My name is Aya, and I live in a small village by the sea in a place you might call Japan. I don’t know how old I am, but my mother says I’m old enough to help with important tasks. Our village is surrounded by tall trees and green hills, and the sea is always close, singing its waves against the rocks. The air smells of salt and pine. Life here is hard sometimes, but it’s also beautiful. Let me tell you about my world, long before cities or writing existed.
Our people are called Jomon, named after the patterns on our clay pots. I don’t know why we make those patterns, but my mother says they bring good luck. Our village has about 20 families, and we live in houses made of wood and straw. The houses are round, with a hole in the roof to let smoke out from the fire inside. The floor is dug into the ground, so it’s cool in summer and warm in winter. My family—my mother, father, little brother Taro, and I—sleeps on mats near the fire. At night, the fire’s light dances on the walls, and I feel safe.
Every day starts early. When the sun rises, the birds sing, and I wake up to the sound of my mother grinding nuts. She uses a big stone to crush acorns into flour. Acorns are bitter, so we soak them in the river first to make them taste better. I help her carry water from the stream nearby. The water is cold, and sometimes I see small fish swimming. Taro tries to catch them with his hands, but he’s too slow. He laughs and splashes me, and I splash him back.
After breakfast, we all have work to do. My father and the other men go into the forest to hunt or fish. They use bows and arrows for deer or boars, and nets for fish in the sea. Sometimes, they come back with a big catch, and we all eat well. Other times, they return with nothing, and we eat nuts, roots, or dried fish from our storage pits. My father taught me how to make arrowheads from sharp stones. I’m not very good yet, but he says I’m learning fast.
My mother and the other women gather food in the forest. I go with them, carrying a basket. We collect berries, mushrooms, and wild plants. My favorite is the sweet red berries that grow near the river. Once, I ate too many, and my stomach hurt. My mother laughed and said, “Aya, you must share with the forest spirits!” She says the spirits live in the trees and rivers, and we must respect them. I don’t see them, but I leave a few berries on the ground, just in case.
One of my jobs is to help make clay pots. The women in our village are very good at this. We dig clay from the riverbank and mix it with water. Then, we shape it into pots or bowls. I like pressing rope patterns into the wet clay—it’s why our pots are called Jomon, or “cord-marked.” After shaping, we let the pots dry in the sun, then bake them in a fire. Last week, I made a small bowl. It’s not perfect, but my mother says it’s beautiful. We use the pots to cook, store food, or carry water.
Life isn’t just work. We have fun, too. In the evenings, we sit around the fire and tell stories. My favorite is about a giant fish that lives in the sea. The elders say it’s so big it can swallow a boat. Taro is scared of that story, but I think it’s exciting. Sometimes, we sing songs or dance. The adults play drums made of animal skin, and I clap my hands to the rhythm. When the moon is full, we have a big feast. We eat roasted fish, nut bread, and berries, and everyone laughs and talks until late.
Our village has special places, too. Near the forest, there’s a circle of big stones. The elders say it’s a place to talk to the spirits. When someone is sick or a baby is born, we go there and leave offerings, like shells or clay figures. Last month, my friend Hana’s mother had a baby. We made a small clay figure of a woman and placed it in the stone circle. Hana says the spirits will protect her new sister. I hope it’s true.
The seasons change our life a lot. In spring, the forest is green, and we find many plants to eat. In summer, the sea is warm, and we swim and collect shellfish. Autumn is busy because we gather nuts and dry fish for winter. Winter is the hardest. It’s cold, and snow covers the ground. We stay inside, close to the fire, and eat the food we saved. Sometimes, we run out of food, and my stomach feels empty. But my father says, “The sun will return, and the forest will give again.”
We also make tools and clothes. My mother teaches me to weave baskets from reeds. We use them to carry food or store things. For clothes, we wear animal skins or woven plant fibers. In winter, I wear a deer-skin cloak that my father made. It’s warm, but it smells a little strange. I’m learning to sew with a bone needle, but it’s hard. Last time, I pricked my finger, and it hurt for days.
Sometimes, life is scary. Wild animals live in the forest, like bears or wolves. Once, a bear came near our village. The men chased it away with fire and loud noises, but I was afraid. The sea can be dangerous, too. Last year, a big storm came, and the waves destroyed some of our boats. We worked together to rebuild them. My mother says, “When we help each other, we are strong.”
I love my village, but I wonder about the world beyond it. My father says there are other villages far away, across the hills or along the coast. Sometimes, people from other villages visit. They bring things like obsidian stones, which are black and shiny, or beautiful shells. We trade our pots or dried fish for them. Last time, I got a shell necklace from a girl my age. She didn’t speak our words, but we smiled and played together. I hope she visits again.
Our life is tied to the land and sea. We don’t have machines or big houses like people in your time, but we have what we need. The forest gives us food and wood. The sea gives us fish and shells. The spirits watch over us, or so the elders say. I’m happy here, even when life is hard. I like running through the forest with Taro, making pots with my mother, or listening to my father’s stories by the fire.
One night, I looked at the stars above our village. They were so bright, like tiny fires in the sky. I wondered if the spirits live there, watching us. My mother saw me and said, “Aya, the stars are our ancestors. They guide us.” I don’t know if that’s true, but it makes me feel warm inside. I want to grow strong, like my mother, and brave, like my father. I want to make beautiful pots and take care of Taro. This is my world, and I’m proud to be part of it.