3 days ago
VOX POPULI: Steeped in time, umeboshi offer delicious gifts to the future
Ume plums dry in the sun under a blue sky on the morning of Aug. 7, 2019, in Tanabe, Wakayama Prefecture. (Asahi Shimbun file photo)
When Japanese writer Tsutomu Mizukami (1919–2004) was 9, he entered a Zen temple in Kyoto as a 'kozo'—a novice monk who had taken the first step into a monastic life but was not yet fully ordained.
There, he learned how to heat water, build a fire, use a broom and prepare tea.
Morning and evening, in the midst of these daily routines, he was taught the spirit of 'gyojitsu'—a Zen approach to practice that sees every moment of daily life, not just seated meditation (zazen), as part of spiritual training.
Through mindful, deliberate action, this way of living cultivates inner discipline and can lead to sudden, spontaneous moments of 'satori,' or awakening.
In 'Tsuchi wo Kurau Hibi' (Days of eating earth), Mizukami wrote that he also learned how to make umeboshi—pickled and salted ume plums—at the temple.
After being bathed in the rains of the rainy season, the ume were carefully washed and then pickled in salt.
When the summer 'doyo' period arrived—a transitional stretch of about 20 days before the start of autumn—they were laid out to dry under the summer sun. At night, they were left outside.
'Ume like the night dew,' the 'osho'—a trained and accomplished monk—who served as his mentor used to say.
Many years passed, and by the time Mizukami was approaching 60, the monk had passed away. One day, Mizukami had the opportunity to reunite with the monk's daughter.
As they reminisced about the past, she offered him some umeboshi, saying they were from a batch that had been in her family for decades. In fact, the fruits had been pickled the year her parents were married—53 years earlier.
'I silently and respectfully accepted them, overcome with emotion,' he wrote.
Late that night, at home, he placed one in his mouth.
At first, the taste was bitter and sharp. But gradually, it softened—spreading gently across his tongue and transforming into a sweetness like nectar.
He shed tears for that umeboshi, which had endured for 53 years.
Umeboshi endure.
Their long life gives rise to memories—and perhaps even stir thoughts of a distant future.
One day, someone will taste ume pickled this year and wince at the sharp sourness. The thought alone brings a quiet sense of joy.
July 19 marks 'Doyo no Ushi no Hi,' the midsummer Day of the Ox during the doyo period. With the return of the summer heat, we may once again see the familiar sight of ume drying under the sun.
Haiku poet Teijo Nakamura (1900–1988) captured the essence of this season in a single verse: 'Ume drying in the sun/ while people hide in the shade.'
With the blazing sunlight arrives the season of umeboshi making.
—The Asahi Shimbun, July 18
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Vox Populi, Vox Dei is a popular daily column that takes up a wide range of topics, including culture, arts and social trends and developments. Written by veteran Asahi Shimbun writers, the column provides useful perspectives on and insights into contemporary Japan and its culture.
