Encounter at Yamabushi Falls - Memories of Sanka and Otakarashu (1983)

Encounter at Yamabushi Falls - Memories of Sanka and Otakarashu (1983)

The old man was a drifter who made his living as a bamboo craftsman. He began to talk without hesitation about the topography of the mountains, the efficacy of plants and trees, and the ecology of birds and fish. As the echoes of his Owari dialect echoed through the forest, one could feel the "living knowledge" in each word he spoke. The old man's words seemed to speak more eloquently of his memories of the land than the excavated pottery shards. This encounter led him to shift his interest from academic research to folklore research, and by March of the following year, he had interviewed the old man seven times.

The "Otakarashu," as the old man described them, were a group of drifter bamboo craftsmen who existed in the Owari region. They toured farming villages, making, repairing, and selling such items as winnows, miso strainers, vegetable baskets, and fish baskets. They were not mere peddlers, but took pride in their work as artisans who supported rural life in the countryside. The Otakarashu's products were exquisite, and a wide variety of bamboo crafts were recorded, including tentego (fish catching baskets), kusaikaki (vegetable baskets), and misokoshi (miso strainers). According to the old man's story, they had a code of fellowship called "kimari," and lived together in a temporary village called "hatamura," moving seasonally.

On the other hand, "Sanka" is a general term for drifters who lived in the mountains and fields. They lived a life of shuttling between mountains and villages, maintaining a distance from settled society while engaging in such activities as bamboo crafting, charcoal making, and gathering medicinal herbs. The Sanka existed throughout Japan, but the Owari and Mino areas were particularly unique as Otakarashu. In other words, while the Sanka were a general term for a wide range of drifters, the Otakarashu were a local branch of the Sanka and a community that inherited more practical skills.

Through this encounter, the Sanka, who had been told as a legend, emerged as a real people living in reality. The old man's story was filled with the quiet pride of those who live in the mountains and with the wind. Listening to his voice was in itself an act of capturing the memory of a vanishing lifestyle and culture. This scene, in which academic perspectives and human warmth intersect, is not merely a record of folklore, but remains a quiet reverberation as "a chance encounter with a waterfall of mountain priests.