At its height, the Japanese village of Ozuchi boasted a population of 300. Families lived on the land for generations, making charcoal from the dense forest of cedar trees that envelops the area. Today only two full-time residents remain: 70-year-old Noboru Nimaida and his cat, Casa, a tuxedo stray with only half a tail.
For a small fee, tourists can visit Ozuchi and help Nimaida participate in his daily chores – cultivating rice and preserving the forest trails around the village, a 4½-hour drive from Osaka. Some stay longer, taking residence for a few weeks to help with the upkeep of the location and prepare for the wintertime: preserving food and catching the area’s wild boar, prone to ruining gardens and devouring vegetables.
The visits to Ozuchi are billed by tour guides as an authentic Japanese experience. It’s an example of the outside-the-box excursions popping up across Ishikawa, a prefecture located on Honshu Island in the Chubu region. They’re an attempt to drum up visitors to the lesser-known area while simultaneously preserving historical practices.
With eight million abandoned homes across the country and an increasingly aging population – more than one in 10 people are 80 or older – there is a conscious effort to highlight old Japan, the traditional culture and architecture more prevalent outside the major cities. In some ways, the survival of that culture depends on the success of these efforts.
This fall I spent a week in Japan, touring across various cities in Ishikawa before wrapping up in Tokyo. The goal of the visit was to compare some lesser-known spots with the hypermodern capital, a quirky and light narrative contrasting hidden gem destinations with the typical tourist experience.
But from the start of the trip, that story took a turn. Conceptually I understood that the aging population was affecting many facets of everyday life. Seeing it in practice was something else entirely. Greeted by local politicians from the city of Noto, our press group began with a tour of the peninsula’s new modern art festival. Venues were converted from former elementary schools and nurseries – buildings abandoned by the owners without enough children to occupy the space.
Observing Chiharu Shiota’s The Boat Which Carries Time – an installation from the Osaka-born Berlin-based artist, adorning a room in pieces of red string – I was equally enticed by the work and children’s murals still plastered on the venue walls, a haunting reminder of the building’s previous life.
The Suzu Theater Museum, repurposed from a school’s gymnasium, is filled with folk art and household ware left behind by the city’s former residents. Ocean waves are projected throughout the space with an accompanying soundscape, suggesting the ramshackle items being taken back by the sea. The imagery created a vibe equal parts welcoming and eerie.
Curators spoke with great pride about the festival but were clear in their intentions. The goal was to revitalize the prefecture. Young families could stay and work around the fest rather than venturing to urban centres. If it’s all successful, youth might even return home, the potential comeback referred to as a U-turn.
Listening to the talks, I felt grateful for a vantage point decidedly outside what many Westerners encounter when visiting Japan. That feeling was compounded by the very real possibility that without big changes from outside sources – more tourists coming to visit, government intervention – what I was seeing could disappear. More things left behind by the seismic shifts with origins both hard to define and impossible to ignore.
Variations of that story echoed throughout Ishikawa. At the Osaki lacquerware shop, guides walked us through the intricate process used to create urushi items. The decorative art is used in everything from Buddha statues to bento boxes. With the skill taking upwards of 15 years to master and a lack of students willing to train, lacquerware production is dwindling across the country.
The Shiroyone Senmaida Rice Terraces overlook the Sea of Japan and have roots dating back to the Edo period. Local farmers and volunteers plant and harvest the rice by hand, a practice preserved for centuries now in danger with the aging populace.
Hot spring hotels such as the Tachibana Shikitei were staffed by folks older than my grandparents. Vendor stalls were left vacant in the markets. Even Kanazawa – the prefecture’s capital and one of the only cities in the area that is growing – showed signs of shifting demographics, namely the fact that to keep up with the city’s needs more foreigners are taking up residence to fill blue-collar jobs.
My final days in Japan felt dizzying, juxtaposing the rural experience and ryokan hotels of Ishikawa with the Blade Runner landscape and Shangri-La in Tokyo. Despite being only three hours away by bullet train, the two felt like different worlds.
In contrast to the traditional old Japan residencies and dining I’d become accustomed to, the Shangri-La featured the largest hotel room I’ve stayed at within a major city, the best sushi I’ve ever eaten – at its Nadaman restaurant – and a full lap pool overlooking the bright lights below.
The youthful staff offered helpful and pointed suggestions on everything new, vibrant and cool in Tokyo. Was I interested in seeing a giant 3-D cat? What about the future art at Team Lab, complete with interactive projections and immersive lighting? Had I experienced any of the shopping districts?
Overwhelmed with possibility, I thought about the pace of the city and the life I’d want if I lived here. I thought about Nimaida and his cat then spent the next few hours lost in neon light, every second corner seemingly busier and brighter than Times Square.
On my final day in the country, I was talking through my stay with the helpful and chatty concierge, explaining my experiences in Ishikawa. Without prompting, the concierge noted how fortunate I was to experience that viewpoint of Japan before visiting the city. Apparently, one really helps you appreciate the other.
The writer was hosted by Beauty of Japan across Ishikawa and the Shangri-La Hotel in Tokyo. Neither reviewed nor approved the article before publication.
Exploring Ishikawa
Cultural tours of Ishikawa can be booked through Beauty of Japan and Visit Ishikawa. Trips and activities are catered to individual interests. Highlights include dining experiences, traditional samurai and geisha presentations, and bike tours. beauty-of-japan.com; ishikawatravel.jp
Across the prefecture, there are dozens of great hotels including the traditional Tadaya Ryokan – complete with tatami-matted rooms and communal bath – in Nanao and the Western-style Hyatt in Kanazawa.