The Memory of Ainokura

by Winona Cheyenne Nata (Indonesia)

Making a local connection Japan

The Memory of Ainokura Ainokura. The lovely name of a small vilage on the slope of a green hill in Toyama Prefecture, Japan. The village is sprinkled with snow, and the thatched roofs of the small traditional houses are covered with thin white blankets. Stepping inside Choyomon, an encounter with friendly Mayumi-san, a local Gassho-Zukuri homeowner, sends warmth after warmth that creeps away the cold. After a short hike on a village road that twists and turns, only occasionally interrupted by rows of tall fragrant pine trees, the subtle smiles of warmth hold a great impact. Mayumi-san has prepared a small cup of hot Ocha and a piece of traditional cake. It is sweet, thin, soft, and the nicest that I have ever tasted in my journey so far. Although I can never pronounce its name correctly, it has left an impression that is neatly stored in my memory of taste. I take small bites to let the pleasure stay with me longer. Finally, it comes to pass with the last drop of my Ocha. The sweetness still lingers, a memento along with the dryness of the warm Ocha cup which I hold tightly in my left hand. The crisp-coldness of my cheeks have gotten stiff through the harsh winter wind and freshly scattered with young, soft snowflakes. Slowly they began to flex because of the warmth of the embers of the campfire in the middle of the living room of her traditional Japanese farmhouse. A metal teapot rises about twenty centimeters above the embers. It was filled with hot water to make tea. Sitting on the tatami floor in the kimono provided by Mayumi-san, soon we meet the other guests – one man from Tokyo and a family of three from China. Although our English is limited, the smiles on everybody’s face are the good signs that we welcome each other into our memory of this moment. It gets warm and cozy because we all and Mayumi-san can relax and share stories of our different backgrounds. We continue our questioning and answering during dinner – a Japanese dinner set which looks delicate and complicated. There is the fish which has just been roasted on the pile of hot coals under the teapot. The famous miso soup is in the small cup with lid. The Japanese rice is also well known for its taste and texture. The steamed vegetables, like carrot and yam, and also the steamed tofu with shredded scallions have completed the culinary experience. Not to be left out are the pickled stem of radish and the sour plum. Perfect. Friendliness that feels natural are flowing between the topics of conversation tonight. It moves from geography, nature, season, history, culture, food, music, language, movies, to pop songs of the past. Each is closed with a laughter together, knowing how amazingly each of our worlds has been formed and how special that tonight we find out some similarities and differences among us. The interaction has flown very communicatively that makes me learn a lot and awakens my love for nature. Old cultural paper umbrellas, centuries-old tatami management, traditional clothing that does not change from time to time, ancient procedures and culture that are still preserved with a deep willingness, thatched roofs, paper windows with special box frames with fine architectural details, making everything that feels beautiful, integrated and bound together in a truly sweet way. Adding one’s knowledge, increasing one’s experience, making one’s friend, heightens one’s feeling of love and appreciation mean that there is also a greater sense of gratitude to the Creator. Although day and night have passed thoughtlessly, the taste of Mayumi’s homemade cakes still faintly tease at the tip of my tongue, the warm air around the fireplace still ghosts my cheeks, and the original friendly voices of the people in Ainokura ring in my ears through the song "Yama otoko no Uta", which I learned there. Ainokura, Ainokura, apparently I learned a lot there. Ainokura, Ainokura, apparently I love Ainokura.