Tim from Sleeping in the Mountains has written a really good piece about Hokkaido, my home from home from home.
It really captures what's happening to the ghost towns of Japan's Wild North frontier.
I would like to add to it a couple of scenes.
The first is the glittering pachinko parlour and its full car park of shining SUVs. It's somewhere down the highway out of town or right in the centre near the whitewashed brick English-village style railway station. The pachinko parlour is the only show in town, a hub of gaudiness in sparkling oranges and yellows syphoning off any vibrancy that's left from the surrounding void of emptiness, dying and decay.
The other is the old woman. Surely you have seen her, that one solitary old lady, alone at midday on an empty main street in a world of ordered silence, sweeping fastidiously imagined dust in front of her already immaculate store? She has no time for your sadness at the scent of death.
The Alex Kerr-esque stuff Tim describes with the public works and the mascot and the record-breaking, ridiculous grand-scale European immitations and the empty museums and rest of the pork-barrel tourist attraction extravaganzas, and how things were before and after the bubble, and how Hokkaido was in the war all rings true.
I'm also interested in where Hokkaido people came from, why they moved there in the first place, and who they replaced when they arrived.
And how that history influences their mentality and relationship with the island.
And the cold and cruel conditions of the place.
And how this affects its people (I'd live up there but for the winters).
And all the dark secrets.
And the relationship with an aloof and distant Tokyo.
And a rough and openly hostile Russia.
And how the conquistadores feel wronged.
And why the young want out.
Posted by Setsunai at February 10, 2006 5:39 PMI went to Hokkaido just the once in February or March of 1999. A quick trip to Sapporro and then a night in Otaru. I am not sure why I went to Otaru but there seemed to be more Russians on the streets than Japanese. And the Russians were pretty noisy.
I also ate a "Genghis Khan" barbecue one evening and we were the only two eating outside in pretty cold weather. Much to the amusement, and then dislike, of the serving staff.
The kids on the train from Sapporo to Otaru all had rosy cheeks and one, seemingly nominated by his peers, boldly approached me and asked me if I was Italian. It must have been my equally ruddy complexion and blue eyes that drew him to such a conclusion. His disappointment mirrored my surprise.
Posted by: Pat at February 14, 2006 9:37 PM | Permalink to CommentThanks very much Setsunai - I'm glad you liked the piece. My town is actually too small for a Pachinko Parlor of its own, but there are at least a dozen within a half hour's drive. Let me know when you're coming North for a hiking trip - after the snow melts of course.
Posted by: Tim at February 15, 2006 7:30 AM | Permalink to CommentOh, and the saddest thing about the old woman? She uses a baby stroller as a walker for the bent-backed shuffle down the sidewalk.
Posted by: Tim at February 15, 2006 7:31 AM | Permalink to CommentSetsunai,
I drove around the Ainu-related areas in Hokkaido one autumn a few years back. It was very desolate.
You mentioned you were "interested in where Hokkaido people came from, why they moved there in the first place, and who they replaced when they arrived."
There is a marked contrast between the "pioneer" stories told in the Hokkaido Kaitaku Kinenkan (Historical Museum of Hokkaido), and the "native" stories told in the various Ainu museums.
If you have a chance to check them out, I'd recommend it.
Posted by: miyoshijohn at February 15, 2006 4:44 PM | Permalink to CommentCheers Tim. Will definitely get in touch if I'm going up there this year.
John: Haven't been to the museums but would like to go some time. Did go to the "traditional Ainu village" on the shores of Lake Akan, where they wheel out the Ainu on the hour to do traditional Ainu dances for the crowds from the tour buses.
Posted by: Setsunai at February 19, 2006 11:42 PM | Permalink to Comment