the process?

And what adults have the courage and the know-how to live the dreams that come to them, as they come to them, and to be totally trusting of the ongoing mystery and process of creation?