Upon confirming that my partner shared the same impression, I telephoned Mr. Jiro Suzuki and met him in person. My preconception of an organic farmer until that day had been that of an energetic, passionate type having at least a thing or two to say about the corrupted agricultural business. But the person I saw was quiet and very "ordinary" just like any other countryman in his 60s with little opinion about anything. I explained to him briefly our "mission statement," which appeared rather shallow before his way of being.

The next time I visited Jiro-san, he was sorting out reaped buckwheat plants and picking ripen grains one by one by hand. "People would usually discard cut grass along with green grains that aren't ripe. But if you let it sit for a while, they'll turn red and become edible," he said. Then, he gave me a small bagful of buckwheat flour that he had ground by hand and told me to make Japanese-style dumplings with it. Not knowing how to cook the traditional food (how ironic!), I made pancakes instead and spread them with butter and organic maple syrup from Canada. They were delicious to say the least and at the same time "comforting." My husband and son agreed with me with "Mmmm" and "Ahhh." We couldn't help picturing Jiro-san whirling the stone grinder slowly and steadily.

In the early May 2001, my family and I joined the Suzuki's in harvesting the first tea crop of the season. Jiro-san taught us how to pick the bud and the top two leaves that should be the only constituents of the highest-quality green tea. As we moved our clumsy hands, we were all impressed with the vibrancy and vigor of the leaves. I also noticed that the soil was very fluffy and moist; standing on it was soothing. Mr. and Mrs. Suzuki, as well as their children, in-laws, and grandchildren were all there, working and talking ever joyously. No wonder his tea tastes so good... it's simply full of love and care, for the land, for the plants, and for the family... it especially touches a person like me who once denied and rebelled against her own family and ancestral heritage...

I was born and raised in Japan, but fled to the United States after graduating from college to free myself from all sorts of social/cultural bindings. In the land of liberty and opportunity, I was able to discover certain endearing aspects of me that had been suppressed in my upbringing. I flourished in my new "settlement," but unfortunately, in a sort of superficial way. By the time I decided to leave the country, I was painfully aware that something was so desperately missing from the "rugged individualist" that I had become during the ten years living away from home. It was time to reconcile with my own roots.