Never Cry WWOOF

Inconvenient, you say? That sounds perfect! After almost three months of a volunteer placement in Niseko that was so cushy at times that it had me feeling like I'd won an all expenses-paid snowboard vacation I was more than up for something a little more rustic. Something a little more in line with the reasons I became interested in the WWOOF program in the first place. Ecology. Organic agriculture. Acceptable lapses in personal hygiene.

Hell, there were days when I headed in from the powder-laden slopes to a deliciously prepared supper after a mere hour or two of cleaning in the morning and I actually felt guilty. Guilty! Inconvenience was not only something I could overlook, it seemed to feel like penance owed. Besides, this was Japan. Matters dealing with bureaucracy aside, inconvenient meant having to cope with a room-temperature toilet seat. Right?

Well as it turns out, my host had been accurate in his word choice. Having the closest telephone a five-minute walk away from your living quarters might be considered inconvenient. Being completely alone on the property at night and having nowhere to go because it is pitch black is a little inconvenient. Only one FM radio station as entertainment borders on inconvenient.

Having the closest store of any kind a 20-minute drive away definitely qualifies as inconvenient. Having no running water is inconvenient in most peoples' books to be sure; I don't care how much of a nature-lover you are.

Of course, I've exaggerated all this. Or at least, I've left details out. The water lines in my trailer house were repaired several days after my arrival. Another WWOOFer showed up later in the week. The one FM station turned out to be pretty good (thumbs up on the leadoff single from the new Ben Folds album). The time alone afforded me ample opportunity to read and write. And despite my formerly near symbiotic relationship with my cellular phone it didn't feel wrong to have to cross a river to make a call.

I WWOOFed for a month at my host in Shizunai, Hokkaido. Shizunai, on the southern coast isn't known for much other than raising horses and a 7km riverside stretch of cherry trees that draw the hanami crowds. Though not yet officially open for the season, my host was kind of an organic ranch that had a hotel, organic food restaurant, small organic vegetable field, and offered hiking, camping, and horse trekking. It called it itself a "cultural educational promotion foundation."

I more or less saw it as a kind of organic ranch catering to rich urbanites looking for an earthy, country vacation; whom I suppose are the people who would need that sort of holiday most. My idealistic leanings had me hoping that the place did manag to work in some of the educational aspect into their guests' stay.

A lot of my work wasn't especially noteworthy in and of itself. Chopping firewood, transporting hay bales, clearing land and building fences for a new horse paddock. The one exception was that I had the opportunity to help take care of and assist in training the horses.

The place had nine horses altogether, including two miniature ones. Being a suburban kid and never having grown up around horses it was very rewarding to have the chance to work with them. Along with brushing and feeding them, cleaning out their stalls, and helping the trainer. The host had recently purchased three horses and they still had to get used to people and being ridden so I had the chance to ride for the first time in my life.

In a few short weeks I became quite comfortable in the saddle and quite attached to a chestnut mare and a painted pony named Yoshinori. Yoshinori gained the privilege of being the first horse I have ever ridden. He also gained the less savory distinction of being the first horse to step on my baby toe causing it to swell into a ripe, Beaujolais grape.

In the end, this WWOOF experience became exactly what I didn't know I needed. It was a piece of the perspective that I've been searching for. It wasn't about the place, or people who astounded me with their radical thinking, but a perspective brought about through absence rather than presence. A slight sharpening of just what exactly it is that those blurry notions of "the good life" and "enough" might mean. My own temporary holiday from material superfluousness.

I'm back in civilization now. Back in Niseko actually, at another pension for the spring. I'm happy to have access to satellite radio and TV, the internet, and a toasty toilet seat again. But some of that perspective that I breathed in along with the fresh air in Shizunai still lingers with me.

Matt Uchimaru is a former Hiroshima resident turned WWOOFer. He can be reached by email here.

For more information on the WWOOF program in Japan:

WWOOF Japan
Honcho 2-jo, 3-chome 6-7
Higashi-ku, Sapporo
065-0042 JAPAN
www.wwoofjapan.com