On one sleepy afternoon in Ojika, a young girl came to our sharehouse door and told us to join her on an adventure. It seemed to be encased in secrecy, since she kept asking us to plug our ears so as not to hear the whisperings of plans (even though my Japanese is elementary at best, so I'd only understand a very small percentage). We followed her to a group of kids who were holding fishing nets and set off down a dirt pathway into an area that was green and vast, with small streams of water running along the edges of the road. The kids excitedly scooped out large chunks of brown goop from the water, and we quickly realised that their nets were teeming with life.
"Ebi-chan!" one of them shouted, smiling with glee as she took a small shrimp from the pile on the concrete and put it into one of their tiny yellow buckets. The other children sifted through the muddy grass and picked up tiny fish, occasionally shrieking and giggling and putting one in my hand, watching it wriggle around. These tiny fish are called 'Medaka,' めだか (rice fish), and they're actually almost extinct in the mainland, but are plentiful on Japanese islands.
While Ojika Island only has around 2,200 residents, the island has a large population of young children. The school, which is quite large, is home to over 10 students per grade. While the birth rate in Japan is extremely low overall, it is significantly higher in the countryside than in major cities. Many families on Ojika decide to have children, and a lot of them have two or more.
Life on Ojika has changed throughout the years, with the introduction of the internet. Before the worldwide web, there was much more mystery attached to the vast majority of the world for young people here, beyond the tiny island they called home. With the world only available through the TV, without any Facebook, YouTube, Instagram, it became a magnetic pull for any young person to leave.
Back in the day, teenagers were teased and told that they should leave Ojika in order to see the vast open world. Today, however, life on Ojika seems more and more inviting. Without the added allure of a lack of contact with the outside world, Ojika is no longer quite as isolated. Instead, children are now encouraged to stay and taught about the variety of options they have to create a rewarding island life.
After finishing school, most teenagers leave Ojika to attend university or explore the world. There is a local colloquial expression, "U Turn" to describe the young adults who decide to return to Ojika after finishing their studies, or traveling adventures. "I Turn," is used to describe residents of Ojika who come from elsewhere in Japan and decide to call Ojika home.
In fact, the Japanese government, fearful of falling populations in the many islands and vast countryside areas (only 400 of the 4,000 islands of Japan are currently populated) creates incentives for individuals and families to move to countryside. Many individuals who take a multiple year contract decide to open up a business, with support from the government as well. With a more relaxing, less overwhelming atmosphere, more community, nature and less concrete - it's no wonder many city dwellers who try out island life decide to stay.
Personally, after living in Tokyo for 6 months and coming to Ojika, being here is a breath of fresh air. I can imagine that the children who experience such an open and relaxed childhood would itch to experience new things. However, as many people say: the grass is always greener on the other side.
After we spent some time fishing, we were led down a small pathway to where there was a pond and tunnel. The kids then had lots of fun splashing us and trying to push us into the water (I had to say だめ, 危ない "Dame, abunai," "No please, that's dangerous!" because I was a bit nervous about hitting the rocks on the bottom). We mostly had to communicate with the children using an iPhone and Google Translate, which was a funny experience.
Then, they all convinced us to give them piggy-back rides all the way home, where they began doing cartwheels and wrestling with eachother.
The main thing I learned from an afternoon adventuring with the children of Ojika is that even though I couldn't understand most of what they were saying, and they come from such a different background to my own...kids are always kids. It made me think about how as I've grown up, I've become less accustomed to spontaneous messy adventures featuring mud, rocks, ending up soaking wet, and lots of laughter.
While many would say that their fear about living on a quiet, sparsely populated island is lack of things to do, they surely didn't think of pond fishing and cartwheels, which make much better memories than sitting behind a screen. The truth is, while we've all become accustomed to constant entertainment featuring technology, and $20 ticket prices...there's always fun to be had, and we don't actually have to look that far for it. Perhaps we all could learn something from them!
