■1｜Declaration Founder: Haruo Nishio
” Not a Hotel. A Civilization in Human Scale.”
This is not a tourist destination.
This is a place that stands on the extension of a way of life that has continued for centuries.
We do not simply offer accommodation.
We open, for a moment, a way of living.
This place invites people to rediscover slow living through traditional Japanese houses and the rhythm of village life.
■2｜Beginning
In 2011, we opened our own home and began “Miyama FUTON & Breakfast.”
But in truth, we did not set out to start a lodging business.
We were searching for a way to protect the thatched houses that were disappearing.
Haruo Nishio has been working as a thatcher since 1994.
At that time, requests for rethatching were declining,
while consultations saying, “We can no longer maintain this house,” were increasing.
There were houses we wanted to protect.
But there was no system to sustain them.
So we decided to rent the houses to one group per day
and use the income to fund their maintenance.
We simply wanted to preserve the beauty of thatched landscapes and the life within them.
■ 3｜Change
It became the first traditional kominka house in Miyama to operate as a private stay.
Gradually, others with similar intentions followed.
Today, around thirty private kominka stays exist in Miyama.
Houses that would have been demolished remain standing.
More people have moved into the town.
It is not a dramatic success story.
But the houses survived.
For us, that is enough.
■4｜Philosophy
Miyama is home to approximately 500 thatched-roof houses.
However, about 95% of them are now covered with metal sheets.
Most houses are nearly the same size.
This reflects a long-held belief: that everyone should prosper together, equally.
Many homes have no fences.
The boundary between private and public space is gentle.
There is an underlying sense that what nature provides is shared — common.
Even today, Miyama consists of 52 small villages,
each maintaining its own local autonomy and quiet independence.
Thatched houses are not museum pieces.
We do not preserve them by freezing them in time.
We preserve them by continuing to use them.
The act of staying itself
becomes a way of carrying culture into the future.
■5｜People
The heart of this operation is my wife, Yoshiko.
Cleaning and reception are supported by women from the local community.
Their careful hands maintain the atmosphere of each house.
Our son, Toranosuke, has returned from working in the hotel industry
to help continue the family work here.
This is not sustained by investors.
It is sustained by the people who live on this land.
■6｜Future
We do not want the way of living in harmony with nature —
a way Japan has quietly practiced for centuries —
to disappear.
We do not want thatched houses to remain as fixed heritage.
We want them to remain as homes that are used daily.
We do not want Miyama to be consumed as a tourist site.
We hope it will remain a place where people stay, engage, and understand.
By operating these houses, we aim to create local work
so that the next generation may have the option to continue living here.
We hope that Miyama’s time, landscapes, and wisdom
will circulate quietly into the future.
■7｜Slow Living and Craft Civilization
If something in this speaks to you,
you are welcome.
This is not simply a stay.
It is a moment inside a living civilization.
You bring your presence.
The village offers its time.
Through that exchange,
both may become slightly richer.
■8｜The Practice of Japanese Hospitality
The idea of travelers staying in a village is not new.
In earlier times, Japanese villages naturally welcomed those who arrived from afar.
Food was shared, a place to sleep was offered, and stories were exchanged.
Villagers could not easily leave their land, as they were responsible for protecting their fields and livestock,
yet through travelers they learned about distant regions and unfamiliar cultures.
There was no hierarchy — no giver above, no receiver below.
Only people meeting people.
What we aim to practice today is this traditional Japanese form of hospitality.
We do not treat guests as royalty, nor do we see them as customers to be satisfied.
A visitor brings new presence and perspective to the village, while the village offers its accumulated time, landscape, and way of living.
Hospitality, for us, is an exchange — a quiet reciprocity.
Today, Miyama faces rapid aging and a population decrease of around one hundred people each year.
Even if houses remain, without people, life cannot continue.
That is why staying here must mean more than sleeping under a roof.
Through encounters — however small — people influence one another.
Our houses are not simply accommodations.
We hope they may serve as small but meaningful points of connection,
linking the village and the outside world, the present and the future.
This philosophy grows from craftsmanship and a human scale society shaped by traditional Japanese houses and rural culture.