Just another “stumbled upon” events. (Aren’t those the best?)
A pair of Japanese toads “at work”.
Fortunately, this road doesn’t get much traffic.
Just another “stumbled upon” events. (Aren’t those the best?)
A pair of Japanese toads “at work”.
Fortunately, this road doesn’t get much traffic.
It’s well into March, and not a single post. Spring has finally arrived – we’ve reached the stage when the days with double digit maximums outnumber those with only single digits. I’ve even seen turtles basking in the late morning sun. Winter’s claws haven’t gone altogether, however. Cold rainy days are to be expected, and the Japanese have a term for this kind of weather – sankan-shion (三寒四温), literally “three cold, four warm”, meaning that three days of cold weather will be followed by four days of cold weather.
Some time back I said that I would get around to talking about the killing of the elephants at Ueno Zoo during the war, and its horrible re-telling in the Sunshine textbook. I’ve been feeling more than a little cynical lately about Japan’s selective memory of events 1905-1945, so that time has come.
I’ll give you the full text first, then my analysis.
Now the analysis, with relevant pieces of text in quotations, and my comments in bold text. Be warned, this won’t be pretty.
OK, let’s begin with the title: Faithful Elephants? The original Japanese title translates as “Pitiful Elephants”, which is much closer to reality. The story contains no acts of faithfulness.
“Many years ago, there were three wonderful elephants at the Ueno Zoo. The elephants were John, Tonky, and Wanly. They could do tricks. Visitors to the zoo loved to see their tricks.”
Comment: Actually, Jon, Tonki and Wanli. Jon and Tonki were purchased from India, and Wanli was a present from the Thai State Youth Organisation, but was frequently referred to as “Hanako”.
It seems that Jon, despite being a trained elephant, started to ignore keeper’s commands and was becoming dangerous.
Also note that “they could do tricks” implies that the elephants were trained in a similar manner to circus animals.
“Japan was at war then. Little by little the situation was getting worse. Bombs were dropped on Tokyo every day.”
Comment: The events described in this story happened in August-September, 1943 – some six months before the Tokyo air raids. Bombs were NOT dropped on Tokyo every day. This is a straight out distortion of the facts.
“If bombs hit the zoo, dangerous animals will get away and harm the people of Tokyo.”
Comment: Notice the incorrect grammar in a textbook purporting to teach grammar? To make matters worse, this is not the only instance of a type 2 conditional being used in place of a type 3 in the Sushine series. If you don’t want to use a certain conditional because it is not taught at junior high school level, then use a different expression!!
“So, the Army ordered the zoo to kill all the dangerous animals such as lions, tigers, and bears.”
Comment: It was not the military who ordered the killing, but the governor of Tokyo – one Shigeo Odachi – who had, prior to this appointment, served as mayor of occupied Singapore.
Some 27 animals fell under the category of dangerous and were disposed of. Yet, despite the zoo having two Winchester rifles, all these animals were poisoned, clubbed, stabbed, garrotted or starved.
“Before long, it was time to kill the three elephants. The zookeepers did not want to kill them, but they had to follow the orders. They started with John.”
Comment: Actually, the process for killing the bull elephant Jon was started on August 13th, 1943, before the order for disposing of dangerous animals was given.
“John loved potatoes, so they gave him poisoned potatoes together with good ones. But John was so clever that he ate only the good potatoes. Then they tried to give him an injection. But John’s skin was too hard for the needles to go through. When this did not work, they decided to give him no food. Poor John died in seventeen days.”
Comment: While the potato story appears to be true, the poisoned needle story is suspicious at best. Zoo records show that the elephant Tonki had been given injections in the past, and that it was possible to take blood samples (presumably via needle) from the dying elephants later. Critics are of the opinion that starvation was intended from the beginning.
“Bombs continued to drop on Tokyo. And a few days later, Tonky and Wanly died.”
Comment: The narrative repeats the falsehood about the air raids. Furthermore, there was a memorial service held for the three dead elephants held on September 4th, 1943. This is noteworthy because the two female elephants were still alive but slowly and painfully starving to death! Wanli died a full week later, and Tonki (the most popular of the three elephants) lasted until September 23rd.
Analysis ends here.
It is also worth remembering that other animals were later starved to death – the hippopotamuses being a notable example. The three giraffes were the only large animals to survive to the end of the war.
The zoo remained open throughout the war, and some enclosures were used to raise animals for meat. Also noteworthy was the imprisonment and display of downed bomber pilot Ray Halloran in the old tiger enclosure in 1945.
For a fuller understanding of the situation, please read the excellent and extensively researched article Starving the Elephants: The Slaughter of Animals in Wartime Tokyo’s Ueno Zoo by Frederick S. Litten.
The elephants and other animals were more victims of a bloody-minded administration than innocent victims of war.
Tokorozawa likes to think of itself as the home of Japan’s first powered flight. That isn’t quite true – the first flight was at the Imperial Army’s Yoyogi Parade Ground (now Yoyogi Park). Tokorozawa can instead lay claim to being the home of Japan’s first permanent airfield. Incidentally, it was the same pilot – Captain (later Lt. General) Yoshitoshi Tokugawa – who was responsible for both inaugural flights.
The other first Tokorozawa can lay claim to is the site of Japan’s first fatal air crash.
On March 28, 1913, Lieutenants Suzujiro Kimura (pilot) and Kin-ichi Tokuda (passenger) were returning to Tokorozawa from the Aoyama Parade Grounds (now the Meiji Shrine outer gardens) in their Blériot when, just before noon, a sudden gust of wind broke the left wing, causing the plane to crash in a barley field. Both men died almost immediately.
Both had transferred to the newly formed air corps from the artillery and infantry, respectively.
A monument to both men now stands in Kokukoen Park (the site of the original airfield and air corps), having been moved several times since its unveiling. In fact, many people think that the crash site is where the monument currently stands.
The crash site is about one kilometre away, ironically enough, at the edge of a cemetery.
Yes, that is a cemetery.
I decided that it would be worth taking a detour on my way home on a relatively warm and sunny Friday.
Today, Tokorozawa’s connection with aircraft is limited to the Aviation Museum and the Air Traffic Control Centre for the Kanto region.
However, seeing the crash site satisfied my curiosity (I had been meaning to go there for some time), and I even spotted some Chinese bamboo partridges around the marker. It pays to keep your eyes open!
While the kan may have officially come and gone, there is still little sign of spring. The days are getting longer – the sun doesn’t set until after 5:00 these days – but the cold weather, especially the icy cold in the mornings, continues. Looking for signs of spring, I can see that the magnolias are beginning to bud, the cold north-westerly winds generate dust storms and add time to my commute to work. There is, however, a better candidate – ume.
Ume (Prunus mume) is a plant lost in translation – it is widely known as the Chinese plum or Japanese apricot, while its flowers are often translated as plum blossom. It is also known by the Chinese name mei or mai, the Japanese name ume, or its scientific name mume. The latter is sometimes said to be derived from Chinese.
Since the plant is neither plum nor apricot – it actually sits between the two – I’ll use the name ume here.
Ume (梅) is originally from China and was brought to Japan around the 6th or 7th centuries. Growing between four and 10 metres in height, it is valued for its fragrant blossoms and fruit. The trees blossom – in the Kanto, at least – from February to early March, producing five-petalled flowers (although double blossoms are also known) in various shades, from white to pink to red.
The white blossoms are commonly known as hakubai (白梅), and the red ones as kobai (紅梅).
The blossoms are also prized for their fragrance, which is noticeably absent in cherry blossoms.
Originally, flower-viewing parties meant either ume or wisteria until the Heian period, when cherry blossom became the norm. Even so, there is poetry dating from this era which praises the ume over the cherry.
Blossoming in winter has also earned the ume a place in the “three friends of winter” next to pine and bamboo. Ume designs are often found on New Year greeting cards, and small potted ume are sold as New Year ornaments.
Moreover, the blossom has found its way into several heraldic designs.
In addition to its blossom, the ume is valued for its fruit. Many of these are pickled with salt and are called umeboshi. Ume are also used in jams, dipping sauces and juices.
My personal favourite, however, is umeshu, a liqueur made from white spirits, ume and sugar. This is typically steeped for six months to a year, but I once had the pleasure of receiving a small bottle of 25 year-old umeshu, dark and syrupy, in which even the stones of the fruit had dissolved.
Around the time the fruit ripens, the East Asian monsoon season sets in. This is known as tsuyu or baiu in Japan, and is written 梅雨, literally “ume rain”.
Owing to its gnarly wood and relative hardiness, the ume is also a favoured subject for bonsai. There is even a specific word for this – bonbai.
The ume is the official flower of dozens of cities, towns and wards in Japan, and as I write this, the parks and gardens boasting thousands of ume trees will be gearing up for the tourists coming to see the blossoms.
I may or may not be able to make a trip out so far, but luckily there are are few ume trees on my commute. Now all I need is some warmth! (And a glass of umeshu…)
Happy New Year!
“Huh?”, I hear you ask.
Let me explain. February 3rd is Setsubun, literally “division of the seasons”. On the lunar calendar, this was the end of the kan – the coldest part of the year – and folklore holds that from now the weather will get warmer.* (For more information, see “24”)
New Year’s cards often have the word “risshun” (立春) – literally “rise of spring” – on them. This stems from the fact that, prior to the adoption of the Gregorian calendar, Setsubun was the division between the old year and the new year. February 4th (or roughly there about) was the first day of the new year.
So, Happy New Year!
* Unfortunately, no-one has told the weather that it is supposed to be getting warmer. More cold weather – including fridge temperature maximums – and snow have been predicted for this week.
Rumours of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. Rumours of me being too lazy to put together a decent blog post are pretty well spot-on.
Of course, I will try to rationalise it away – it’s cold out there, I don’t have my own camera, family commitments, the trip to Kyoto…
Everyone who is someone, or even anyone, in Japan has been there.
My first experience of Kyoto was during my stint as an exchange student back in 1989. It would be more than 25 years until I visited again, this time as guide and chaperone to my niece (on her second trip – she had to wait less than one year).
This isn’t a travel blog, so I’ll let the pictures do most of the talking.
Kyoto had received its heaviest snowfall in over 60 years, and we were warned to expect snow and extreme cold. Luckily, there was almost no trace of that snow, nor was it particularly cold during our stay.
We arrived on January 10th at a little before 11. After leaving our luggage at the hotel, the first stop on the agenda was the Gion area, specifically the Yasaka Shrine.
My own reasons for visiting this shrine were very much WIJ themed – I remembered another blogger’s post about the kirin there. Unfortunately, I didn’t have
my the wife’s camera (I was forced to leave that home), and my mobile phone doesn’t quite cut it in less than optimal conditions, so please excuse the quality of my photos.
The lion dogs which guard shrines are known as komainu (狛犬), but you’ll notice that one of the guardians of the Yasaka Shrine has a single horn. This has led some people to believe that it is not a lion dog but in fact a kirin (麒麟), or unicorn.
(There are bizzare theories that this is related to the lion and unicorn on the Royal Coat of Arms of the United Kingdom, suggesting a Semetic origin of the Japanese!)
From Yasaka, an easy walk to the famed Kiyomizu Temple, my favourite spot on my previous visit… only to find that it is currently under repair! No photos there!
A bus ride to Ginkakuji, whose garden is well worth the entrance fee. I hadn’t visited this before, so it was quite a treat.
It was here that my niece asked me about various Japanese plants, and I was able to explain about Aucuba, coral bush, and several other plants. She astutely observed the lack of flowering plants and that most of the colour to be seen was fruit.
After Ginkakuji, we took a short stroll along the Philosopher’s Walk and stumbled upon another temple, the Honen-in. It cost us nothing to enter the grounds, but the garden was quite good.
We decided to call it a day – most temples and shrines close to the public at 4:30 in winter – and made our way back to the hotel. There, I plotted out our route for the next day.
The first stop on day 2 was Kinkaku-ji. No-one seems to care that the current building dates from the 1950’s, and after all, it is a very nice piece of real estate. My niece was interested in the carp in the pond, while I pointed out the night heron waiting in a tree.
Ryoanji was next on the agenda. This was my first visit, but I had heard and read a lot about the famous rock garden. It is certainly worth visiting.
Next, we paid an impromptu visit to Ninnaji. A couple of the buildings were under repair, and for me it lacked something – maybe I was suffering from temple overload. Still, we were able to enter the grounds for free.
From there, a bus ride to the Arashiyama area.
The bamboo forest walk was quite impressive, and no camera can capture the feeling of being surrounded by huge bamboo stalks.
Next was Tenryuji, a large temple with a nice garden and large pond. Here, many of the plants were labelled – how thoughtful!
Finally, we walked down to Togekkyo. The bridge was a disappointment – a modern concrete structure, complete with traffic. A bridge too far? Oh, well… tomorrow is another day.
The morning of the 13th brought snow, but it stopped during our late-ish breakfast. My plan was to visit Fushimi Inari Taisha and maybe one other location, time permitting. Time didn’t permit – no-one told me that the shrine complex extends up a hill and needs at least 2 hours to complete the circuit!
A sign proudly states that the shrine complex was voted the most popular destination in Kyoto among overseas tourists in 2014. Each to their own, I guess.
There were other places I would have liked to visit, and I really needed more time for those unplanned “stumble upon” experiences. I just hope I don’t have to wait another 25 years for my next Kyoto visit!
Many thanks to my sister and niece, without whom this trip wouldn’t have happened.
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 14,000 times in 2014. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 5 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.
Whoops! It’s been far too long between posts and the winter solstice is upon us yet again. Japan has a few traditions relating to this date. Yuzu-yu is one, there are also ideas about eating azukigayu, a kind of red bean and rice gruel, but I also recently stumbled across some information about eating food with a specific phonetic value.
I have mentioned this in passing, usually related to homophones (the kelp kombu sounds similar to yorokobu – to be happy) or shape (soba noodles which are long and therefore associated with long life). Only this time, the desired phonetic value is an “n”.
Let me explain a little about the Japanese language. It is a syllabic language, and every syllable (or, more correctly, mora) contains a vowel value, either as a stand-alone vowel or consonant-plus-vowel combination – except the “n” mora. This odd-man-out is also sometimes represented by an “m” (as in the above-mentioned “kombu”) since it often changes phonetic value when preceding a “b”, “m” or “p”.
Anyway, there is a belief that eating food with the “n” sound will prevent cerebrovascular disease, or at least bring good luck (“n” sounds similar to un, meaning “luck”)
Examples include carrots (ninjin), giant radish (daikon), lotus root (renkon), udon noodles (which have the added advantage of being long, therefore promoting long life into the bargain) and pumpkin. (That’s winter squash for those of you from the U.S.A., who think that pumpkins come in orange only.)
Pumpkin is an interesting example because its most common Japanese name (kabocha – said to be derived from the Portuguese name for “Cambodia”, whence Portuguese sailors first brought pumpkin to Japan in the mid-16th century) doesn’t have the “n” sound.
But don’t worry. As regular readers of this blog know, many things in Japan have more than one name, and the pumpkin is no exception. One of its other names is nankin uri (南京瓜) – literally “Nangking gourd” – and often simply shortened to nankin (with two of the lucky “n”s!) Curiously, the afore-mentioned word kabocha is rendered into kanji as 南瓜.
The most common pumpkin dish is possibly pumpkin simmered in stock. Personally, I prefer pumpkin tempura, which also has the lucky “n” – although I can’t recall it making me particularly lucky.
With its high sugar content, it is one of the few autumn vegetables that will keep into the winter. It is also rich in vitamins, particularly vitamin A and beta carotene, and is frequently listed as a food to prevent colds and flu.
While there is a fair chance that I won’t be eating pumpkin this solstice, typing this has given me a craving for pumpkin. And – who knows – maybe I might just get lucky.
Today’s Wild In Japan was brought to you by vitamin A, β carrotene, and by the mora “n”.
The weather has been erratic lately – we’ve had glorious days with the maximum in the mid- to high- teens, and cold, wet and miserable days. The ground is covered with fallen leaves, only a few persimmons remain on my tree, and the days are becoming ridiculously short.
The azure-winged magpies are making their presence known with their calling out to each other and squabbling over fruit, but most other wildlife has switched off. The only praying mantises I’ve seen recently are dead ones, only a few jorogumo are left alive, and the vines that turn local forests into jungles in summer are rapidly dying and rotting.
I’ve also noticed that the number of visitors to Wild in Japan has petered off a little, but that my posts on raccoon dogs and snakes still seem to be the favourites… time to write about a snake!
I mentioned the Japanese keelback (Amphiesma vibakari vibakari) in my previous post, and would like to talk more about this fascinating animal. (I wanted more time to look at the specimen exhibited at the zoo, but got dragged away by the kids)
The Japanese keelback or Asian keelback is one of Japan’s smallest snakes. It has a natural range from Hokkaido to Kyushu and the immediately surrounding islands. A subspecies (Amphiesma vibakari danjoense) is found only on Oshima Island, Nagasaki Prefecture, while a third subspecies (A. v. ruthveni) is found in parts of China, Russia and the Korean Peninsula.
Growing to a maximum length of between 40 and 65 cm, the Japanese keelback feeds mostly on small fish, tadpoles, small frogs, and worms. They live in forests, and prefer areas around water – not at all surprising considering its diet. Japanese keelbacks are crepuscular – active around dawn and dusk – although they may become active during the daytime following rain.
Part of my interest in this snake was inspired by its local name, hibakari (日計 or sometimes 日量), which could be translated as “the measure of day” or “that day only”. Just as the tiger keelback was long thought harmless when it in fact possesses some of the most potent venom of any Japanese snake, the Japanese keelback was once believed to be venomous; a bite would cause the victim to die by the end of that day – hence the name. The Japanese keelback, in fact, does not possess venom.
I hope to get some photos to add to this post some day in the not-too-distant future.
November 14th is Saitama Prefecture Citizens Day, making it a day off for me. (Well, a day when there are no classes, but I have to take a paid holiday if I don’t want to go to work…)
The weather was fine and I decided to take the kids to Ueno Zoo. At only ￥600 for me and no admission fee for the kids, it was a relatively cheap day out.
I have mixed feelings about zoos. I would rather see animals in their natural environments, but that just isn’t possible. Modern zoos are improving their enclosures and keeping methods, and often play an important part of animal research and conservation. Would we know, or care, about the conservation status of pandas if we couldn’t see them in zoos?
Ueno houses the only pandas in Japan (I believe they are on lease from China), and that keeps visitors coming. Luckily there was little in the way of queues that day, despite the thousands of people there. I had ideas other than pandas, however…
…but no good photos to show for it. (The window style enclosures affect our camera’s ability to focus, plus I would be in real trouble if there were photos of animals and not kids)
I almost had my first encounter with a Japanese badger. I say almost because the critter was asleep in its shelter, only a patch of fur being visible. Also disappointing was the lack of marten and weasel displays. We were, however, able to see most of the other important Japanese mammals – the Hokkaido brown bear was particularly impressive, and was the favourite of a certain little boy.
We also had our first view of the masked palm civet, albeit from a distance – it was up a tree! Enclosures which display the animal in a close reproduction of its natural environment are most welcome. Some of the Japanese bird enclosures were also excellent, as was the squirrel cage. I just wish I could say the same for the larger birds of prey. (Admittedly, each one would need an enclosure roughly the size of the entire zoo to fully appreciate them, but they seemed so cramped)
The zoo had a special display (actually, a reboot of one they did a few years ago) on defences used by reptiles and amphibians. This one actually has some English explanations, but the zoo could do with a better proof-reader – “…these animals defense themselves…”
My special interest is local wildlife, so it was refreshing to see more Japanese reptiles and amphibians on display. A certain little boy was excited to see fire bellied newts just like the pair he has at home, while my interest was in the giant salamander and Japanese keelback snake.
The day was a little too short – I would have liked to arrive earlier, seen some of the other parts of Ueno Park, and stayed at the zoo longer. Still, given that my daughter said she would like to go again with her friends, that day may not be so far off.