Depopulation threatens Japan's countryside

Japan's population is facing serious challenges, where low birth rates and a rapidly aging population has caused towns and villages to shrink. In a village deep in the mountains of southern Japan, one woman is crafting doll-like scarecrows to help fill the days, and perhaps the void of a community that once was. You could almost hear the lively chatter of two neighbours. Or see the smoke as a farmer puffs his cigarette. Nearby, a family waits in line at an imaginary bus stop - a grandfather, holding a toddler. These are all scarecrows. More than 100 of them are scattered across a village that is now mostly abandoned. With only 35 residents, hardly anyone can be seen on the one-street village. Nagoro, like thousands of other towns and villages in Japan, is faced with serious depopulation, marred by falling birth rates and rapid aging. For Tsukimi Ayano, the scarecrows offer company in a town where many neighbours have left, or died. Each scarecrow is handcrafted. She starts by stitching the face - the eyes, nose, eyebrows and ears. Then comes the body, filled with newspaper, donning second-hand clothes donated from people around the country. At 65, she is one of the younger residents of Nagoro, having moved back from the city of Osaka to look after her father. When Ayano returned to her hometown 13 years ago, she first tried farming. Thinking her radish seeds may have been eaten by crows, she decided to make some scarecrows. The first scarecrow was modelled on her mother who had passed away. Then she began making others, neighbours or even visitors, putting them in her house, on her porch, and eventually spilling out around the entire village. Ayano says she always brings one or more scarecrows for company on her 90-minute drives to buy groceries in the nearest big town. It helps to have one around, she says, especially when driving along the winding mountain roads at night, alone. "When you have a scarecrow with you, you're not lonely anymore, even though it's just a doll. It's mysterious." The scarecrows - which now outnumber residents three-to-one, have become a tourist attraction, with a steady stream of visitors making detours along the mountain road. But that isn't enough to help Nagoro's shrinking population. The plight of Japan's countryside is largely a consequence of its economic success. As the nation grew increasingly affluent after World War II, the young flooded into the cities to fill jobs in factories and service industries. The elderly are left alone to tend small farms. "This isn't a place where young people would come back to and work. So it seems like the population will continue to fall" Ayano says. And for her, making scarecrows seems to be the only immediate solution. "I'll continue to make scarecrows as long as I'm healthy. So I suppose the number of scarecrows will keep growing." The closing of the local elementary school was the last straw. Two years ago its last two students left for junior high school in a town 20 minutes down the road. Ayano unlocks the door and guides visitors through spotless classrooms populated with scarecrow students and teachers. First the jobs go. Then the schools. Eventually, the electricity meters stop. It's an end game many societies soon may face as their own populations shrink, raising questions about how to chart a course for growth. Japan's population began to decline in 2010 from a peak of 128 million, it now has one of the lowest birth rates in the world, at 1.43 children per mother. Without a drastic increase in birthrate, or a loosening of the nation's immigration policies, the population is forecast to fall to about 108 million by 2050, and to 87 million by 2060. By then, four in 10 Japanese will be over 65 years old. You can license this story through AP Archive: http://www.aparchive.com/metadata/youtube/04fddd09e44c4c5c21f349acad7b353d Find out more about AP Archive: http://www.aparchive.com/HowWeWork