Hello from beautiful, sunny, sweltering Wazuka. We’re in the midst of the summer heat wave as I write this, and the summer sounds, smells, and malaise are putting me into a very nostalgic space. My name is David, and I was an intern here at Obubu three years ago with my lovely co-intern, now co-assistant manager, Maren. We were here during these hottest months, soaking in all that this small town in the Kyoto mountains has to offer, and I’m finding it strangely comforting how similar the oppressive heat can be.
Back in 2023, our main project was renovating the upper floor of the sencha factory and converting it into what is our current cafe space. It’s hard to express how connected to this space I feel (and I believe Maren feels the same). We worked nearly every day covered in paint, sawdust, sweat, and tea. We saw how completely a physical space can change: old machines carted away, beams removed, skeletons of wooden boats hammered to smithereens. We then saw how completely all of that newly empty space can be filled again. How many hands can help lay a new floor and install windows looking out onto rice paddies where only corrugated steel could be seen before.
Before I wax overly poetic, I should say that being in this space, especially in this heat, feels like an encapsulation of being back in Wazuka after 3 years. It seems Obubu is designed to elicit some sort of change in a person and I think that most of us who come here (or come back) are looking for some sort of evolution.
We get opportunities every day to wake up and watch the low clouds roll through the tea fields in the mountains surrounding us. We can listen to the rain during a storm while preparing a bowl of matcha among friends. We can forgo sleep when harvest comes around, worrying about personal batches of tea leaves like nervous parents. We can also take time to ourselves and hide away and recharge, because the kind of growth that comes at Obubu requires energy, both mental and physical.
I’m working to find the right balance of taking advantage of every opportunity and taking space for reflection and rest, although I will say the recent streak of 40 degrees Celsius (104 Farenheight) days has kept more than a few of us hiding inside, drinking endless cups of cold brew Kyobancha. But as oppressive as this season and heat can be, there will always be something nostalgic about summer in Japan. Especially at Obubu.