Rice 101

Before I came to Japan, I didn't have much respect for rice. Most of the rice I'd eaten in the U.S. had been mushy and without much flavor - I much preferred pasta or bread.

Of course in Japan, rice is king. No meal is complete without rice, and the Japanese seem to have a special fondness for their staple food that's beyond anything Americans feel for our cuisine. As one Japanese woman told me, "Even if we have plenty of other food, without rice, we feel like we do not have enough to eat." Even beyond cuisine, rice occupies a privileged place in Japanese culture. In Japanese, the kanji, Chinese character, for man (男) combines the characters for rice paddy (田) and power (カ) - so maleness literally translates to power for the rice paddy. And in general, the character for rice paddy is used in most words or expressions related to rural life - field (畑), village (里), hometown (田舎). The traditional religion Shinto also uses rice, either the grains itself or the straw, as sacred offerings and as a symbol to mark barriers between the external world and the sacred grounds of shrines.

A tori (the barrier marking the entrance of a Shinto shrine) in Takayama adorned with a rice-straw rope

So even though younger Japanese are eating less and less rice (largely due to the influence of Western culture - including the U.S. government's decision during the post-war occupation to add bread to school lunch menus), rice is still an everyday part of living in Japan. As the farm is now starting to prepare for this year's rice crop, I'd like to share a little of what I've learned about rice during my six months in Japan.

First of all, there are several different varieties of the plant itself. Today, most Japanese farmers grow only japonica, which is the short-grain, slightly sticky variety that most of us associate with sushi. Japonica can be eaten as either brown rice (simply removed of its chaff, or outer husk) or white rice (with the bran, the inner husk and the germ, removed by a polishing process). While most people prefer white japonica, unpolished brown japonica has a higher nutritional value. Japonica also comes in a stickier variety, called mochigome, which is used to make the traditional sweet rice cakes known as mochi. In addition to japonica, Japan also produces several heirloom varieties of rice, including black rice and red rice. Of all the varieties, red rice is by far my favorite - it has a lovely bran-like, almost nutty, taste and a slightly sticker texture than normal japonica. Unfortunately, it's also the rarest variety. Even many Japanese had never had red rice before coming to ARI.

Besides being the staple carbohydrate, rice is also processed to create any number of sweets and snacks. Mochigome is pounded into mochi (see pictures below), which can be eaten in any number of ways - as daifuku (my favorite! Soft mochi dumplings with sweet filling), in savory soups, or even with ice cream. Rice is also processed into rice flour, which is used to make sweet dango dumplings or crunchy senbei rice crackers. And of course, we mustn't forget sake, rice wine, which still seems to be the national favorite when it comes to alcohol.

Benjamin (Germany) merrily pounding the mochi during our community mochi-making in January

Aya (Japan) making dumplings from the pounded mochi in the kitchen

An example of traditional mochi sweets (the pink cakes wrapped in leaves on the right) from our inn in Nagano. Delicious!

Colorful kegs of sake at a Shinto shrine in Tokyo

So back to ARI: The rice won't be transplanted to the paddies until May, but we've already started preparing the paddies and the seedlings for the growing season. The farm section worked throughout the winter digging irrigation ditches in the newest ARI paddy; we collected and sieved paddy soil to use for the rice seedlings; and we've already released aigamo (a flightless breed of duck) into one of the paddies as weed management. This weekend, we also selected the rice seeds for the year from the unhusked grains remaining from last year's harvest. Usually, you can use around 30% of harvested rice as seeds for the next crop. This coming week, the farm section will sow the seedlings in the greenhouse, where they can grow in comfort until transplanting in May.

Gussan (Japan) releasing the aigamo into the paddy

As the rice season approaches, I'm constantly surprised, even amazed, by the importance many of the Japanese at ARI attach to the rice harvest. For them, growing rice is about more than just providing food - it's an activity of emotional importance. As the Japanese crops manager told me last week, "To me, sowing the rice every year is a special chance. Who knows how many times in our lives we will have the chance to sow rice - maybe 50, maybe 60 times?" He said he understands other crops, but "rice is a mystery to me. [Even after several years growing rice,] I still don't understand how it works."

Although I don't quite understand the connection he feels to rice, it makes me think that I should be more aware of and more thankful for the food I eat. As we say before every meal in Japan, itadakimasu! (Thank you for what I am about to receive)

Back in Tochigi...

My dad left Japan last week, after a whirl-wind tour that included Tokyo, Nagano prefecture, and ARI. We saw a traditional kabuki performance at Tokyo's most famous theater; we toured plum-blossom bedecked shrines and moss-covered temples; we saw the famous onsen monkeys of Nagano; we ate more delicious Japanese food than we should have (including parts of tuna that I didn't even know were edible...). And my dad worked as a volunteer at ARI for one day, joining the daily farm work and helping us put up greenhouses for the spring seedlings. It was wonderful to spend some time with family after five months apart, and I really enjoyed showing my dad around my new home.

Part of our traditional kaiseki dinner in Nagano

Monkey!

Exploring the mossy Buddhist temples of Kamakura

Matsumoto castle in Nagano prefecture

In front of the central Shinto shrine in Kamakura

Shibuya crossing, Tokyo in the rain

Watching my dad, the ever-curious and ever-adventurous, explore Japan reminded me that my year at ARI is a precious opportunity to explore, to grow, to get out there and try new things. He saw every experience during our trip as a way to learn more about Japan and about how the Japanese view the world. Even the most mundane daily activities - riding the bus, pushing our way through a crowded Tokyo subway station, eating ramen noodles - became a way to explore Japanese culture. His excitement and curiosity made me realize that I'd become somewhat passive during the slow and sometimes lonely winter months at ARI. I missed my friends and family at home, I was a little bored with winter farm work (not as active or as fun as growing-season work), and I started to just drift. My dad's fresh enthusiasm reminded me that I need to make the most of my time in Japan with this amazing group of people - otherwise I'll have missed an invaluable opportunity.

So now I'm getting psyched again. My roommate and I are starting to plan our individual vegetable plot (squash, snow peas, bell peppers?), which I'm hoping to manage using natural farming methods that don't rely on compost or heavy cultivation so that I can transfer my experience to the U.S. next year. I'm continuing to work on my Japanese (にほんごを　べんきょうしる). I'm enjoying doing yoga every day with several other volunteers. And, as always, I'm continuing to learn about food, food security, and what "development" means for people around the world. The new class of participants arrive in just three weeks, and the sakura (cherry) blossoms will be coming just behind them - it's a time of new beginnings, and I'm excited to see what the next months have in store for me.

Spring!

Spring has sprung at ARI! I've been enjoying the small joys of the changing seasons: eating a sweet, sweet carrot pulled fresh from the field; feeling the sun on my arms for the first time in months; smelling that subtle spring scent in the air. As farm works starts to begin again in earnest, I realize how much I've learned from ARI. Not only am I more knowledgeable about farming and international development, I'm also much more physically confident than I was five months ago. I can milk a cow. I can drive stick (I've come a long way since this past summer, when my intrepid teacher had to grab the wheel to prevent me from backing into a fence... Now I get to tool around town in a beat-up Toyota pick-up, running farm errands among the 7-11's and karaoke bars). I can plow a field. I can deal with hungry pigs, flighty chickens, and feisty calves. I feel comfortable here, sometimes to a degree that surprises me.

I'll be away from ARI and this blog for about a week - my father is coming to Japan! He'll make an appearance at ARI as a working visitor, so maybe I'll have some good stories for my next post...

Food for thought

At ARI, we talk a lot about food - about food production, access to food, food consumption, food culture. Underneath all the discussions of how to raise tomatoes or chickens, of how to process miso or kiwi jam, lies the Big Question: How can we achieve sustainability in food production? Will the earth be able to support the next generation?

I found an interesting article published by Science that gives an overview of the sustainability question and proposes some possible paths to future food security. One path involves closing the "yield gap," the "the difference between realized productivity and the best that can be achieved using current genetic material and available technologies and management." As the article explains,

"Low yields occur because of technical constraints that prevent local food producers from increasing productivity or for economic reasons arising from market conditions. For example, farmers may not have access to the technical knowledge and skills required to increase production, the finances required to invest in higher production (e.g., irrigation, fertilizer, machinery, crop-protection products, and soil-conservation measures), or the crop and livestock varieties that maximize yields. After harvest or slaughter, they may not be able to store the produce or have access to the infrastructure to transport the produce to consumer markets... It has been estimated that in those parts of Southeast Asia where irrigation is available, average maximum climate-adjusted rice yields are 8.5 metric tons per hectare, yet the average actually achieved yields are 60% of this figure… Substantially more food, as well as the income to purchase food, could be produced with current crops and livestock if methods were found to close the yield gaps."

ARI is trying to close the yield gap by teaching farmers about more efficient methods of rice cultivation, more effective means of fertilizer application, more lucrative ways of processing and storing harvested crops. Sustainability must start at the local level of individual farmers and individual farms. As one staff member told me, "It's not about feeding the world, it's about feeding one community at a time." I'm still unsure what I think about food security issues (particularly about the ability of organic farming to feed communities on a large scale), but I feel lucky to live in a community where I have the opportunity to reevaluate my relationship with food.

Winterlude

It's been a quiet week at ARI. The winter vegetables sit half-frozen in their beds, and the staff and volunteers scurry around campus with their shoulders hunched against the cold. ARI seems to conserving energy for the work that will begin again in April, when the next class of participants arrive.

But farm work continues! Wheat and garlic are quietly growing in the fields, and we continue to harvest carrots and broccoli. Mostly, we're preparing the fields for the next growing season (digging irrigation ditches in the rice paddies, cleaning fields of plant debris, applying compost, making organic fertilizer) and processing the crops from last season (sorting red beans and black beans, drying sweet potatoes and radishes). We've also been helping out the livestock section. Last week, I helped weigh the pigs, pack silage (fermented corn feed for the animals during the winter months), and transfer chicks from the hatching house to the chicken pen. So I'm getting more familiar with the animals - this suburban girl can now catch a chicken like a pro.

Thanks to the slower pace, I've also had more time to just enjoy being in Japan. I've been to a sado (a traditional tea ceremony); I've learned how to make mochi (sticky rice cake) and miso (fermented soy bean paste); and I've been enjoying the wonder that is onsen (natural hot springs). Japan is starting to feel normal. I can now pick up individual soy beans with chopsticks, and I apparently bow to the sales clerk an average of four times when checking out at the grocery store.

Our sado hosts

Our delicious post-tea brunch - sticky rice with red beans, sweet soy beans, and pickled vegetables

And yesterday, we got to play hooky for a community cross-country ski day in neighboring Fukushima prefecture. Most of the group (which included staff from the Philippines and Myanmar) had never been skiing, so we cheerfully bungled our way down the course, poles flailing and ski tips pointing in all the wrong directions. (I turned out to be the best skiier of the bunch, so you know it was a bit of a fiasco!) It was a fun change from farm work, and the landscape was beautiful - mountains of white birch trees and gray ash, valleys of white snow and gray snow sky. A soothing sight for this wanna-be New Hampshirite far from the snowy north country.

Getting ready for skiing in front of the main building...

I hope everyone in the Washington, D.C. area is enjoying "snowmageddon!" Get some sledding in for me.

Change?

Yesterday, one of the staff members (a fellow American from South Dakota) said the mission of ARI is to see the potential of every community member, whether participant or staff or temporary working visitor, and to support that community member in the struggle to realize his or her "the latent excellence." For many of us, Steven said, that struggle involves change - change that is often painful, that we often resist - because developing our potential means learning to think less of how to serve ourselves and more of how to serve others. As Steven said, "As babies, we are self-centered beings. We rely on others to serve us - there is no other way for us to survive. As we get older, we gradually begin to look outside of ourselves. We begin to serve others... I hope to die without a selfish thought in my head."

I've heard similar speeches many times before, but, surrounded by a community of people who have dedicated months or years to serving others, Steven's words really struck me. I sought this opportunity to challenge myself, to live and work with people from all over the world, to listen to their stories, but am I really open to change? ARI has already changed me, in ways both small and large, but will I work to keep that change alive once I return home? Or will I return to a way of living that is more comfortable, with fewer questions?

Food for thought.

And for some thoughts on food and food production, I read an article this afternoon that examines the threat agricultural pesticides pose to many animal species, species as diverse as seals, frogs, bats, and honeybees. According to the article:

"Today, drips and puffs of pesticides surround us everywhere, contaminating 90 percent of the nation’s major rivers and streams, more than 80 percent of sampled fish, and one-third of the nation’s aquifers. According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, fish and birds that unsuspectingly expose themselves to this chemical soup die by the millions every year.

But as regulators grapple with the lethal dangers of pesticides, scientists are discovering that even seemingly benign, low-level exposures to pesticides can affect wild creatures in subtle, unexpected ways — and could even be contributing to a rash of new epidemics pushing species to the brink of extinction."

Does anyone remember the Haagen Dazs "save the honeybee" campaign? Several years ago, Haagen Dazs began soliciting money for research on honeybees (honey is an essential ingredient for much of their ice cream), after 35 percent of the domestic U.S. honeybee population died between 2006 and 2009 due to a mysterious new disease. Many scientists now believe that agricultural pesticides, particularly a new class of pesticides based on nicotine, killed the bees rather than disease. (For more details, please read the article here).

It seems that change is needed.

Haiti

As I'm sure many of you have heard, Haiti was struck by a magnitude 7 earthquake on Tuesday, January 12. It was the strongest earthquake to hit the island in two hundred years. Thousands are estimated to have been killed, and much of Haiti (particularly the capital, Port-au-Prince) is reported to be in ruins.

Two YASCers, Mallory and Jude, are currently serving at an Anglican seminary in Port-au-Prince. Both fortunately survived (please see link for more details) the earthquake, although the seminary and other church buildings were badly damaged. Please pray for them.