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PHOTOS & REVIEWS

2025 Workshop in Shizuoka  Sept. 7 ~ Sept. 13, 2025

​Monday

Reflecting on today's activities, it was a day where learning in Shimoda expanded in many directions. Starting with Mr. Tsuruzaqui's (owner of the homestay ‘Kazemachi Shimoda’) story, I was deeply moved by his approach of naturally connecting outsiders with locals, prioritizing creating spaces where people gather over personal profit. It was very impressive how, despite being a Tokyo transplant, he integrated into the community and built a place where people could interact comfortably. Furthermore, experiencing the more relaxed lifestyle of Shimoda residents compared to Tokyoites, and the culture of neighborhood connections transcending age and status, made me realize a different kind of richness compared to urban life. Mr. Saito (Head of Saito Juku) also shared insightful perspectives on the high awareness of environmental issues and how children's actions can influence adults, making me feel the potential for change across generations. Furthermore, through learning about the historical background at Ryosenji Temple and interacting during the BBQ, it was a day where I could comprehensively experience the charm of the region's culture, nature, and people. The First Day of the Shimoda Workshop went successfully, with local activists working hard to connect people from outside of Shimoda to inside, regardless of age or background. (RM)

​Thursday

Today in Minami-Izu, I experienced firsthand the challenges and appeal of the region. At the hunting site, I learned that skilled hunters struggle with a lack of successors and face significant time and facility constraints when selling game for consumption, making me realize the harsh reality. On the other hand, I felt hope in initiatives like the bamboo transport volunteer program, which create opportunities for people to engage with local issues. I believe there's room for more creative thinking on how to utilize bamboo, which keeps growing back no matter how much you cut it. Mr. Nakano, knowledgeable about Minami-Izu's wildlife, guided us on a river fishing trip. Seeing him, as a newcomer captivated by Izu's nature, build a new life here reaffirmed the power of outsiders contributing to the community through their own interests and goals. While city life often revolves around pre-packaged entertainment, in Shimoda, surrounded by nature, I realized every day is a new discovery. From Sean (farmer and owner of Tamura Lotus Shōon guesthouse), I learned hunting knowledge and tool usage. His determination to protect his own lemon trees from scratch was truly inspiring. At night, we all made a wild game stew together. Through its deliciousness, I truly felt the richness of savoring local resources as food. More hunters were needed to protect the farm crops, and more workers were needed to keep the bamboo farms in order. The locals face many obstacles to survive, but at the same time, they find treasures from nature every day. (MN)

Tuesday

Today we went fishing in the morning and everyone had a great time. At the aquarium we visited afterward, they talked about various issues and ideas concerning the marine environment around Shimoda. One point raised in that talk was the idea that things humans think are good for the environment might actually be worsening it. For example, could artificially incubating sea turtle eggs be disrupting the sea turtle life cycle? Some also consider fishing cruel, but from the fish's perspective, isn't being caught simply a natural phenomenon? It was very thought-provoking. Next, the Sushi Lab system also gave us much to ponder. Everyone realized how incredibly difficult it is to actually make sushi themselves. Comparing their own sushi to that made by the master, everyone noticed the master's sushi had a perfect balance between rice and topping. Furthermore, some felt that Sushi Lab could only exist because it's in Shimoda. Shimoda is a town that values human relationships. Many people continue eating sushi made by apprentices still learning their craft, feeling their growth. Opinions arose that attempting this in Tokyo wouldn't work due to costs, income, and people's personalities. Ultimately, observing Shimoda's workers today, everyone shared the common thought: Shimoda people don't live solely for their jobs. It's a town where people do what they want and support each other – this is Shimoda's true charm. The Second Day was on the ocean. We fished, learned how to make Nigiri sushi, and pondered the human effort to maintain the ocean environment—whether it benefits nature or not—through the lecture at the Aquarium. We were also impressed by the work-life balance here, unlike big cities. (TM) Translated with DeepL.com (free version)

Friday

I participated in the beach cleanup starting at 8:30 AM and witnessed firsthand the current situation where a large amount of polystyrene foam debris is drifting ashore. While there is a risk that fish might accidentally ingest it and suffer adverse effects, opportunities to actually see what kind of damage is occurring are rare, making it difficult to feel a sense of urgency. However, since the garbage problem won't be solved unless we act, I felt that students taking the lead could serve as a catalyst for adults to get involved. While it's not necessary for everyone to be forced into participation, I believe it's crucial for those who feel “I must do this” to continue their efforts. Furthermore, during our visit to Shimoda High School, I was deeply impressed by the high level of awareness among each student. Despite the exchange being optional, many students participated, and their ability to articulate Shimoda's appeal in their own words was striking. Generally, it's difficult to articulate the appeal of one's hometown, and interest tends to wane. However, Shimoda High students deeply love Shimoda, are diligent in their studies, and are so motivated they seek learning environments beyond the study rooms. Moreover, rather than focusing on “revitalizing” Shimoda, they strongly desire to “continue protecting the good aspects of Shimoda today.” This mindset struck us as truly wonderful. Early morning beach cleaning made us think that young people should take initiative to continue, not forcing others to do. The Shimoda high school students impressed us for their passion and many future plans to keep Shimoda going. (TS)

Wednesday

What stood out most on this day was the explanation of a lifestyle called dual-base living, introduced in a lecture by Professor Doi of Atomi University. The current reality is that the unstoppable exodus of young people to Tokyo means the population decline in rural areas shows no sign of slowing. However, increasing the number of people maintaining residences in both urban and rural areas can promote regional revitalization without harming the economic impact within cities. Furthermore, on an individual level, she explained that having social connections not only at the workplace but also at a base in the countryside can provide mental breathing room. Afterwards, we participated in creating “Bamboo Lanterns,” an art piece involving drilling holes in bamboo and placing lights inside. This workshop highlighted both the potential of bamboo, which can be used for a wide variety of purposes, and the frustration of not effectively utilizing this excellent building material. While Southeast Asian countries like Indonesia feature numerous bamboo structures, Japan's architecture remains dominated by wood, and bamboo has yet to gain widespread acceptance. We learned that revitalizing Japan's bamboo industry and exploring its economic applications are essential. We learned about new ways of living in two places to revitalize regional areas. We also focused on bamboo industries where more exploration of its usage is needed. (KM)

Saturday

Professor Fujita (Keio University) made me think about the unavoidable aspects of university life like job hunting and money issues. The theme of “money” was particularly complex, and I was struck by how approaches differ from person to person, much like investing. I tried investing with PayPay points myself; what started as about 500 yen grew to 1,237 yen—over 50%—in just one year. Since money and life are inseparable, I want to keep learning about this. In Ms. Koshiro's (Coach) “Knowing Yourself” workshop, I learned step-by-step how to build essential daily communication and trust. The actual demonstration created a safe atmosphere for speaking, and recognizing my own conversational challenges was a major takeaway. I tend to interrupt others or rush to offer solutions, but I learned the importance of remembering that the other person must find their own answers. This experience gave me the courage to face my weaknesses. The importance of starting investment for college students and the communication of not trying to solve the problem were the main issues we learned. (MK)

Sunday

Today, three graduates of Keio University's New York campus shared what they felt was most important in their lives so far, despite still being in their thirties. Kohei Nishiwada aimed to become a professional band player but ended up working for a trading company and later starting his own business, inspired by music equipment. He emphasizes the importance of always maintaining a high perspective, pursuing challenges with ambition, and learning continuously every single day. Rikito Yamada worked at a consulting firm before graduating from law school in California. He stressed the importance of clarifying one's vision, persistently challenging oneself through trial and error, and making independent judgments about problems without being swayed by trends. Mariko Kondo, formerly a physician, now creates her own work in physician education and is also a sculptor and writer. Having experienced health issues from demanding medical work, she stressed the importance of not trying to do everything one is capable of, choosing work that brings the greatest happiness, and refusing unpleasant tasks regardless of others' opinions. What these three share is expanding their capabilities into unknown fields while remaining constantly active, and their proficiency in English appears to be a significant asset. (FK) We had an opportunity to hear the experiences and what they feel the most important in pursuing lives from three graduates of Keio University, Mr. Nishiwada, Mr. Yamada, and Ms Kondo (Kikegawa). They all encouraged us to keep on challenging for things you really love, not to be influenced by other things. (FK)

Review essays from the participants

The meaning of the space "Kazemachi"

I'm personally interested in how the spaces inside and outside buildings expand, and how those spaces create communities and connect people. For that reason, I was deeply intrigued by Tsuruzaki's projects and could relate to many aspects of them. I was also deeply inspired by his constant desire to bring new winds to the area. The name "Kazemachi Shimoda" (Wind Town) embodies Tsuruzaki's deep aspirations. "Wind-Waiting" refers to a ship waiting for favorable winds before departing. Since Commodore Perry's arrival in Shimoda in 1854, people from various countries have come and gone in Shimoda. I believe the phrase "wind-waiting" was a natural fit for this port town. However, Tsuruzaki felt that the word "wait" also carries a passive connotation, so he chose the hiragana "machi" (town). Rather than waiting for the wind, he wanted to create the wind himself and make the area more vibrant—that's the feeling embodied in the name. Tsuruzaki, a migrant herself, has broken down the "invisible barriers" between locals and newcomers, creating a space where anyone can drop in. Starting a business from scratch in a new location and engaging with others to develop a "town" is no easy feat. Still, I feel that the warmth of Kazemachi Shimoda is born from the fact that it provides a space where anyone can take on small challenges, rather than targeting a specific demographic. For example, there are clothing workshops run by moms and cooking events run by middle school home economics clubs, providing opportunities for local residents to try their hand at something inspired by their own talents and interests. Such "places where you can give shape to your own small interests" are actually surprisingly rare. Even if you have an interest, without an opportunity to share it, it often remains just a passing curiosity. It's only by taking action that new paths open up and insights into life emerge. I believe that an environment where everyone has the opportunity to take on challenges, regardless of age, nationality, or occupation, naturally draws people together and creates a virtuous cycle. "We're a truly diverse community, with a diverse range of ages, nationalities, occupations, and reasons for staying here. But recently, this diversity has begun to blend together naturally and comfortably." - These are the words from Kazemachi Shimoda's official website. It took a lot of hard work from Tsurumazaki himself, as well as the cooperation and support of the local community, to reach this point. People from inside and outside Shimoda are interacting to create a new era of town. Seeing this, I felt the power of space-making. The space I actually visited was also impressive. The layout allowed people to naturally connect around a large table while working individually. The playful use of a ping-pong table as a meeting table. Bamboo lanterns lit the outdoor deck, exuding a warmth that's so characteristic of Shimoda. The colorful wallpaper, created in collaboration with local residents, was also striking. It felt like Tsurumazaki's experience running a bar in Tokyo was put to good use in creating this "place for people to gather." Even though their fields are different, I think they share a common thread: "people gather, relationships are formed, and the place becomes a place of refuge." Through this workshop, I realized that creating a space isn't just about designing a building, but also about "designing the relationships between people." Tsurumazaki's way of life and the nature of places like Kazemachi Shimoda made me want to one day create a space that can create a place and opportunity for someone.

The ability to think from a different perspective

Although Shimoda City, Shizuoka Prefecture, which I visited, is located in Japan, it felt like a different world. The distances between people were astonishingly close, and the area was filled with abundant nature and history. I regularly enjoy marine activities, such as fishing, and chose a university surrounded by a beautiful natural environment, so it was an ideal area for me. However, even in such an ideal area, I learned that the residents feel a sense of crisis about the area they live in. For this Shimoda workshop, I actually visited the area and listened to the various perspectives of students, the mayor, and farmers to discuss Shimoda's problems and attractions, and considered ways to revitalize the area. First, I had the opportunity to stay at Kazemachi Shimoda, a shared house facility, for about three days. It's a facility that attracts a diverse range of people, including the mayor and people from overseas, so there are few people in Shimoda who don't know it. The facility is run by someone who moved to Shimoda from Tokyo, and he was impressed by the closeness between people in Shimoda and the good things about the area. I felt the closeness between people while interacting with the children from Saito School, the mayor, and residents of Kazemachi Shimoda over a barbecue. Almost no one was shy. In my area, it's rare to meet the mayor, and it's unlikely I'll ever get to know all the kids at a cram school. That same night, I saw the people who helped me with my sushi-making experience at Kazemachi Shimoda. It's a diverse community of people. They also welcomed us, the newcomers and guests, and we discussed how Shimoda compares to their own area and what makes it appealing. One of Shimoda's strengths is its close proximity and ease of living. When I interacted with students from Shimoda High School, we discussed what they liked and disliked about Shimoda and how they would actually address these issues. Surprisingly, all the students were able to express their thoughts fluently. Some were thinking about their future and wanted to continue living in Shimoda and contribute to the revitalization of the area, while others wanted to leave Shimoda and live in the city, putting their experiences to good use after returning home to Shimoda. Many students cited the high cost of the Izukyu-Shimoda train line, the lack of playgrounds, and the lack of study rooms and other study spaces as problems. They said they wanted to study more, create more playgrounds, and spend more time with others. I wondered if, as a high school student, I had been dissatisfied with my school or the neighborhood I lived in. I feel like I would have made the excuse that there was nothing we could do, so there was no point in thinking about it. Rather than simply complaining about a problem and waiting for someone to take action, like the Shimoda High School students did, I think we should all have the attitude of thinking for ourselves so that we can all change it together. This workshop was a great opportunity to think about things from various perspectives. I was able to practice as a counseling coach and hear many stories from Keio Academy of New York graduates, which also helped me to reflect on myself. I feel like it was the most thought-provoking I've had in a while, and I was surprised at how much I could think. If you know what you're interested in but don't know how to put it into action, or if you're struggling to think of solutions to problems, I recommend you visit Shimoda, where people are close to each other, listen to the stories of people from various walks of life, broaden your horizons, and develop your own thinking skills.

Cooperation > Competition

Throughout this workshop, I was shocked to find that the word "competition" never came up, and I didn't sense it at all. I feel that most criteria for judgment and evaluation in urban areas are based on competition. This is true both between companies and among friends. For example, go to a university and listen to the conversations of the people sitting next to you. Conversations are filled with "I did ~," "I bought ~," "Can you do ~?" and so on. Setting aside whether this is right or wrong, it's incredibly boring. But what about the people I met in Shimoda? It's not that they're completely devoid of competitive spirit. However, everyone gathers together with the premise that they have something they want to achieve, and they steadily work toward it. If someone from another country were to see this scene alone, I'm sure they'd be impressed by how democratic, peaceful, and cooperative Japan is. Also impressive were the students at the local Shimoda High School. They have a habit of looking at things from a broader perspective. With few options for leisure time, they have time to reflect deeply on the nature of the place they find themselves in. Local cultures and customs are nurtured in their natural environment. As people age, these carefully considered values change as they are adopted or absorbed from outside. The gap created by this change allows them to develop an excellent ability to see things from a broader perspective. The greater the difference between what was previously normal and what is now normal, the greater the opportunity for growth. For people born and spent their entire lives in cities, unless they choose to change their environment, they have few opportunities to notice this gap. This inevitably limits their scope for personal growth. In this respect, Shimoda High School students can be considered to be in a privileged environment. It's true that having limited options in adolescence can seem boring at first glance and lead to pessimistic thinking. However, depending on how you look at it, it may be that Shimoda High School students are able to thrive within the expanded options available to them as they enter university and the workforce. Not working for the sake of competition also means that work is a natural part of life. This doesn't mean that life revolves around work. To use paint as an analogy, they are not divided into two colors, red and blue, but live in the purple gradation between them. Perhaps the most difficult thing is actually maintaining a balance between red and blue and achieving harmony without becoming dualistic. It's the same with everything. It's easier to be biased toward yes or no, good or evil. The fact that we can feel this firsthand is likely due in large part to the influence of being immersed in nature. In modern times, everything is thought of in terms of cost-effectiveness and performance. We tend to think that after putting in so much effort and time, it's only natural that we should be rewarded accordingly. While playing in the river, I discovered something more beautiful than cost-effectiveness and performance. It's the "comfort of not going as planned." After spending so much time and effort, we haven't caught a single fish. That's what nature is all about. Humans must never forget this feeling, because our bodies, the human body, are also part of nature. Before we know it, we're born, suffer from calamity-like illnesses, and die in an instant. This time, there was a workshop on "self-understanding," which goes beyond the scope of the self and leads to an understanding of human beings.

The heartfelt feeling not exists in big cities

This workshop allowed me to gain a deeper understanding of Shimoda. While I've often visited Shimoda as a tourist, I hadn't previously engaged deeply with the people living there or the environmental issues facing the area. Among the many things that inspired me during this Shimoda workshop, I became particularly interested in the bamboo problem and the local community.  Having lived for a long time in cities like Singapore and New York, I had no exposure to bamboo. Consequently, I had no way of knowing how it grows or what kind of impact it has on the environment. However, this time, I gained the opportunity to interact with bamboo directly and learned about the impact this seemingly mysterious plant has. I learned that in Shimoda, where the population is aging, there are few people left to cut the bamboo or process and utilize it. Yet, since bamboo is a type of wood, if processed properly, it can be used beautifully. For example, you can make “bamboo lanterns,” which we actually experienced in this workshop. You can also build houses with bamboo. If you think about using it well, the possibilities are endless. However, in Shimoda and other rural areas, bamboo proliferates, causing bamboo damage. Bamboo grows extremely fast and reaches greater heights than other trees. Consequently, if bamboo isn't managed properly, other plants native to the area cannot thrive. Learning about this problem made me think I could potentially start a business utilizing bamboo in the future. If we can master bamboo processing and use it like commonly used timber, bamboo could become a great resource for humanity. Furthermore, managing bamboo could also help alleviate the problems faced by regions suffering from bamboo damage. Shimoda has a different kind of community gathering compared to Tokyo. During my two-night stay at Kazemachi Shimoda, I was deeply moved by the warmth of the local community. Kazemachi Shimoda hosts events where anyone can gather, and it also welcomes tourists visiting from overseas. Even though people likely don't know each other, stepping into Kazemachi Shimoda creates a sense of security, like being among family. Furthermore, when interacting with the children at Saito School, I observed them playing together in nature, unlike children in Tokyo, and felt a stronger bond. Since Shimoda is a small town, living there for a while allows you to become acquainted with many of the townspeople, fostering the kind of relationships that are hard to build in Tokyo. From my perspective, having lived most of my life in the city, this is something I find a little envious. Finally, this workshop has significantly increased my interest in Shimoda. Having interacted with the people of Shimoda in Minami-Izu, a place I had never visited before, I feel a strong desire to return. If I were to start a business utilizing bamboo in the future, I would like to begin by focusing on Shimoda.

Happiness found in daily life

My trip to Shimoda was an incredibly fulfilling, intense week that far exceeded my expectations. Since starting university, my days had been consumed by juggling part-time work, club activities, and studies, leaving little time to seriously consider my future and making me forget its importance. Furthermore, commuting while clutching my smartphone and blocking my ears with earphones had become habitual, sometimes making me feel like I was voluntarily distancing myself from others. However, my stay in Shimoda stood in stark contrast to that routine. It became a precious opportunity to distance myself from my smartphone and reconnect with society through interactions with nature and people. Each day was packed with memorable events, making it difficult to pinpoint just one “most memorable” experience. Nevertheless, I'll share two that personally stood out. One thing I noticed almost immediately after arriving in Shimoda was how many locals seemed to be doing work they found truly meaningful. From my perspective, compared to people I meet in Tokyo (though of course there are individual differences), the people of Shimoda seemed focused on what they truly wanted to do and genuinely enjoyed it. For example, creating a guesthouse cafe from scratch to make a place where people of all ages could casually come and go, communicate, and work; crafting with leftover bamboo to host an event called “Bamboo Lanterns” where people could enjoy fantastical scenery; and sharing their work with others, conveying pride and joy in what they did. Their demeanor felt incredibly natural, radiating a happiness that seemed effortless. In contrast, in Tokyo, it often seems like many people seek temporary satisfaction through activities like traveling, buying brand-name goods, or visiting trendy cafes. This isn't about judging which is better or worse, but it made me realize there are two forms of happiness: “happiness found in everyday life” and “happiness gained through extraordinary experiences.” My time in Shimoda was an experience that made me aware of the richness of that everyday happiness.  The second thing that left a strong impression was what I learned in Ms. Koshiro's session about building communication and trust. Learning step-by-step about processes essential to daily life, like “talking with people” and “gaining trust,” was incredibly memorable. Especially during the demonstration, actually listening to someone's concerns made me truly appreciate the importance of active listening. Ms. Koshino creates a sense of safety where people feel they can speak freely. It was precisely because of that warm atmosphere that I myself could speak honestly. Through this experience, I learned for the first time that “coaching” exists as a profession. Simultaneously, it reminded me of a dream I had in middle school: “I want a job where I can be there for people with their worries.” I still regret not being able to properly support a classmate who faced difficult family circumstances back then. Because I couldn't help that person, I resolved that in the future, I wanted to be a support for anyone struggling with their own worries. Rediscovering this deep-seated desire through my learning in Shimoda was the most significant gain for me.  This learning experience in Shimoda became a precious opportunity to reflect on myself through insights and connections with people that I wouldn't gain in my everyday life. By contemplating how to interact with others and the forms of happiness found in daily life, I feel it provided a vital catalyst for considering my future path and life direction.

Nowhere but here

This time, the eight of us participated in a workshop hosted by Kikkajuku in Shimoda City. The moment I first set foot in Shimoda, I immediately sensed that this town possesses more than just its face as a tourist destination; it has the power to naturally connect people and warmly embrace one another. Shimoda has a comfortable atmosphere for visitors, and I was deeply drawn to its charm.  What particularly moved me was the town's innate ability to connect people. Hearing one settler's story made this profoundly clear. He moved from Tokyo to Shimoda and continues to be active as a member of the community. Rather than prioritizing his own interests, he emphasized creating spaces where people gather, meet, and connect. This approach was proof he had taken root as a member of the town, not just a temporary visitor.  Integrating into a community is never easy for newcomers. In many rural areas, an invisible wall exists between long-time residents and newcomers. Even if they appear friendly on the surface, once trouble arises, it's not uncommon for lines to be drawn with comments like, “That person is an outsider.” I myself have witnessed this exclusivity many times in rural areas. However, in Shimoda City, this scene was completely reversed. In Shimoda, people who have returned or relocated here bring their own ideas to the community and actually bring them to life. And remarkably, the local residents don't reject them; instead, they support them and work alongside them. Here, the word “outsider” carries no negative connotation. Rather, there's a flexibility that welcomes the fresh breeze brought by those from outside and incorporates that breeze into the town's very air. This kind of atmosphere is something you rarely find in other regional cities.  The way the townspeople live also has a unique, distinctive ease. They aren't rushed by time like in the city, nor do they have the closed-off feeling often found in the countryside. Daily life is built around relationships between people. What surprised me most was the relationship between the children and the adults.  In the countryside where I grew up, the worlds of adults and children were sharply divided. Children were taught it was rude to interrupt adult conversations and were drilled to obey their elders. But the children of Shimoda City I met at Shimoda High School were different. They spoke of their dreams as a matter of course and discussed town development on equal footing with adults. Witnessing adults take these ideas seriously and engage in genuine, equal debate, I felt I glimpsed the true strength of this town. The children's voices moved the adults, and the adults created new spaces. This chain of dialogue across generations softens and enriches Shimoda's atmosphere. There is no division based on being an adult or a child. A foundation exists where everyone respects each other as individuals.  I sensed that Shimoda wasn't building the typical rural boundary that excludes some, but rather a soft circle where anyone could step inside. The energy of newcomers resonates with the deep embrace of the locals, naturally giving birth to a new culture. That's precisely why it captivates so many people. The reason visitors to Shimoda consistently say they want to return, or even live here, likely lies in this unique sense of comfort. Here lies another possibility—neither a countryside that merely heals city-weary souls, nor a closed local society. An atmosphere where people connect, dialogue across generations, and a warmth that blurs the lines between inside and outside. These elements overlap, shaping a town unlike any other. I wished places like Shimoda—welcoming outsiders while gently encouraging those within to expand—would multiply across Japan. Shimoda possesses the undeniable power to make one feel this way.

​Human and nature live together

This time, our group of eight visited Shimoda and Minamiizu, located on the Izu Peninsula. Through this week's activities, I primarily learned about the connection between people and nature.  Specifically, our first day began with activities at “Kazemachi Shimoda,” where we spent the day learning about Shimoda's approach to human-nature interaction through conversations with local residents. Among these, Mr. Tsuruzaqui's story was particularly memorable. He shared insights about two distinct lifestyles: the urban life centered on economic activity and the rural life focused on self-sufficiency. He explained that through exploring these two ways of living, he realized that creating spaces for human interaction in Shimoda was the path that suited him best. Later, we explored Shimoda's streets with local children and bonded over activities like BBQ. We realized “Kaze Machi Shimoda” was the force building these connections, teaching us the importance of close human interaction—something hard to find in the city. The local children, regardless of age, got along wonderfully, and we were struck by each child's remarkably high awareness of environmental issues. The next day, we experienced sushi-making at a place called Sushi Lab. The business model there was also fascinating. Typically, sushi apprenticeship takes about ten years before one can serve customers. However, at Sushi Lab, apprentices become active chefs in about two years. Moreover, by establishing a full employment relationship with the master chefs who teach them, they can become skilled artisans much faster. Furthermore, customers themselves can enjoy working as sushi chefs, say, just one day a week. I believe this system only works in Shimoda because of its deep human connections. Attempting this in Tokyo likely wouldn't work the same way. It's precisely because people in Shimoda are connected not just professionally but personally that a kind of mutual support relationship emerges. The next day, I learned about interacting with nature through making bamboo lanterns. Despite bamboo being an excellent building material, Japan has far fewer bamboo structures compared to Indonesia or South Asia. Discovering bamboo's charm and potential through these lanterns made me feel frustrated that we aren't utilizing it more effectively. Regarding the bamboo industry, it's fair to say mutual understanding between people and nature remains limited. I felt that finding economically viable ways to utilize bamboo and working to establish it as a national asset could also revitalize bamboo and nature itself. We also learned about the local ecosystems. On the fourth day, we visited a hunting site in Minami-Izu. Through interactions with the hunters, we learned about their struggles with a lack of successors and the difficulties in handling venison. Furthermore, I learned perspectives on the bear damage problem, which has become an issue nationwide in recent years. They shared the agonizing reality of having to cull bears that come down to human settlements because people half-playfully feed them. While some criticize bear culling in the name of animal welfare, I believe true animal welfare lies in learning how to interact with nature without recklessly approaching plants and animals out of ignorance, and in understanding the boundaries between humans and nature.  In this way, I believe this workshop allowed us to learn about the connection between people and nature, and the boundaries between them, through various activities. Regarding human connections, I felt that here in Shimoda, there exists an open way of interacting that is hard to find in the city. It is a relationship where people are never judged by their job or title, where they are economically independent yet support each other, and where there is no dependency. It is precisely because we view each other on a level playing field that equal exchange is possible. Moreover, thanks to Kazemachi Shimoda, we outsiders could enjoy a wonderful experience without feeling alienated. The people of Shimoda also approached nature in a practical way. While environmental protection and SDGs are often emphasized these days, I believe the most direct path to truly coexisting with nature is through direct, hands-on experience. Not treating nature as something special, yet never taking it for granted—living...

2025 Workshop in Nagano 8.11.2025 Mountain Day

Review essays from the participants

Rice is the center of Japanese beliefs

At Yatsurugi Shrine, I learned for the first time from Chief Priest Miyasaka that rice has always been at the center of Japanese life. It made me realize anew that the way Japanese people are as a people, with our character and traits, is deeply connected to the lifestyle habits of past eras. Furthermore, I was able to experience a form of worship that was incredibly polite and true to its original essence—something I had never experienced before—making it a truly valuable experience.

Language originated in religious rice beliefs

I learned that agriculture (rice cultivation) lies at the core of Japanese Shinto, and that many words in the language have their origins in Shinto rituals.

Honorable Silkworms

It was my first time, but I was able to gain a valuable experience. I think I understand why people in the past referred to silkworms as ‘Okaiko-sama’ (Honorable Silkworms). The dexterity and precision of an era before mechanization—something common across many fields—truly amazes me. It was a tangible sense of that era.

Silk weaving workshop

Experiencing firsthand the immense labor and time invested in creating textiles made me truly appreciate it all over again. I hope Okaya Silk will be revived and that high-quality Japanese silk will endure for generations to come.

Hardship to make silk

I learned so many things I'd never even heard of before, and what surprised me most was that Okaya used to be a famous silk-producing region. Since I'd never really connected Japan with silk before, I couldn't hide my surprise that silk—once renowned as a specialty product even overseas—came from Okaya. Furthermore, seeing the manufacturing process for the first time made me realize just how incredibly difficult it is to create silk fabric from thread. We usually only see the finished, beautiful product, so I learned that reaching that point involves such arduous work.

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