Polestar August 2016

POLESTAR

Volume 13 Issue 16 August 2016 Photo courtesy of Shanti Rahim

Photo courtesy of AJ Kay

Dear Hokkaido ALTs,

Back to school. Enough interesting/embarrassing experiences to fill a lifetime in front of us. Whether as an educator, learner, or adventurer, Polestar should help you make a little more sense of your life here. We hope you like what you see and consider helping us to make it better. Anyone can submit work to Polestar. Facebook message or email us at editor@hajet.org with any ideas, questions, or concerns.

Thanks to the writers and photographers who made this issue memorable!

Jack Powers, Editor Isabelle Legault, Designer

Next submission deadline: August 30th

Photo courtesy of Ferfie Brownoff Mt. Shari, Hokkaido

. s e r P e th

o m d i o a r k F a, Hok Hey

Ferfie Brownoff President | HAJET

W

elp, that about does it. A year has officially gone by, and brought us back to August once more.

I recognize that there are JETs out there who arrive in April, and so the anniversary of having set foot in Hokkaido has long since passed. There are also those among you who aren’t bound by the contracts of the JET program, or those who have been here a good long while; thus, August means little to you in terms of a milestone. However, August still carries with it some objective importance.

First, as I have lamented previously, a good many of our friends and acquaintances that we’ve made on this beautiful island will likely have headed home by the time you get your hands (or I guess peepers) on this issue. It hasn’t been any less of a bummer since I first realized it. At the very least, though, after having spoken with a number of my departing comrades, they are ready to move on.

Second, a new batch of JETs have arrived en masse, waiting to discover all of the glory and variety that runs rampant in Hokkaido. They’ll soon be faced with figuring out their kerosene “stoves,” all of their introductions at the various offices in their towns, as well as how massive a seemingly small island can be. So please, help me in making sure that we show them all just how stellar living in Hokkaido is.

Last. Uh, not to be that guy, but there have been a good many orange and brown leaves taking over previously green ones in ol’ Rikubetsu. A month ago, I’d have thought “Hah! what a silly tree - you’re the wrong color!” Now, however... Well, uh let’s just say that I don’t anticipate the days getting any warmer. It’s just barely August. Chronologically, it is still summer, as far as my extensive Wikipedia research has confirmed. I will not be uttering any seasonal or pop culture cliches, warning people of particular seasons that occur late in the Northern Hemisphere’s lunar calendar. But, you know, gird yer loins.

Thoughts from the

First Year Rep. Jon Curry First Year Representative | HAJET

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INALLY the defining game of my childhood has come to us in smartphone app form! By the time this Polestar edition is published (or maybe even sooner if, gosh forbid, this fad dies in the next week) you might be sick of Go! taking over your newsfeed. But hear me out! I wanted to do some nostalgia-ing and low-key shameless plugging and also maybe some critiquing about the Pokemon phenomenon.

I won’t get into the nitty gritty details as to why this is the case, but Pokemon has been near and dear to my heart for as long as I can remember. Due to (insert aforementioned “nitty gritty details” here), my family wasn’t in the best financial position when I was a kid. We definitely had everything we needed, and were certainly better off than a lot of people I knew, so I always have to remember to check myself on that before I go being sad about it.

Even so, a big part of my life that was missing something I saw most of my classmates enjoying - was adventure. They would go to amusement parks or other states or even other countries on a whim with their folks. My family made it to Vegas a few times, but could only ever dream of Hawaii.

Even hearing about their bike rides around town made me jealous - I wouldn’t want to or advise anyone to ride around, let alone hang around my neighborhood. And let’s not forget pets! I didn’t have a dog until nearly high school, and then hardly got to see her due to being busy with sports and, ultimately, leaving for college.

Guess what game series covers all of these aspects in epic, elegant, electronic fashion? No, not Beyblades, you nerd. Pokemon! No matter where I’ve lived or what I’ve been through, Pokemon has been there to keep my head above water. On the best days, boring days, sick days, or just plain ol’ sad days, it’s been a game that I can always count on to cheer me up. Rest in peace probably 500+ AA batteries, you served me well.

Even as an adult (weird) Pokemon remains relevant to me, and I’ve never felt franchise fatigue.

I’ve logged literally thousands of hours of my life playing these games, and spent a good chunk

of that time recording and editing in hopes of becoming a Pokemon YouTuber (a.k.a. Poketuber #shamelessplug my channel’s name is Sillyram check it out if you like Pokemon stuff okay I’m done I’m sorry). And now, millions of people are getting back into the franchise once again with their cellular devices. What a time to be alive.

Did ya detect a hint of salt? ‘Cause I’m not gonna lie, Go! has made me a bit salty. I can get past how people who bullied die hard fans are now playing obsessively. I can get over that guy who capitalized the “t” in “Mewtwo” and other misspellings that make the Poke-weeb in me cringe to no end. I can understand that this game is more accessible and cheaper than the full-fledged console games, and therefore easier to commit to playing. What I’m not too jazzed about is how lackluster the game has been overall. Mind you, this is coming from a die hard, wannabe Poketuber, wannabe competitive battler’s point of view. I can appreciate that it’s a spin-off, and is suited for more casual play. And maybe I’m judging it too harshly too soon. But the battle system is so bizarrely designed, possible exploits are glaring, and next to none of the mechanics are clearly explained or even hinted at. Since I can fall back on the console games for my battling fix, I’m satisfied with collecting. But unless things like trading with friends or Pokemon from generations after Red, Blue and Yellow are introduced relatively soon, I can’t give this game the respect I give to the proper games. It’s the closest we’ve ever been to Pokemon irl, but it’s far less satisfying than I had hoped. ...but really, who am I kidding. I flip my stuff when I find new ‘mons to log in my dex. My heart races when an egg is about to hatch. Despite the very obvious issues the game has, it’s a fresh, fun, and more interactive than ever spin on my all-time favorite franchise. If anything, it’s a pretty solid hold over until we get Sun and Moon.

Photo courtesy of Betrice Yambrach

Shimokawa Udon Festival Adam Gentle Northern Representative | HAJET

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bout a month ago, I made post in the HAJET Northern Group asking the membership for their help. The Hokkaido Newcomer’s Guide was nearing completion, and one of the last pieces that needed to be added was a list of noteworthy regional events that new JETs might be interested in checking out. Sean Slater, the current ALT in Shimokawa, mentioned that we should include his town’s Udon Festival, which included something that he called, and I quote: “The Golden Penis Festival.” I remember thinking that the description sounded too bizarrely amazing not to include, and Karisa Whelan, our publications coordinator, apparently agreed. So, the event was added, and we all moved on with our lives.

Fast forward to a couple weeks ago, when Jack informed me that it was my turn as Northern Rep to write about an upcoming regional event for the Polestar. After my initial plan fell flat pretty quickly, I happened to remember that Sean had mentioned something about a penis festival in that Facebook post, and it became immediately obvious that this was the thing I should have been pursuing all along! I got a hold of Sean, who in turn put me in contact with Karisa, who also attended the festival last year. The following is the result of the interviews I conducted with both of them. I had initially planned on weaving the interviews into a narrative format, but in all honesty, the responses I was getting were so good that I wanted them to be able to give you their take on the festival in their own words.

So, with the exception of a little editing, you’re getting word for word quotes. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you’ll consider a trip up to Shimokawa for this truly unique event.

August 27-28

S: Sean Slater

K: Karisa Whelan

Q: When and where was the event, and when will it be held this year?

pass around a giant bottle of Nihonshu, while still holding the shrine, and then we carry the shrine around the square. Local people grab the already prepared buckets of water, and then dump them on the men as they’re carrying it.

S: The last weekend of August of every year. Held at the Shimokawa bus terminal.

K: There are dozens of stalls, all selling lots of local produce. Shimokawa is about 20 minutes from Nayoro in the Kamikawa region.

Q: How would you describe what it's all about?

S: The overarching event is the Shimokawa Udon Festival. My town is known for a particular type of handmade Udon using local wheat. Last year, my town of 3500 people pulled in a crowd of 11000 for the Udon festival.

There’s an Udon eating competition. There’s also a mukade race, which is where they tie 10 people up with a long rope with knots in it, and you tie that around your ankles. Think chain gang, but with rope.

They have to run like two or three hundred meters as one organism. That’s a big draw.

So, on the Sunday evening, we have the…I don’t know what the official title is. Everyone in town calls it the “Akafun,” which is short for Akafundoshi. All the ALTs that I’ve ever known just called it the “Golden Penis Festival.” I think that’s just the name that stuck.

Once it gets dark, they light up the public square with lights. Men (local men only) emerge in Fundoshi and Shinto headpieces from the bus terminal. They hoist the Golden Penis Shrine from where it is on display on the side of the square. Here’s the best part: Before the men come out, there’s a woman who is placed on the Golden Penis. She actually straddles it. Traditionally it used to be virgin, but nowadays I’m not sure that that’s still a thing. We all pick up the shrine with her aboard, and we carry the shrine out in front of everyone. We

This is a take on an old fertility festival, I think. We’re trying to protect the girl and keep her dry as the buckets of water are being slung at us.

Eventually we set the shrine down, and we form a human wall to keep anybody from getting to the shrine and the girl. I was told we have to stand there like we are on guard. We have massive boxes of candy and mochi, and we start slinging it into the crowd.

I think the traditional idea is to appease anyone who would be trying to get at the girl. I don’t really know, but it seems like there’s something like that at play.

Trying to appease the crowd.

K: The festival is meant to be a celebration of the harvest and of fertility. But, in all honestly, it's a chance for people to gorge themselves on delicious local udon, have a few drinks with friends, then giggle at the local townsmen as they parade around in tiny red loincloths carrying a giant golden penis statue. The townspeople take great delight is heaving buckets of water over the men parading the penis. It really brings the town together.

Q: What was your role?

S: No one told me a thing except that I would be carrying the shrine. Then, I show up, and there’s this room of naked men, and they hand me this little strip of cloth. It’s like a thong, dude. And then we started drinking and passing around a sharpie and writing things on each other. This is before the event even started. Someone had a cork gun and was shooting people in the ass with it. I didn’t even see the shrine for the first time until I was out there, half-naked and

drunk, and I was like, “Oh God. That’s a giant, wooden, golden penis.” One of the first people I saw was my JTE from the high school, with a ton of my high school students, who I had just met like two weeks before that.

K: I had no official role, but I was there to support the Shimokawa ALT, Sean. Really, I was there to get dozens of photos of him in his red loincloth to use as blackmail material for years to come. But, I visit Shimokawa often and was happy with how many familiar local faces I had the chance to see.

Q: Why should ALTs be interested in attending?

K: You have to see this festival. It has everything!

Penises, beer, local food, penises, men in loincloths, udon, penises, stalls, and, of course, you can see a giant golden penis. It is one of the funniest festivals in Hokkaido, and it's in a beautiful part of the island that many people wouldn't visit without a big event.

S: For one, they get to seem me make an ass of myself.

It’s a good experience to see a lot of people who just work at the yakuba, or the Board of Education or something, and they just kind of let go. It’s a spectacle you won’t get anywhere else. It’s a side of Japan that you won’t get many places these days.

Q: What is your single biggest takeaway from this experience?

K: I guess you can't help but take away an understanding of how fun people in Japan are. When you work in an office environment, you experience the serious side of Japan each day, but, away from work, Japanese people are fun. They are willing to be silly and celebrate together.

S: My biggest takeaway was that sometimes the best way to get involved and meet people in the community is just to take that leap. There’s no point in being bashful or embarrassed.

Photos courtesy of Karisa Whelan

A Japanese hero, an Ainu villain

Betrice Yambrach Central Representative | HAJET

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iving in Hokkaido, we are surrounded by the remnants of one of Japan’s greatest samurai warriors. This might seem strange given Hokkaido’s Ainu past precluded it from the samurai legacy that the rest of Japan holds. Legend and history have a canny way of intermixing in the service of outside influence. Whether he ever stepped foot on the island or not, Minamoto no Yoshitsune matters here.

Born in 1159 and raised in the Hiei Mountains near Kyoto, Yoshitsune became a national hero by avenging his father’s death alongside the famous warriormonk Benkei, but he was betrayed and killed by his older brother. After his death, Yoshitsune became a household name and his story continues to resonate with many Japanese people due to his hanganbiiki, or underdog charm. In much of the same way that the King Arthur or Robin Hood legends are regarded in the west, Yoshitsune’s legend holds a significant kind of value in Japan.

Yoshitsune’s presence in Hokkaido is prominent, but not easily recognizable as it has been weaved in with Ainu legend. An unsubstantiated theory claims that before they could be killed, Yoshitsune and Benkei escaped. The two traveled to Hokkaido, helped the Ainu fight against their enemies, and lived out the rest of their days as important and revered members of the

Ainu community. To some, Yoshitsune even escaped death a second time in his old age by ascending into Ainu Godhood. And to even some others, Yoshitsune eventually left Hokkaido, moved to Mongolia, and became the man who we now know as Genghis Khan.

In spite of all historical common-sense, Hokkaido offers plenty of evidence to support Yoshitsune’s presence. In Esashi, near Hakodate, you can find Benkei’s “footprint” forever embedded in stone. Right near Suttsu, in western Hokkaido, is Benkei Misaki. The cape is named after Benkei and Yoshitsune’s travels through the area before they settled in Niikappu, in the Hidaka region. In honor of Yoshitsune’s life in the area, Niikappu’s town sign is an image of Yoshitsune in his samurai armor riding on a horse with his katana unsheathed and ready for battle. Though, it should be mentioned that not many people recognize this as Yoshitsune. Rather, just a general image of a samurai. Next to Niikappu is a town called Biratori, where it’s said Yoshitsune died and was buried. A shrine here was built in his honor and is still standing today.

Though it’s an interesting story, very few people actually believe that Yoshitsune lived in Hokkaido. Much like popular conspiracy theories surrounding Elvis or Michael Jackson, Yoshitsune made such a great social and cultural impact in his time that many people initially refused to accept his death.

It’s more probable that the legend became popular

Utagawa Kunitsuna, 1859

at a time when Hokkaido was still independent from Japan but under Japanese threat. After all, it’s a bit coincidental that a famous Japanese historical hero miraculously escaped death and moved to Hokkaido to befriend the Ainu and help them fight against their own (unspecified) enemies. It’s also a bit suspicious that Yoshitsune’s life, burial, and shrine just so happen to be in the heaviest Ainu-populated region in Hokkaido, the Hidaka sub-region.

As Japan was working toward obtaining Hokkaido as a territory, it tried to weave Yoshitsune into Ainu legend and culture in order to give the Ainu a part of Japan to embrace and respect. But, rather than reject Yoshitsune, the Ainu accepted him into their history and made his legend their own. To the Japanese, Yoshitsune is a hero.

To the Ainu, he’s a trickster and a villain.

Historically, the Ainu have never had a written language.

This fact has often been used against them by Japanese to validate their own cultural superiority. In multiple Ainu legends, Yoshitsune was an important figure in the Ainu community. But one night, he broke into an Ainu chief’s quarters and stole the Ainu’s most treasured, ancient, and only book and ran away. This book held (and represented) the Ainu language and therefore the Ainu blame Yoshitsune for their lack of a written language.

But the question stands, why would a shrine be built for Yoshitsune in Biratori (home to the largest Ainu community in Japan) if the Ainu resented him? John

Batchelor, a Christian missionary who spent six decades in Hokkaido with the Ainu (~1880 to 1944), had a few things to say about the Yoshitsune legend and shrine. Batchelor stated that Yoshitsune was seen not so much as a god, but as a “creator” amongst the Ainu. He was the creator of cuckoos, snakes, and other similar animals and objects considered evil omens or just unpleasant. As for the shrine in Biratori, Batchelor remarked that it had been built not very long ago and was clearly Japanese-made and styled. He stressed that no Ainu seriously offered prayer at the shrine and that it was often scoffed at in the community. The one time Batchelor did witness a prayer being made was when an Ainu man came to the shrine, drunk, to pray for sake. Apparently, he often came to the shrine to express gratitude for all of the sake he had received thus far and to ask for the continuation of his sake fortune.

There’s no doubt that the legend of Yoshitsune in Hokkaido was fabricated to impose a Japanese cultural presence in the area. Ironically, the Ainu ultimately accepted the legend, yet took on a completely different image of Yoshitsune than what the Japanese might have originally intended. Did the Ainu purposely defile Yoshitsune’s name and image to spite Japan, expressing a kind of cultural pushback? We can’t really speak for the Ainu personally or their complicated history with the Japanese. But as foreigners living in Hokkaido, the legend of Yoshitsune allows us to be more aware and consider the history and meaning behind names, signs, stories, and places that surround us in Hokkaido.

Shakushain’s War

Jack Powers Editor | HAJET

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iikappu doesn’t have a grocery store. The big box stores of Shizunai, the big brother town, are impossible to escape. Though each town occupies large geographic areas, their central districts are less than 10 kilometers apart, making trips back and forth a seamless part of the local lifestyle.

Life in each town is virtually unthinkable without the other. One hundred and thirty kilometers from Sapporo, unconnected by highway or train service, the area has minimal outside influence and a genuine, pulsating furusato feeling to it. The dominant local industry is horse-raising, with horse ranches, racing groups, veterinary and dentistry services fanned out over the region. Horses directly connect the town’s local economies and cultures. Only together do the two towns create a coherent whole, and, yet, mistrust and rivalry boils at a low heat among their respective citizenries.

Once in class while explaining the “better than/worse than” comparison structure, I got a nearly standing ovation when I gave the example “Niikappu is better than Shizunai.” Conversely, the distaste is more severe on the other side. During late nights at the joyously-crumbling snack bars of downtown Shizunai, locals have twice lectured me to move out of Niikappu. One woman said with pride that in her more than 40 years of living in the region she had never once been to any of Niikappu’s three museums and had few friends from the town.

It seemed strange- a fraternal rivalry taken too far. Most direct questioning resulted in shrugs and studied repetitions that it was so. The official histories of the towns date back just over a century when they were incorporated by Japanese settlers, and thus modern history doesn’t provide strong clues. But human settlement in the area is much older. Before the towns were small sleepy hamlets dotting the map of Japanese Hokkaido, they were hubs of the Ainu civilization. Moreover, they were home to rival clans and lots of history, some of it bloody.

The western Hidaka region, situated roughly between the Shibuchari River (now called the “Shizunai River”) to the East and the Saru River to the West, was a center of the so-called “Lower Ainu.” Kaiho Mineo argues that the Ainu of this area could be separated into two main political spheres: the Sarunkur group, inhabiting the region roughly between Mukawa and Niikappu, and the Menashikur (or Shibuchari) group, between Shizunai and Urakawa. Amidst these broad political spheres, were river-based chiefdoms, pettiwor, situated alongside major watersheds or coastal rivers. The region incorporated by modern Niikappu was originally called “Biboku” by its Ainu inhabitants and was the pettiwor immediately west of the Shibuchari Ainu, who lived in and around modern-day Shizunai.

In 1669, Biboku (Niikappu) was the site of the betrayal and death of Shakushain, pride of the Shibuchari Ainu and last great hope for Ainu independence.

Unsurprisingly, Shizunai natives haven’t quite let this go and it is the most consequential historical reason for the regional animus.

What would later be called “Shakushain’s War” started as a border war between the Shibuchari Ainu and the Hae Ainu, both of whom had partial claims to the Shibuchari River. A member of the Hae captured a live crane in the Urakawa region, which upset Shakushain, leader of the Shibuchari Ainu, because he understood that area to be part of his greater domain. This inflamed the existing contest over resources between the two tribes that mirrored the plight of all of Ainu society following the intrusion of Japanese traders into Ezo (modern Hokkaido.)

For centuries, Ainu subsistence relied on hunting local animals, mainly deer, and fishing, mainly salmon. But as the Japanese pushed trade further into Ezo, animals that the Ainu had long depended on for subsistence and ritual purposes were made into tradable commodities and hunted in ever-expanding numbers. The exchange rates that Japanese traders offered for valuable Ainu goods were tremendously skewed (for example, for one barrel of sake an Ainu had to exchange 500 sea cucumbers.)

Japanese products, mainly rice, tobacco, and sake, had become deeply intertwined with Ainu life and ritual ceremonies. Ainu export trade largely consisted of deer, fish, and fur, products that all stressed the control of land and fisheries.

In the early 17th Century, the Edo Shogunate gave the Matsumae domain on the southern tip of Ezo (an area called “Wajinchi”) exclusive rights to trade with the Ainu and nominal dominion over the natives of Hokkaido.

With the Matsumae trade monopoly and the usurious exchange rates it exacted, dependency and lack of food became a major problem for the Ainu.

Shakushain was the only Ainu leader powerful and charismatic enough to unite fractious Ainu groups against the encroaching Japanese military and commercial domination of Ezo. His armies devastated the Hae in short succession before rallying local Ainu groups into a coalition and turning his attention towards the real threat, the Matsumae forces in Wajinchi.

Ainu warriors under Shakushain, using poison arrows and some firearms, killed 273 Japanese and routed Japanese forces in battles in Shiriao and Yoichi. At one point, Shakushain’s forces were less than a 10-day march from the Matsumae stronghold at Fukuyama

Castle (in modern-day Matsumae town). The Shogunate in Edo (Tokyo) was sufficiently frightened by the threat to its northern border to call in outside support on behalf of the Matsumae domain, a significant embarrassment for the Matsumae. Shakushain seemed to stand on the precipice of uniting the disparate Ainu clans of Ezo against the Japanese invaders, striking fear in the Wajinchi settlers.

With the military assistance and expertise of several northern Honshu domains on its side, Matsumae dispatched 628 men, including 27 samurai, 2 cannons, and scattered firearms, to put down the insurrection.

The Japanese forces first met Shakushain at Kunnui.

Because Japanese armor proved too strong for the Ainu’s arrows, Shakushain retreated back to his Shibuchari headquarters. The Matsumae army, reinforced by more warriors from Honshu, followed him through the countryside, brutally killing suspected rebels along the way (several Ainu and Japanese Ainusympathizers were crucified.) They surrounded the Shibuchari region and threatened Shakushain and his clan with extinction.

Shakushain surrendered to the superior army and agreed to pay a tribute of a “thousand treasures” to the Japanese commander in exchange for peace. At the party in Biboku (Niikappu) in honor of the peace settlement, Shakushain and his generals were treacherously murdered by Matsumae soldiers after “liberal helpings of sake.” The aftermath of “Shakushain’s War” saw the Matsumae domain spreading its trading posts further afield and taking greater and greater direct control over the inner affairs of Ezo. It’s important to stress that the Biboku villagers did not kill Shakushain and his men. Rather, Matsumae commanders ordered their men to cut down the Ainu leaders once they were intoxicated. Moreover, any collusion from Biboku Ainu in the act has not been proved. But, yes, it is true that a certain dream of Hokkaido did definitively die in my town, Niikappu. And, no, we don’t have any grocery stores, but at least we’re not fu**ing Shizunai.

Most of the research for this article came from Brett Walker’s “The Conquest of Ainu Lands: Ecology and Culture in Japanese Expansion.” For further reading on Ainu history, I highly recommend this work.

Photos courtesy of Jack Powers

HAJET

Welcome Parties 1

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5

4

Not a member?

Northern

Not new?

Where: Otoineppu When: Aug. 20th

No problem!

1 Eastern

South Western

Where: Lake Akan

Where: Niseko

When: Aug. 27th

When: Sept. 3rd

2

3

Central

Sapporo

Where: Lake Kanayama

Where: TBA

When: Sept. 10th

When: Oct. 1st

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5

Sean Slater Niupu, Hokkaido