Once or twice a week, I have to walk past quite a large rice field. As the year progresses, it’s always fascinating to see how the seasons change, as reflected in the rice field.
Right now, the field is bare. It’s just brown earth with a few dead stalks, presumably from last year’s rice plants, mixed into the soil. Now we’re in February, though, it won’t be too long before the farmers start to flood their fields and then plant their rice seedlings.
Thinking about it, rice planting must be- or, at least, have been- a back-breaking job. Nowadays it’s done mainly by a little planting machine on which the farmer rides. (By the way, the machines are apparently incredibly expensive, especially given that realistically, they’re used once a year.) But I’d say that even now, in the corners of fields and places where the planting machine can’t get to, the job is still back-breaking because the farmer has to plant every single rice plant by hand, individually. You can see why more and more people are retiring from rice cultivation, and why fewer and fewer young people are choosing it as a job.
It’s a real shame, really. And maybe it’s a bit of a chicken and egg situation, but it’s noticeable how much the rice fields- in this area, at least- have declined in number over the past few decades.
Saijo, where I live, is famous for sake. In fact, it’s one of the three largest sake-producing regions in Japan. It’s always said that it’s partly because of the water, partly because of the climate, and partly because of the rice. But it really is quite noticeable, and in a way quite amazing, how much the rice fields have declined in number. You have to wonder how much longer rice farming will be a viable thing in these parts, and that begs the question, will there come a time when Higashihiroshima City is no longer renowned for its sake?
