Update: A stone wall & a new home

The final stone

In Puzzled in stone, posted in May 2012, I wrote about progress in building a stone wall in the grounds of Koumori-tei, Walk Japan's main office in Japan. It was finished, finally, over the recent new year; fully one year later than my original optimistic thoughts of completion by the end of 2012. Starting in June 2011, the whole edifice has taken two and a half years of intermittent toil between my regular job at Walk Japan; the heat and humidity of the summer months when it is too enervating to attempt much labour; rainy days when it impossible to see how well or not the stones are placed together; and, also, those times when I just could not face another day of the seemingly endless task of adding yet another stone.

The wall retains a grassy bank...

and provides a more comfortable access route to Koumori-tei.

This summer the grass will return to the bare earth...

and the wall will soon look like it has been here for many years. 

I estimate about 100,000 stones, all placed by hand, were used in construction. 99% of these are smaller ones hidden behind the front stones and are vital in maintaining the integrity of the structure. With a bit of luck the whole wall will remain standing for over 100 years and now finished my thoughts turn to other projects.....

A new house

In Decay and renewal, posted one year ago, I highlighted the mouldering state of a great swathe of the Japanese housing stock and how this is impacting rural communities. Contrary to the situation I wrote about then, however, we have been lucky enough to purchase an empty and spacious property in the village. This is the second one to come into our hands, the first being the old farmhouse in the same neighbourhood we have renovated for use as our office.

The house is largely hidden by a verdant garden.

A single-storey dwelling that is surprisingly large inside.

The latest building, which is in a grimy but good structural condition, came at a price so cheap that it belies the image of Japan as one of the most expensive countries in the world. Now, though, we have to spend several times that amount to make it a home for our growing family and to accommodate visitors. Our priority is to turn it into a space that not only appeals to us but will also intrigue others who love the idea of the countryside but do not want to give up their urban comforts. The premise being that through this and the other things happening with our Community Project we want as many people to see, understand and, hopefully, act on the great potential of Kunisaki and other struggling rural areas of Japan.

Properties in rural Japan are generally notorious for being fairly basic and draftily cold in winter. Currently, we are poring over books and magazines for ideas and inspiration ahead of preliminary building work due to commence in April. From time-to-time we will provide updates on progress.

P.S. Since we bought this property another has also been offered to us. Any takers?

Decay and renewal

A number of years ago we were lucky to buy an old house in the Japanese countryside. Our luck, though, was not because we were blessed with a surfeit of wealth. It was, instead, that the owner was even prepared to sell his property at all, to us or anyone else.

Travel outside Japan's cities and vacant properties are to be seen everywhere. The lack of a human occupant - but not necessarily a feral one - is frequently obvious because of an appearance made sad by neglect. Perhaps the roof has caved in or a wall collapsed, the last occupant’s possessions visible inside through the gaping hole. Maybe a bamboo grove is advancing menacingly and overshadowing the property. Or, vines coat the entire structure in a thick, verdant matting that almost camouflages it.

Idyllic and empty for years

Almost succumbed to nature

According to the Japanese Government, in 2008 there were approximately 7,560,000 houses empty throughout the nation; a whopping 13.1% of the total housing stock. Given that the population has shrunk since then, the next set of statistics due this year will most likely show an increase in this ratio.

The grass is cut but no-one has lived here for at least 20 years.

Another empty property but still with potential.

Along with a lack of people out and about and large school buildings with only a handful or no students studying in them, empty houses are a pertinent symbol of the inexorable depopulation of the Japanese countryside. Yet some Japanese (and non-Japanese) do wish to move into many rural areas. The crucial problem, though, is that absent owners are too often reluctant to rent or sell their vacant houses. Commonly, instead, the preferred option is to allow these structures to gently decay. Besides being a visual blight on the surrounding neighbourhoods, these uncared for dwellings compound the depopulation issue by not being available to newcomers. A couple of councils in Kunisaki have become concerned enough with the related issues of shrinking population and good housing being left to rot that they have finally been spurred into action. Local taxes have been levied in an attempt to encourage the owners to put the properties up for rent or sale.

Before

So we were very fortunate to gain possession of our old farmhouse, which is situated in a beautiful area in Kunisaki. It had been empty for 17 years and in poor condition. But after several years of reconstruction its has been transformed into an office for some of Walk Japan’s local staff and christened Koumori-tei. We still have further work to undertake in the grounds around the main structure but it is a pleasant and comfortable environment to pursue our duties. It is the core of our Community Project and we like to think it will become a symbol of revival in the wider local community.

After: Koumori-tei

Koumori-tei is not a common Japanese office environment.

Postscript: Koumori-tei (蝙蝠邸) can be translated as bat house. As far as we are aware no superhero has ever lived in it, but a solitary bat was roosting in the house when we first arrived. As we tore down the ceiling and walls around it the bat soon departed elsewhere but its memory lives on in the name.

All the other houses pictured here are within a three minute drive or less of Koumori-tei and are only some of the empty properties in our neighbourhood.