The Shiraoi Ainu Museum is a two hour journey from Niseko on winding mountain roads. The swathes of forests, all turning red and yellow now, stretched towards the Pacific Ocean.
At the museum entrance, we were met by this rather large gentleman (above). If he were to speak, he might sing a traditional Ainu song, one that goes something like this:
I work in the fields
If there is a "Yabumame" (bush bean), then where is it?
If there is no "Yabmame", then I will leave.
There was a performance of these songs in one of the traditional Ainu houses (or 'Kotan') - large wooden huts with thatched roofs made of kogon and bamboo grasses and beautiful inner-rooms, decorated with woven black and yellow reeds. It was a lullaby, where a woman in long robes and a heavy black head-dress, sang to the doll she was cradling. She rolled her 'rs' softly in between verses, like putting an infant in a car with the engine running so that she falls asleep.
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| Kotan |
The dance performance consisted of a young man looking for a bird to shoot with his bow and arrow. He stamped out a rhythm at an ever-increasing pace, pointing his arrow to the ground, then to the sky, then to the ground. The next dance was the women circling the fireplace and clapping rhythmically, turning to their right and left, and swaying their arms from one side to the other.
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| A woman weaving bamboo grass |
The museum reminded me a little of the 'St Ffagan - the Museum of the Welsh Way of Life' near Cardiff (first destination of Welsh school trips) in that it was outside and centered on performances in traditional buildings. And yet, there was something about the Ainu Museum that was, well, a little sad. St Ffagan's is often criticised because the existence of the museum implies that the Welsh Way of Life is something of the past, not to be repeated, which is clearly not the case. Perhaps there was a time forty years ago where a 'Welsh Way of Life' was endangered and seemingly 'on the way out' in some form, but the Welsh Language Movement (Cymdeithas yr Iaith) and Plaid Cymru and the Youth Movement in Wales did not allow for that to happen. Recently, Welsh language-speakers are increasing in number and Welsh cultural life is obviously impossibly far away from being 'extinguished'.
But is the same true of the Ainu Museum, I wonder? There I really felt that I was in a museum. Even though I would like to say the opposite, of course. And the reason for that, perhaps, is the fact that Ainu is not a written language. It has no alphabet, no way of recording it for posterity. All the native speakers have died, and the language is being lost. There are around 25,000 Ainu people still living in Japan - two thousand live in Tokyo.
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Ainu-designed cotton Kimono
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And I wonder what it is about Ainu culture that these two thousand people in Tokyo inherit that make them Ainu, and not Japanese? Especially in Tokyo - this huge sprawling metropolis of modern technology and development. It's not language anymore. Maybe I'm guilty of placing too much important on language as a symbol of culture and belonging, but if they don't have a separate language, then what makes them Ainu? I can't imagine the men wearing full beards and moustaches and traditional head-dresses. Nor the woman tattooing their arms. You can't do those things and find work in Tokyo! Maybe they practice skills and techniques - like wood-carving and weaving - which are distinctly Ainu. Or perhaps it's self-identification (I am Ainu) and personal history (my mother is Ainu). But history goes on and one's ancestors only become further and further removed until they are no longer ancestors, but strangers: forgotten people.
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| Ainu wood-carving |
What is left? Will it be mementoes of the past - keyrings of Ainu design (like 'celtic' designs); cotton kimonos; ornaments and souvenirs.
I suppose - please forgive the comparison - it's a little like the difference between seeing animals in the wild and in a zoo. There's preservation for preservation's sake - and there's a natural survival. And Ainu culture seems to be leaning more towards this fearful, anxious preservation than the natural transmission of cultural knowledge.
The museum even went so far as to illustrate my metaphor. For some inexplicable reason they decided to 'showcase' animals at the museum in small, ugly cages. To attract visitors, I imagine.
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| Hokkaido dog - father to the 'Softbank' mascot |
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| And who are these tasty treats for? |
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| Bear. Sad bear. |
There were five bears in tiny cages walking round in circles. You could feed them little cakes which you threw down a pipe for them to eat. It was rather odd and sad at the same time. It made me think nostalgically of the fat pig in St Ffagan roaming his field.
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| At the lake or 'Poro' |
The Ainu Museum was full of interesting little facts - like he Ainu 'Bear Soul-Sending' Ceremony. The Ainu believed that the souls of animals yearned to be in heaven and that by killing them they were effectively 'set free'. And so, in the 'Soul-Sending ceremony', a bear would be shot down with arrows and the Ainu saw its writhing in agony as an expression of supreme pleasure at being brought close to heaven. (Yukio Mishima anyone?)
After the museum, we had to go and have some beef. Like proper tourists, every place has its 'famous thing' (名物) that you must go and try. Shiraoi is famous for its beef, so we drove around to find a place...
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| Bibs were not optional |
The drive back, we let Mr T sleep in the car and had a bit of a wander and discovered this:
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| Pretty, isn't it? |
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