They had a log beam supported by smaller logs set up in a teepee-type way. We took each bundle of rice and split it down the middle and hung it on the wood beam (so it was straddling the beam). After we finished with the cut rice we moved to where the rice wasn’t cut yet. They had a nifty machine that cut, bundled, and tied the rice (it looked like a glorified hand pushed lawn mower), but the machine couldn’t get near the edges of the field (they grow rice right up to the very concrete edge of the road) or the rice that had been bent down for some reason. I expressed interest in cutting the rice by hand so Mr. Kastumata showed me how. The rice grows in little clumps and you take a small hand sickle that has a curved, toothed edge to it and grabbing the clump of rice you draw the sickle toward you near the ground in one movement. I just learned from internet research that the difference between a scythe and a sickle is that the sickle is small and short and the scythe is bigger and longer and allows the user to stand up straighter. I picture a scythe when I think of people cutting wheat, so we were definitely using a sickle for this task. It took me a while before I could do it in one movement because I was afraid of cutting myself so I wouldn’t pull hard and would have to saw through. I soon got comfortable with it and enjoyed the work very much. You cut four clumps and lay them down in one bundle, then later you take old rice stalks and tie them around the base of the bundle. It’s not a granny knot, you just wrap about eight old strands around once then holding the ends together twist a number of times then bend the twisted part in half and tuck it under the part that is wrapped around the bundle. It holds together brilliantly. I might add that he position to cut the rice is a squatting one. Japanese people have no trouble sitting in seiza (sitting on your feet with your knees in front of you) and squatting to do work on the ground. I’m getting much better at squatting because of their wonderful toilets. Now there’s a change of attitude. When I came here I couldn’t understand the squatty potty public toilets, now I don’t understand why everyone doesn’t have them. They are convenient, and less disgusting because you don’t have to touch anything. They’re easier to keep clean, too. Anyway, this isn’t about toilets. I still have a hard time with seiza, but I haven’t practiced too much. I can sit in it for a while but then my legs are numb when I get up. But back to rice cutting. After cutting, tying, and hanging for a while we were invited into tea. They have a beautiful new log cabin on the grounds that they are planning on turning into a coffee shop. It wasn’t furnished yet, but we gathered around on the beautiful wood floor and had coffee and snacks. We seemed to break often for drinks or ice cream so the work was not too hard. It was wonderful to do manual work after so much mental and non-physical work. The day was refreshing in general, and it was great to have Mike, Kim and Sterling’s company. The Katsumadas and their children have varying degrees of English ability, but we got along just fine. Even after all the rice was cut and hung we walked around the field and picked up every last stray stalk of rice. There’s no wasting anything but time here in Japan. Now it makes a lot of sense that Japan has the most efficient farming techniques per land area but the least efficient in terms of human labor to production! Still, it was nice to see a job done with so little waste of materials.
We worked until around 3pm then Mike and I went to the athletic shop he liked so I could get some winter running clothes. I was very happy to find both a jacket and pants on sale for a good price for running clothes even though we didn’t have much time because we had to be back for a BBQ at 5pm. That was great fun and good food and a good way to celebrate the completion of our labor efforts together. Kinko (the Katsumatas' daughter whom I later went to Nikko with) joined us and afterwards she, Mike and I rented Singing in the Rain and watched it at his place. Before we started the movie, however, we got to talking about English fairy tales because Kinko was working on her English. She is quite good and had trouble with the stories only because there are often old words and expressions used. It was a lovely evening. I had planned to go home that evening but Kim and Sterling were going to the Katsunuma while festival and we all decided to go along, so that’s why we ended up hanging out that night.
On Saturday morning (Oct. 2nd) Mike and I went to a local sports festival where he was participating in a relay race. It turned out to be a big deal with people from schools, businesses, and the community all gathered to compete it crazy events. I was treated well as a friend of Mike’s and even given a bento (lunch) though I protested that I wasn’t with his school. I enjoyed watching people try to toss balls into baskets 20 feet in the air, old men and ladies race to croquet mallets in pairs, young kids bust their guts in the relay run, etc. Mike ran well but his team didn’t catch up to the winner. I offered to take a picture for Mike and as I sat on the side lines ready to get a shot as he came around the corner Mike’s supervisor dragged me out to the middle of the field to get the shot! I was so shocked I’m not sure I actually got a picture of him . . .
Mike ate a hurried bento and we raced off to his place so he could shower and meet Kinko again to go to Kastunuma. It took about an hour and we had a good time at the festival. There were many JETs there and we enjoyed chatting, looking around and eating festival food. At home point I was walking around with Fred and Adam and some Japanese lady saw us trying to figure out if a certain sign meant don’t drink and drive and she got to talking to us. Both Frank and Adam had wine in their hands so she insisted on our admitting that I was the designated driver. I cannot lie, but Frank had no trouble. He answered “yes, she’s taking us home” and I said “Don’t worry, it’s all taken care of.” Well, I didn’t know how Frank and Adam were getting home, but I wasn’t with them so I was fine. Well, for whatever reason she went off to find another guy who insisted that we follow him after again trying to make sure that I was the designated driver. As we followed him he asked where I’d parked and of course, I hadn’t, so Frank told him where his car was. He told us to wait there and then I started to worry. After a while my fears were confirmed, he came up in his truck and wanted us to follow him to his winery. That would have been cool, but I didn’t have my international drivers permit on me and I’d never driven in Japan and it was Frank's car and it would have been a great mess. Somehow Frank managed to make up a story and talked about coming another time, apologized and left. There you go again, it never helps to lie!
Mike took me to the train station after a bit of a confusing stint we found it. I got home around 10pm feeling refreshed and invigorated by the weekend. Sorry it took me so long to write this up!