Beppu: Hot Springs and Baskets

Beppu is on the northeastern side of Kyushu and extends from the sea up the mountains.  Unlike other towns so far, I have had trouble orienting myself.   Those who know me well will understand that, even though the sea is on one side and mountains on the other, that doesn’t mean I can figure out where I’m going.  On my first day, I took the bus up to the Bamboo Craft Museum to register for a workshop.  I had clear directions for walking back to town, so confidently tromped back down the hill, only to find when I got to the sea that I had no idea where I was. Naturally I turned away from town first, but I asked where I was and eventually found myself back “on the map” and on my way home.  I still don’t know where I took the wrong turn.

Some of Beppu's hot springs

Enjoying the steam foot bath

Onsens.  Onsens are the tourist attraction here, since Beppu sits on a caldron of hot springs.  I went to the hotel onsen the first night I was here, carefully washing my hair and body before dipping into the rock-lined pool of steaming hot water.   I lasted a few minutes and then had to get out, feeling dizzy.

A few days later, I decided to “do the tour” and wander among the hot springs.  It turned out to be fun:  people were there to enjoy themselves and experience the springs. The first place I found had a foot bath.  I joined several others, putting my feet first  into a steam bath and then into the hot water.  The water, cooler than my hotel onsen, was quite nice, and my feet loved it.  I also liked the camaraderie.  I took pictures of the couple next to me, others offered to take some of me, and I watched as a group of women chatted and another man showed newcomers what to do.  Later, after I’d strolled up and down the streets, looking into onsens and watching the escaping steam, I returned to where I had started.  There I had a lunch of hot-spring-steamed cooked vegetables, joining others who had selected fish, chicken or other food to cook in the “steam ovens”.

Basket-making.  I came to Beppu primarily to visit its Bamboo Craft Museum, for which it is famous (after the onsens).  A delightful Japanese gentleman showed me the museum.  He explained that there are hundreds of different species of bamboo and showed me six that are commonly used in making baskets.  Oita, the prefecture where Beppu is located, is Japan’s primary producer of “magaru”, a tall bamboo about 3-4” in diameter.  My guide told me that each basket is different even if it is of the same type or purpose, unlike ceramics where the ability to reproduce a form exactly is prized.  He also said that basket-making in Japan is suffering in Japan because of cheap Chinese imports.  Fewer were entering the field so the number of basket masters was declining.

Shaving the weaver to size

Splitting a weaver

After I toured the downstairs with my guide, I went upstairs to watch a basket master training several students in his craft.  I spent hours watching the six men and two women in their 20’s and 30’s, each engrossed in making a covered rice basket.  The sensei (teacher), walked about the room, helping when someone needed assistance, giving advice and encouragement.

The students each had 6-8 foot lengths of magaru that they cut and split to make the spokes and thin weavers to use in their baskets.  Using very sharp knives, they cut the desired lengths, then cut the bamboo in half lengthwise, measured with calipers the spoke widths they wanted and cut the lengths into strips.  They used a smaller knife to cut off the thin green outer layer of bamboo they would use. Finally, after checking to make sure their “shaver” was set to the desired width, they pulled each piece through to make spokes of equal width, but only after checking the first shaved piece to make sure again that the width was correct.  They did the same thing with the several-foot long weavers, trimming them down to roughly 1/16” in width. 

Weaving the basket

When I was making baskets many years ago, we used reed that was already cut to different widths, and those weren’t always exact.  I didn’t need to learn the careful, attentive preparation these students did before beginning to weave their baskets.  I suspect it also gave these students a better feel for the flexibility and “life” of the bamboo so they could work with it, rather than fighting it, as they wove.

Sensei advising on shaping the basket

Sitting on the ground and using a little stool as a base for their work, each student laid out the requisite number of spokes and began weaving around them.  By the time I left, several were ready to add more spokes to create the arced base supporting the hemispherical top.  This was a complex process, requiring conversations with the sensei and careful examination of a finished basket. 

Coaster grid

I then went to a one-on-one workshop with my guide to make a small bamboo coaster.  The sensei brought out a bamboo square on which was drawn a grid for me to use, and he showed me how to fit the spokes along the guidelines so that the spaces between them were all even.  He showed me how to use the board and hold the spokes so I could easily weave in the cross-spokes.  All of this was different from what I had learned years ago:  it was both an easier method of weaving a square and keeping the spacing even, and it also focused your attention on doing so. 

Helping to finish the coas

I finished my coaster with my guide’s help and every time I set a cup of tea on it, I will remember my visit here.  I also have a much deeper understanding and appreciation for the  years of study needed, from learning how to wield a knife to prepare the bamboo to being able to weave a basket with a steady tension and careful hands to get the shape you want.  It is quite a skill!

Food and drink.  On my last night here, I went back to the restaurant where I ate first, down the street from my hotel.  It’s a local hangout and both times it was packed:  men and women at the counter (where I sat), couples and groups, young and old, a family with a couple of young kids this time.  The people at the counter mostly drank and talked, settling their stomachs with sashimi and other small dishes.  The food is delicious: you can pick up plates from the display up front, or seemingly you can order what you want and it will be magically produced.   The staff is busy but work together well, almost like a family. Tonight I realized that the person who  stood behind the counter washing dishes was indeed the man in charge.  From where he stood, he could watch his customers, making sure all were served well, and direct his staff.

Tonight I sat next to a couple who were having a lively conversation.  When he left to go to the bathroom, I leaned over and asked his companion about the large liquor bottles on the wall.  Each had Kanji written on it, and I asked her if they were customers’ names.  It took a while to convey that, but once she understood, she said yes.  By then her friend was back, and we began a conversation of sorts, all in Japanese.  They said that there were three kinds of Japanese alcohol:  sake is made with rice, what they call “mugi” is made with barley, and another is made from sweet potatoes.  They ordered a glass of the mugi, which came over ice, so I could taste, then let me take a sip of their preferred drink, hot sake. I liked it better, too.  If it’s hot sake, the bartender fills the cup to the brim, about 4-6 ounces.  Some will drink it straight, the man two seats away poured his into a glass of hot tea, and the first night my seat-mate cut it with water.

We continued our conversation, with the usual “where are you from”, “how long are you here”, “where are you going” questions.  They’re always surprised when I say I’ll be here for a year and that I am going around the entire country.  We also talked about what he did (he’d come from Fukuoka and had worked in a ryokan, wasn’t working now).   When I left, about 7:45, many of the tables were empty and it seemed they would be closed by 8:30.  It was a great time and a great last night in Beppu.