Bucking the trend of migration to cities, Many young Japanese have returned to fishing villages like Toshijima both to make a living and preserve ancient traditions. Photo by Paul Varian.

Editor’s note: Paul Varian, retired CNN writer, editor and senior executive producer, visited Japan on a trip hosted by the Mie prefecture and organized by the Japan Foreign Ministry. 

Bucking the trend of urban migration, many young people in Japan are returning to smaller communities preserve or even revitalize cherished traditions in a country beset by a rapidly aging population — all while making a living in the process. 

This was a theme that played out for international reporters, including this one representing Global Atlanta, on a government-sponsored tour of the Ise-Shima region before the G7 summit there in late May.

In the Pacific island community of Toshijima, officials recruit the sons of local fishermen from their jobs in big cities to reap profits from innovative fishing management practices pioneered by their fathers.

Chihara Hashimoto found life in the big city lonely, so she returned to help operate a bed and breakfast.
Chihara Hashimoto found life in the big city lonely, so she returned to help operate a bed and breakfast.

Chihara Hashimoto, who grew up on the island, came back home at her parents’ request after working three years in a mainland clothing boutique and studying to become a licensed chef.

She says she found life in the big city lonely and they needed her help operating a bed and breakfast. She’s now married with four children and runs a traditional Japanese inn owned by her husband, greeting guests in the lobby wearing an elegant kimono. A sister helps her mother at the B&B. 

The son of the only man in the city of Suzuka still manually producing the black ink used for calligraphy — a craft with a 1,200-year history there — quit his job as a security guard in Tokyo to help keep the family business going after reading a story about his father’s plans to shut it down.

“He felt he was the last hope,” our interpreter told us.

Harunobu Ito, 28, is working on potential new products for his father's manually produced calligraphy ink, including a ballpoint pen, and hopes to expand the international market via Amazon.com.
Harunobu Ito, 28, is working on potential new products for his father’s manually produced calligraphy ink, including a ballpoint pen, and hopes to expand the international market via Amazon.com.

The son, Harunobu Ito, 28, is working on potential new products for the ink, including a ballpoint pen, and hopes to expand the international market via Amazon.com.

With a birth rate nearly as stagnant as its economy, and virtually no immigrants, Japan’s population has shrunk by 1 million since 2010 and could dip below 100 million in the next 40 years.

Life expectancy reached 83 in 2013, one of the highest in the world, and a third of Japan’s population is 65 or older, a number that is expected to rise to 40 percent by 2055.

Japan’s big cities — Tokyo, Osaka and Nagoya — have long been overcrowded due to the influx of young people looking for good jobs, but some are now returning home to help their aging parents.

Fishing is the big draw in Toshijima where the average age of those working in the industry is lower than the national average, even though the island has lost a third of its population in the past 20 years.

The fishing industry employs 617 of Toshijima’s 2,229 residents — 27 percent of them 65 or older, and 11 percent in their teens to 30s.

Pakayuki Nakamura came back after three years of working in a factory making flat-screen TVs.  Now 34, he married three years ago, makes double what he made in the factory, and  says, “I enjoy this much more.”

Mr. Nakamura’s work day starts at 2:30 a.m.  He goes out on one boat to catch baby sardines while his older brother fishes from another boat and his parents use a third.

Most fishing families operate two or three boats, which are expensive but but can last a lifetime if cared for properly. The government subsidizes commercial boat purchases.

A fisherman brings in a fresh catch off Toshijima. Photo by Paul Varian.
A fisherman brings in a fresh catch off Toshijima. Photo by Paul Varian.

Akira Yamase, 31, cultures nori seaweed — used as a wrap for sushi — and uses octopus pots to catch octopus in the autumn. He left a job in a bread bakery to join the family business and lighten the load on his aging grandparents.

He says on a good day he can catch as many as 100 octopus — a haul worth up to $1,000, depending on the size of the fish.

“The more you catch, the more money you get.  So it’s lucrative,” Mr. Yamase said. Snapper and flounder also are plentiful.

Toshijima fish fetch premium prices in Tokyo and other markets — often double that of the competition — because they are sold fresh from special fish tanks that keep them alive for auctions at a fishery so clean it hardly even smells. 

No fish ever touches the ground, and humans are required to wash their hands, wear ball caps and sponge clean the soles of their shoes before being allowed near the fish tanks.

Sales last year totaled more than $45 million, according to Kohay Acomoda, director of the island’s fishers cooperative.

He said the cooperative’s younger members are actively involved in a project to restore seaweed beds and sustain sea life against the threats posed by overfishing, pollution and ocean warming.

The project has become a model for neighboring fishing communities, Mr. Acomoda said.

“We want to keep this island a beautiful and rich island, so the youngsters will come back,” he said.

Toshijima attracts 3,000 visitors a year, many of them schoolchildren on class trips. Acomoda said the visitors are drawn by the island’s “unique culture, lifestyle and customs.”

Our group got a close-up glimpse of one such custom — a rite of passage for boys about to enter adulthood.

It’s called neyako, and Toshijima is the only place in Japan where the ancient custom is still practiced. 

We went to a household where six boys between the ages of 15 and 26 live part-time with their parents and part-time at the home of a fisherman and his wife who are bringing up two daughters of their own.

Being a neyako "son", something like a live-in fisherman's apprentice, is like living in an expanded family of new friends your own age, the young men told Global Atlanta. Photo by Paul Varian.
Being a neyako “son”, something like a live-in fisherman’s apprentice, is like living in an expanded family of new friends your own age, the young men told Global Atlanta. Photo by Paul Varian.

The boys said it’s like living in an expanded family of new friends your own age. The dad told us he felt more like their big brother than their father.

No money is exchanged. The boys eat supper with their own families but often come to the neya parents’ home to spend the night.

The six boys are not always there at the same time, but they must share the same bedroom, and it’s not very big. Occasional drinking is allowed, but no smoking.

There are no curfews. The young men can come and go as they please. The doors of the home are never locked.

“Neyako is fun,” said Yuya Yamashita, a 26-year-old who says he greatly benefited from his experience at a home other than the one we visited.

“Everyone does it because they want to. As a teenager, it was easier to talk to my neya parents than my own parents, and they gave me a lot of advice.”

The adults learn a lot, too.

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