Traditions frozen in time

It takes a special person to live in a frigid, historic 'gassho' house. A shivering Julie Miller can only agree.

Some things go out of style for a reason. In the case of the "gassho" houses of central Japan, practicality has mostly won out over tradition - and even those who live in the few remaining examples aren't surprised.

"It takes a special person to live in a gassho house," we are told as we sit shivering around a roaring but seemingly useless fire inside one of the massive, thatched, five-storey houses scattered throughout Shirakawa-go, a village in Gifu prefecture. "The cold makes you stronger."

Considering my feet are frozen, ears numb and my breath a smokestack, I am dubious about the strength-giving qualities of such extreme conditions. The resident, however, is speaking with genuine pride - he considers it an honour to dwell in this historic museum house, despite the cost on health and pocket.

One can only wonder why these 400-year-old houses were built in the first place. "Gassho-style houses have three enemies," we are told. "Dilapidation, fire and snow." All three seem unavoidable hazards here in the mountains; they are buried under three-metre snow drifts for at least six months of the year; they require an indoor fire 24-7 for heating; while age, weather and the sheer scale of the buildings demand constant maintenance.

With about 114 examples of these amazing structures still standing, Shirakawa-go is a time capsule recognised by UNESCO, which granted the town World Heritage listing in 1995. Today, it is popular with tourists who come to admire the quaint, pretty setting and wander through several buildings open to the public to learn about traditions of the past.

"Gassho" is the Japanese word for prayer and the buildings were so named because the roofs resemble hands pressed together in worship. The sheer size of the thatched slopes is difficult to comprehend - though archival photos showing at least 60 villagers working together over four consecutive days to re-thatch during spring give some perspective of the massive undertaking.

Our visit, however, coincides with deepest winter; the roofs are encrusted with a metre of snow, sculptural drifts burying entranceways up to first-storey windows. In keeping with Japanese tradition, we replace our boots with indoor slippers as we enter the Myozenji Museum, an artefacts museum and living quarters for staff from the adjoining temple. Immediately, my toes turn to ice; despite a fire constantly sending heat through the slatted floors, the energy transfer is astoundingly inefficient, with temperatures at least 5 degrees colder than outside.

As well as allegedly "heating" the houses, the massive fireplace serves another purpose: the smoke blackens the wood and makes the thatch more durable. What it has done to the lungs of residents over the years is questionable, of course.