This was really informative, thank you! Maybe it's just tea ceremony but when we work with the hibachi, it does heat up the entire room, especially the seat by the fire... And I've gotten sick from it before. It's great to get some more context for this device I've only ever experienced in tea rooms!
Interesting to read that it heats up the entire room. The fact that you having gotten sick from it seems to suggest that the room is not well-ventilated. Perhaps that accounts for it?
I hope you like the additional stories about the hibachi as well. The next one will go live this Tuesday. It goes a bit deeper into the hibachi's role, and the role that women played in their upkeep.
Your point is well taken that modern conveniences of heat and AC to curb our discomfort from the elements also creates a somewhat artificial environment that reduces the social interaction of sitting around a hibachi in the winter.
Recently on a trip to Iceland I visited the turf home museum where you really got a sense of how people lived with the cold and created what comfort that was available to them.
Thank you, Glennis. It is extremely comfortable and convenient. But unfortunately, every move forward comes at a price…
It was nice to have those memories triggered. I live far away from the people I grew up with, and the places I grew up in. Additionally, my parents and sister, with whom I was extremely close, are no longer around. So, I get few opportunities to bring these memories back to the surface.
Thank you for this. Though most Japanese homes now have heat pumps and the like, I feel like the life experience is missing things like depth, slowness, contemplation, and maybe most of all, an appreciation of life itself.
We lived in an 80 year old townhouse in Osaka for some years and purposely did NOT install a modern heating or cooling system. There were definitely some days that were difficult, but I have never felt more appreciation for the simple things in my life as I did in that time.
This writing and the images remind me of how the slightly painful experience of being cold when one gets up in the morning, makes us also pay more attention and appreciation to a hot cup of tea, or the warmth of a kotatsu or hibachi, or all the modern conveniences we do have.
Personally, I found that way of life helped me to limit (not over-indulge or take for granted) those conveniences. Heaven knows, we all can get far too carried away with our own inventions!
I am not sure that this can be understood by anyone who has not experienced it, but I am relatively certain that once you do, your view of life will change in a good way ;-)
Also, we didn't have a hibachi, but after reading this, I would consider one for our future home ;-)
Thank you for your thoughtful comment, Patrick, and for sharing your experience of living in an 80 year old townhouse in Osaka.
I understand what you are describing. When I grew up, my parents had a house in the center of a small town, and a small wooden cottage in the countryside that we used from spring through autumn.
When I was young the city house only had a coal stove in the living room. This was in the Netherlands at a time when winter temperatures were regularly below zero degrees centigrade. When I woke up in the morning the windows in my bedroom were frozen on the inside. It was torture to get up. The first duty of the day was to get coal from the cellar and light the stove. As soon as it started to give off warmth life seemed to return to the house.
The temperatures in the cottage were bearable because we were never there in winter, but there was no electricity, gas, or running water. Every so many weeks we picked up a new large gas tank for cooking and returned the used up one. And every day we carried water from a nearby source. In the evening we played games and talked under the light of traditionally shaped kerosene lamps.
These are actually some of my best memories. My research of hibachi brought me many happy points of recognition.
I totally agree with you that experiencing this makes one appreciate the smaller things of life more. We take so many of our modern conveniences for granted…
I appreciate your writing a lot, and hearing this story from your childhood is really touching somehow. And all this talk reminds me of that song about not wanting to get out of your futon...
The introduction of the restroom in this song unleashed a long forgotten memory. This memory probably should have stayed forgotten, but here we go. I do after all write about daily life in the past…
It was very cold in winter and the restroom was far away from the bedroom with a climb down a very steep set of stairs. So steep actually that my older brother often tumbled down. I was more careful. The cottage had no running water, so the restroom was an even longer walk to a nearby community building.
To get around these problems there was a chamber pot below the bed for ‘emergencies’. It was emptied in the morning.
Chambers pots used to be quite common in the past, but I doubt many people today have ever seen one outside a museum. Many people probably don’t even know they existed and were found in every house…
This was really informative, thank you! Maybe it's just tea ceremony but when we work with the hibachi, it does heat up the entire room, especially the seat by the fire... And I've gotten sick from it before. It's great to get some more context for this device I've only ever experienced in tea rooms!
Thank you, Vanessa.
Interesting to read that it heats up the entire room. The fact that you having gotten sick from it seems to suggest that the room is not well-ventilated. Perhaps that accounts for it?
I hope you like the additional stories about the hibachi as well. The next one will go live this Tuesday. It goes a bit deeper into the hibachi's role, and the role that women played in their upkeep.
Yes, usually it's a small 6-mat room so that would explain it (although my sensei tries to ventilate it as much as she can...)
Looking forward to future stories on the hibachi!
Great photos too!
Your point is well taken that modern conveniences of heat and AC to curb our discomfort from the elements also creates a somewhat artificial environment that reduces the social interaction of sitting around a hibachi in the winter.
Recently on a trip to Iceland I visited the turf home museum where you really got a sense of how people lived with the cold and created what comfort that was available to them.
Loved your childhood remembrances as well.
Thank you, Glennis. It is extremely comfortable and convenient. But unfortunately, every move forward comes at a price…
It was nice to have those memories triggered. I live far away from the people I grew up with, and the places I grew up in. Additionally, my parents and sister, with whom I was extremely close, are no longer around. So, I get few opportunities to bring these memories back to the surface.
Thank you for this. Though most Japanese homes now have heat pumps and the like, I feel like the life experience is missing things like depth, slowness, contemplation, and maybe most of all, an appreciation of life itself.
We lived in an 80 year old townhouse in Osaka for some years and purposely did NOT install a modern heating or cooling system. There were definitely some days that were difficult, but I have never felt more appreciation for the simple things in my life as I did in that time.
This writing and the images remind me of how the slightly painful experience of being cold when one gets up in the morning, makes us also pay more attention and appreciation to a hot cup of tea, or the warmth of a kotatsu or hibachi, or all the modern conveniences we do have.
Personally, I found that way of life helped me to limit (not over-indulge or take for granted) those conveniences. Heaven knows, we all can get far too carried away with our own inventions!
I am not sure that this can be understood by anyone who has not experienced it, but I am relatively certain that once you do, your view of life will change in a good way ;-)
Also, we didn't have a hibachi, but after reading this, I would consider one for our future home ;-)
Thank you for your thoughtful comment, Patrick, and for sharing your experience of living in an 80 year old townhouse in Osaka.
I understand what you are describing. When I grew up, my parents had a house in the center of a small town, and a small wooden cottage in the countryside that we used from spring through autumn.
When I was young the city house only had a coal stove in the living room. This was in the Netherlands at a time when winter temperatures were regularly below zero degrees centigrade. When I woke up in the morning the windows in my bedroom were frozen on the inside. It was torture to get up. The first duty of the day was to get coal from the cellar and light the stove. As soon as it started to give off warmth life seemed to return to the house.
The temperatures in the cottage were bearable because we were never there in winter, but there was no electricity, gas, or running water. Every so many weeks we picked up a new large gas tank for cooking and returned the used up one. And every day we carried water from a nearby source. In the evening we played games and talked under the light of traditionally shaped kerosene lamps.
These are actually some of my best memories. My research of hibachi brought me many happy points of recognition.
I totally agree with you that experiencing this makes one appreciate the smaller things of life more. We take so many of our modern conveniences for granted…
And like you I am considering a hibachi!
I appreciate your writing a lot, and hearing this story from your childhood is really touching somehow. And all this talk reminds me of that song about not wanting to get out of your futon...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yv6shy_9KVM
Haha, I didn’t know that song.
The introduction of the restroom in this song unleashed a long forgotten memory. This memory probably should have stayed forgotten, but here we go. I do after all write about daily life in the past…
It was very cold in winter and the restroom was far away from the bedroom with a climb down a very steep set of stairs. So steep actually that my older brother often tumbled down. I was more careful. The cottage had no running water, so the restroom was an even longer walk to a nearby community building.
To get around these problems there was a chamber pot below the bed for ‘emergencies’. It was emptied in the morning.
Chambers pots used to be quite common in the past, but I doubt many people today have ever seen one outside a museum. Many people probably don’t even know they existed and were found in every house…
I don’t recall there were any songs about this 😉
Hahah! Sounds like there *should* be a song about it, but I'm definitely not going to go searching for it :-D
There probably is a song about the steep Dutch stairs, though 😅
Here is one of countless articles about this phenomenon:
https://dutchreview.com/dutch-quirks/dutch-quirk-71-have-narrow-and-steep-stairs/
It makes you marvel at how far we've come.
Very true. But after researching this essay I also became painfully aware of how much we have lost…
I guess we'll be saying the same thing about smartphones and electric cars in the future.
Lots of people are already saying now that smartphones have made people lonelier… Community and closeness to people you care for is a powerful thing.