The Official Tottori Newsletter for January 2021

What does the arrival of a New Year bring to Tottori? Take a look below to see this month's featured sites, spots, activities, and tastes!

   

 The Official Tottori Newsletter for December 2020

Check out the newsletter posted below for information on some of the best winter season sightseeing in Tottori.

 

Ametuchi: A Special Train in a Land of Myth

A c. 1885 CE illustration of Izanami (left) and Izanagi (right) creating the islands of Japan with their spear.

“When heaven and earth began…”

These words form the opening sentence of Japan’s oldest extant literary work, the; in the original text, “heaven and earth” are represented by kanji characters read as ametuchi.  Written around 711, it chronicles mythical gods and demons from the dawn of time in Japan, and many of these legends took place in the San’in region. For a sightseeing train that runs through this land steeped in myth and a cradle of early civilization, much the way the opening sentence prepared its readers for the legendary tales to come, the name of Ametuchi expresses a point of embarkation for a memorable journey.  

Native Japanese 

Pride in heritage: even while so many nations march onward with necks stiffened and eyes fixated on things to come, a sense of debt and desire to discharge it dutifully compels the people of Japan — to stop. Then, perched atop mossy rocks of ruined castle ramparts and under shaded approaches to forgotten shrines, they drop ancestral lines into the deep dark of history moats and wells; they know that the oldest well hides the most discoveries. 

Exterior of Ametuchi

This mytho-historic sensibility inspired nearly every aspect of Ametuchi’s design: the azure exterior represents the sky and sea of San’in while the silver design wrapped around the bottom imitates both the temper pattern of a Japanese sword blade smelted in a tatara (traditional furnace) and the mountain ranges of San’in; overtop all of this, a metallic finish gives expression to the divine atmosphere.

Amaterasu emerges from the Heavenly Rock Cave (Shunsai Toshimasa, 1887)

Folk Crafts on the Move

Inside, nearly everything mundane, utilitarian, and entirely expected of public transportation has been transformed into cultural crafts in a mythical motif. Overhead, colorfully dyed Inshu washi (traditional paper) adds an elegant tint and sense of mystique to the ambient lighting. On walls, indigo-dyed Kasuri and other traditional textiles decorate partitions. The restaurant style tables for four, two, and outward facing counter seats were all crafted from Japanese cedar and pine grown in the region. In this train, even the sink is a ceramic work of art from a local kiln.

                                                    Kagura costume miniature (Kagura Shop Kuwanoki)

Edible History 

Onboard services include meals produced to perfectly meld with the Native Japanese atmosphere; depending on the direction of travel, whether from Tottori to Izumo or the reverse, meal choices feature local specialties arranged in an artistic representation of the point of departure. As an example, the Ametsuchi Gozen Yoake lunch box expresses an amalgamation of the mythological worldview of the Kojiki and the picturesque scenery of San’in. For a more decadent option, the Oenosato Sweet Set offers seasonal pudding and roll cakes made with farm-fresh ingredients and no additives.

Ametuchi Gozen Yoake lunch box

Scenery

 Over the course of 154.3 km, Ametuchi travels through some of the most scenic regions in all of Japan. The rails run close to the coastline and lakeshores, and north facing windows offer views of the Sea of Japan, Nakaumi, and Lake Shinji; on the south side are spectacular views of Mt. Daisen, the tallest peak in the region, along with the rest of the rugged Chugoku mountain range.  

Since the tracks traverse wide swaths of rice paddies, pierces through bamboo thickets, and runs parallel to primeval beech forests, each season colors the world beyond the window in its own vivid hues. In contrast, the farm villages tucked into mountain roots and fishing communities lining the coast elude the passage of time and appear as if unchanged from their construction hundreds of years ago.     

 

Details

Information on Ametuchi tickets and service schedule can be found here: https://www.westjr.co.jp/global/en/train/ametuchi/.  

 

 

Japan’s Oldest Triathlon Goes Decimal

 

The Year of Tomeru

Every year in Japan since 1995 there is a vote to choose one kanji character that best represents the events of that year; for 2020, I’d like to nominate “止”（read as tomeru, literally “stop,”） as a worthy candidate. This year, even before the cherry blossoms had a chance to attract crowds of admirers, thick clouds of tomeru swarmed the wireless waves like mosquitos at a lakeside barbeque; at home, television and internet cables spewed them forth in great black spurts; and in the public square, big fat ones rested lazily atop colorful event posters.

 

Shock and a sense of loss accompanied the first incidence of seeing a tomeru fixed atop the name of an anticipated event like a cheap tombstone; now, with an entire year’s worth of events likewise buried, and much in the manner that an individual grave appears less tragic when seen from the vantage of a hilltop overlooking a vast cemetery, spectators have grown numb to the spectacle. Even the events, it seems, have come to accept this little piece of fate and last twist of the knife — they go without a whimper.    

 

At this juncture, I should make clear that my purpose is not to explore the cause of this tomeru pandemic nor consider its necessity; rather, I wish to use it as a backdrop and a stage for Japan’s oldest and hardest triathlon.

 

The Birth of Kaike Triathlon

Back in 1981, members of the Kaike Inn Union gathered to plan a suitable special event for the 60^th anniversary of the Kaike Onsen, a beachfront Japanese style hot spring resort. Situated on a coastline of white sandy beaches and giant black pines, Kaike Onsen had already established a nation-wide reputation as a health spot: the hot water of its hot springs sooth a wide variety of ailments and the shimmering waters of the Sea of Japan invigorate. They therefore concluded to build upon this brand identity by creating an event that epitomizes incredible health while also utilizes the picturesque natural surroundings.

 

What they brought into existence not only adequately achieved their purpose, but also would gradually develop into a completely new identity for Kaike Onsen that has now, by some standards, eclipsed the old. On August 20^th 1981 at 7:00 a.m., 51 men and 2 women took part in Japan’s first triathlon.

 

 

Molding Tetsujin

Since its humble beginnings, the race has grown to such a gigantic proportion that it attracts over 1,600 applicants from all over Japan vying for the maximum 940 individual and 80 relay team slots. At first glance, this may not seem like an especially large number, but taking into consideration the nature of the task, it certainly should.

 

The race opens with athletes in the Sea of Japan where they battle waves, currents, and crowds in an open water 3 km swim (120 lengths of a standard 25 meter swimming pool) along the coastline. Returning to shore, drenched athletes peel off wetsuits and trade goggles for cycling glasses and set out on a 140 km odyssey that takes them along river levee roads, through large swaths of wetland rice fields, up 1,800 meters worth of elevation at Mt. Daisen, and through shady tunnels created by leafy branches of old growth beach forests. Finally, the cycling shoes come off, and on come the running shoes, and athletes embark on the final leg of the journey: a full marathon. This 42.195 km course begins in Kaike Onsen, continues along the Sea of Japan into the city of Sakaiminato, and then turns back towards Yonago and the finish line located on a 400 m track in a large athletics park.

 

If all of this still doesn’t sound difficult enough, well then! here comes the best part: the competition is held in the middle of July when temperatures reliably exceed 34 degrees! This is not an accident; in fact, enduring Japan’s iconic summer sun is considered such an integral part of the challenge that it inspired the competition’s moniker as “Red Hot Kaike”.         

 

Feel confident you can reach the finish line? A resolute “Yes” is the absolute minimum requirement (there are many more requirements) for even thinking of signing up. Even then, many challengers can tell you from experience that saying is one thing and doing something else entirely: 20% that start the race do not finish. Those that do complete this race within the time limit rightfully earn the title of tetsujin (literally “iron human”).  

 

Tetsujin Vs. Tomeru

The slogan of Kaike Triathlon is “Brave and True”, and under this banner many thousands of men and women have gathered to test themselves in a ritual that demands both. In the seas off the coast of Kaike Onsen where they swam, on the roads winding the foot of Mt. Daisen where they cycled, and on the streets of Sakaiminato where they ran, sweat from the burning bodies of these tetsujin has fallen; like sadness shed with every tear, the will to overcome spilled out in sweat. Over the years, this indomitable spirit has seeped into more than just the land and sea along the course.

 

This year should have marked the 40^th anniversary of the competition, and the organizers had planned on making it a race worthy of the milestone; however, government measures and public pressure to completely stem the spread of a contagion necessitated action, or, perhaps more accurately, inaction. With hearts of lead, tetsujin watched as even this legendary race began corroding under intense pressure into a “retire” before finishing, a “did not run”, and a red-lettered “tomeru”. The integrity of this historical competition and the spirit deposited in it fell into question.

 

Happily, it is a spirit that doesn’t like bending, and many of the organizers — tetsujin themselves — possess it. Unwilling to admit complete defeat to tomeru, they came up with an audacious counteroffensive called the 39.5^th Kaike Triathlon.

 

How is Kaike 39.5 Different?

More than what it is, it is what it isn’t that defines 39.5. First, it is not a full-blown competition: no awards await the fastest athletes in each category. Second, the main adversary is not oneself: the distance and difficulty of each stage have been greatly reduced. Third, it isn’t a surrender in the recently popular Orwellian manner of “not losing” by “not trying”: it is a defiant “no” to tomeru and a signpost to another way. 

 

The competition still begins with swimming; however, unlike prior years, all 1,000 athletes don’t start in one large flotilla upon the waves of the Sea of Japan. Instead, each athlete completes a 2 km swim on an individual basis and self-declares the result before arriving on race day.

 

Next, the cycling portion has also undergone a transformation. Instead of traversing the 140 km road course, athletes set up their bicycle on stationary rolling devices spread out across a grassy field. Then, at the starter’s signal, they peddle an equivalent of 50 km. Peddling in place means that athletes encounter no air resistance — a double-edged sword. Though high rotation speeds are easier to maintain, the cooling factor of actually moving at high speed is gone. So that athletes don’t overheat, volunteers circulate and spray them with ice water.

 

Third, besides the course, the run remains largely unchanged. Athletes still begin as soon as completing the cycling stage by dismounting, changing shoes, and heading towards the start line. For 39.5, the course takes them down a 16 km seaside cycling trail that connects Kaike Onsen to Yume Minato Tower and then back for a total of 32 km. Closed to traffic, the route is flat with magnificent views of the Sea of Japan, white sandy beaches, Japanese black pine forests, and, towering in the distance, Mt. Daisen.

 

Finally, the largest difference between 39.5 and all of the previous iterations happens at the finish line: when each athlete crosses, they turn and commend the organizers and volunteers for their audacious bravery.  

 

Ginei Kenshibu and the Greatest Duel in Japanese History

 

What is Ginei?

Ginei refers to a Japanese form of poetry recitation. The poem that will be discussed in this article is a kanshi poem (Japanese term for Chinese poetry as well as Japanese poetry written in Chinese) composed by Rai San'yo and titled “Fushikian Strikes at Kizan”. Here is the poem in Japanese with a full explanation of both the contents and context provided in the sections to follow.

 

不識庵機山を撃つの図に題す

 

鞭聲粛々夜河を過る

暁に見る千兵の大牙を擁するを

遺恨十年一剣を磨き

流星光底長蛇を逸す

 

Fushikian is the posthumous Buddhist name of Uesugi Kenshin, a powerful samurai lord of a domain called Echigo in northern Japan (Today’s Niigata Prefecture). Kizan is the posthumous Buddhist name of Takeda Shingen, a powerful samurai lord of a domain called Kai in central Japan (Today’s Yamanashi Prefecture). These two heroes and their armies fought in a total of five engagements at the famous site of Kawanakajima (1553 to 1564). This poem is composed in the form of a sympathetic exploration of the state of mind of Kenshin based upon the composer’s vast knowledge of Japanese history.

 

What is Kenshibu?

Kenshibu is a traditional dance holding a sword or a fan performed to the accompaniment of Ginei. The performer is expected to exhibit the samurai mentality as well as the spirit of one who has dedicated their life to the way of the warrior – just like Kenshin.

 

Tell Me the Tale of the Greatest Duel in Japanese History!

In the dying hours of the starless night of October 18^th 1561, Uesugi Kenshin, lord of Echigo, leads a vanguard of horseback samurai warriors across the Chikuma River. With cloth tied on the bottom of their horse’s hooves and riding whips silent, they stalk through the dark like an army of northern tigers on the prowl, and their prey is Takeda Shingen, lord of Kai, camped with his army at Kawanakajima.

 

At the Takeda camp, a lookout glances an indistinct shape moving beyond a veil of mist that hangs across the damp earth of the riverbank like a curtain and he strains with all his might to determine whether it’s only his imagination or not. At that moment, dawn stretches her arm out across the horizon and through the mist, and the lookout spots the Echigo cavalry charging towards him while arrayed tightly around their general’s standard. Frantic calls to arm pull Takeda’s sleeping forces from their tents and scrambling into defensive formations.

 

The rushing waves of cavalry smash into Kai’s camp: spears snap, swords clang, and bones crack as waves of horseback samurai wash over Kai’s hastily assembled lines. From all around, Kai reinforcements let loose a savage roar of battle as they pour headlong into the fray; bloodied men fall screaming to the mud, and an all-encompassing cacophonous din of war soars into the red dawn sky.   

 

Into the very vortex of this tempest of steel, flesh, and blood rides Kenshin with such reckless abandon as to take both armies by surprise. With single-minded determination, he rushes into a breach in the enemy lines and, with enemy soldiers closing in on all sides, races for the enemy command post. Bursting into Kai’s field headquarters, he charges the last few meters separating him from Shingen who sits in his general’s chair wearing full samurai armor and a look of genuine surprise.

 

Kenshin raises his sword and summons the righteous fury of Bishamonten, the Buddhist god of war; the blade — polished to a mirror — reflects the leaping flames of the brazier to appear as if wreathed in flame. Shingen, caught completely off guard, leaps to his feet as the flaming sword streaks like a shooting star towards the root of his neck; he manages to fend off the strike with the only thing he has ready — his iron war fan. Their eyes lock: Shingen reaches for his sword as Kenshin readies a second strike, but a Takeda warrior spears Kenshin’s mount which causes it to flee.   

 

The duel ends inconclusively, but the battle rages on until the number of corpses from both armies littering the field makes any further fighting difficult. Seeing the staggering amount of death, Kenshin decides the cost of victory unacceptable and orders a retreat.

 

Later, while marching back to Echigo with his remaining warriors, the weight of regret seems to grow heavier the further he moves from the battlefield. For Kenshin, ten long years of war had culminated in that one precious opportunity to resolve his longstanding grudge against Shingen; in one brilliant flash, the chance disappeared forever.   

What Does the Poem Mean?

Kanshi poetry is difficult to accurately translate into English. Below is an approximation of the poem.

 

Fushikian Strikes at Kizan

 

Horse whips silent, river forged at night

At dawn see the General’s banner lead thousands of warriors 

A grudge of ten year’s standing to polish one sword

Brilliant as a shooting star falls harmlessly into dark