Uchiwa — A breeze you fan yourself
Pata, pata—with a flick of the wrist, I fan my face with an uchiwa. The lukewarm air moves, turns into a breeze, and brushes against my sweaty face. It is different from the mechanical wind of an electric fan. The breeze from an uchiwa becomes wind directly through the movement of my own hand. Fan strongly, and you get a strong breeze. Fan slowly, and you get a gentle breeze. This feeling of creating the wind myself is the best part of an uchiwa.
When summer comes, uchiwa are placed here and there around the house. Ones received at festivals with company names on them. Ones bought while traveling with pictures on them. None of them are anything special. But when it is hot, I find myself picking one up and fanning. That casualness is the true merit of an uchiwa.
■ No electricity needed
The most admirable thing about an uchiwa is that it requires absolutely no electricity. No outlets, no batteries. You just fan with your hand. That alone creates a breeze. Even during a power outage, an uchiwa works. This primitive sense of unreliability is, conversely, quite dependable.
Admittedly, it is quite tiring to keep fanning with an uchiwa. After fanning for a while, your arm starts to feel heavy. With an electric fan, you can get a constant breeze with just the flip of a switch. With an uchiwa, if you stop moving, the wind stops too. This feeling that labor and coolness are directly linked—you are as cool as you fan—makes it a truly honest tool.
■ One for after a bath
Perhaps an uchiwa is most useful after a bath. I fan my flushed, post-bath body while sitting on the veranda or by the window. Pata, pata. The heat slowly fades away. When the breeze from the uchiwa hits my still-sweaty skin, it feels absolutely wonderful.
This time spent cooling down after a bath while fanning with an uchiwa. Perhaps while drinking something cold. Or while watching TV. Or maybe just zoning out. It is a simple, unremarkable moment, but it is a nice way to catch one's breath at the end of a summer day.
■ Fanning someone else
An uchiwa has one more good quality: you can use it to fan someone else. When I fan a family member who is feeling the heat, and they say, "Ah, that feels good," I feel happy too. An electric fan is something you point at yourself, but an uchiwa can be pointed at others.
The breeze you fan yourself is for your own sake. But if you point the uchiwa at someone else, that breeze becomes a breeze for them. Being able to send this small act of thoughtfulness on the wind is something unique to the uchiwa. Pata, pata. Today, too, I am stirring the lukewarm summer air with an uchiwa.
(*Individual experiences of coolness and comfort may vary. This text is just one example. During hot periods, please do not rely solely on an uchiwa; be sure to take care to prevent heatstroke by staying hydrated, replenishing salt, and using air conditioning.)
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[English] An uchiwa — a wind you fan yourself.
Pata, pata — turning your wrist, you fan your face with the uchiwa (a flat round fan). The lukewarm air still moves, becomes a wind, and strokes your sweaty face; unlike a fan's mechanical wind, an uchiwa's wind is your own hand's motion turned straight into wind — fan hard, a strong wind; fan slow, a soft one, and that feel of making the wind yourself is the good of it. Come summer, uchiwa sit here and there about the house — one got at a festival with a company name on it, one bought on a trip with a picture — none of them anything much; but when it's hot you pick one up and fan, and that ease is its whole nature.
The finest thing about an uchiwa is that it needs no electricity at all — no outlet, no battery, just fan with your hand and a wind is born; even in a blackout, it works, and that primitive unreliability is, conversely, reassuring. Then again, fanning on and on is fairly tiring — fan a while and your arm goes weary, whereas a fan gives wind forever at the flip of a switch; with an uchiwa, stop moving and the wind stops there — that feel of labor and coolness directly linked, cool in proportion to how much you fan, an honest tool indeed.
Where an uchiwa shines most may be after a bath: fanning your heated, just-bathed body at the veranda or window, pata pata, the flush slowly receding, the uchiwa's wind on still-sweaty skin feeling wonderful — that time of cooling down after a bath, fanning, a cold drink in hand, watching TV, or just spacing out; nothing much, but a fine breath at a summer day's end. An uchiwa has one more good point: you can fan someone else. Fan a family member who's hot, and hear "ah, that feels good," and somehow you're glad too; a fan is aimed at yourself, but an uchiwa can be aimed at others. The wind you fan yourself is for you — but aim the uchiwa at someone, and that wind becomes a wind for them; that you can send a small kindness on the wind is an uchiwa's own thing. Pata, pata — today too, I stir the lukewarm summer air with an uchiwa. (How cool or comfortable you feel varies by person; this is our one example. In hot spells don't rely on an uchiwa alone — take water and salt, use AC, and guard against heatstroke.)