"...away from their home environment, plain people are often mistaken for nuns or priests and vice versa.  One group of plain girls from Pennsylvania took the train to visit friends in Iowa.  Since there was a long layover in Chicago, they decided to take a taxi to see some of the sights.  The taxi driver, thinking they might be nuns, asked, "Are you sisters?"  One of the girls misunderstood the nature of the question, [and] replied, "No, but some of us are cousins."

Check out Faux Farm Girl's story behind this 'Amish Version of Car Trouble'.

When outsiders join, or attempt to join, the Amish church, issues may arise that polarize the group.  This occurred when a Detroit working-man was overjoyed in his discovery of the Amish people.  While in a state of uncertainty about the adequacy of his religion, he read a newspaper account of Amish in Kansas who had sold their farms and moved away because oil was discovered on them.  Maniaci concluded that "either therse people were fools or their religion was real," and in hopes that it was "real," he wrote to one of the Amish farmers asking how he could join their group.  He was referred to an Amish family in his own state of Michigan.  But the Amish had no precedent for taking in outsiders and referred Maniaci and his family to a small Mennonite mission in Detroit, which they joined.  Still aware that it was the Amish who had won him to Christ, Maniaci began to arouse the Amish to do missionary work.  The Amish expression of the Christan life, he felt with deep sincertiy, should be proclaimed far and wide.  He began publishing an evangelistic news sheet, Amish Mission Endeavor, and to all Amish ordained persons sent specially prepared letters in which he said:  "My only interest is to see the Amish Church on fire for the Gospel.  What about the debt that you as a leader owe to the unsaved?  There are many young people in your church who are willing to launch out...Will you lead them or will you cause them to join other churches?"  Maniaci's efforts brought some results, and he succeeded in forming a "mission-minded" group in several states.  The first of several Amish mission conferences was held in Kalona, Iowa, in 1950.  Amish persons attended against the advice of their bishops.

Hostetler continues:

Maniaci was considered a dangerous innovator by Amish leaders.  After all, he could not speak the language of the Amish and was regarded by them as an intruder.  To offset this criticism from the leaders, his Amish sympathizers conducted the annual missionary conferences in German.  Maniaci concluded that "they did not like an outsider running their affairs."  Nevertheless, with his pointed, mimeographed messages, he had helped to form a special interest group within Amish society and had put like-minded persons into communication with one another.

Amish are occasionally criticized for having an overly inward-looking focus.  Amish tend to concentrate religious energies on their own, rather than seeking out new converts.  Operating in a spirit of humility, Amish choose quiet witness over brash proclamation.  Perhaps some of the inward focus also comes out of apprehension of cases like Maniaci's.  Being Amish is not predicated on being raised within Amish culture, but as Amish themselves say, it certainly helps.  The skill sets are present and sense of identity ingrained for a person raised Amish, enabling him to more easily adapt to adult member life, much more so than for someone coming from a 'modern' orientation. 

At the same time, while evangelism is largely off the table, there has been some interest among Amish in mission-oriented work, seen today in the support of some Amish for the activities of organizations such as the Mennonite Central Committee.  As Steven Nolt adds in A History of the Amish on the Maniaci case, though Amish attempted to separate themselves from Maniaci's mission movement, at the time there was a clear interest in church activity that "worked outside traditional church structures."  The result was the formation of a Mission Interests Committee which worked to orchestrate out-of-community work projects.  Nolt points out that Amish mission supporters of the time often eventually went the way of full-scale shifts to Beachy Amish or Mennonite congregations, sometimes under the justification of the necessity of cars or college ministerial-prep study to being effective in mission activity.  Nolt writes on the mission movement:

For Old Orders, it confirmed a suspicion that agtiating for reform in one aspect of church life probably was linked to a wholesale embrace of modernity.  Even the innocent interests of mission-movement supporters quickly produced automobile ownership and higher education.  As a result, many Old Orders became more wary of outside religious influences that promised to solve Amish problems with new spiritual insights.

Auctions are popular among Amish.  Lancaster County holds a medical benefit auction each year to support the work of Holmes Morton at The Clinic for Special Children.  Haiti sales occur in Ohio, Pennsylvania, Indiana and Illinois to benefit the impoverished island nation.  Amish schools often hold small auctions to help raise operating funds.  And then there are the famous mud sales.

Rick reports that pipes are popular in this community, and true to form, "at least 95% of the men wore light blue shirts."

Also, Rick says that "unlike Lancaster, there were no cornerball, volleyball, or football games."  New Wilmington is one of the more conservative Amish communities, which in practice can mean more tobacco and less sports.

With a majority of household heads traditionally working in non-Amish RV factories, Amish in Elkhart/Lagrange Counties and around the town of Nappanee have been more exposed to the 'world' than in settlements with most Amish working the fields or holed up in Amish-owned shops.   Many have gotten used to taking home paychecks in the range of $1000-$1200/week or more.  Coupled with a low-overhead traditional lifestyle this means a large disposable income.  Northern Indiana is also among the most notorious when it comes to youth Rumspringa activity, perhaps a result of being tied more closely with the world through the RV industry. 

An article in the Indianapolis Star, which does a nice job reviewing a local economic slowdown that has existed for most of the past year and arguably a good bit longer, describes Amish struggles with being laid off and searching for new forms of employment. 

The article outlines the lifestyle impact on the Amish, describing one Amishman as previously 'living large', with weekly restaurant trips as well as out-of-state vacations.  Though I'd take issue with the assertion in the piece that "travel to the Grand Canyon and California by airplane and in rented vans with professional drivers was common"--with the airplane bit of it, especially--a lifestyle like the one ascribed to this Amishman is/was not uncommon.  Getting laid off has meant a change of habits and has also forced many to be creative in developing new streams of income. 

This has meant a move into business for some.  In a previous post on the Northern Indiana Amish I speculated on the possible shift into business in this settlement, a phenomenon which has occurred on a large scale in similar-sized settlements such as Holmes County and Lancaster but which has largely passed the northern Indiana Amish by, mainly due to the ready availability of employment in factories.  Anecdotal information seems to indicate that entrepreneurship has begun to blossom, though a bounceback in the RV industry may smother that in time. 

As Goshen College professor Steven Nolt notes in the article, “nowhere in U.S. Amish history has a down economy affected the Amish so much," calling the current period "a pivotal time."  The impact of the RV downturn on these Amish will be interesting to follow.   

The Amish are quite well-known in Japan, with perhaps more books on the Amish having been translated into Japanese than into any other language.  David Luthy notes that over two dozen books have been written on the Amish in Japanese or translated from English, including a cookbook from Montana Amish as well as Japanese- and American-authored sociological studies.  In an article in Family Life from 1997, Luthy describes the "Anna Miller's Pie Shop" chain in Tokyo, selling Dutch apple, coconut and pecan pies at its thirteen locations.  Another Japanese chain, Flavor, also supplies Dutch-style treats in its 25 stores.

In the preface for Japanese readers in the Japanese version of his book The Amish of Lancaster County, Kraybill writes that "Japanese interest in the Amish began about 1972 with the Japan Times covering the United States Supreme Court decision (Wisconsin v. Yoder) that permitted the Amish to stop formal education at the end of 8th grade.  The first book published about the Amish in Japanese was likely Professor Nobuo Sakai’s The Culture and Society of the Amish in 1973.  The American film Witness that featured the Amish stirred public curiosity in the Amish in Japan and around the world."

Front, L to R Prof. Chiho Oyabu (Gifu University) who developed the Amish exhibit at the Art Museum and arranged Prof. Kraybill’s trip; Prof. Kraybill; Back L to R:  Yachiho Shiba, director of the Shibunkaku Art Museum in Kyoto; Yuji Iwata, owner of Flavor, a Japanese bakery that features Amish pastries.

Why are the Amish big in Japan?  David Luthy writes that "they admire the Amish for living apart from mainstream society and refusing to jump into the American cultural melting pot.  They could imagine the Amish existing in some less developed country in South America, but they are intrigued that it is possible in the United States."

At first glance, the two societies, hemispheres apart, seem anything but alike.  Though deep cultural differences exist, numerous parallels may be drawn between Japanese society and that of the Amish.  Luthy notes, for instance, the low crime rate of the Japanese, seeing parallels to Amish peacefulness.

Tokyo photo: seedforum.org

Retired Elizabethtown College history professor Richard Mumford, in an unpublished 1993 paper entitled "The Japanese and the Amish:  Opposite Roots, Similar Values", delves deeper into the numerous similarities between the two tradition-reverent cultures.

Mumford explains that

the Japanese consider themselves a unique nation with habits and traditions different from those of other people.  They are reluctant to accept blood from non Japanese; because Japanese blood might not be compatible.  The Japanese have a unique language only distantly related to any other.  The Amish have their "Dutch."  The Japanese have a unique faith--Shintoism--one that is open only to those who choose to be "part of the community."  The Japanese in many ways are "in the world but not of the world" as the Amish would say.  Note the difficulties the Japanese experience in understanding and cooperating in areas of diplomacy and trade.  To the Japanese, foreigners, including Americans who visit Japan to study or work, are called Gaijin, "outsiders or aliens," those not part of the group.11  The Amish of course, have their "English."13  Yet both groups treat outsiders with courtesy, respect, and hospitality.  When the Japanese travel they seek out other Japanese.  In New York City there are dozens of Japanese restaurants, several Japanese golf courses, night clubs, schools, a Japanese hotel and a Japanese television station.  The Amish travel primarily to visit other Amish, those of the faith community.  

Indiana Amish photo: Cindy Seigle

Japanese emphasize community, submission to authority, and order, as do the Amish.  Crime is nearly foreign to Japanese streets, as it is to Amish society.  Though mainly living in cities, Mumford describes Tokyo as "a city of villages", noting the predominance of cohesive local units that cooperate on community projects, festivals, and ceremonies.  Japanese retain ties to ancestral fishing villages and city dwellers "can name the village in which their ancestors farmed," with many often still having relatives in that place.  Amish, with Martyrs Mirrors and family genealogies resting on living-room bookshelves, are conscious of history and ancestry, often able to trace bloodlines back to 18th-century immigrant forefathers or beyond. 

All hail the 'Arumaiti'

Mumford makes another interesting comparison on the role of women:  

As has been pointed out before, women must keep their place in both societies.  Women have much power in Japanese society despite the popular image of the humble, subservient Japanese wife.  They care for the home, see to the children's education, and take charge of finances.  The Japanese man, borrowing and then adding their own pronunciation of an English word, call[s] the lady of the house, arumaiti, that is the "almighty."  The woman is a force of great energy in the Japanese system, especially as she enables the man to concentrate completely on his work.21

The Amish woman also functions as a stable, reliable backbone of the family.22  Housework, children, and probably a significant portion of finances are in her hands.  As "one husband said, 'A wife is not a servant;  she is the queen and the husband is the king."  Feminism has had little impact on either culture.

Mumford points out numerous other cultural similarities--in approach to nature, modes of expressing emotion, and work ethic, for example.  In closing, however, Mumford warns of "tak[ing] these observations too far," though noting that despite the ten thousand miles separating them, "these two peoples arrange many of their attitudes, their social interaction, and their values in a similar fashion."

On a humorous note, professor Kraybill mentions that during his visit

public health officials were concerned about a possible outbreak of the Swine Flu in urban areas and encouraged people to wear masks when they were in public gatherings and in highly congested areas such as airplanes, buses, trains, malls etc.  Thus in my lectures many people were wearing white masks.  About 90% of those who attended my lecture in the art museum were wearing masks.  I told them that I had never lectured to so many doctors in an audience before. It looked like an operating room!

Another of Kraybill's books translated into Japanese is Amish Grace.  "The Nickel Mines Amish forgiveness story continues to make an impact in Japan," he observes, mentioning an interview with Asahi Shimbun, a national newspaper with a circulation eight times that of The New York Times.  The interviewer was particularly interested in the story of Amish forgiveness, as well as "capital punishment and punitive responses to crime," says Kraybill, "both of which are lively topics of debate in Japan."  A column on the discussion is due to appear in the paper later this month.

Click for more Amish (and 'Amish') in odd places:

Amish and Europe's Roma: a comparison

'Amish' in Poland

Amish in South America

(Sources:  David Luthy, Family Life, "Japanese Interest in the Amish," December 1997;  Richard Mumford, "The Japanese and the Amish: Opposite Roots, Similar Values" 1993 unpublished paper)

West of the Mississippi, Amish can be found in Kansas, Montana, Iowa and other states.  The largest 'Western' settlement is that of Seymour, Missouri, with around a dozen church districts as of 2008. 

Amish fields today brim with corn, alfalfa and hay.  One of the pioneering settlers in Cameron County, originally from Holmes County, Ohio, had more tropical ambitions, planting seven acres of fruit trees--the majority orange and grapefruit, but including pomegranate, banana, kumquat, fig, date, coconut, and papaya.  The Amishman chose such a mix "so that when my old friends in the North come here on a visit in a few years from now [they] can sure find some fruit that excites their taste."

In November 1924, the main group of settlers entered a Cleveland train for the 1500 mile trip to their new home.  The long journey meant spending Sunday on the train.  As luck would have it, there was a minister along with the group.  Luthy points out that this was perhaps the only instance when an Amishman preached a sermon while on a moving train. 

The settlement, as it turns out, was stunted from the start.  The seven families who set up shop in Cameron County were the only ones to ever make the move.

The Rio Grande but a stone's throw away, the Plain settlers had much contact with their southern neighbors.  Luthy writes that "the Amish marveled at how simply the Mexicans lived.  Hardly any had tables, and very few had silverware.  They boiled meat and vegetables together and would use a tortilla to dip it from the bowl to their mouths...They never used wheat but corn for everything, grinding it with rocks.  They drank the blackest coffee."

One of the Amish settlers related a memorable experience down by the border. 

Crops raised in Cameron County included citrus, sweet corn, cotton, and a variety of vegetables.  Irrigation was a challenge.  The state tapped the Rio Grande, using a system of pumps and canals to bring life to the barren soils. 

Calling the experience an 'adventure', Luthy notes that the attraction soon wore off.  Since no other families settled the area, and with the original preacher leaving after six months--meaning no chance for church service--prospects for the border Amish were bleak.  As it happened, the families involved had not sold their Ohio home farms, and eventually moved back. 

Luthy closes the Cameron County episode:  "Unlike the other Amish who had attempted to settle in Texas in previous years, the Cameron County people did not lose money from their move South...There was no great loss but likely no real profit either considering the expense of transportation down and back.  As 1926 drew to a close there were no longer any Amish living in Texas."

Click to read about other failed Amish settlements in California, North Carolina, Ohio, Colorado, and New Orleans.

Source:  David Luthy, The Amish in America:  Settlements That Failed, 1840-1960.

'Farms downsize with miniature cows' in the LA Times discusses the benefits and banes of smaller breeds such as the mini-Hereford or mini-Jersey. 

Apparently the diminished versions get more bang for the buck when you look at the meat-to-feed ratio.  Suckers sure are cute, too.  Though cuteness might not necessarily be a plus when it comes to raising animals on Amish farms.  And low-slung udders make for sore knees and cricks in the back, it seems.

Miniature horses abound in Amish America.  Don't recall ever seeing a minicow, though.  Sounds like it might fit with the Amish small farm aesthetic, size-wise, anyway.  Have sent the article onward to AAP for possible commentary.