The lower level is devoted to vegetables, yams, grains such as wheat, millet, and barley, and fibers such as hemp and cotton, while the higher, steeper slopes can be used for orchards—apples, persimmons, peaches, mikan—as well as tea and mulberry bushes (to feed silkworms). These dry fields may be small enough to be considered family garden plots and satisfy subsistence and community needs alone, but where resources and market size allow, they may develop into truly commercial-scale activity. Many such crops can be grown with rainfall alone, but these fields must also be provided with a water supply, usually in the form of spring-fed ponds or additional wells (with the approval and assistance of the village well association, or igumi). In extreme cases, farmers resort to water lifting devices or buckets hauled by human power.
The hundred or so houses of the village are grouped in loose clusters, with one cluster of about twenty houses here at one end of the valley, along both sides of the dirt road we are following as it descends from the hillside. Somewhat uniform in size and general configuration, they nevertheless present great variety in detail and in the particulars of their layout. While in some regions multistoried farmhouses are the norm, here they are all essentially single-storied buildings with occasional second-story additions and other modifications, sheltered under thick, steep thatch roofs.
Homesteads consist of several related buildings arrayed around a roughly rectangular work yard. The largest structure, the house, is placed on the northern side of the yard, so that it will receive maximum southern exposure. The complex is not fully enclosed but is rather loosely delineated by the buildings themselves, some hedges, a few low walls and pathways, a small garden, a simply marked open gateway, as well as a line of sugi trees that appear to have been placed as a windbreak. It seems less of an architecturally designed unit than an incrementally evolved one, and in fact over the course of one hundred and fifty years it has undergone significant change and adjustment.
There is almost as much variety in the type, size, and placement of outbuildings among the various homesteads as there is among the houses themselves. Here as elsewhere, pragmatism and frugality rule. The wealthier farmers are likely to have a two-storied, whitewashed, fireproof storehouse for valuables and records. There is at least one family with a small, open-sided smithy, where others come to have tools repaired or hardware made. In some cases, home industries like weaving or brewing warrant the construction of extra work sheds and storage.
the homestead of the first-born son
We are on our way to the house of a man named Shinichi. Like most peasants, Shinichi has no family name, and though this sometimes leads to confusion, each family has other identifiers: the location of their homestead—near the bamboo grove, along the river, uphill from the well; dominant features of their house—a large roof, board fence, big storehouse; or job identifiers—roofers, carvers, smiths. Shinichi’s name means “Shin’s first-born son,” and there’s only one person who fits this description in this village.
Shinichi’s homestead is typically modest, with a simple open-sided shed for firewood, another for drying heaps of straw for household use, a green fertilizer shed, one for composting night soil, a small shed for ashes, and another for storing the bales of rice that represent a year’s ration for the family. There are simple roofed storage racks for ladders and bamboo poles, for buckets, lumber, and miscellany. Other homesteads may have special storage buildings for soy sauce and miso, for cotton or other cottage industries, or special work sheds. These outbuildings are usually dirt-floored.
Noticeably absent are large barns or separate stables. Very little meat is consumed, and no dairy products, and the use of draft animals as aids to farm labor has gradually declined to the point where it is extremely uncommon, largely because acreage cannot be spared for growing feed. Stable space for those families that possess a horse or an ox (about 10 percent of the total population) is often integrated into the main house, but a stable may also be combined with one or more of the other work functions.
Shinichi’s young son spots us and runs to announce our arrival. His father emerges from the house, wiping his hands on his short cotton tunic. His legs are bare because it is summer and, like most of the men and boys in the village, he wears only a loincloth under the tunic.
He welcomes us with excitement, and with his wife, Misaki, leads us to the well. She draws a bucket of water and hands us a wooden dipper. The water is clear and nearly ice cold, and we all express our appreciation and compliments, exchanging a moment of social ritual that establishes good will and gratitude for natural abundance. As Misaki hurries back into the house to prepare tea, we sit outside on a rough bench with our host.
The well we have drunk from is a roofed structure, with room for three or four people to haul water, wash vegetables, or fill tubs. A shallow wooden splash basin catches runoff, which drains into a simple stone-lined channel leading to a small pond. This pond, partly functional, partly ornamental, is manmade, and it is carefully sited to collect drainwater from the entire site, though many farmhouses are sited to take advantage of existing natural ponds.
Considering the heavy rainfall that Japan experiences, providing adequate drainage is high on the list of farm design requirements. The homestead is therefore provided with two sources of water, one potable (the well), and one for general use (the pond). Wastewater is collected to become part of the general use. Some villages have the additional benefit of nearby natural rivers and streams or engineered water supplies, use of which may be approved for households. Many villages have communal washing streams, and it is not uncommon to see baskets suspended in the irrigation culverts running alongside homes, to cool and preserve vegetables. But unlike the communal systems, household water supplies must be provided and maintained by each individual family.
The dirt-floored work yard occupies a little more ground area than the main house. It is a true multipurpose space for almost any farm activity that is better done outdoors. We see wash hung out to dry and racks of vegetables drying in the sun. This is also where carpentry and repairs take place. One end of the yard is devoted to a small kitchen garden and a compost heap for mulch. In particular, though, the area must be large enough for threshing and winnowing large quantities of rice after harvest.
The house is over one hundred years old, and it bears its age handsomely. Venerable and spacious, in materials and coloration it is fully of a piece with its surroundings. The thick thatch roof is massive