At the beginning of February, I was invited to a meeting on 'Honeybees, Flora and Subsistence' at Kyoto University. I decided that the aspect of my research that might be of most interest to a gathering of honeybee specialists would be the 'semi-domestication' of social wasps in Japan. By 'semi-domestication', I just mean neither wholly wild nor wholly domesticated, and while I realise this is a very broad category, I use it out of necessity: There aren't any more fine-grained terms out there just yet, as far as I'm aware, that acknowledge the different stages between the wild and the domestic. 

I think that one of the most interesting things about the way in which social wasps are managed here in rural Japan is that there is no top-down management of wasp keeping. Instead, in recent decades, people have begun to practise 'wasp-husbandry' in an increasingly intensive way. Could this be an example of grassroots domestication, in its early stages?

The picture below shows a present-day wasp hive in Kushihara (left), and diagram of a wasp hive dating from 1916 (right), the earliest known mention of wasp husbandry.

At the conference in Kyoto, thanks to a very interesting presentation by Nicolas Cesard, I was introduced to another potential example of grassroots semi-domestication - the Giant Honeybee (Apis dorsata). This species of bee is found throughout Southeast Asia and usually nests in very tall trees. Sometimes a single tree may have as many as 150 nests. Harvesting the honey and brood* of the giant honeybee is therefore a pretty risky occupation. However, in at least three locations worldwide, people have started to attract the bees to low-lying 'rafters'. The photos below show a giant honeybee colony on a rafter, and diagram explaining the 'rafter' concept.

* 'brood' refers to the larvae. These are also harvested, and sold for a price per kg that exceeds that of the honey itself. Beekeeping is often associated with honey, and products such as wax, propolis, pollen, royal jelly and bee brood might be considered side products.. but when the brood is sold as a luxury item, and a single nest might yield a greater income from larvae than it does from honey, how can one judge what the 'main product' really is?

Recently I was very fortunate to spend a few days at a local sake brewery, Lady of the Castle (女城主) in Iwamura, a beautiful castle town nearby. My intention was to learn enough about the sake brewing process to help introduce Alex, a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend, to a week of fine-tuned rice fermentation in sub zero temperatures. 

You can read about his experiences at the Foodish Boy, a blog he writes regularly as he travels the world working in many different food- and drink-related jobs.

Perhaps predictably, I enjoyed the whole experience far too much. Sake tasting is fun, but learning all about the details behind the drink - the chemistry, the artistry and the magic touch that govern the decisions of the master brewer, not to mention the social and political history of the brewery business itself - was an absolutely unique experience that I wouldn't have missed for anything. 

Also, getting to know the people at the brewery was pretty inspiring. Sake is only brewed during the cold winter months, and therefore most brewery workers have an alternative occupation during the remainder of the year. For example, at the Lady of the Castle brewery, Kurata-san is a potter, and Suzuki-san (the toji - master brewer) is a rice farmer. Both are passionated about their work - and passionate about sake.

One day, Suzuki-san asked me if I might bring some insects for them to try. Since it's really not the season for insects in Japan at the moment (I'd have to buy frozen wasp larvae from China, perhaps...) I decided to bring caterpillars. I cooked them with homegrown radish, turnip leaves and local miso hoping that this might make for a dish with a warming, winter flavour that the sake workers would be familiar with. 

They seemed to go down quite well! I also brought along some salted termites, which are always a winner. In return, Suzuki-san gave me a very rare and delicious gift - funazushi. This is essentially fish packed with rice which is then salted, fermented, and aged for up to four years. It has a strong smell, a strong flavour, and like all good things makes for excellent tsumami. 

It snowed overnight on 18th January, and I took these photos first thing the next morning. Then, I went for a walk in the forest, and discovered the diversity of small animals that tread the same paths as I do in the mornings - four-footed animals with padded feet, four-footed animals with hooves, and two-footed tracks of birds all crossed paths with each other in the early hours between midnight and 6am..

I've never really enjoyed the snow until now, but when the sun is shining and your clothes are thick enough to withstand the cold - and when it's warmer outside than inside! - going out in the snow feels great. Apparently it's good for the vegetables, too - I've been told my chinese cabbages (which look like a row of little white hills right now) will taste better thanks to the snowfall.

It does become a bit of a hassle, though, when it snows for 36 hours straight as it did this weekend (February 8th), and settles very resolutely at about 15cm thick. Then, cars stop moving, the steep mountain roads are cordoned off, and it's a race to shovel it all to one side before the snow freezes to ice and can no longer be shifted. But while I have no idea how and when to act in order to avoid these kinds of problems, people here are used to it and have experienced heavy snowfall in February for as long as anyone can remember. For example, check out this very cool hat, which enables you to work outside while the snow continues to fall:

January was a brilliant month, mainly because lots of my friends came to visit Kushihara! We had a great time, and I've been catching up on the work I missed ever since.

Firstly, we drove all the way from Tokyo to Kushihara, through snow and sunshine, and caught a glimpse of Mt Fuji on the way:

Then, arriving in Kushihara on the 3rd, we were invited to some new years celebrations. A really nice welcome back to the village! Here's a picture of Konstantin playing with some children...sweet :) ...and, the following day, helping butcher a 100kg wild boar..slightly less sweet.

Here is a picture of us posing with the boar. I should clarify that we didn't play any part whatsoever in catching it. It had been hunted down and shot earlier in the day by some members of the Kushihara hunting crew, who hunt in the mountainous forests surrounding the village every weekend during hunting season, which lasts from October to March. They often catch smaller boar in cages and snares, but this was the first time I'd seen them return with such a large animal. We were invited to the celebrations that followed.

...And, like all good celebrations, it all ended with traditional dancing...

...which, like all good traditional dancing, ended with a spectacular fall and a couple of head injuries. Luckily sake is a great anaesthetic.

We had a few more parties in Kushihara after that, with more dancing, more sake and more delicious food from the mountains. (And fireworks, though everyone was too busy nearly getting killed to worry about taking photos). Below are pictures of giant hornet canapes and a delicious termite-tofu salad:

Introducing all the various wonderful things in Kushihara to my friends was a lot of fun. However, we had agreed in advance that we would also go and see a place that none of us had ever been before, a place we'd always wanted to see - the snow monkey onsen!

We went to Nagano prefecture, and the snow was incredible. We stayed in Shibu onsen town, in a lovely ryokan which gave us keys to wander freely around the town in yukata, bath-hopping. The ryokan owners also let us use their cooking facilities to make a particularly good pizza. And in the morning, we went to visit the snow monkeys.

I don't have a picture of everyone who came to visit, but this photo (above) was taken on our last day. Shortly after this photo was taken, we made the amazing discovery that the town we were staying in not only appeared to have more hot springs than people, but also happened to be home to a winery, a sake factory and a beer brewery. All of which offered free tastings. A spectacular end to a pretty amazing couple of weeks.

And so..I want to end this blog post with a proper heartfelt thank you, for all of these January adventures :) I was worried about winter. I thought it might be cold and lonely. After all, there are no hornets to hunt, no wasps to chase, no grasshoppers to catch, and the fields are covered in frost (if not snow) on most mornings. But thanks to my friends who came to visit me, and to the generosity of spirit and hospitality of everyone here in Kushihara, I've had an unforgettable start to the year.