One of the books I came to Japan with was Old Kyoto by Diane Durston. This was my bible in the early days, not only a guide, but a valuable reference. In it she mentions a broom shop called Naito on Sanjo-dori near the bridge. I remember thinking how charming but also how odd - a broom shop. If there were ever broom shops in the States they went out of business long ago.
A broom is something I had never given much thought to before coming to Japan. It was something you bought at a hardware store. A banal, utilitarian implement, it lived in the garage next to the rake and the shovel. In Japan a houki (broom) is something more mythical and sacred. Brooms are mentioned in the "Kojiki" (Record of Ancient Matters) written in the early 8th century, and have long been associated with sweeping away bad luck. Indeed, sweeping is a regular and also virtuous chore of Zen Buddhist monks and a frequent metaphor in parables.
Brooms in Japan are traditionally made from great millet because the natural oils in this annual grass serve to polish tatami mat floors. The weaving techniques of broom craftsmen are unchanged in a thousand years.
When my cheap, made-in-China broom from the Hyaku En Shoppu (99-cent store) needed replacing I decided I would purchase a real broom. Naito brooms, I discovered, are rather expensive, but I found an attractive, reasonably priced broom elsewhere made by a company called Azuma.
Azuma is not as old or as quaint as Naito (it is actually a large, not-so-interesting nationwide cleaning supply company) but it has been making handsome brooms since 1941. Their brooms are all hand-made and the company has even launched a program to preserve the tradition of broom making by cultivating the grass themselves.
The Japanese have a way of making the most mundane objects beautiful, of elevating everything to an art form. Even an ordinary broom becomes an object of great beauty here, something I would not be embarrassed to give or receive as a present.
