It Started With A Phone Call

A few days ago I received a phone call. I had almost no idea what the guy on the other end was saying in his local dialect. He obviously knew me, and I had obviously met him before, but almost the only thing I could catch was "Sunday.... 10:00". Despite not knowing what I was committing myself to, I agreed and waited eagerly for Sunday, 10:00 when I would find out what fun activity was in store.

We didn't know until yesterday morning, when the phone rang at 9:30, that we were on our way to a soba (buckwheat noodle) party. We had a chance to partake in every part of the soba making, from kneading the dough, to rolling it, and cutting the noodles, and finally eating it. This was followed by a mochi (pounded rice) party, where we helped pound the rice, and finally a village harvest party (see the photo where two men are pounding a blob of rice with two wooden hammers. If you pound the rice enough, it becomes a large sticky mess that is responsible for many choking deaths each new-year season).

This harvest party was similar to the one we attended for our own village a few weeks ago, but different in that the men and women all sat separate, and it lasted much longer - with much more drinking and even a nijikai "second party". Hmmmm... maybe this village is more fun than the one we live in.

The photos on this post are of some of the people we met there.