Hey, I’m Jackie – Intern #191 from Australia.
BEFORE OBUBU
I first came to Obubu on a tea tour in 2018. It was my first time solo travelling, and being a “go big or go home” kind of person, I had five weeks to get lost in Japan. Eager to get beyond Tokyo, I found Wazuka in a YouTube video*. It didn’t mention Obubu specifically, but it didn’t take long on Google to find them and their tea tours.
Now, as any Australian conscious in the 2010s can attest, T2 is single-handedly responsible for my love of tea. Their black storefronts were the perfect backdrop to towers of colourful teawares, with staff constantly parading around with trays of free samples. Crème Brûlée, Peachberry, Apple Crumble — flavours more at home on a dessert menu than in a teacup. I was never fully converted from sample-stealer to consumer, but the seed was planted. I booked the tea tour straight away.
I have a terrible memory — it’s a running joke amongst my oldest friends. From what I do remember of that day, I was the only guest. Two interns — or was it three? — drank our way through the Obubu catalogue. For lunch, we ate matcha soba noodles together, and I found myself asking questions about their internship experience. Could I be like them? Although the details from that day have faded, I fell in love with the tea fields — and many years later, I still remained starry-eyed at the thought of spending three months amongst them.
However, time moved on. I returned to Australia weeks late to a degree I’d drop out of a year later. I’d change careers. Twice. Dye my hair — orange, pink, blonde, red. I’d grow it out. Chop it off. Move homes. Travel to new places — Bali, Los Angeles, Mexico City. Until finally, Japan became a place I visited only in my IG Stories archive. And the internship? A passing thought.
Me back in 2018. Why am I holding oranges? I couldn’t tell you.
Years later, as 2024 came to a close, I was feeling restless and at a crossroads. It was time for a side quest. Luckily, as a freelancer in the film industry, I can just pack up and go.
I opened my laptop, Googled Obubu, went to the internship page, scrolled down to the application form — and clicked submit.
*Kyoto Hidden Spots: Secret Japanese Tea Town by Internationally ME.
DURING OBUBU
The 65 bus from Kamo to Wazuka is everyone’s entry into town. It winds its way along the river, under the cover of trees, before opening up to endless, rolling tea fields. I left my luggage on the seat and ran to the back window. It was straight out of a Ghibli film. Or maybe places like this are why Ghibli films are the way they are.
[Bus photos]
My suitcase had been giving me grief. Halfway from Osaka, rolling became dragging. It wasn’t until I was greeted by Marilena out front of Obubu that the back left wheel completely broke — taking with it the side of the suitcase and leaving a gaping hole. I guess it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
That evening, they hosted a welcome party for us. Only four out of seven interns had arrived. After dinner and a roundtable of questions, a dance party broke out. I have a philosophy for life: if we can dance together, we’re going to be friends. That may sound silly and simplistic, but it’s a fact. Dance cuts through language, culture, and coolness — the enemy of connection.
[Welcome party photo]
“Club Obubu,” as we lovingly referred to it, became a staple. The second floor of the factory transformed after hours into the closest thing this slice of the world had to a club. The music was loud, the lighting disco. Sometimes we moved in our own worlds, other times playing off each other, until we were dancing a shared language. George, Katrina, and Eva could get down to the weird and experimental; Spanish beats for Garance and Marilena; for Sky, it was 2000s–2010s pop and RnB. As for Izzy, her taste was just as eclectic as my own.
It’s strange to draw parallels between film and farming, but the two are surprisingly similar in some ways. It’s long hours, physically demanding, and each day is different. Holding the harvesting machine reminded me of holding a boom pole. Attached to the end of a boom pole is a microphone. Once you find the perfect position for the microphone, you find something in your vision to line up with — the edge of a picture frame, a mark on the wall. This then becomes your spot. In a similar way, I’d line myself up, find my spot, and then hold that.
[Farming photos / Photos from Katrina]
Akky-san would make hand gestures when you needed to reposition. Up, down, right, left. Sometimes, in film, you stand in for actors while they frame up. The camera team would ask you to slightly adjust your position: “To the right, to the left, split the difference.” The process wasn’t anything different — but the product was worlds away.
Once you get into a rhythm, it begins to feel like a dance. I’d keep my grip loose, letting Akky-san lead — never fighting against, but moving together. Despite being Australian, I’m not a surfer, but I imagine catching a wave feels much the same. You become one with the landscape, feeling the subtle changes beneath you. We’d slope down, I’d slightly raise my hands. Going up, I’d slowly lower. After a while, you’d get lost in the buzz of the blades, only to look up and realise you’ve done an entire field.
AFTER OBUBU
Before coming to Obubu, I was at a career crossroads. Unsure if film is something I wanted to continue pursuing – jaded, cynical and burnt out. Even now, I’m unsure – but I have a feeling it’ll come and go from my life like a revolving door. I have a feeling that the door isn’t closed, by revolving.
As part of our internship, we had the opportunity to create a project around a topic of interest. For mine, I hosted a pop-up event, transforming my bedroom into a gallery x bar for the night. You can read all about it [here]. The evening featured photography, video works, and music from Obubu staff and interns, while I served up tea cocktails from behind the bar. You can find those recipes [here].
[Event Photos]
My current vision: I want to travel across Japan in a converted keitora. Camping along the way and hosting events. Rural Japan is experiencing population issues. If I can play a small part in revitalizing areas (festivals) etc… then I think that’d be a pretty neat way to move through this world. Fascinated my rural revitalisation projects – like Obubu. With greater aspirations of hosting days long festivals.
At Obubu, we’re constantly brewing tea for each other — morning meetings, afternoon slumps, evening wind-downs. I was eager to try but also intimidated, especially when brewing for the staff — people who literally work with tea. I was worried I’d get it wrong — brew it too long or too hot — and ruin the tea. But here, we have a saying: “Tea is freedom.” At first, this frustrated me. I wanted a guideline. But annoyingly, as the internship went on, this simple saying started to make sense.
There isn’t a right or wrong way to brew tea. There are just different ways. Some might suit your taste more than others. Maybe you forgot your tea and let it steep for five minutes — how does that taste? Maybe you like it. Everything is just information. We don’t have to wrap it up in positive or negative connotations.
- I pushed myself crazy / battled sickness / got it done. I’m ready for round 2. My love affair with Japan will continue. I’m not done with her yet.
I loved hosting and have continued to experiment with drink recipes and host casual cocktail evenings. I plan to keep hosting events that create memorable experiences and bring people together. You can follow along on @secondsink.goes. If you ever find yourself in the same part of the world — I might even be hosting an event near you!
In the meantime, I’ll be making drinks for my sisters engagement party and blah blah blah.
Obubu has made the world a smaller place, now that I have friends across it. And friends of friends. I think I can walk into a tea shop and find someone whose heard of it before. I can’t wait to see what we all get up to, and I’m sure our paths will cross.
Now, go brew someone you love a cup of tea —
Jackie
English (UK) 
Français