On a hilltop tucked into the northern section of the Kanto Plain in Tochigi Prefecture, Japan is the Asian Rural Institute (ARI), a rural leadership training center and working organic farm. ARI grows and prepares over 90% of what they eat, including fresh fruit, vegetables, rice, wheat and soybeans. In addition they raise pigs, chickens, fish and goats while only occupying 9 hectares (22 acres) of land. They do this all while training rural leaders from around the world to promote peace AND deal with the ever present legacy of the March 11, 2011 earthquake, tsunami, and contamination associated with the Daiichi nuclear power plant meltdown.
It is all this that brought me from Minnesota to Japan to lead a one-month environmental research course at ARI. While the students worked on their research projects they were also required to participate in what ARI calls “Food Life” responsibilities. Each day the crop and vegetables team (comprised of college students, ARI staff and volunteers) harvested and delivered produce to the kitchen while the animal team provided fresh, cleaned eggs – sometimes in light snow! Remember that ARI only brings in 10% of its food; the rest comes from their organic farm. Staples such as ground wheat, rice, and pressed oils are accessed in large storage containers, and a few cold cellars keep recently dug root vegetables and greens crisp. How does this suite of material get transformed into food on our plates? The short answer – it takes a community – a cooking community.
Every day different members of the ARI community – volunteers, staff, and participants – take responsibility for preparing meals. A few of my students, who were a bit unfamiliar with the kitchen, got quite wide-eyed when they were expected to cook – not only cook, but invited to create dishes reminiscent of home. How does one blend cuisine from Japan, Philippines, India, Germany, Thailand, Norway, Cameroon, South Africa, and the United States? Well, it gets… interesting. Every meal becomes an adventure and a creative expression. The kitchen becomes a place of meaningful conversation where people share their life’s stories and how food deeply connects them to memories and to other people. While cutting vegetables for a Philippine inspired noodle stir-fry we discovered how Gil became interested in animal husbandry and studied veterinary medicine before coming to ARI. After volunteering to make six different sheet cakes for an upcoming wedding, we learned about Nagaland, a mountainous state in Northeast India, home to the groom and his cousin, the latter an ARI staff member. There is nothing like learning to bake cakes with freshly ground wheat flour. Being a chemist has some advantages, especially in the kitchen! The German volunteers periodically experimented with ingredients – trying to replicate dishes inspired from home with ingredients found in the ARI kitchen. Even though the seasons put certain limits on the ingredients and rice found its way into every meal, the imaginative efforts of the human mind gave us numerous variations to enjoy.
In each and every case, the food simultaneously served as an offering and an invitation. Expressions of individual or small group collaboration offered sustenance, thanksgiving for the food resources, and respect for the time and energy it took to plant, nurture, harvest, prepare and cook. After the food was delivered to the tables all were invited to partake in the cross-cultural adventure laid before them. We listened to stories and told stories – about ourselves, our hopes and dreams, and our aspirations for the world. Sitting around the table sharing food three times a day provided the stage for building a community at ARI and in extending that community outward into the world that we may live together.
Enjoy the opportunities to live together around your table or that of another! Peace.
This post originally appeared on threetines.com