Ōno Gun

Every time I get the chance to see somewhere new in the world, I'm struck by how many ways there are to "live". What I mean by that is that humans have been figuring out how to live in their environments for forever. Even within North America I've seen this. Take the Southeastern United States for example, where I grew up, clay bricks are extremely popular for building whereas in the Northwest US, it's all wood. Where I live now, in the Arctic, the people have had to be very inventive and creative to create dwellings and live in a treeless, clayless environment. But, they did it and have 27 different words for 'snow' to encompass all the different types and categories, illustrating that a simple precipitation word to non-Arctic peoples is a very important concept to Arctic dwellers.

The same in Japan. In Shirakawago, a now-UNESCO designated heritage site, tourists can see the ingenuity of how traditional homes were built using what they had----grass--called 'gassho-style'. Not only were homes built using grass, but also shoes, clothes, bassinets, mats, etc. Instead of everything being seal skin like it is in Igloolik, it was grass.

The village we visited is actually one of 3 such UNESCO designated villages. Their location deep in a mountainous region at high elevation both protected them from encroaching sprawl and redevelopment such that in the 1970s, local residents decided that this traditional style was worth preserving. They worked for 20 years to restore the homes back to their glory and achieve the UNESCO status, predicting that future tourists and Japanese would value this and bring economic stimulus. The steep mountains that surround these villages prevent any real agriculture of scale. Back in the day, the residents used to raise silkworms as a way to generate income.

The houses' roofs must be replaced every 30 years. The roofs are very steep in order to repel and slough off accumulating snow. Plus, the houses are huge--like 3 to 4 stories tall and would accommodate extended families along with their silkworm cultures up in the attic.

I am not sure what or how the residents not directly incorporated in the tourism industry do for money. They may commute to larger, nearby towns for jobs.
Today, the village is awash with tourists and visitors. It is essential that the homes be protected for posterity but also economic reasons. To that end, the village has a crazy fire suppression system. There are essentially geysers set up every 30 m (100 ft) or so. They shoot something like 30 m (100 ft) in the air and are basically an unmanned fire hose. Instead of a knocked over fire hydrant that shoots upward, these shoot directionally towards homes and barns. They do fire drills every week or month, I can't remember, and the residents have to participate. They also do a test run of the geysers every fall to make sure they are working. Additionally, there are fire patrols that consist of regular residents making the rounds twice per day through the village to ensure there are no fire hazards that have unintentionally occurred throughout the day. Serious about some fire prevention in a town of grass homes.

What was most interesting to me about the story of these villages was that when the residents decided to organize and preserve their village, it was the younger generation that prized this ideal and wanted to protect the traditional houses. The older residents at the time resisted with the argument that they needed to modernize and do away with these high-maintenance houses. I find that interesting because usually it's the kids trying to get the older generations to modernize while the elders try to impart the value of tradition and customs to the younger folk.

As usual, the bathrooms were weirdly spotless. Also interesting and, according to Jonathan and I, taking things a bit too extreme was the fact that there were NO garbage cans. They just hands down refused to provide anywhere to throw garbage. Not in the restrooms, not in restaurants, no on the streets. Nowhere. And there were gobs of signs explaining that you would not find a trash can because there were none. We were instructed by the signs to carry all our garbage out. That even included diapers! That's where Jonathan and I drew the line. I mean, seriously, you have your baby with you and you're supposed to carry the baby's shit diaper with you the rest of the day in your purse??!! Isn't that lovely getting to sit next to that person on the bus ride back---the person with shit diapers in their bag. A little ridiculous if you ask me. But they didn't ask me and I didn't have an infant with me, thankfully, so I just shoved my plastic waste in my camera bag and moved on.Читать далее