Inaka Life

 

We both sighed heavily. We were next in line but the senior woman ahead of us and the cashier were having a lively chat, disregarding the time it was taking to finish checking out. My husband, Yasu and I weren’t in any particular rush ourselves, but waiting was frustrating. Yasu mumbled something about them needing to hurry up before catching himself. “Wait.” He said, “they aren’t wrong. We’re wrong. We need to slow down, like them. That’s inaka life.” I nodded in wise agreement. It was the first of many times we’d been reminded to slow down since moving out to the Japanese countryside. 

It’s been two months since moving to Eiheiji, Japan; famous for its temple and the slogan “Zen: Do you feel it?”. We arrived from Osaka without an ounce of zen in our bones and made the decision that needed to change. That wasn’t the only thing due to change though; two city folks moving out to the country meant a lot of adjustments were going to have to be made. 

Our local train station, very different from the busy subway

But first, a lot of people ask why we moved out to the countryside from the city and there were a few reasons. 

Eiheiji is a town in Fukui prefecture which is where Yasu is from and where his family lives. They’re in Sakai and Fukui City both of which are a ten to fifteen-minute drive away from us. We figured it would be nice to raise the baby near family and we weren’t wrong. 

Family BBQ

Another reason, honestly, was because of the pandemic. Covid hit us (along with many people) financially and that called for us to close up our brick-and-mortar record store to operate totally online. In Fukui, we could have a mortgage for much less than we paid for rent in Osaka and continue to work online from home saving us the cost of a physical storefront as well. The pandemic also made us wary of being in a big city. We caught ourselves growing jaded from big city life and constantly being surrounded by people. 

Moving to the countryside sure is different, though. I've only ever lived in big cities; Toronto and then Osaka. So this is a massive change for better and in some ways, for worse. But, it's been mostly for the better.

For example; we bought a traditional Japanese house which is a far cry from renting a small apartment. With a baby who's just started crawling and becoming more mobile, having more space is a wonderful thing. We also needed to get a car - as close as things are driving, the closest convenience store is still a 30+ minute walk away and the nearest mall would take nearly two hours to walk to. It's a massive change of scenery too - no more skyscrapers and cement, now our view is mountains and rice fields. We can see so many stars every night. We traded in sounds of sirens, motorcycles and loud music with the chirp of crickets, frogs and the flowing river nearby. Very zen indeed.

Back in Osaka, we had lived in our building for 3 years and in that time we only got to know and befriend one neighbour - a very kind international couple with their adorable son. But other than them, we didn’t even know anyone else’s names, nor did they ours. Our new neighbourhood consists of 12 families including us and within 24 hours of unloading the moving truck, we were given a map with everyone’s names. We were also given info about the area; garbage days, a schedule of events, and “chores” like tidying the small local shrine. This was a far cry from being so private in the city. It’s funny, we lived in a city surrounded by people yet we were totally isolated. 

Something that you do in Japan is give gifts and introduce yourself when you move somewhere new. This isn't common in a big city but in a small neighbourhood, it is customary if you want to get along with your neighbours. We loaded Yoshi into his stroller and armed with gifts wrapped in paper bearing our family name, we went door to door introducing ourselves. It felt a little bit like Trick or Treating in reverse, but it was a good way to meet everyone and begin establishing ourselves in our community. We were quickly met back by neighbours coming to our house with fresh vegetables from their farms and gardens. 

Our community is small and everyone seems to know everything about each other - which is both good and bad if you ask me. It still feels a little bit invasive at times, like when an ambulance was called to one of the other houses and everyone on the street gathered outside to find out what was going on. It can come across as nosy to me, even when it’s a sign of caring. Whenever I find myself getting annoyed or wary about how much people concern themselves with others, I remind myself there are perks. Raising a child here means I really do have a village and we have a neighbourhood looking out for him which is reassuring. 

Other adjustments have been small but mighty; bugs. I have always hated and been terrified of bugs especially spiders and bees and out here we have plenty. While I’ve yet to see a single murder hornet, I have seen plenty of spiders like the giant huntsman that ran across my pillow one week into living here. Shortly after, I met my real nemesis; the mukade. A mukade is a giant centipede that can grow as big as 20cm and packs a mighty painful and venomous bite. Trust me, you don't want to google 'mukade' unless you have nerves of steel. Thankfully, as of writing, no one in the house has been bitten but our mukade death count now stands at four. These things are very hard to kill and are very aggressive. 

I knew I'd already experienced massive personal growth when I found a small spider while folding laundry. Instead of setting my house on fire to be rid of it, I just relocated it into another room so it could eat the less desirable critters. I like to think this was a huge step into living a zen life but then again I’m not sure how zen I was when I went absolutely medieval on a mukade that my cat alerted me to at 5am the other night. 

The other major adjustment has been that I'm no longer within walking distance to places, getting anywhere really does require a car. It pains me, but sooner or later I think I will have to get my driver's license. It's kind of a necessary evil living in the mountains - close drive but too far walk to anything. The local walks I have been going on with Yoshi have been beautiful, though. The scenery is stunning and the air is so fresh. For these walks, there is no destination, it's all about the journey. 

Small-town life is slowly starting to sink in and while I haven't started any conversations with cashiers while checking out, I reckon it's only a matter of time. I may not be all the way there yet but Zen? Yeah, I feel it. 

Check out our town's theme song, I was not expecting to hear this blasting out of our local veggie delivery truck or from temples but this is it and it's been living in my head rent-free because it's so catchy.