A few months ago, I read you can find trolls in a magical forest in Belgium. Of course I looked up and read that Thomas Dambo, a Danish artist, made rolls with old palettes, recycled wood, fallen trees and branches – with the help of volunteers from the region. On the occasion of the 15th anniversary of Tomorrowland, a famous festival in and from Belgium. Of course this was on my to-visit-list as soon as I would be back in Belgium. Trolls, rescued wood and a forest setting… this is so… me.
This week, when I came back from the “country of trolls” and had experienced also some forest bathing there, I had some time to go “hunting” for trolls in this Belgian forest with my dad. The place of the municipality is “Boom” and could be translated freely as “Tree.” The golden yellow birch leaves sparkled in the evening sun. I also noticed that we were not the only ones who went looking for the trolls on a late rainy Wednesday evening. It feels encouraging when you notice art full of magic and mysticism gets people to nature.
Apparently, Thomas Dambo has made trolls all over the world and calls himself a recycle art activist. Did you see Thomas’ trolls somewhere?
By coincidence, I heard later that a young man in my parents’ street is also a sort of recycling art activist who is building a viking construction in the same forest where I will organise a forest bath this weekend (topic for the next post!).
It feels almost serendipity that I am encountering so many art works inspired by Nordic culture and using rescued wood…
Perhaps, as my trainers and mentors of the Association of Nature and Forest Therapy (ANFT) said in some way, … that from the moment you take the journey of the guide, and deepen your connection with the land, the other beings… that “the right things” come to you… the things which are meant to you.
My tent is still drying in the veranda as I am writing this. This past weekend I got to take part in the event supported and funded by BOS+ (my favourite forest advocate organisation in Flanders) and CM (my favourite health insurance provider in Flanders). The concept of the weekend was to offer people different kinds […]
In the past 6 months, I was working at a story that would become eventually my debut roman. It is funny how things turn out. I was actually working at another manuscript for 8 years (!), but then a golden opportunity came (read: I could use a part of a grant for a communication about circulair economy). So, my story about dryads is put on a hold and in April I used all my free evenings on writing “If Furniture Could Talk“. I wrote in my mother tongue, so the title is actually “Als Meubels Konden Spreken”. I am using a lot of my knowledge about eco-psychology and ecolinguistics in this story, because I wanted to write a story with impact. This article shares some ideas about the impact of stories on sustainable transitions, and my own learning and writing process.
A small fairytale about circular economy
Once upon a time… a beautiful planet with some finite supplies of raw materials and materials, where beautiful people live. They invented beautiful things. Unfortunately, they organised their economy in a linear way. This led to a major materials and energy crisis. Some of the brainiacs preached for a more circular economy, but the old linear ways were already so firmly anchored that not many beautiful people responded to their ideas. The collegeboys came up with scientific reports full of evidence. But no… yet the rest of the population didn’t want to change. That caused a lot of frustration among those brainiacs. Why is the transition so slow? Why is it not accepted by others? Why don’t people change so quickly?
In Flanders (Belgium), there have been wonderful initiatives in the field of circular economy for years. But not all of them bear the label of circular economy – because that is still an abstract concept. Or yes, a lot of information has been written precisely for highly educated people, especially in the sustainability sector. Although… more and more you see economists at the workshops of Flanders Circular. Circular economy clashes with a glass ceiling, and according to Bold Branders, the collective of volunteers to who I belong, this is sometimes due to the communication and management of knowledge.
Why storytelling?
At Bold Branders we look at science, but we know that scientific texts and reports are not widely accepted by the general public. There is also a wealth of research that allows people to influence their choices more through emotions than reason.
This is why we are opting for the oldest form of knowledge management in which we evoke emotions: stories. For thousands of years, people have passed on knowledge, culture, norms and values from generation to generation on the basis of stories. Also recently, knowledge about sustainability and ecological and social problems has been disseminated worldwide, with perhaps Rachel Carson’s “Dead Spring” (Silent Spring) as the best known example. That’s why we, Bold Branders, decided to write a circular novel…. to live happily ever after.
Today I went bicycling in my paternal grandparents’ region. Some time ago, an old friend from university, a linguist with a big passion for history, who is born in the same village as my grandfather, promised me to share his local knowledge and stories about trees, stones and other beings of this region.
Today we were both available and I was in Belgium. We could go for a reunion in a hot chocolate bar (we do have these bars in Belgium), but I reminded him to the promised bicycling tour. He liked the idea. I prepared the bicycle and met him in front of the 12th century church of Vorselaar. Autumn accompanied us at this tour of probably 50kms (more than I had anticipated, but I brought chocolate). I traveled through heathland and forests, listened to stories which are hundred years old, and all his explanations of local names (he is a linguist after all). A lovely surprise was the gravestone for a local tree called “heksenboom”, aka the witch tree, and the “Achtzalighedenboom, or Eight Beautitudes Tree.
As part of my 6 month long practicum with the Association of Nature and Forest Therapy (ANFT), I have to guide 4 forest baths. Directly after I did the on-site training in Colorado and explored USA, I left for Belgium. I have not been in my country for 8 months, and in some view, even not have really lived there intensively for 4 years. Since the ANFT training I feel slowly that I start to appreciate the land where I am born… again after so many years. In my last blog reflecting about the on-site training in Colorado, I mention already I start to imagine to even work and live there for a long time. Being in Belgium, it emerges more, because I see all the beauty there. It is a bit scary to reorient old dreams and ideas that I prefer to live and settle in more “wilder” places. This blog is about my first week in Belgium, the (re)connection with the land and ancestors, and about the mixed feelings that start to arise since I walk the path of forest therapy guide.
Reconnecting with the apple tree and the land
In the first week I was on the land of my ancestors (read the home my paternal grandfather built) and had the pleasure to sit in the garden, between the apple and pear trees my brother and I planted ourselves some years ago. The first morning I looked at the old tree friends in our paternal family’s wild garden/forest and checked which had died and will be replaced soon by new trees. It had rained, so the smells were nice. I greeted the new tree (the magic tree; as my brother called it) and then went to our small orchard to check the state and study the mushrooms at their feet 🍄 . I took some apples and made an extract for me and my brother (and added some cinnamon.) I gave a bit of the tea back to the apple tree to thank her for providing these fruits. I thought about to bring also some of her fruits to my first forest bath; as apple reminds me to Halloween/Samhain and represents also beauty and self-care, fit for a yoga & hike weekend, but I stepped away from this and choose for something more wild and local.
However, I was a bit disappointed that my brother did not pick most of the pears and apples on time; they were all on the ground and rotting. I had arrived to late to pluck them. Some days later, it was a bit more sunny. I was drinking matcha latte in a chair and observing red admirals eating the fallen pears and apples. Seeing the butterflies enjoying it, let me realize it was not a loss. In nature, there is no waste. The rotten apple taught me a lesson about reframing too: everything changes, nothing perishes.
Connecting with an ancestor and a folk healer
Since 1989 there has been a plaque for Maria Van Loock, better known as ‘Mie Broos’, at the church in Vorselaar, near the place where she is presumably buried. She was famous, and people from worldwide came to consult her in the end of 19th century, early 20th century. Once I heard she is a bit connected to my own family. She was some sort of aunt of the cousin of my grandfather by marriage. Or something like that. I decided to dive into the history of this figure, and my connection with her, in order to learn more and reconnect with the land we share(d).
She was not a doctor, but she learned from the experiences of her parents who were both employed by a doctor. She also learned a lot from a doctor for whom she had to help prepare medicines. Through personal searches she expanded that knowledge even further. She knew better than anyone the healing power of plants and prepared ointmentswith them. In addition she used “zoete lies”, which is pig’s fat. The ordinary, poor man could always come to her, as she did not ask a bit to none money for her services. In this way she became legendary. From far and wide, even from abroad, people came on foot or by bicycle to Heiken, where Mie lived, driven by the last hope that they had placed on the competence of the healer from Vorselaar. She was also from a time when my region – the Kempen– was very isolated and poor; as the soil was sandy. Before they planted cultural forests for the mine industry early 20th century, she and my ancestors lived in heathland. Heiken also means heathland in a dialect of Flemish.
Some detective work
My father gave me the phone number of my grandfather’s brother. When I heard his voice, I could recognise the same texture and accent my grandfather had, and recalled it has been a long time ago (maybe when I was still a teen) that I had talked with him. He was happy to hear me, but could not really help me. We were not linked by blood, but there were some family connections. My grandfather’s cousin would be her son, or something like that. He gave me instructions to find Maria Broos, which could be some sort of her niece of Mie Broos, and added: “She is retired, has time to talk and loves to talk. So do not be shy to just visit her.” On my way to the library to pick up a book called “Mie Broos – volksgenezeres 1839 – 1927” I called at her door, but did not got answer. Maybe later. In the library, I found – next to the book about Mie Broos- another book written by a man called Tieto Stoops, which is about the “Kempen, its typical habitants, and the skills of their ancestors, its forgotten vegetables and other peculiarities”. The writer is very protective of local environmental knowledge and this book was even more a treasure for me.
Before the mine industry emerged in Flanders and many culture pine forests were planned to support it, a lot of my ancestor’s region looked like the “Kalmthoutse heide”.
Although Mie Broos is not my family by blood, but there are connections, through the land, I consider her as the elder person. Her stories continue to live in the book and are carried by people sharing her name and memories. I learned about the Kempen, the region to which I belong. Finally diving into her history, although I have other work pulling me, was probably encouraged by my forest therapy guide training. Since some time there is this big feeling of pulling me back to Europe, and the training invites me to not ignore it and explore my relationship with the land where my ancestors were born. Studying the local history, makes the “homecoming” more vivid. It helps to heal my own relationship with the land I have a double feeling with since my grandfather’s forestry accident 13,5 years ago…
When you realise Belgium has the same treasurers as Scandinavia (but just less)
This weekend, my friends gave me the space to guide my first forest bath during a yoga and hiking weekend she organised in Coo in Walloon, the French speaking part of Belgium, next to the Amblève. I was a bit nervous, because I had no time for scouting and trail pre-assessment for my forest bath, but I just trusted that the forest will take care of me and the participants. The first day, my friends organised a hike of 16 kilometers/10 miles. I was sometimes the last of the group because I wanted to study rosehip, fly agaric and honeysuckle 😂.
I noticed that this is the forest bather in me that wanted to slow down, but then I tuned in the hiking energy, which was also very cool. I noticed that when I hike I notice even more than normal, like this caterpillar for example. We also rang at the door of old houses and asked for tap water to the people there. It was a good opportunity to beef up my French a bit.
How longer I am in Belgium (and I am only here for 8 days, so maybe I am in this strange kind of honeymoon) I fel more and more in love with the nature of Belgium. There were many occasions I was surprised to notice beings I saw in Norway, USA and Japan, and thought it could only be found in the wild of these countries, and not in “tamed” Belgium. It was a bit confronting… some way, I know I belong to the land here and can contribute to the ecosystems here by dedicating my life to ecopsychology, but there is still a pull to live in a wild country like Norway or Sweden, which is at least closer to Belgium. I am still a bit confused what to do, and I decided to not think about it for the next half year. I will see what happens.
If I told you this photograph was taken in Norway or Sweden (and point to the birches), you would believe. I found a bit of Scandinavia in this region of Belgium.
Guiding my first forest bath
On Sunday October 13th I guided my first forest bath. With such a beautiful nature as my partner, I had full confidence in it. 15 young spirits joined me. It was very a learning experience to be in the role of guide, and not of participant, this time, and see how everyone interprets the invitations or how everyone tunes in the forest at different pace.
For this tea ceremony, I decided to pluck some nettleto brew some tea and used yellow maple leaves as decoration. According to Spafinder, “Nettle is rich in calcium, potassium, magnesium, vitamin C (10 times more than an apple), vitamin B complex, vitamin E, amino acids and beta-carotene (five times more than a carrot) to name only a few. It is alkalizing while supporting the immune system, the nervous system, bone stability, the metabolism and skin health. That translates into having more energy, mental acuity, disease resilience and radiant well-being. ”
The biggest reward was to listen (and learn from) the stories of the participants during the tea ceremony, to notice the nature through their senses. None of them have never done a forest bath before, and they thought it would be “more spiritual”, “too hippie”, “too glimmering”. At the end, to me personally, or via another person, or on the evaluation sheet, they told me that they know it’s all about “self-care”, staying in contact with yourself and stillness. I feel very blessed today.
Last year, during the autumn equinox, I decided to start this website and blog. It has been already one year that I posted my first blog: How the Search for Tree Spirits Started. I am starting now the third year of my PhD studies in environmental studies at Nagoya University in Japan and reflecting a bit what I learned in the last year, in Japan, but also during my two visits to Norway and Belgium. A bit more than one year ago, during a visit to my parents in Belgium, I learned about forest and nature therapy, about shin-rin yoku and felt this sudden click. This is it. Before my return to Japan, I visited London with a friend and also bought some books in Treadwell’s about sacred trees, tree alphabet and druids, which helped me to learn more about especially trees and the culture practices and relationship my ancestors had with them. In another bookstore in London, I found this amazing book “Around the World in 80 Trees“, in which expert Jonathan Drori uses plant science to illuminate how trees play a role in every part of human life, from the romantic to the regrettable. Packed with these books I returned to Japan around autumn equinox.
That lead to my first experiences with DIY Forest Therapy 森林浴, and 9 months later let me organise a group expedition to one of the Japanese certified forest therapy base camps, of which Forest Therapy Taking Root is a report.
As a sustainability scientist, I read everyday about evidence about social and environmental issues and the treats that are coming. I know some effects come with a delay and it makes me anxious to know that the “worst is yet to come”. Sometimes I am happy I do not have children (yet), because I know the future will be tough. It makes me depressed. I think that is one reason why I did not spend that much care to myself in the last year(s), as you could read in this blog: Fireworks, Bamboo and the Height of Japanese Summer
But in the end last summer, I decided to transform the challenges into opportunities, and look more in practices and ideas which are about healing the relationships in our ecosystems. Actually some ideas I already know, because I encountered many inspiring people and did a full course in permaculture some years ago, but it did not take root in me. I was writing already stories about dryads and collecting legends about tree spirits for already some years. I also wrote a blog about Thai legends about tree spirits: Why do Thai Tree Spirits like Red Fanta ?
But the ideas were just used for fiction, not in my real life. In the last year, I looked for a balance between spending time in ‘depressive’ science and ‘uplifting’ therapy; and it helped me to get more energy to do more in the first. I got more creative, and people are asking me the whole time how I get all the ideas. Actually, many sustainability scientists do not spend that much time in the environment, but stay in laboratoriums and offices in the city. It is a bit ironic, because by actually spending more time with nature, my love became even deeper and I got more motivated; understood more why I am studying and working in the sustainability field. Before, people spent more time in nature; there were also more festivities and holidays to celebrate this relationship (more holidays than Belgians have), and I believe it is good to spend time, to restore or strengthen this reciprocal relationship.
In the end of December I decided to visit an old friend in Norway. Since I was a child I am fascinated by the folklore and culture Norwegians have. In Belgium, a lot of indigenous knowledge is lost, partly because of the Inquisition of the Church in earlier centuries, but when you go more to the north in Europe, where the Inquisition has less influence, you find many practices. It was my second trip to Norway and I realised again how much I love this place. This trip taught me a lot, partly because my friend also was very happy to share stories, his insights about living in nature and teach me some skills (or let me remember old skills that my grandfather who lived in the Belgian countryside taught me once). I wrote also some blog about winter time in Norway: Norway Spruce, a story about Shaman Claus, mushrooms and fire. Our old friendship transformed into more.
I returned to Japan. Spring came. “Holly” Devil, it’s Spring again! My family came to visit me in Japan. I am halfway my Japan adventure. The cherry blossoms reminded me again how life is so fragile. One year earlier, I lost a very close friend. He was 25. That period, some friends asked me to also write a text about his loss and I let me inspire by the cherry blossoms.
I returned also to Norway for two weeks, when it was almost Norwegian Easter: time for ash and crime I was the guest of my boyfriend in his house. It was still winter, and I liked to work inside his house at writing an academic article, where I had no wifi, drinking hot tea and fuelling the stove with Norwegian Birch Bark. In his free time, he took me on road trips to remote places in nature and do little snow hikes with him.
However, the new semester was starting in Japan, and I had teaching assistant responsibilities. Also, two weeks after my return, an old friend from Belgium would arrive and we planned a trip of 6 days to Okinawa together. Okinawa: from its longevity secrets to mischievous tree trolls. After this trip, my relationship with my boyfriend ended, and we became back friends. It was difficult, but the best for us both. For instance, I learned actually that a long distance (and even intercontinental relationship with 7 or 8 hour time difference was not my cup of tea). I found healing by going hiking the lower mountains of Japan a lot. Also, our friendship was so strong that we were still communicating a lot, about Norway, Japan, and other things. He helped me to learn more about the sacred trees in the gardens of Norwegians and Swedish: Sacred “Garden” trees of Norway and Sweden I still believe he is a great, beautiful man, and am very grateful for all experiences we have, as friends and the short time also as boyfriend and girlfriend.
In June he came also to Japan, for 3 weeks, but as my bestie. First, I took him for a day hike to Nakansendo and realised that we do not always need ‘new’ spaces to experience something new: Nakansendo’s whispers – or different interpretations of Silence
We explored Hokkaido together, and because of him I was confident enough to climb my first Japan’s high mountain and go camping in a national park. After a steep descend on a snow slope (where I cursed a lot), I thanked him as he guided me through, but he said with a little smile: “Why do you thank me? You did it all yourself.” It was also interesting to talk with him about Hokkaido’s indigenous people and compare a bit with the Saami in Scandinavic countries: Birch cake and the colonization of Hokkaido’s nature and Ainu
At the summit of Hokkaido’s highest mountain and volcano (2291m).
He also joined the aforementioned expedition to the forest therapy base. During our travel in Japan we talked a lot about this split between nature and the rest, about how people try to control and make all nature accessible to everyone, but also making it too easy for people who do not have respect for their limits or that of nature. Forest therapy is a nice treatment, but it is pity that nature is not more part in the lives of city dwellers. In Meeting Japan’s curse spirits during a Forest Bath I shared some of these insights.
He left around summer solstice and we also decided to give each other more space. He was going to prepare to climb Mont Blanc and Matterhorn (spoiler: he succeeded). I needed to focus on writing a Flemish local science fiction roman, where rescued wood, maker’s culture, furniture and retrofitting old wooden houses were central. I draw a lot of inspiration from my own PhD, and all the interesting people I met in Japan, but also from my bestie. Sometimes I feel he became an important part of my life this year, because I had to remind again how valuable making things, being in nature is, and teach me some skills necessary for my comfort. Because of him, I read this book “Norwegian Wood” by Lars Mytting and got more inspiration for the project. This book project, together with my PhD, occupied my whole summer (and the launch is planned for November 23rd). But I also found time to experience and guide people in the forests and mountains. I find a lot of joy in forest therapy activities – which is also about pleasure and sensuality- while the raw therapy of the mountains confronted me with some fears and my own limits: Forests, Mountains and other therapists.
Early September, I left Japan for USA to start my training in forest and nature therapy. It was a great experience and when I am back from USA I will write about this. Now I am relaxing in the house of a Belgian friend in USA. In one week I will continue the travel to Belgium, for the book launch and some data collection for my PhD research, but also for meeting friends and family.
In the end of November I return to Japan, for the last 10 months. Expect in the coming months more blogs about USA and Belgium (I found out there is a forest in Belgium with wooden trolls which I will definitely visit and write an article about). I am also curious what I will learn, which new persons I will meet, or with which old friends I will get (re)connected and what I will learn from them.
But today, during this autumn equinox, I like focus on the now and be grateful for all the lessons and experiences, and also for all the blogs I could share in the last year with the readers of the Wood Wide Web Stories. Thank you for reading, re-blogging, commenting and sharing. Up to another year of blogging! Dankuwel :).
Several weeks ago I experienced a first forest bath in one of the 62 certified forest therapy bases in Japan. You can read and see photographs in this blog: Forest therapy Taking Root. What I did not mention, was that we were… not alone.
Hill Worms
Two days before, the facility staff of the center told us to wear long sleeves, long pants and long socks that can cover the bottoms of the pants … because there will be hill worms that suck blood. It sounds more horrible than it was. In the end, the stress hormones of most participants decreased, despite the presence of these animals. You could also see who were the city dwellers and who were more used to bugs. I also brought one of my best friends. He comes from another large forest civilization like Japan, but with a much lower population density. He was showing me as a happy child on discovery every time a worm on the top of his umbrella or shoe, while others around us were removing the worms of their shoes with sticks, as if it was a curse.
(c) Wendy Wuyts
Actually, later I realised; when I reflected more with my Norwegian friend and one of the two Japanese forest therapy guides; that the worms are actually a good departure point to talk about “human control of nature”.
Forest civilisations
For a Flemish person it is striking that Japan is a real forest civilization. Even though the Japanese are twelve times as many as the Belgians, the population density is about the same. However, our country is not even 20% forested, while Japan is two-thirds forested. It may be one of the most populous countries in the world, but Japan is also one of the greenest, with a great diversity of trees. One of my research projects also regularly takes me to the countryside north of Nagoya, where I learned more about the fragrant cypress trees and forest culture and management from local experts over the past year and a half. My own professor is also interested in a “lignification” of the Japanese cities. Environmental egineers here talk about carbon storage and absorption of young trees, about the effect of trees in cities on thermal comfort and the subjective perception of temperature, the regulation of water management, reducing risk for landslides and erosion and other things. Forests are so important, and although I focus here mostly on cultural values and effects on mental health, as an environmental scientist I can give so many reasons why it is also good for the planetary health (and also for us). Trees are also central to Shintoism, their indigenous religion, and you often see how much respect they have for all their nature.
(c) Wendy Wuyts
Since the 17th century there have been strict regulations on forestry and forest management. In the times of the samurai these were so strict that if you cut down certain trees in the Kiso valley (north of Nagoya) you even risked the death penalty. “A head for each felled tree, an arm for a broken branch,” that was the punishment. These trees were destined for the houses and temples of powerful families, or Buddha statues.
On the other hand, when I moved to Japan, I thought I would learn a lot about sustainable practices in environment, but how longer I am in Japan, how more confused I am. My Norwegian friend had also similar confused feelings as I had two years ago, and we found ourselves talking a lot about control of nature (and princess Mononoke).
Norwegian Outdoors vs Japanese forest bathing
In Norway it is quite normal to spend a lot of time in nature. My Norwegian friend explained to me that as early as the 19th century the urban working class in his country was encouraged to take the train to the woods every Sunday because, like the Japanese, they also had that intuitive knowledge that living in nature is good for you. But he was also a bit sceptical about all rules and procedures (for which Japanese are known) and did not like it that we were in a big group of more than 20. He is the kind of guy that enjoys the woods in silence, preferably alone. I have to agree that I also enjoy being in the forest on my own, or with people that make me feel comfortable. There is a poem of Mary Oliver which explains forest bathing how he and I enjoy it the most:
During his flight to Japan, an article in the Norwegian media about the trend of forest baths also caught his attention. The Norwegian journalist thought that forest baths meant “simply swimming in a lake”. After my explanation he already said that he already automatically takes forest bathes every week.
“But do you open all your five senses?” I asked him, because I knew from experience that he had a rather high walking pace, and when it comes to forest baths, it’s all about moving through a forest as slowly and consciously as possible.
“Yes, it’s normal for us to touch leaves, rest our backs against a tree, smell pine needles and so on… I just do not need rules like the Japanese do. ”
(c) Wendy Wuyts
Why especially City dwellers should take forest baths
He did admit that forest baths are effective for urban dwellers, and that the role of nature people like him and me is to get city dwellers into the wild every week. He is pleased that Japanese city dwellers travel to the forest every week, but he also shared reflections on nature conservation and how sorry he thought it was that many places were too easily accessible for many people. He noted that too many mountains in Japan had a cable car. That day, he and I had been traveling for two weeks and did a lot of hiking, trekking and camping; from Hokkaido’s national parks to Mt Fuji. Many times he had remarked how much Japanese try “to control the mountain to make it accessible for everyone”.
He understood that access to nature must be a human right. “But not all nature should be accessible for everyone, because some places are dangerous for people who think they can climb a mountain with sandals, or who don’t realize that they need a guide or know what should be in a day backpack. This results in blogs which say that for example Mt Fuji is tough. But Mt Fuji was not a difficult mountain at all. Now I understood they just were not in good shape and, or they did not bring the right gear, because they do not take the effort to get some outdoor skills and knowledge.”
We agreed that being nature is about understanding limits. Not only of ourselves, but also of nature. We have to respect that every place has a carrying capacity, and we have to not underestimate ourselves, especially in nature.
(c) Wendy Wuyts
Princess Mononoke
Nowadays, these worms are there almost whole year, one of the forest therapy guides told us. During the allocation of this forest therapy base, these worms were not there, but then this was also a godforsaken place. Now animals from higher up bring these leeches when to go down; to this place in search of food, because man has reduced their territory. “There is a reason why Ghibli Studio choose these worms for princess Mononoke. It are always animals from higher up, from more remote areas, losing territory, that bring this curse to the human world.”
For those who have seen the popular animated film “Princess Mononoke”, recognizes that animals also came from the mountains and were possessed by these demonic worms squirming over their whole body. In this movie, the toxic used by some colonising humans causes the curse. In the beginning of the movie, one of the main characters get infected by this curse when he protects his village against a possessed animal. The movie is about his search to find a cure, but in the meantime he also learns more about forest spirits, wolves and the impact of the colonisation of nature.
Screenshot of the animation movie “princess Mononoke”
This animation movie inspired me so many years ago to visit Japan, and stay there for some time, to reflect about the relationship between nature and culture, the impact of civil and environmental engineering. For me, I got maybe too excited about these worms, or curse spirits, but partly because it closes a circle for me.
I met the worms. I saw in the past two years very confusing images of infrastructure that let me wonder… why do we keep building (especially in a country which society is shrinking?). I know jobs have to be created, that accessibility is a human right … but sometimes it is good to rest.
I returned to Japan. Spring came. 
However, the new semester was starting in Japan, and I had teaching assistant responsibilities. Also, two weeks after my return, an old friend from Belgium would arrive and we planned a trip of 6 days to Okinawa together. 
