This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Rei Onoda, 34, coowner of Kamijyoan, a bakery in rural Japan. Her words have been edited for length and clarity.
After graduating from university, I moved to Dubai and worked as a cabin crew member for Emirates for about four years.
I got to travel all over the world. Seeing so many places made me realize Japan was actually my favorite. Being away made me appreciate how unique it is.
I was also in a long-distance relationship at the time. After we got married, I moved back and decided to change jobs. I wanted a new challenge and to use my English skills in a different way.
A shift back to Japan
I joined a PR agency in Tokyo and worked on media tours across Japan, bringing people from overseas not just to big cities but also to local areas.
That’s when I realized how many beautiful areas in Japan I didn’t even know about. I started thinking about living somewhere more rural.
When COVID-19 started, my job became fully remote.
I lived near Shibuya Station, a crowded part of Tokyo, but everything was closed, and I was stuck at home paying high rent.
Discovering rural life
My husband and I started talking about moving to a quieter place. We had always imagined doing that later in life, but we thought: Why not now?
His hometown is about an hour and a half from Tokyo, so we began looking for a house nearby, expecting it to be a temporary move.
We weren’t planning to open a bakery — just to find a place to live. After about two years of searching, we bought a 180-year-old house in Kamijo Village, about 140 miles northwest of Tokyo, for 8,500,000 Japanese yen, or about $50,000. The purchase included 6 acres of farmland.
The house had been empty for about 10 years and wasn’t livable without major renovation. Because farmland is strictly regulated in Japan, my husband — who had been working in fashion retail — agreed to become a registered farmer to manage the land.
We found that to renovate the property as a home, we would have to follow strict preservation rules. That would have been too expensive, so we started thinking: Instead of living there, maybe we could open a small café and share the space with others.
That was the starting point of our bakery.
It wasn’t as simple as we thought
Because the house is in a preservation district, we needed approval from the city, the prefecture, and the national government. The entire project, including renovation, took about three years.
We funded it through savings, bank loans, and grants, spending about 50 million Japanese yen, including kitchen equipment. We also had to preserve the building’s historical value while making it safe, working with architects and Japan’s Agency for Cultural Affairs.
We received 29 million Japanese yen in grants for regional development and cultural preservation by positioning the project as both a café and a means to preserve a historic property.
Building relationships with the local community was challenging
Kamijo Village is very small, and many residents have lived there for generations. When we bought the house, we went door-to-door to introduce ourselves.
Even while still living in Tokyo, we visited often, joined local events, and helped with community activities. Eventually, we moved there before the project was finished.
It wasn’t easy to be accepted as newcomers, but by showing up consistently, we slowly built trust.
During those three years, there was also a lot of waiting
I didn’t want to waste that time, so I went to baking school in Tokyo and trained with a baker who had worked in Germany.
I was also pregnant at the time. It wasn’t as difficult to juggle as I’d expected — most of my work was paperwork, like applications and funding preparation, which I could do from home. I was excited about both the construction and becoming a mother.
Now, I’m in charge of the bakery, and my husband handles the coffee.
We opened about a year and a half ago. At first, most customers were local. After about 6 months, more tourists started coming, finding out about us through Instagram and Google Maps.
On a typical day, I bake a handful of loaves — country-style, sandwich bread, and rye — and prepare cakes and cookies at the start of each week. We usually see around 15 groups on weekdays and closer to 25 on weekends.
Balancing the bakery and motherhood has been challenging.
At the same time, I learned to rely on others. With support from my husband’s parents and daycare, I began to understand the importance of asking for help.
It was not something I was good at before, but I now feel that being able to ask for help is essential — not only for raising a child, but also for running a business.
We moved into a house near the bakery. This part of Japan is known for growing fruits and wine. We’ve started making a craft peach beer using local fruit.
I still use what I learned as a cabin crew member
Being a cabin crew member taught me how to work efficiently in a small space and think about the customer experience. I use those skills in my bakery every day.
If I give advice to someone who wants to do something similar, it’s important to clearly explain why you’re doing it and what value it has.
Starting a business in a rural area takes more time than you expect. But that time wasn’t wasted — it became the foundation.
This bakery exists because of the support we received from the local community. I hope that as my son grows up, he’ll see that and understand the value of building something with others and not giving up on what you believe in.
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