Rivalries Aside, U.S., Japanese Farmers Are A Lot Alike At Least One Japanese Grower Sees Some Benefits To Competition From American Apples
Physically demanding jobs such as farming, the Japanese expression goes, are threeK jobs.
In English, those Ks translate into Ds: dirty, dark and difficult.
Still, Shuichi Narita wants to grow apples full time without moonlighting as a taxi driver.
“I have always had a dream to grow apples,” he said.
While farmers in Japan and the United States may have different opinions on international trade policy, they share a love of the land and many of the difficulties associated with farming.
Narita, his wife, Setsu, and their two sons live in the small city of Iwaki in Aomori prefecture. Aomori, in northern Japan, is the nation’s leading apple-growing region.
Vast acres of apple trees - burdened with snow in the winter - fill the hills in the area.
Among them is Narita’s 2-acre plot, where he grows eight varieties of apples. Narita’s land, tiny compared to Washington orchards, is about the average size for one Japanese grower.
He’s eagerly planning to build a home next to his orchard. Meanwhile, he rents a modest house several miles away.
Narita has been closely following the efforts of Washington growers to promote their red and golden Delicious apples in Japan.
He isn’t convinced yet that Japanese consumers will like the slightly tart red Delicious apples enough to keep buying them. But he’s also not as resentful of the American imports as some Japanese growers.
The publicity about Washingtongrown apples reminds Narita of the two years he spent in Wenatchee, Yakima and Hood River, Ore.
From 1969 to 1971, he lived with host farmers and learned the American way of growing apples.
He was a part of a national training program, in which young Japanese men were sent to the U.S. to study different agricultural fields. He also studied agriculture at community college and an apple research station in Hirosaki.
Narita belongs to the Aomori Apple Association, which is about 8,000 members strong. The group, independent of the government, formed about 50 years ago to share knowledge about growing techniques.
It also organized protests when the ban on U.S. apple imports was lifted.
Narita’s personal views about the apple industry don’t necessarily echo the association’s official line.
He wonders why the standard for Japanese apples has become so high: finicky consumers pass up apples with odd shapes or uneven coloring.
“If the stem area is dark,” he said, “you can’t sell them.”
And the expensive apples are huge. Fuji is the most popular, but Sekai Ichi - which means, “number one in the world” - are even larger fruit.
“Only Japan makes big, big apples,” Narita said, “no where else.”
He argues that bigger apples lose their flavor faster.
Narita said that the pressure of cheaper American apples might trigger improvements in the Japanese industry.
The distribution system is too complicated, he said. “If I can sell them straight (to the consumer), we can make them more low-cost.”
Narita’s cab driving job sometimes gives him the opportunity to sell directly to buyers, such as tourists.
“They say my apples taste good,” he said with a smile.
However, that’s the only part about his second job that he doesn’t hate.
“It’s too hard,” Narita said of the nighttime piecework. “I have no time to sleep.”
“That’s a dirty, dark and difficult job, too,” he said.
But Narita said that the satisfaction he gets from harvesting apples makes it worth it.
“For me,” he said, “even if I have to work during the nighttime, get only two or three hours of sleep and then go to the orchard, that’s OK.”
“My heart is (pleased).”
If he quits driving cabs, Narita figures that he would need three more acres of apple trees to make a living.
As he hopes for personal success, he is also optimistic about relations between Japanese and American apple growers and about the trade imbalance.
Money and politics aside, he said, both country’s farmers have much in common and shouldn’t be at odds with each other.
Farming is becoming less appealing to younger generations. Narita said he’s not sure that his sons will take over his apple business, a fear that American farmers also face.
Like many family farms in the United States, Narita deals with problems associated with running a small business.
His is a small operation.
“I just do it myself,” he said. His wife helps when she is not at her part-time assembly job. Narita hires one or two workers for the harvest season.
To reduce costs, he and 14 other farmers bought two pesticide-spraying machines and share them.
“We need to help each other,” Narita said.