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Fieldwork before and after Retirement

Isamu Yamada

Three years to retirement age

When I reached the age of sixty – the special birthday to celebrate one’s longevity – I renewed my resolution to completely wind up my career as a researcher. I confess I had made up my mind several times before to do this, but postponed doing it because my days were always hectic. Until the retirement, there were a lot of things that needed to be accomplished: publish books, organize my overseas research reports, write papers, organize slides etc. My motivation steadily lost its momentum at the sight of the soaring piles in my office and as a result, I continued with my busy days just as ever. But retirement loomed before me when I turned 60.

My office was once located in an old building at the Center for Southeast Asian Studies (CSEAS). It was larger than the standard office. In this 36 m² office, with a high ceiling, I had packed up all the stuff related to my work, making the office look like a tropical rain forest. Between the gaps of thirty book shelves were squeezed in unopened envelopes and various papers. My slides collection was packed in boxes and totaled 100,000 slides. Aware that once I retire the space will no longer be available for me, I began thinking of where to transfer this stuff. The advice of superiors was of little help, given the enormous difference in the quantity of the bulk that had to be handled.

I finally decided to build a storehouse in the north of Kyoto  and thus was able to secure space. But this did not even start right away, as the carpenter in charge of the construction lost heart for the after experiencing a series of deaths in his relatives. He finally recovered a year before my retirement and began the construction. The warehouse was completed in the winter before my retirement (March). The wooden building measured 60m² was made of local timber and was strong.  I had students help transfer the items from my office to the new place in between my fieldworks.  I felt relieved when the size of the collection in my study room was reduced to “ordinary levels” after several moves. I could then take to the field without anxiety.

A year before my retirement, I made up my mind that I will spend 300 days for my fieldworks as I remembered observing how my superiors were almost out of country and absent from their offices all the time before their retirement.   Aware of how limited my time was, I explored the destination that I wished to visit and started to work through a rough plan. But I was obliged to be stationed in the Center’s Bangkok liaison office and was entrusted to take Kyoto students to Thailand on an International Exchange program. I crammed these new tasks in my schedule, feeling these would not be so bad as they would constitute two of my last services to CSEAS and Kyoto University.

But as a result, my planned 300-day field trip had to be cut down to 200 days, with a maximum stay in one are of one month. This made the time between two field trips extremely busy. After I completed this plan, I felt such schedule was good enough for a year before the retirement, but I also had was grateful for having done so despite the reduced time. Then, after I stopped working, I was offered to teach at the Ritsumeikan Asia Pacific University (APU). Although my appointment was temporary at that time, my status as visiting professor led me to teach four courses, each consisting of fifteen lectures. Three of these four courses I was going to teach were to be taught in English. Preparation for the courses were not easy, but I soon found out that the lectures were fun and my interaction with students quite enjoyable.

I ended up spending the first four months at APU, the next four to overseas research, and the last four months overseeing the transfer of my office materials and slides to the new storehouse.  Fortunately the Emeritus Professor’s room at CSEAS was available, and I spent my free days there sorting my slides. Thankfully, I could finish sorting the 100,000 slides and record those should be saved on CDs. Ms. Toshiko Kataoka, the secretary of Matsubayashi-san devotedly worked on the task.  Unfortunately,  the process of transfering my office files to the storehouse had hardly progressed. My records of fields, workshops and the research items were kept in tray boxes of A4 or B4 in the size, and these amounted to around 400. Apart from these, there were still piles of untouched papers. I have already began installing bookshelves on all the available spaces in the store house, to organize magazine collections for the past 40 years and my both domestic and foreign published books. I realized I still have long way to go. And with each paper I tossed away as I tried to put order into this new space, I found myself confronted with another heap. As I viewed the sight of this growing jumble, I realized that should have done all this earlier. I hope readers of this article will learn from this and make it a rule to regularly take care of their papers as part of their daily routine.

For my fieldwork, I was used six academic grants that I received from the Japan Grants-in-Aid for Scientific Research (GASR) and Kyoto University’s 21^st century Center of Excellence project.  Of the two, the most important was my GASR support which invoved conducing regional comparative studies on the Himalayan Rim for four years.  As was always the case with me, I laid out so wide an area of research  that I ended up skipping many locations for the visit. This time I decided to prioritize and visit the what I consider the most important places before I retire. After all, I could only do a total of ten trips only counted, and two are international conferences. Yet I still wonder sometimes if I can squeeze a couple of more outings.

Investigating Post-Tsunami  Thailand

From April to May 2006, I visited Thailand to deliver a lecture at Chulalongkorn University and to investigate the impact of the tsunami on the affected areas. My visit was arranged by a former visiting fellow Professor Pipat Pattanaponpaiboon of Chulalongkorn University, who was a former visiting research fellow at the Center. I explored the tsunami-hit areas in the southern Thailand after my lectures.  While driving southward from Bangkok down the peninsula along the Indian Ocean to Pukhet, I closely examined the scenes of the destructions and encountered sights that ranged from a resort hotel that was nearing completion only to be destroyed by the tsunami, to a village that was completely washed away and boats run up the shore.  It was heartbreaking to see once-cheerful Thais in daze and suffering after losing their family members.  Professor Pipat periodically visited the affected sites to investigate the effect of the tidal wave on the ecosystems.

To the Takla Makan and the Silk Road

I used to go out to do research in China and somewhere else for four months in April, but this time, I stayed in Japan in the April-May period. Hence, my first research at the beginning of the academic year was a good start.  In June, I attended the JASTE (the Japan Society of Tropical Ecology)’s international symposium celebrating its 15^th anniversary.

The summer vacation has started and my season for a full scale overseas research has finally set in. I followed the golden rule of tackling the most difficult and farthest locations first before moving to the easier and closer ones. I chose to visit southern Tibet on the Himalayan Rim and then move to locations along the Silk Road which I had never been to. My counterpart for this field research was the archaeologist, Professor Luo Erho of Sichuan University and the Shanghai University. Professor Luo and I had been working together for the last four years, along with Dr. Masahiro Hirata (of CSEAS). The southern part of Tibet – also called the Homeland of Tibet – was different from the other regions where we had done research before. Entrance to the many locations around the area, however, was quite difficult as they were close to the border with Nepal . As a consequence, we were only able to have twenty percent of our applications accepted by the Chinese authorities. Nevertheless, during the tour, we could appreciate the beauty on the northern side of Mount Chomolungma, and see the vertical distribution of plants on different altitudes along the path to the borders with Nepal. We even had the chance to once again admire the poppy flowers in blue and yellow as we did the year before.

In the second half of the tour, we went across the Takla Makan desert through Khotan to Kashgar to reach the Pakistani border. This was the first time in15 years that I have returned to the area – the last time I postponed my visit after I was able to visit China in the early 1990 because I had to attend the inaugural meeting of the Japan Society of Tropical Ecology (JASTE) in Japan.  The mountains between the snow covered peaks of 7000 meter high, were not as steep as I expected. We were curious as to whether a route from Pakistan to Afghanistan so we retraced our way but decided later to forego this attempt to a future visit.  On our way back, we tried to go deeper into the Altai Mountains, but gave up since we heard that the route had become more difficult. This we also decided to postpot for other occasions.

We were able to cover the whole area of Tibet and the unexplored areas on the Silk Road. In the Himalayan Rim project, we went as far to the west by Iran, but stopped there as there were no passages available between China and Iran. We also decided to visit Uzbekistan in the winter since we have not yet entered the northern portion of Tibet.

Among the People of Papua

In August, I returned to Kyoto, saw Daimonji bonfire festival, and after four days set out again, this time  for Indonesia. My research area was in Sulawesi, my visit supported by the GASR project of Prof. Koji Tanaka (who was still then with CSEAS)  on “The Dynamics of the Life-World and the Environmental Management in the Waters of Wallacea.” I  made the special request to have my research allocation extended to allow me  to go to Papua on the Indonesian side. Professors Jun Akamine of Nagoya City University and Tri Mulyaningsih of Mataram University  joined the trip.

We flew from Sulawesi to Jayapura, the capital of Papua via Biak. Because of the local flight schedules, we continued our way to the central heights, in Wamena on another airplane.  The habitat  of the Dani people were located at an altitude of 1,500 meter  from where we chartered an aircraft to fly to a small village in the mountain where the people planted eaglewood.  The airport was located on the ridge, slightly on its slope with the village. The plantation was about 30 minutes by foot from the village to the mountain. Locals told us it was a short distance, but as always the case, it was quite an exercise for us. After taking a walk under the flaming sun, we passed through a secondary forest before entering the eaglewood plantation .

Hundreds of trees were planted in lines with enough space between each other. Some of them had already matured while others were not. The locals have been planting these trees since they had the training under the guidance of Tri-san, a great guide. Village children followed us on the way and small boys about the age of 10 wearing their penis cases extended us their hands when we were on unsteady footing.

On our return near the flying field, the whole village population gathered to watch us. Among them was a woman around 40 in age, and she sounded insane.  According to her story, she once had a husband, but he walked out the village with her son, to become the leader of another village. She was thus left alone and she went wild saying she wanted to go with him, and asked why he did not take her with him.  Until today, the sight of an airplane made her go mad, and insisted that she be allowed to board. The villagers watched this woman warmly and only held her back when she becomes violent. They understand  her circumstance  and her sad story.  The woman somehow ended up following  me wherever I went, always with a smile on her face.  I suppose, she probably sensed my compassion when I listened to her story. At midnight, I stepped out during a downpour and found her in white sarong standing alone on veranda, gazing somewhere at the rain. It was a poignant moment for me.  On the day we left the village, she approached me, but when she found out she was not allowed in the plane, she went on a rampage. Even for a woman, her strength quite a surprising. Our aircraft took off the ground as several men held her back. My heart aches to this very day evert time I think of her.

I remember as a child that every town had one or two people who were like her. I also remember their neighbors watching them warmly. Today, there are less and less people who act that way. All the same, it is a unspoken fact, that our towns are crowded with those who could potentially go crazy.  I am more concerned about the excessively modernized future of the human  world. I feel it is about time that we review the our present-day life and its surroundings in the light of the scenes from the most primitive grounds.

After descending the mountain, we  headed for the low marshland, an extensive are that lies along the southern coast of Papua.  We made our way to Athi from Merauke to see the eaglewood. The demand for the eaglewood of Papua has been on the rise in the last decade as the supply from the Kalimantan had been declining.  This was the reason why I wanted to see the site. Unfortunately, the peak time of the business in the area had already passed. The people there said there once were a thousand of kiosks which dealt the eaglewood. Today, a large number of dealers closed down their stores and returned to their villages. They had cut down all the precious trees and the only thing left were the roots. And nowadays even these roots are dug out from the ground to be put up for sale.

The eaglewood of the area grows on the same swamp as the sago palms. We set out on a speedboat to see both of these plants on the nearby island. The inhabitants followed us with iron rods in their hands with which they would search for the roots by sticking them into the mud. They said they would dive into the swamp for the roots when they see signs of the eaglewood on the bar.  It was an extremely hard work to dive under muddy water to retrieve a piece of the precious wood. Despite the difficulty, the local people would continue to work and literally uproot them, dry  and sell them to traders. The eaglewood of Papua was said to be less aromatic when compared to its Kalimantan counterpart, but dealers remain confident that these were of the same quality. In addition, even the less aromatic pieces would suffice as material for use as incense. These are collected in large quantities and exported to China and Taiwan areas hence keeping business healthy in the area. We left the southern marsh to look around Biak and Manokwari areas before flying back to Japan.  My first visit to Papua was very pleasurable, although the expenses for chartering aircrafts and other means of transportation made it one of the most costly fieldworks I have ever did.

Residence at the Bangkok office

From September 26 to October 26, I visited Thailand to administer the CSEAS Bangkok liaison office. In the past, resident officers were rotated for a few years , but these days they are stationed only for a few months. This is probably because the staff has become quite busy with many other tasks. In any case, I was back in the Bangkok office once again.

The first time was in 1965 when I traveled from southern to northern Thailand to collect plants.  The CSEAS’s first office was a two-story building where the Soil Studies project and other young researchers had been  stationed. Professor Hayao Fukui was in charge of the office then.  There I also met Kyoto University Professors Tooru Yano, Kazutake Kyuuma, and Hisao Furukawa . At that time Fumishige Yoshimura just came back from Nepal, so I stayed overnight at a temple outside, which worried Professor Motoji Tagawa (Kyoto University). Since then, the office building has been moved several times from the original detached house by the Sukhumvit area to the present condominium in Sukhumvit Soi 20.  It is a comfortable place with floors made of rosewood, which today would cost approximately over a hundred million yen.  Our old friends, the late Chip-san and Ari-san were still there. Seeing their faces reminded me of Thailand  in its good old days. It was like a scene from a movie about  old-time Thailand.

Once being the country of smiles, Thailand is now undergoing a massive change as one of the most developed nations in Southeast Asia. Bangkok has subway and railway systems and the traffic jams around Ransit to the North has been loossemed up by the construction of an interchange. Chiangmai has also turned a huge city and lost its old rustic ambience. Tranquil life barely survived around communities of minority people in the mountains of northern Thailand. And now, eco-tourism is thriving to provide healing quarters for the outsiders exhausted from the contemporary life.

During the first half of my stay, I surveyed the cultivation of the eaglewood near the borders of Cambodia and toured northern Thailand.  At a newly established university, the young staff averaging 30 years had become the major force in pursuit of their activities. In the latter half of my stay, Mr. Kiyoshi Hara, an auditor of Kyoto University, also visited Thailand and we set up meetings at Chulalongkon University and Kasetsart University.  On the bank of the Chao Phraya river, we talked leisurely while watching boats pass by.  It was an experience that made us feel the richness of the old Thailand.

Researchers were then thinking about what to do in the aftermath of the tsunami that hit Thailand.  A former CSEAS student, Professor Thanawat Jarupongsakul of Chulalongkorn University,  argued that they establish a regional center for the prevention of natural disasters. His research showed that due to the siphoning off of the ground water by factories in the southern Thailand, the ground of the area was gradually eroding year by year, leading to the destruction of the mangroves off  the coast of Bangkok. This caused the accumulative loss of vast land areas.

I took a day to go to see the site, and found it in a deplorable situation. There was a fisherman who had already moved his house three times. He was concerned about their future by the sea side.  After the tsunami, various new problems sprang up one after another as a result of the nation’s modernization. The supporters of the development would not pay an attention to Thanawat’s opinion, and the day came when they have to pay for their indifference.

As I was to be assigned to a series of overseas field trips after my residence in Thailand, I renewed my passport in Bangkok. They gave me a new passport much quicker than they did in Japan.  During my stay in Bangkok, I finished writing three papers in English and a book. I can’t think of any other place with such a wonderful environment.

Long time ago, I visited the office of  the National Research Council of Thailand (NRCT) to find a pile of research application forms on the desk of the officer in charge. “They are all from Japan. Why do they like our country so much like this?” the female officer smiled and asked me. It is true there are many Japanese researchers who are fond of Thailand. One possible reason is what their wonderful counterparts can offer. We always have a very attentive person in each of our project. In my case, they are Professors Pongsak Sahunalu of Kasetsart University, Thawachai Santisuk of the Royal Forest Department, and Piphat of Chulalongkon University. Our connections have been continuous for a long time even apart from our business relationships at CSEAS where they had been invited as visiting professors. I am grateful to see our  ties getting much closer as we get older.

Travels to Europe

Four days after I came home, I set out for my next destination –Europe. I have been associated with a specific research led by Professor Motomitsu Uchibori of the Research Institute for Languages and Cultures of Asia and Africa of Tokyo University of Foreign Studies. The project is titled “the Anthropology of Resources” and every year, I have been working on my research in the name of “the Ecological Resources of Alps Rim.”  I toured Europe for a month annually, because I am interested in looking at different ecosystems after studying the Himalayan Rim.

In the first year, I visited France, then Italy to Sicily on the second year, and for the third, Spain and Portugal.  I rented a car in Madrid to drive around the major cities of the two countries. I also explored so far as Morocco, wandering inside and around the Kasbah. There were a number of marvelous constructions comparable to those I saw in Italy in the previous year.  During the tour, I saw gentle slopes covered with the olive groves. On seeing the sight, I was convinced that one of my guesses proved correct. When I visited the Philippines, I thought that its rich land could have been made into monoculture plantations under the Spanish. The similarities are clear although there are fundamental differences in land operations.

The methods for olive and grape cultivation in Europe could be applied on tropical zones through plantations. In Europe, the field spreads outside the town where people live even though there are a few cases where village and field are intermixed like in Asia. In Europe, the distinction between human and the nature is explicit, and this has been reinforced by Christian monotheism. The area from Italy to Spain is abundant in excellent Christian-related structures. Each town has a cathedral and a plaza at its center, and unlike Japanese temples, these solemnly dominate the core of towns making us feel their force to reign over the whole region.

Towns in Europe are all beautiful, and the splendor of small and medium sized cities are especially remarkable. Stone pavements are lined with old houses built with time-washed bricks. People’s faces coming out from these houses also look somewhat stern and not as welcoming as the atmosphere in households in Asia where anyone could just drop in at a whim. Behind the brick walls and the hardy doors exists another world with a long history. I feel suffocated the longer I stay in such towns; a day or two is enough for me. If I stay longer, I feel my face and body becoming fixed and stiffening  bricks and stone pavements.

There were so many interesting things to see in Spain, where the influence of Islam is very evident in her outstanding buildings. Looking at them made me remember similar traces of the Islamic style in Iran. I was so happy to see that most of the splendid examples of European structures reflected the influence of Muslim architectures. The finest examples include the Alhambra Palace although it was not as impressive the time as saw it because the fountains along the waterway had been temporarily closed. The outside sites would have been spectacular had the waterway been opened and this would have complemented the sight of the corridors inside the monasteries. The grass and trees that covered the square courtyard surrounded the wide stone aisle and a little walk on the passageway reveals another world before our eyes. The simple structure that harbors the world of grandeur enlarges and deepens as one saunters around.

Every time I go to Europe, I always get in touch with Dr. Walter Angst, the administrator of a monkey park in the southern Germany. We have been friends since he was a student of the University of Basel and when he visited Ujung Kulon, West Java, we spent time together. After he earned his degree, he studied the natural protection of Indonesia before settling down as curator at the monkey park where he works till this day. Although his main occupation is the study of the apes, his biggest passion is the wayang of Java. He has been collecting wayang puppets since he was a student and now his collection has reached 150 sets.

The Monkey Park he works in was leased by the Habsburg family, and it has a huge farmhouse-like building where his treasure boxes are kept. Each box contains about 150 to 200 wayang masterpieces. Dr. Walter spends about 90 percent of his income to increase his collection, and he is now known as the most distinguished wayang collector in the world. He also collects anything  wayang- related  besides the puppets themselves.  His problem now is what to do with this huge collection including the thousands of wayang-related papers. Next year, Dr. Walter will turn 65 and retire. As Germany has no retirement benefits like Japan, he will have to search another way to make a living. Good thing he has a rich sibling who lives in a castle in England and owns a bank, and who has agreed to support my friend. He bought his brother  an old house in a nearby town and had this renovated . The first floor would be rented out so that the retired Dr. Walter would have an income, while the second to the fifth floors will serve as the space for the wayang collection.

At first, he thought about opening a museum, but this was abandoned when he encountered problems. So he decided to publish books instead, and first issue of the series will be coming out soon. Dr. Walter is a hard-core perfectionist and thus he carefully checked everything from the design of the book to each photograph that would be used. He hopes to introduce his collection via the book. A project to exhibit his collection at a museum  in a middle sized city in Switzerland is also underway. To me, Walter is the quintessential Swiss. He never compromises and is strongly dedicated to what he is doing – from preparing for his upcoming retirement, to the renovation of his new house, and the publication of his book.

While in Europe, I was also helped by Ms. Kei Azuma, who studying the baskets of Orang Asli and their life culture at the National Museum of the Natural History in France. I realized that I should have taken more time to tour the countries of Europe and savor the ambience of its old towns; it would be a good way of spending my life as a senior.  I will go back to these tours at the end of this essay.

Two Consecutive International conferences

I returned from Spain on November 20 and  on the next day, I attended the faculty meeting before leaving for Bangkok the next day to took part in the 7^th Kyoto International Symposium where I spoke on the tropical zones studies in Japan. Kyoto University President Kazuo Oike was also present, and the symposium was a great success. During the symposium, I was able to renew my friendship in Thailand.  On November 25, I made the opening speech for the symposium on the regional forestry at the Faculty of Forestry in Kasetsart University. Professor Pongsak Sahunalu  presented the keynote address on monsoon forests.

That afternoon I flew back to Japan, and after a day’s rest, left again, this for Sarawak via Singapore, to attend another symposium on the Sarawak project in Kuching. The project was on its 15th since it was launched  in 1990, and  has seen changes in administrators. Presently, Nakashizuka Toru of the Research Institute of Humanity and Nature and Suzuki Masakazu of Tokyo University led programs relating to canopy biology and water circulation.  Young researchers have joined the membership as counterparts after Lee Hua Seng, its long-time head, had retired. The late Momose Kuniyasu and Sakai Syoko, who once participated in the project as a student, developed into brilliant researchers and offered their  guidance to young students.  I felt my age and the flow of time reflected on my colleagues’ faces; still it is pleasant to see young people maturing.

I climbed on an 80-meter high crane fixed in the Lambir forest. It was so high, I could view the entire lovely forest. On top of the crane, I offered incense for Inoue Tamiji who died here. Again as always, I could not help feeling as if someone’s presence still lingered about in the place. After that, I did a little research in the town of Miri, stopping  by a familiar shop that dealt with  products of the southern sea. Both the owner and his wife were doing well and I learned that two of their daughters have married and now live in New Zealand. The owner has made a fortune by asking the Penan people in the inner Sarawak area to gather eaglewood in 1970’s. During those days, he energetically assembled the wood for several years for Singaporean dealers. Back then the price was still not so high, but there was abundant eaglewood. With the profit he made, he bought a house and two shops in Miri, a shop in Kuala Lumpur, and a house in New Zealand. He also was able to send their children to study in Auckland.

At present, his store deals mainly products from the southern sea such shark’s fin and swallow’s nest. Despite eaglewood becoming more rare I can still see how fertile the country is every time I come here. Miri is a rich town thanks to its oil and the woods and most residents are quite affluent. The pedestrians in the town include the majority of overseas Chinese as well as the people from forests, the Kenyah, Kayan, Kadazan and the Iban.  My biggest pleasures here are the morning noodle and coffee at the restaurant on the corner across from a budget hotel, which I savor while watching the faces of people passing by.  Sarawak indeed, gives you this atmosphere of freedom and I often wonder if other Southeast Asian islands-towns are the same as Miri. After breakfast, I would stroll to the bazaar and fish market to say hello to eaglewood dealers.  The day before I was to fly to Singapore I returned to Kuching to meet Lee Hua Seng for the lunch.

In Singapore, I also visited have places I frequented in the past, including the country’s botanical garden. I remember the first came here in 1965, I had already used up my budget, and worse, suffered terrible diarrhea.  I ended up sleeping all day long at YMCA, but did manage to get out of my stupor to visit the botanical garden and take photographs. Umesao Tadao praised my photos when I showed these to him at his Salon.  The second time I was in Singapore, was when I stayed overnight before going to Bogor. At that time, my accommodation was known to be a haunted house whose ethereal ghostly existence was bolstered during windy nights.  I wonder how many times since then I have visited this place. The botanical garden is a place of beauty. When I was there, I entered the specimen room to take photos of the eaglewood seeds and I could not have been more lucky. For the round dome shaped old repository was to be closed down at the end of the year and moved to a new building.

By the old airport, there was a group of warehouses and a over 10 stalls where eaglewood was being stored and dealt (It had been almost 20 years since I first visited these places). At the garage in one of the storehouse where large trailers stood, and cargoes were being discharged one after the other by forklift trucks from the containers.  I follow my own procedure when I visit these stalls, always starting with the one at the end of the second floor. There I would visit for the longest time, talking with the tradesman during his spare moments.  At that time, they were slight discouraged because of the Washington Treaty and told me that they were thinking about changing jobs since the resources available to them were now limited. The other shop owners shared the same depressed mood.

Yet, the storehouse was filled with the piled up eaglewood. The shop owners told me that all they could get were of poor quality; the fine items were not easily available anymore.

These days the few fine blocks they deal with were once called “super” – heavy and black, with high prices. As a result of the war in the Middle East, the Arab countries were not as lucrative sources anymore. Some of these items were imported from Papua, but they had to be dug out from the marsh and dried there. As I looked around all the stalls I found the goings-on there lifeless. This was inevitable given the changes in the market for eaglewood.

After the storehouses, I went browsing around Arab town and the Tanglin area before going to dinner with Guo Yan Chun. Guo-san earned her degree at the Center for Southeast Asian Studies and married her husband who was also doing his PhD at Kyoto University. They are now living together in Singapore. Her husband is a researcher of in the field of informatics, but area studies is not an attractive field in the country, and as a result, Guo-san opened two Japanese schools to teach Japanese, English, and Chinese residents. She also opened a restaurant that specializes in Yunnanese food.  She manages all three while giving birth to her two babies. She is really a wonderful woman, and I regard her like my own daughter, partly because my wife and I attended her wedding party and presented my wife’s home-made wedding cake and gave the message of celebration. At any way, I am anticipating with great pleasure to see what her future will look like.

My tour was short, but it was a substantial week. I returned to Japan on a night flight. My new recollection of the tour was the excursion with Sakai Kazue in Kuching, Borneo. She moved there when she was young, and opened a Japanese restaurant and a travel agency. She has been taking care of Japanese visitors to Kuching, and the people concerned with the Lambir project were no exception. She organizes eco-tours and plants trees herself. Visiting these sites has left us with deep impressions.  At night, we had drinks at her pub and Sakurai Katsutoshi of Kochi University played the piano, half asleep with a cigarette in his mouth. Intrinsically, I though he should have been a pianist. He is always the most attractive and most handsome man in Thailand and Kuching. He should be playing the piano for recreation to balance his hyper-active life as the vice president of a university in Japan.

This is everything about my schedule till December before the year of the retirement. Still, there are three more field trips by the end of March.

To Tasmania and New Zealand

On the second day of the New Year, I hosted the annual party for visiting professors and those working at the Center for Southeast Asian Studies including the young people. I had about 20 guests at that time.  In these parties, I would bother my wife a lot as she prepares about 20 variations of dishes, but when they were over, we always felt contented and found it satisfying to host the gathering.  So when I realized that this would be the last time we will host a party, I felt a little lonelier.

After the New Year, I prepared the syllabus for my APU class which would start in April.  I also made a trip to Australia to look at the splendid forests of Tasmania and New Zealand which I regard as one of the poles of the world’s temperate rainforests. In the past, I always planned to see them, but I was too busy travelling to other areas and would always postpone my plan. But I had this chance to go see these forests just before retirement. This time, I was supposed to observe the western half of Tasmania and the huge forest zone of New Zealand as part of the “Human Security project” of Professor Shigeo Kobayashi of the Graduate School for Asian and African Studies (ASAFAS), Kyoto University.

I took the overnight flight to Singapore, landing in the early morning, which gave me a chance to walk around Melbourne. I visited China town and the Museum of History and in the afternoon, took the connecting flight to Hobart, the southernmost city of Tasmania. I arrived there and found a refreshing place with a cool atmosphere similar to Patagonia.  The next day, I rented a car to start my exploration of the western part of the island.

Although it is a small island, Tasmania is dotted with big forests. This is especially true in its western half where the forests have been designated as a national park.  Until I visited there, I gave very little significance to the eucalyptus in the forests, but was soon after inspired by the grandeur of the trees. Seeing the “genuine thing” at its “original place” certainly brough a totally different impression.

On the first day, I found myself driving too far and not finding a place to stay for the night, I had to go back until I found a very comfortable house in a forest. On the next morning, I woke and was surprised  by two peacocks standing in front of my room. That day I went around places  like Lake St Clair National Park, the Donaghys Lookout, Nelson Falls, and the Moraine at Henty. On the third day, I went to the Kledor National Park to look at the giant Antarctic Beech, a beautiful tree that grows in Patagonia, Papua New Guinea, Tasmania and New Zealand. Its leaves are extremely small compared to a similar tree found in Japan, but its trunk is magnificent. I would walk around in the southern hemisphere in search of this tree. It is one of my most favorite trees in the world.

For three days, I wandered about the Tasmanian forests looking for the gigantic beech and eucalyptus trees. I went through all the path s and pavements that appeared on my way, and would relax, rest and take some photos under big trees. When I touched the skin of the huge trees, I felt the spirits of hundred years of history. The good thing about Tasmania is that it is less populated; one could meet a few people, but hardly encounter them in groups. Thanks to this environment, I could spend much of my time leisurely in the forest. The car I rented was a small and ordinary, but it was good enough to go into anywhere.  In Europe, restaurants were available even late at night, but here, it was different. After 6 pm, there are few cars on road, and by 8 pm, most of the restaurants are closed. Even hotels would not open in case a guest arrives late in the night.  Except for these inconveniences, travel in Tasmania is quite comfortable and I saw almost all the western part of the island in less than a week, before flying to New Zealand.

I decided to come back to Tasmania with more time on my next visit.  I rented a car at Auckland airport and drove up to the northern peninsula of the North Island, where the world famous Kauri forest is located. The Kauri is a kind of Agathis tree that ranges from Southeast Asia to Oceania, and to New Zealand. The Kauri is not that tall but can be massive, growing several meters in diameter. I decided to go directly to see the Kauri forest of Waipoua in the north since if I pass through the town, I would be wasting time.  Among the four huge trees I saw, the one named Te Matua Ngahere was the biggest, with a trunk circumference measuring 16.41 meters. The incredibly fat tree stood heavily on the village ground. A massive tree indeed, possessed a strong sense of existence just by standing there.

Visitors take their seats a little away on benches to study the size of the huge tree. I had ever seen large trees all over the world, and found that the Kauri strongly possessed a peculiar presence of massiveness, probably because they are not as tall as other huge trees in other areas. They have something similar to the Yaku Cedars, but the texture is more dried, and as a whole, they have a dried impression. The more I stared at them, the more they fixed me on the bench. I felt the drawing spiritual power in them. As I left the forest, I drove to the North Cape. The road was covered with pebbles and sands. A lighthouse stood over a steep slop battered constantly by strong winds at the northern end of New Zealand.

In the evening, I went back and stayed overnight around the center of the peninsula.  On the next day, I visited the Kauri Museum, an excellent museum. If there is something admirable about New Zealand it is the way it has preserved the huge trees, and one sees this in the kinds of exhibitions one finds in museums of this kind.  There we could get various kinds of information, from the process of cutting down huge Kauri trees, to details about their ecosystem. I feel disappointed that there is no such equivalen museum of the tree in Japan.

I spent a few more days going around the northern and the middle parts of the North Island, and inspecting the vegetation of the Coromandel Peninsula, before flying to Christchurch. In Christchurch, I rented a car and took the southern road, enjoying the dazzling scenery as I drove to Millford Sound. The Antarctic Beech trees which lined the road were huge and beautiful. I then took the Fjord cruise for Mt. Cook and saw the mountain soaring behind lake with its own sense of identity, despite being only 3,000 meters-class in height. I booked an accommodation there, walked around the area and looked at the mountains of the Holy Valley where clear stream from the glacier was beautifully running down the bottom.

Next day, I drove to the west coast to see the marsh forest along the coastline, and on the third morning, I entered Cascade Valley, a less known area but one I consider the most amazing I had ever seen. With tree ferns and thick moss, the forest of Antarctic beech unfolded before my eyes, drenched in green with high atmospheric humidity. After marveling at the site, I headed for the central town of Hokitika along the coast, which is famous for its industrial arts. The town’s crafts included ones made of sapphire, glass, blades, and textiles. From Hokitika, I returned to Christchurch via the mountainous Arthur’s pass.  On the way, I visited a store that dealt with pots made of the stump of the Antarctic beech. Their surface finish was perfect with the tar and the grain blending so well. They were sold at reasonable prices, but could not purchase them as I already promised myself not to increase my arts and crafts collection at home.

I returned to Japan via Singapore and found myself in the same airplane with Prof. Katsuyoshi Fukui (Kyoto University) who had just come back from Ethiopia. This was a rare occasion. Back in Japan, I received the proofs for the Iwanami Shinsho and made some final corrections.  It seems like I will be able to make it on the day of my retirement. In the beginning of February,  I thoroughly cleaned up my room and transferred about 90 percent of my stuff to the new storehouse. During those two snowy days, my students Shojyaku Mutsumi, Kaga Michi, Takahashi Masakazu, and Charma Sishir Shapan worked hard to help me. On February 6, there was a funeral for Professor Husato Ogawa, the President of Osaka Natural History Museum, who passed away. He was one of the pioneers in the tropical zone studies and offered me great help and advise. Yamakura Takuo, professor of Osaka City University, extended his sincere condolences.

The Road to Uzbekistan

On February 10, I left for Uzbekistan with Abe Kenichi (Kyoto University). This was one travel that had been one of my long dreams. When we were students, as members of the expedition club we all dreamt of exploring this place in the future. Just hearing the names of historical cities like Tashkent, Samarkand, and Bukhara made us excited. That day finally came just before my retirement. Our host was husband of Obiya Chika (Kyoto University) of the area studies program, who is a well known photographer in Uzbekistan. We met him in Tashkent and sought his advice for our fieldtrip. As expected, he gave us very detailed information on the country.  We hired a Sedan car with a driver and an interpreter and headed west.

Our plan was to see Samarkand, and the ruins at Bukhara, before proceeding to the western desert. The main purpose of the tour was not only to visit historical cities but also to study how the Aral Sea had dried up as a result of the cotton fields in the Amdaria Basin gradually sucking up the water from the Aral Sea. Indeed when we arrived there, we saw a site that was once filled to the brim with blue water but was now so empty that it looked like a desert. We went to see an iron boat abandoned in the middle of the desert, its reddish brown hue silently sitting on the sand. The people said there were plenty of them around but the government had them removed because of their negative attraction.

The Aral Sea showcases the most dramatic features of our world’s environmental problems. The government of Uzbekistan insists that it will go on increasing cotton field production even if the Aral Sea had dried up, because cotton is its most important commodity.  The government claims it has been digging large irrigation canals to send water to the cotton fields. This meant also that less and less water would reach the Aral Sea. This is a rare example of a huge lake artificially drying up because of crop cultivation on its vicinity.

A great number of people live in the mountain area topped with glaciers that “flow” down to the lake. While the canals are indispensable to their lives, the impact of the depletion of the vast lake ecosystem on the surrounding areas was incalculable. This was a significant example of how political and economic issues created such devastating environmental impact. As I looked at the scene, I realized that human desires had once again taken everything away.

Uzbekistan is still an impoverished state, although it had won its independence from the former Soviet Union.  But neighboring countries are also poor and together these nations fight each other in pursuit of their own interests, resulting in such tragedies as the Aral Sea. More serious environmental problems awaits them in the future. These were what was foremost in our minds as we drove under the cold sky with snow and sleet falling. What would become of these impoverished states, without the warmth of places like Southeast Asia?

As we left the area, we considered launching an eco-tour modeled on the unusual approach of visiting these ruins, with the Aral Sea and the desert as one of the principal visited sites.  Unlike Southeast Asia, these area was distinct for the crossroads of cultures where the world’s histories intermingled with each other from the East and the West. It harbors a vast geographical expanse and a long history, representing major puzzles for the islanders like the Japanese.

To be honest, I am relieved that I did not include this area as part of my research interest and was reassured that Southeast Asia remains a wonderful odd place of study.  At any rate, the impression of my first travel to this part of the the defunct Soviet bloc has been strongly embedded in my heart, helped perhaps by the winter frost I experienced.

My Last travel to Thailand: The International Exchange Program of  Kyoto University

Kyoto University has the longest history in Japan in terms of field research as well as place for theorizing and explanation. However, when it came to student international exchange programs, the university is sadly way behind other schools. And while there have been exchanges of academics across the world, the education aspect of such interaction has been neglected here.  Today, other universities, particularly the private colleges, have organized overseas programs that have become very popular  over the last decade. This eventually convinced Kyoto University authorities to follow the trend by establishing its own international exchange course  in 2005.

We entered into partnerships with schools in China and Thailand and I was entrusted with the organizing the first Japan-Thailand exchange program with the Kasetsart University. I was assigned this role in my absence, but I decided to accept it as I had been interested in working on such kinds of projects before retirement. As a condition to my acceptance, the University promised to hire an assistant and Research Associate (now Associate Professor) Masayuki Yanagisawa was appointed to help me. We then entered into negotiations with Kasetsart University before our departure.

We asked Professor Pongsak Sahunalu  to draw up a plan while as he was at the Center for Southeast Asian Studies as visiting professor. Professor Pongsak is professor at the Kasetsart University has been a friend of mine since our days of taking PhD courses together.  He knew everything about where to visit and was familiar also with working with Japanese colleagues specializing on forest studies.  In the beginning, we had planned a 20-days excursion, which was soon reduced to a fortnight after we realized that it was too long. Our original program centered on study visits on forests and environmental issues, but after realizing that participating students would be coming from different faculties, we added agricultural and social economy issues to our focus.

Kasetsart University authorities welcomed our program with delight, saying that they had been waiting for such occasion for some time now.  The main concern, however, was the students’ accommodations.  At first, we proposed that the Japanese side pay for their stay in Thailand, but changed this after realizing that this could not be applied to the Thai side because of the high cost of living in Japan. We finally agreed that each country pay the entire cost of the the program when held in the respective countries. While Kasetsart University was clearly more experienced in such undertakings compared to Kyoto University, things did not progress that despite the agreement. Pongsak-san, however, backed us by speaking to various sources of support. Once the Thai side was able to prepare adequately for the project and a preview did well, we were given the go-ahead signal.

Just before leaving Japan, students took classes conducted by Thai specialists. On March 6, 2006, everyone meet at Kansai airport and everything went smoothly save for one student barely made it because he overslept and missed the train. Upon arriving in Bangkok, we had a lunch meeting with our Thai counterparts, followed by a joint meeting at Kasetsart University the next day with the university’s vice presidents and the students who were going to visit Japan. During the introductions, I was shocked at the Japanese students difficulties in introducing themselves confidently.

We started the two week’s tour from the eastern to the northern part of Thailand, riding the two small buses. Our Kasetsart colleagues had also arranged to have fine young teachers make sure the tour went smoothly.  We stayed in a quite luxurious hotel in Chiang Mai, and this made the students so happy.  At the end of our tour, we stayed at a fairly old guest house by the sea which had a old fashioned shower system and where water was stored in a bucket to be scooped to pour over one’s head. The sight of fur-like substances in the water led to quite a few female students deciding not to bathe there but instead to just wipe their bodies with wet tissues. I was surprised by their reaction, but I thought this could not be helped as they had been accustomed to a life of excessive cleanliness in Japan.

We all returned to Bangkok safely and in our last meeting to exchange ideas, everyone talked so cheerfully as if they were different people. It thought this change in their personalities after just a fortnight’s trip could be a good example to cite in the future.  At the airport, friends on the both sides declared that they would miss each, and the customary picture taking followed, lasting for over ten of minutes in front gate.

In May, it was the Thai students’ turn  to visit us. The Japanese students, who had participated in the Thai tour , helped us a lot by attending to the excursion needs of their Thai counterparts and thus deepen their exchanges with each other.  I also showed the students around Kyoto for a day and I invited them over to my house for a party in the end. On that day our small house was packed with about 20 people, and we all enjoyed the get-together till late at night. At the farewell party, the young people stuck to each other for a long time as they did in Thailand. And thus was the International Exchange Program concluded without any trouble. This was the second time for the Center for the Southeast Asian Studies to organize such a summer seminar in Thailand.

Having accomplished my last responsibility, I realized that such projects should be more encouraged. For unlike the customary academic lectures in Japan, the international exchange program could leave young people with vivid and deep memories of their two weeks of being  together as they visit new places. A student does not experience any anxiety of being alone and isolated for he/she will always be part of a group. I sincerely hope that the University will continue with such exchanges in the future, and for all the different faculties to participate in a project that will sure change the directions of their students’ lives.

Retirement

And then, on March 31, I finally went into the retirement safely. I say “safely” as there have been cases of people who could be stranded at certain stages of their active lives for various reasons before reaching retirement.  I am, first of all, happy that I stayed in such good health as I go into retirement. My wife also seems to have been praying secretly that I reach retirement without any trouble. In my retirement memorial lecture at the Kyoto University Hall, I talked about my own life history around the forests, concluding by mentioning my hopes for the creation of a beautiful world in the future. It was at that moment that I noticed the room filled with many people standing to listen to my speech.

The party for the celebration was held at the Brighton Hotel that evening. As usual, the female members of the Center for Southeast Asian Studies worked hard to prepare for the celebration and the result was a amazing international night  where everyone who attended talked both in Japanese and in English. I also saw Ms. Kawai Tomoko, Ms. Nishio Masami, Ms. Tabata Noriko of the Center’s Liaison Office of the Research Division, Ms. Kitamura Yumi of the Library, our Secretary Ms. Kataoka Toshiko, Ms. Okunishi Kumi, Ms. Hamamoto Satoko, Ms. Ide Michiyo, Ms. Saito Akiko, and Ms. Yamaguchi Kiyoko of the Information Processing Room, all made great efforts to make the evening a success.

I requested my superior Ogino-san and the master of the flower arrangement,  Mr. Hakushu Tsujii (President of Saga Ikebana School), Lee Hua Seng, and Peter Kedit (former President of the Sarawak Museum), to give speeches, while Noh master Michiharu Teshima performed “Takasago,” and Professor Tatsuo Kira (Emeritus Profess, Osaka City University)  to propose a toast. Video messages from the people I know all over the glove were also shown at intervals. Other friends also delivered speeches, and the party ended merrily.  Dr. Shinji Suzuki, a CSEAS postgraduate student, ran the party perfectly.  We then had a second party at the Center’s main lounge (Tonan-tei) where we shared a cake prepared by my wife, plus the ethnic cuisine cooked by students. After accepting bunches of flowers, we concluded that long day.

Around that time, the series “Science” was also completed, thanks to the able care of Asaeda Chigusa of the Iwanami Shoten Publishers and with the timely support of Ota Junko, Iwanami Shinsho’s  “The World Forest Report” was put out on time. I am also grateful to  Abe Kenichi and Iizuka Noriko for proposing that Timor coffee be handed as gift to the guests in commemoration of the party.

A Year after Retirement

I hope I could  say that I will have a brand new and less demanding life starting April, but the sight of plenty of still-tobe-organized slides dispelled that. As I wanted to have them sorted properly, recorded on CDs and preserved at the Center for Southeast Asian Studies, I found myself still working at the Emeritus Professor’s room after the April.  In June and July,  I started teaching at the APU in Kyushu as visiting professor, invited by my superior Fukui Hayao. Half of the students in that school are international students coming from 70 countries. It was pleasing to see international students with different kinds of their appearances. I taught classes on environmental issues in Japanese and in English.  Preparation for the classes was a hard work, but Kataoka Toshiko was, once again a great help.

With summer vacation I was freed from giving lectures and on August 21, I set out for Sulawesi using Professor Tanaka’s  GASR which was to end that year. I explored the central mountain area to examine eaglewood and ebony. Then, I went to Java, Surabaya and Probolinggo, and Sumbawa before returning to Japan, again via Singapore. On the next day after I returned, I flew again to Bogor, Indonesia to attend a symposium organized under the Core University Program of Hokkaido University. It was the last international symposium on a 10 year project on Central Kalimantan. It was a successful wonderful project, made interesting  by the presence of major members who were now in their 50, young students, and excellent counterparts. In between the conferences, I examined samples of eaglewood at the Bogor Herbarium. The building has been there since 1969 when I came to study in the country, but it will be moved to Cibinong next year. It is a pity that the Botanical Garden and the Herbarium of Bogor will be separated, but I soon learned that this was not a bad idea after all since the emptied building will soon house some kind of Museum of Natural History. The town of Bogor, to which I have a lot of fond memories, will gradually change. When I left the town, I was somewhat maudlin about what I will miss.

The next forum I attended was on ecological anthropology in Guilin, China. I decided to join it  as it was hosted by my old friend, Professor Yin Shaoting of Yunnan University.  I had not visited Guilin since 1990, but I noticed that the number of the tourist had remarkably increased. The town has become much nicer and the nearby terraced paddy had been kept neat for the tourists.  There were just a few researchers studying ecological anthropology in China today, but it appears out Chinese colleagues are recognizing that it is an important field. This explains why the forum will be held annually from now on.  Akimichi-san of the Institute of Humanity and Nature and Abe-san of the Center for Integrated Area Studies of the Kyoto University were with me at the forum.

A day after my return from China,  I again set off, this time  to Eastern Europe, touring for a month Poland, the three Baltic States, Hungary, Czech, Slovakia, Austria and Switzerland.  I met my old friend Walter and saw his house undergoing renovation. I also visited a friend who lives in Switzerland and loves paintings. Apart from collecting contemporary paintings, he is a known as a collector of the Ukiyo-e woodblock prints and the works of local painters.   He showed me his precious collections, each of which was kept in a large map case. I really appreciated it very much that I could see them and to know that there are like-minded people are everywhere.

Assam

In November, I continued to work on my slides and from December to January 2007, I conducted classes at the APU. In February, I went to Assam (via Bangkok) using Professor Kazuo Ando’s GASR and toured Arunachal.  In the past, Professor Sasuke Nakao would have told me to go to Assam next, but in those days it was difficult to enter the area . I had to wait until my retirement to get there. I changed flights to the local line from Kolkata, and as soon as I arrived in Guwahati, I drove to Giro.  After spending two nights along the way I finally reached a a pass which was about 2,000 meters above sea level. Below it was Giro, a fascinating basinwith beautiful paddy fields and the bamboo trees surrounded by the blue pines. The paddy fields had exceptionally fine ridges, that Ando-san – who came with me – was eagerly examining them. Huge blue pine trees bristled around the bamboo woods, which had been neatly kept like those in Kyoto.

As I walked to the end of Giro, the Laurel Forest nested in an area with an altitude of a little over 1,600 meters from sea level. It was a site away from the beaten tracks. As I expected this area is part of the last remaining of a huge swath of Laurel Forests that once ranged from Bhutan to Myanmar and around Assam. At the end of the tour, I was lucky to be able to see rhinoceros with their infants at the Kaziranga National Park. I encountered these animals in Africa or in Java, but this was the first time that I saw them with their babies. And it was only in Assam where I saw six pairs of them with a male rhinoceros. When I left for India, I told myself that I should be come back to Nagaland next time.

New Zealand

After Assam, I returned to New Zealand and toured northern part of the South Island which  I failed to see in the previous year.  I walked around numerous forests of Antarctic beech and Podocarpus, spending a few hours in them, each in the morning and in the afternoon.   In between forests, I found myself driving the distance of 400 kilometers per day on the average. These forests were located in mountains and so it was inevitable that I drive to see them through dusty roads. But the drive was worth it because I always end up encountering these fascinating forests, rivers, and mountains.  The New Zealand landscape has similarities with Japan –compact and with a sense of its existence. Above all, what was good about New Zealand was that it did not have that many people as Japan. There were fewer cars on roads and once you are inside a forest, you have less chance of meeting people. The alluring forests of Antarctic beech were all for you to soak in.

By the end of the tour, I visited places that I had wanted to see for one more time and these include the Cascade Valley in the southwest and the marsh in its vicinity, as well as the forests of Mt. Aspiring.  I noticed that the Antarctic beeches were growing large and spread extensively around the torrent that flowed out from the glaciers. The eastern half of the North Island was the last area that I saw in New Zealand, although the finest forests were mostly clustered on the western side.

Auckland airport in March was crowded with Japanese – from groups of young students coming for short-term study, to retiree tourists. I hardly met those rare species like myself, who strolled the lonesome forests my ourselves.  I left the country wondering how the young Japanese will be able to display a little independence.

Conclusion

During the three days between my return from New Zealand and departure for the next destination, Australia, I attended the gathering of the Archive.  I gave a talk and video presentation on the rainforests of the tropical and temperate zones under the theme, “Time and Space in the World of Rainforests.”  On the second day, I attended the meeting of Council of the Nagao Foundation. It has been 20 years since the foundation was created to support young researchers working on nature studies of Southeast Asia by granting them scholarships. The foundation also funds academics who are just beginning to make their works known.  I have been a member of the foundation since its establishment, when I was invited by Professor Taishichiro Sato (Emeritus, Tokyo University)  to join it. During that time voluntary foundations such as the Nagao Foundation were rare, and they remain to be the case to to this very day. But it has been highly acclaimed in abroad.

On the day before I left for Australia, my former colleague Sakurai Yumio (Tokyo University)  had his retirement memorial lecture and the celebration party. We were both assistants during those early days, together with Yasunari Tetsuzo and Yamakage Susumu.  Back then, we would always chat over cups of coffee in the afternoon. Then we would go about our respective tasks until late in the night. But when Professor Kyuma Kazutake of Soil Studies carried two meal boxes with him, this meant he will be working till near-midnight. I then would make it a rule to stay in our office until he left. Fukui-san, however,  informed me more recently that Kyuma-san stayed late because he loved playing Goh with Fukui-san.. He also told me that Director Ichimura Shinichi would drop by at times to join in.  There is also a famous episode from those days that those studying nature subjects frequently visited a Mahjong club by the Koujin Bridge, and their secretaries would come to call them back when they had business to attend to. But those were the good old days; today everyone has become too busy and has less time for such fun.  One should step back a bit and give thought as to which situation can contribute more to academic productivity.

On March 17, I left for a trip to Australia to mark the close of a year after the retirement.  I had two main purposes for the tour – first was to call on Jim Warren from the Murdoch University in Perth, who was former visiting professor at the Center, and, second, to visit the enormous Eucalyptus forest located 400 Km south of Perth. While the time was short (a little less than a week) I was able renew our old friendship while achieving my dearest wish of walking through the tremendous forest of Eucalyptus. On the day of my return to Japan, Yamamoto Norio of the National Museum of Ethnology had his retirement party. There was a symposium in the afternoon, and the party was held in the evening celebrating his retirement and his being awarded the Prince Chichibu Memorial Prize. Yamamoto-san and I were members of the expedition club that explored Andes and Bhutan.

In the last years, my old friends were also retiring one after another.  Looking back at the recent two years, I noticed that my last-ditch efforts worked out quite well. Although I was not able to attain my original plan of 300 days of field visits, what I did was more than enough. In addition, despite my presumption that I would not be working hard after the retirement, I found out that by April 1, 2007, I would have had done 98 overseas fieldworks. So two more trips would make it 100. For a very frequent traveler, 100 might be not a significant figure, but for me, it represents a turning point. At my celebration party for the retirement, Professor Kira Tatsuo encouraged me not to stop at 100 but go for 150, or even 200!

It is easy to stop moving, but once you stop, you start to feel weary about the idea of resuming it.  After all, a fieldworker is expected to maintain some kind of vigor all the time and remain positive. Fortunately, I am still in shape and ready to go to places places that I have not explored before. As I have already cleared all the destinations I had set 10 years ago,  I went on checking out places I wished to visit. I found out that these could easily reached about 30.

From now on, I will be paying more attentions to my physical strength and pace myself in carrying out these plans. But the list must still include a few places that I want to visit again. For such places would have greatly changed in the course of time, and it is important that those studying area studies observe these transformations. I have done this, at least on Southeast Asia, a region which has changed considerably over a period of 40 years. However, I only had a few visits to China, South America and the Middle East so I hope to make it a point to see these places. If I stop now, then I sure will regret not visiting them in the long run.

On the other hand, there is the question of the the heaps of data, books and slides that still need to be organized. Nowadays, I feel as if my dormant field notes are groaning in my library.  I also would like to stay in Japan and get a chance to work with the young people. Having all these matters in mind has kept me quite busy.  I had thought I would have more leisure time in retirement, given that I would be freed from such “necessary evils” as conferences. Yet, at the same, I find myself without much time to rest, and of being thoroughly occupied with tasks as I had accumulated throughout the years. But I do feel terrific, since, from now on, I only work on things I like to do. My duties hereafter are to continue my fieldwork as much as possible, while sorting the my tons of data to steadily make them available to the public.  Finally, I should not forget to live in the world of my own hobbies.

In my tour to Sulawesi last year, I met Inoue Hayayuki who was brought up in Kyoto, lived in the town of Palu, and dealt with ebony for 17 years. He loved to tell me stories, and in one meeting with him, he gave me a chance to buy a set of Chinoiserie made of ebony – this was something I wished I could have for a long time.  Currently, my biggest dream is to talk to people close to me over cups of Chinese tea or Japanese sake, while being seated on this chair, lighting incense of Aloes Wood. I dream of such days to come, but I am also at a loss as to how to find a space to do such things amidst this soaring mess.

Nowadays, I always ponder, when  I go out for a research, how to conclude my life. Every day, when evening falls in the tropical zones, the amazing glow of sunset unfolds until the world is absorbed into sheer darkness.  I always reflect about these sunsets in different places on Earth, trying to figure out the appropriate length of the last flaring moment before darkness sets in.  The most impressive sunsets I have ever seen are the one at the seashore of Bali, and the coal-black heavy darkness of the peat swamp forest in Kalimantan. I also encountered a majestic old Eucalyptus during my last trip. It stood there covered only with its bark and with scars all over its trunk through the hundreds of years. Even if its boughs had withered away, new buds were sprouting up from beneath. Clinging to the old knots were other young trees that had grown on the aged tree. Despite the fading stems, the old Eucalyptus had persistently nurtured younger generations around himself. I see my future in this aged tree.

My fellows had also retired one by one, and are pursuing their own new paths post-retirement.  Works of the researchers last until they die. The old tree showed me how to keep it up until the day to come.

The Last Six Months

The start of 2007 turned out to another busy year. Since my new application for a GASR was accepted, I will be working for 4 years on a project titled “Rare Ecological Resources and Ecopolitics.”  I will be a sole elder member this time as the project consists mainly of young researchers whom I had worked with in different places.  These days, application forms include a section called “effort,” which states the percentage contribution of each member of the team in preparing the proposal. We usually state 10 percent, but in I often wrote 80 percent,  having decided to put all my efforts into this project aside from my classes at APU.

I learned later that I was one of the four Emeritus Professors of Kyoto University to be granted a GASR. This is quite important since I have been hearing that emeritus professors are often shunned by their more active colleagues (as was the case in the Faculty of Science).  Although I am not sure about how to go about this, I expect that I will be able to contribute quite substantially to the  research only after I am released from the chores of the incumbency. These days, we are fortunately granted with longer life as senior citizens.

I would feel sorry if I ignored a life supported by the burden of taxpayers if I would not give my best in this stage of my life. Therefore, I had occupied myself by lecturing at APU in April and May, attending the congress of the JASTE in June, and touring Syria and Oman in July, Indonesia to Malaysia in August and September. My fieldwork had indeed reached a record 100.  But an accident in a Syndler-made elevator forced me to postpone my plan to climb Mt. Kinabalu, commemorating my achievement of the 100^th field to next year.  Then, in October and November, I had two field trips to Thailand and Laos, looking at perishing rare resources in the context of inter-people and the inter-states relations.

The last stage of area studies lies in how to pinpoint one’s specialization on the whole globe.  Area studies cannot be concluded without this contextualization. But before that, one’s immediate concern is how to cover this vast world within the limit of my life.

Isamu Yamada is professor emeritus of Kyoto University. This essay is an English translation from an Japanese original which he wrote in mid-2007 and submitted for publication in the CSEAS journal Tonan Aijia, Volume 45 (September 2007). Kyoto Review is extremely grateful to the staff of Tonan Aijia for granting us permission to reprint and translate Professor Yamada’s essay.