Weekly Report/ Personality: Paradise found in a rural Kyushu village

Jeffrey Irish, who first arrived in Japan in 1980, has an unusual vocation. More than a decade ago, the California-born writer moved to a remote community in the mountains of southern Kyushu, where he now finds himself in the role of a "community builder."

The village leader's devotion to his elderly neighbors inspires this writer to imagine a comparison to Kenji Miyazawa's famous poem, "Ame nimo Makezu" (Be not defeated by the rain), written on the poet's sickbed in 1931.

"Count yourself last in everything. Put others before you," the poet wrote.

Yet, what if Miyazawa had been an American like this transplanted Californian? He might have written:

"Give up your high-octane corporate career, move to a remote community and cultivate a small garden. Live frugally in a hut once used to watch over cattle and be affectionately known as Zefu-san. Volunteer in the community, visit the bedridden and listen when villagers argue at meetings. Do all this and you will find happiness."

Irish, 48, moved to Tsuchikure village, in the town of Kawanabe, Minami- Kyushu, in 1998. He met his future wife, Sayaka. They married in 2006, eager to live the simple life. Today they have two children, a boy and a girl.

The entire community consists of just 20 households. The average age is 81. Eleven people live alone.

Irish holds the position of kogumiaicho (village head), a one-year post that is held in rotation by the men of the community.

The first meeting of the fiscal year was held in April at the community hall. Two women bustled about, getting ready for the meeting.

A 90-year-old woman called Sae boiled water for tea on a wood-burning stove.

Tae, 71, cooked up a savory stew of tsuwabuki (Japanese silverleaf) and takenoko (bamboo shoots) harvested on the mountain. The two women share the title of assistant to the village head, or kogashita.

Soon, a few more elders arrived, one slowly pushing a cart.

"How are your legs doing, Shizuko-san?" Irish asked one.

"Akino-san, keep up the good work, delivering the newspapers!" he said to another.

Kneeling on tatami, Irish collected the monthly fee of 2,000 yen from each villager as they arrived. The fee covers both the village service charge and donations to the temple, the shrine, the elementary school and so on.

"We should use the money in the village bank account. Isn't 2,000 yen too much to pay?" Mitsuko, 81, asked.

Irish gathered opinions on the matter, and then said: "In the future, we'll have less money coming in and we can expect costs to rise. Let's keep our payments at 2,000 yen for now."

Irish is concerned about the advanced age of the village residents, whose health seems to have deteriorated since 2006, the last year he served as village elder.

One woman, Sachi, 89, collapsed in her garden one day because she forgot to take her medication.

Traditionally, even elderly people who live alone are supposed to be looked after by someone in the community. Still, people fall through the cracks.

"Let's look for new ways in which we can look out for one another. Let's think of what we ourselves can do," Irish said.

The day after the village meeting, Irish met with the official in charge of community care at the Kagoshima prefectural government.

"Why not think of Tsuchikure as a single (old-age care) facility? If we were visited periodically by a doctor, wouldn't that save on medical costs?" he asked the official.

The response was positive. "It costs about 350,000 yen a month to treat a single individual in a nursing home. Your proposal is well worth considering," the official said.

Irish also described Tsuchikure's aging population's problems to a nonprofit welfare organization.

After much animated discussion, the NPO offered to dispatch a care consultant to Tsuchikure.

Irish is working hard to create a "community-centered welfare system" in Tsuchikure. He says villagers working in collaboration with government-provided services is probably the best way to bring good results.

In the meantime, each Tsuchikure resident is responsible for a certain amount of public work: Hisako, for example, is in charge of separating village trash into 19 categories for recycling and disposal.

Satsuo oversees the water supply.

Akino and Yoshi sweep and tidy the path that leads to the cemetery.

Mikio chauffeurs villagers who need to do errands in town.

Each individual takes on a small amount of responsibility, yet together they accomplish a lot. The sense of contentment they derive from their work enables them to feel they are "living to help others."

Could this be what is meant by the phrase "local autonomy"?

In graduate school at Harvard University, Irish studied ethnology and Japanese culture. He felt that "community is the key to happiness," he says.

He recently translated a book called, "Wasurerareta Nihonjin" (The Forgotten Japanese) by Tsuneichi Miyamoto, an anthropologist he admires. The book will be published by Stone Bridge Press in the United States this fall.

His other translation work includes English subtitles for documentary films. He writes in Japanese as well and is a talented wordsmith.

In fact, he met his wife Sayaka through his work for the Minami-Nippon Shimbun. She was an avid reader of his column, in which he sketches daily life in the countryside. His words are meant to inspire people.

Nowadays, American-style capitalism has tainted life all around the world, and yet one can still find "universal values" in traditional communities everywhere, he says.

Actively participating in life in rural Japan and sending out a positive message to the world--this is his mission, Irish believes. (IHT/Asahi: July 4,2009)