A weekend in Singapore

Singapore is probably the only country that allows Sri Lankan passport holders to obtain a visa upon arrival, so, for me, it's one of the easiest places to visit. But, that's not the only reason I go there. I like the racial harmony that prevails (in contrast to the ethnic conflicts that have ravaged Sri Lanka), the wonderful cuisine, and the chance to speculate on what Sri Lanka might have been if only we had a Lee Kwan Yew. (Not that I admire his autocratic ruling style, but he eliminated corruption, tamed the out-of-control trade unions dominated by communists, and enforced racial harmony.) He actually had Ceylon (as Sri Lanka was then known) as his model when he set out to clean-up Singapore. Now, Singapore is almost a First World country while Sri Lanka has reached near bottom in the Third World.

Since I came to Hong Kong in 1995, I must have made five or six short visits to Singapore to attend conferences and also to visit friends. I stress the word "short" because after two or three days, the heat becomes unbearable and the Singlish spoken there drives me nuts. As an English teacher who has taught students from around the world and as an addict of CNN and BBC World News, I can tolerate most accents. But Singlish grates on my ears.

In the past, I usually land at Singapore around midnight and am driven to a hotel by a taxi driver. They all speak English (unlike the taxi drivers in Hong Kong) and invariably the first question is "Where are you from?" When they learn I am from Hong Kong (and therefore not a Singaporean police informer), the tirade against the Singaporean government begins. The taxi drivers, like many Singaporeans, simply hate their autocratic government and seem to relish every opportunity to voice their anger in the privacy of their cabs.

Last weekend's visit was different because I was met by Maria (not her real name) who teaches in Singapore and is the subject of a chapter in the book I am working on. So, officially, I was conducting "field research". She graciously invited me to stay with her on the beautiful Nanyang Technological Institute campus. We didn't discuss the book much but talked about every other subject under the sun and went out exploring the wonderful restaurants in Little India. Amazingly, I also accompanied Maria to Sunday service. I usually attend only Christmas mass but thought I should see how a Singaporean Catholic mass was like.


Conducting field research at the Banana Leaf Apollo restaurant

Of all the eating places in Little India, the place I wanted to revisit was the Banana Leaf Apollo restaurant. It's thus named because, as with most South Indian cuisine, you eat on a banana leaf. I enjoyed the Sri Lanka crab curry, masala prawn, fish cutlets, and biriyani rice washed down with the cool beer. Actually, despite being Sri Lankan, I am sensitive to spicy curries but the food at Banana Leaf is too good to miss.


South Indian men hanging out on a Sunday afternoon in Little India

I was also met with an amazing sight: thousands upon thousands f South Indian men hanging out on the Sunday afternoon in Little India. This was their weekly holiday and there may have been 50,000 of them. It reminded me of Statue Square in Hong Kong on a Sunday where the Filipino domestic helpers camp out. I wonder how little Singapore copes with such an influx of foreign labour. I am told that a large number of foreign house maids, also from India, Sri Lanka, and Indonesia, work in Singapore.

The local English newspaper is the Straits Times and all the headlines were about the economic meltdown. The local DBS Bank had just sacked 12,000 employees without notice and this was considered despicable, quite rightly. Despite is reputation, Singapore is not squeaky clean and Singaporeans can be as badly behaved as the typical Hong Konger. Take a look at the list of "ungracious acts" that appeared in the Straits Times under the title of "Ugly Singaporeans".

• not flushing toilets after use
• squeezing into crowded passenger lifts with shopping carts when there are cargo lifts nearby
• spitting
• beating the seat in the bus to cool it right after someone gets up
• not giving up seats to the elderly, the handicapped or pregnant women on the buses and MTR trains
• not turning off mobile phones in theatres
• cutting queues at taxi stands
• occupying more than one seat with shopping bags and handbags at food centres
• rushing into lifts and MTR trains before others step out

Note: When I returned to Hong Kong, a friend reminded me that she had seen the banana leaves being wiped with a dirty cloth (so that they could be reused) at a restaurant (not the Banana Leaf Apollo) in Little India. So, you might be better off requesting a plate to eat on.

Muslims, too, die for America

On the NBC channel's “Meet the Press”, former US Secretary of State Colin Powell endorsed Barack Obama for President. In his endorsement, Powell said he was troubled that some Republicans have been spreading rumors that Obama is a Muslim.

"Well, the correct answer is, he is not a Muslim, he’s a Christian. He’s always been a Christian. But the really right answer is, what if he is? Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country? The answer’s no, that’s not America. Is there something wrong with some seven-year-old Muslim-American kid believing that he or she could be president? Yet, I have heard senior members of my own party drop the suggestion, “He’s a Muslim and he might be associated terrorists.” This is not the way we should be doing it in America."

Powell went on to say that he feels strongly about this particular point because of a picture he saw in the The New Yorker magazine. He said it was "a photo essay about American troops who are serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. And one picture at the tail end of this photo essay was of a mother in Arlington Cemetery, and she had her head on the headstone of her son’s grave. And as the picture focused in, you could see the writing on the headstone. And it gave his awards—Purple Heart, Bronze Star—showed that he died in Iraq, gave his date of birth, date of death. He was 20 years old. And then, at the very top of the headstone, it didn’t have a Christian cross, it didn’t have the Star of David, it had crescent and a star of the Islamic faith. And his name was Kareem Rashad Sultan Khan, and he was an American. He was born in New Jersey. He was 14 years old at the time of 9/11, and he waited until he can go serve his country, and he gave his life." (The New Yorker online)

Here's the photo of Elsheba Khan taken at the grave of her son Kareen Rashad Sultan Khan. It was taken for The New Yorker by the photographer Platon at the Arlington National Cemetery.

Obama must win

Obama with his grandmother Sarah in 2006

I saw Barack Obama's grandmother being interviewed on BBC yesterday. She's 86 and was hoping to attend her grandson's inauguration in January. Sarah Hussein Obama lives a simple life in Kenya and was shucking some corn as she spoke.

What happens in the USA affects the world. During my lifetime, two men who would have been great Presidents did not make it, and we were the losers. In 1968, Robert Kennedy was assassinated and in 2000, Al Gore's election was stolen. I hope we'll be lucky the third time around.

Obama, with his soaring oratory, ability to inspire the young and old, and youthful energy is the only hope left. His grew up in a single family home, ran around on bare feet in Indonesia, and saw how his mother struggled with poverty and poor health. His half-sister, herself an Asian-American whose father was Indonesian, is married to an Asian-American who has roots in Malaysia. Barack Obama is truly a citizen of the world.

I'll be looking for Sarah Obama when watching Obama's inauguration from Hong Kong.

Prof. Charles Kao

Prof. Charles Kao

Last Friday, I was at the health center of the Chinese University for some tests when a slight man, dressed simply in a short-sleeved shirt and cotton pants, carrying a cloth bag with the logo of Academia Sinica, walked in. It was Prof. Charles Kao, the former Vice-Chancellor of the Chinese University. He stood patiently for his turn to be tested. Most of the students and staff who walked by did not appear to recognize him.

Prof. Kao was the VC when I joined the Chinese University in 1995. I met him informally only once and formally on a couple of occasions. He genial, unassuming personality was a pleasant change from the typical black-suited bureaucrat of the University. He had a reputation as a soft-spoken, amiable administrator who made no attempt to control meetings and gave a patient hearing to everyone.

This blog entry is not because Prof. Kao was our VC. He is a living legend, better known as the "father of fibre optics". In 2000, Asiaweek magazine chose the 6 Asians of the 20th century who by their life and work contributed most to the betterment of Asia in the previous 100 years. The recipients were Politics and Government Deng Xiaoping (China); Business and Economics Sony founder Morita Akio (Japan); Arts, Literature and Culture Film director Kurosawa Akira (Japan); Science and Technology Charles K. Kao (China/U.S.); Moral and Spiritual Leadership Mohandas K. Gandhi (India) [The Asian of the Century was also Gandhi.] Even at that time, Prof. Kao was the only living recipient of this rare honour.

Asiaweek's citation read:

Charles K. Kao. In 1966, Kao, then working in London, laid out the theoretical basis for the practical use of lasers and glass fibers in communications networks. He further established how to make optical fibers, how to connect them to lasers and how to join lengths together. Today optical fibers carry 80% [this was in 2000] of global long-distance telecommunications traffic, bringing the far corners of the world closer together and accelerating the arrival of the networked future.

In the past century, billions of Asians were born. Among them, just six were chosen to be honored, and one of them walks among us, leading a simple life, largely unrecognized for what he has contributed to our lives. (Think of him everytime you log on to the Internet.) Prof. Kao did not make any money from his invention; the patent went to ITT labs where he conducted his research.

For Asiaweek's feature, go to http://www-cgi.cnn.com/ASIANOW/asiaweek/features/

Sorry for not Blogging

This semester, I have "relief from teaching", which means I do not have to teach, although I do go to campus to attend meetings and to administer the MA program of which I am in charge. I have been granted the "relief" to finish a book which I have been working on since 2002.

The book is a sequel to two books I have edited since 1999 (see photo). The subject of both books is English teachers who are nonnative speakers of English. The first, Non-native Educators in English Language Teaching (1999), was the forerunner of the nonnative speaker movement. See http://nnest.asu.edu/ for more of that. The book contained chapters written mainly by teacher-scholars in the USA. All are nonnative speakers of English. The second book, Teaching English to the World (2005), contains chapters written by English teachers from 15 countries. These teachers are also nonnative speakers of English.

The next book, the one I am working on, will be authored by me. I hope to recall the achievements of the nonnative speaker movement and summarize the research that has been conducted on this yopic up to now. I don't have a title yet, but work on about 4 chapters is complete. Although I work at home, I do have distractions such as e-mail and the Internet. On some days, I write 5 pages. On other days, it could only be one paragraph.

I have also been editing my father's autobiography, and updating them on a blog titled "Teddy Braine's Memories." I have to edit the entries carefully as my father's writing is not well organized. In fact, I edit two versions of the entries, one for the blog and the second for a Sunday newspaper in Sri Lanka, which has already published two excerpts. The latest can be read at

http://www.lakbimanews.lk/mag/mag1.htm

Life goes on.

"My Father's Memories" have been moved

The above entries have been moved to http://teddybraine.blogspot.com/

Hail! "Long Hair"

I haven't voted at an election since 1977 (that's more than 30 years ago!) because I have not been in Sri Lanka during a general elections since then. But, in addition to being a news junkie, I am also a political junkie, in a small way, and Hong Kong politics interest me greatly. As a permanent resident, I am eligible to vote here in the New Territories East constituency, and I couldn't wait till September 7 to cast my vote for Long Hair.

Why Long Hair? He's the most principled, down to earth politician in Hong Kong, fighting for poor people, never fearing the wrath of the administration, the pro-business Liberal Party, the boot licking, Beijing-leaning politicians, and is notable for his Che Guevara T-shirt instead of the dark suits that most politicians prefer. He lives in a tiny public council flat and keeps only about US$1,000 of his salary, giving the rest away for good causes. (I think a Legco member makes about HK$60,000 [US$7,500] per month.)

Long hair does have a name: it's Leung Kwok-hung, and he got 44,763 votes (one of them mine!), enough to make him the second highest vote getter in the constituency and ensuring him four more years in Legco. Donald Tsang, our Chief Executive, and the pro-business lobbies must be sweating, more so because two more members of Long Hair's party (including one nicknamed "Mad Dog") won Legco seats. We are in for interesting times.

A Long Hair poster

Long Hair at home

One of Long Hair's biggest fans is Daisann McLane, whose wonderful blog "Learning Cantonese" http://daisann.com/ chronicles the election campaign of Long Hair. In fact, Daisann went to the extent of doing some street campaigning for him, passing out leaflets in Tai Po and becoming a human billboard in Sai Kung. All the photos here have been "borrowed"from her blog site.

Daisann becomes a "human billboard" in Sai Kung

Update on Mandy & Snoopy

Fawzia returned yesterday from a holiday in the US and brought news and photos of Mandy & Snoopy. They were our dogs who were given to Miriam when Fawzia left the US about 10 years

ago. Miriam lives near Washington, DC.

Here's Miriam with Mandy and Snoopy. Miriam was a History professor in Arkansas but now lives in DC near her parents.

The dogs must be close to 15 years old. Their health isn't good, and Snoopy had back surgery recently, which cost US$5,000, and enormous amount by any standard.

Here's Mandy. She appears to have lost the black and tan patches she had and seems to have become entirely white.

A Ballad Of Pak Tam Chung

By Patrick Ng

Hakka folk of Sheung Yiu
Hailed from Guandong’s Danshui, farther afield
In the days of yore
Wedlock united clans of different locales -
“Sense of place” came to the fore
In how the union was known by all.
Settling in Pak Tram Chung, the Hakka
Were amicable with the seafaring Tanka.
Radios were to the latter a boon
Only since the early sixties, in case of typhoons. (10)
Batteries were bought from Sai Kung bazaar
(Transmission really ranged that far)
As the then colonial government
Needed to make various announcements.
Pak Tam Chung was humid and hot.
And in summers past, grandma’s lot
At night was to fan children to sleep
After which her own slumber wasn’t deep
As smothered inside stuffy mosquito nets
With no plumbing or electricity just yet (20)
The weather was the be-all and end-all
Rustics were at nature’s beck and call.
Solace in religion was sought
And Roman Catholicism coexisted with folk faiths
As villages of different persuasions wrought
A rural chapel, also shrines of another spiritual way.
Sai Kung was the Catholic fathers’ earliest base
In Hong Kong, where, in Cantonese, they presented their case
So, Yin Tin Tsai island had its old chapel, bearing witness
To a history of worship and church largesse (30)
Flour and schooling for fisher folk-poor, but good Catholics nonetheless.
In village life, strife was rare -
Save bickering between mother and daughter-in-law;
And gambling troubles for me there.
Gossip filled the leisure hours-jaw-jaw
About weddings and funerals, the usual fare.
A corpse would be buried for years five or seven
After which the bones-“gold” in local jargon -
Would be exhumed and to an urn transferred:
An umbrella would be held over the grave when it occurred. (40)
“Pray, time to get up” would be intoned
Air and sun would dry the spread-out bones
Before consigning of “gold” to a new, portable home.
Dry-soil burial-plots were deemed premium,
To ensure an eventual clean-picked outcome.
Of course, “Feng Shui” plots were keenly sought -
Except by the Catholic clan of Sheung You, who had a Christian God.
“Ching Ming” in late Spring was not observed-
Though “Chung Yeung” was when dog and chicken meat were served
To filial progeny honouring their ancestors. (50)
Chickens roamed everywhere in the outdoor quarters,
Odour of avian feces was the order of the day,
Droppings for fertilizer would be scooped up and saved;
Ash at the stove would be mixed with human “produce”,
Pre-eminently eligible for a similar use.
Daily regimen entailed rising before the sun did,
Supper at five, and eight would mandate sleepy eyelids.
Babbling brooks in the vicinity,
Would be used to do laundry;
Men would take their baths there - (60)
But for reasons of modesty,
“Bath enclosures” womenfolk would require
Indoors, to where they would retire.
Soap bars were available at the bazaar,
Bathwater was heated at the stove in winter,
Firewood would be turned to cinders –
As collectables from the hillsides thither.
A single village school, “Pui Choi Primary”
Educated children in the vicinity;
But for education at secondary level, (70)
To Kowloon or downtown Sai Kung they had to travel.
Public health was overseen
By Springtime’s government vaccination teams;
Diseases were treated by folk experience -
The Chinese herbal deliverance.
Big-bus service commenced in the fifties,
Servicing the section from “Yau Lei Store”
To the pier in Kowloon City;
Public light bus was to follow, a decade later,
What is now “Wong Chun Chun Thai Restaurant” it did reach, (80)
To closer ties between Kowloon City and Sai Kung it did cater –
Goods were traded, such as animal feed,
Between the two townships, to meet a mutual need,
Many Hakka settled in Kowloon City,
Also Chiu Chow traders, prominent in rice commodity;
Commerce besides in poultry-farming and agricultural produce;
Also kerosene, and stoves for its use.
Cordial business relations between Chiu Chow and Hakka,
With Cantonese serving as their Lingua Franca –
Transport links had enabled the brisk barter. (90)
Further back in time, things were far grimmer –
Wartime tumult saw determined local guerillas
Struggle against Japanese occupiers
Who, once, Sheung Yiu village commandeered
For barracks, though control of Sai Kung wasn’t keenly sought –
With an implacable hostile populace, a war was better not fought
Over land of limited strategic import.
The will of the occupiers was lukewarm
In Sai Kung, where even the then colonial Governor
Had briefly hid, in the wake of the invasion storm - (100)
Sir Mark Young had the support of the “East River” Militia,
Whose spirit was, decades later, to be memorialized
In stone at a calmer, scenic Tai Ming Tsai.


(February 11, 2004)

Patrick Ng

When I first moved to the Pak Tam Chung area of Sai Kung in 2000, I used to walk more often in the Country Park. A regular stop during these walks was the small Sheung Yiu Folk Museum, where I would meet Patrick, the museum keeper. There were few visitors, so we had time to chat. Patrick had been an English major at the University of Hong Kong (I am not sure if he graduated) and told me that he once won first prize at a short story competition conducted by the South China Morning Post newspaper. Patrick would talk about the history of the area and once took me to nearby abandoned villages and grave sites. Naturally, we came to know some personal details about each other.

Patrick was single and lived with his elderly mother some distance from Sai Kung. He had never used a computer and I am not sure if he could type. He wasn't the typical civil servant, instead going out of his way to welcome visitors. With an assistant, he did his best to keep the museum clean. One day, he told me that a "control freak"supervisor was at his heels, complaining that he wasn't up to his job. He said that both his job and his pension were threatened. So, a friend and I wrote to the authorities praising Patrick for the fine job that he was doing. We pulled a little rank, stating that we were teachers at local universities.

Patrick wrote to me and I reproduce the letter below because he makes interesting references to my appearance! Along with the letter, he sent me a (handwritten) poem that he had composed titled "A Ballad of Pak Tam Chung" and I have typed it into the next entry. Patrick told me that the letters we wrote saved his job, and I am so glad I could do this small favour to a simple, unassuming man who asked for so little and was doing the best at his job.

I haven't seen Patrick during my recent visits and when I do, I'll get his photo.

Meanwhile, here's his letter:

11 Feb 2004

Dear Professor George,

On Monday (9th) my boss brought me the photocopies of both your recommendation letter and the one written by Dr. Miho Yorozu. They came as very warm and encouraging affirmations. I remember that morning as a very fine and sunny, bright day after one of the severest and longest cold spells in HK since records began. I am deeply indebted.

Enclosed overleaf please find my rendition of the lore of Pak Tam Chung, possible for your amusement, as well as that of anyone who might be interested.

Your surname, Braine, I often confuse with the name of the famous American magician David Blaine, because to my mind, making your acquaintance has looked like "stranger than fiction". You have a bulbous forehead, and this prominent brain looks like that of Arthur C. Clarke, another egghead, pundit and resident of Sri Lanka.

. . .



Sheung Yiu Folk Museum

The Yorozu Family

The Yorozus have been my hosts in Hokkaido & Nakashibetsu during my four visits over the past 12 years. I came to know them through Miho, who was my student in Alabama in the early 1990s.



Miho is pictured with her parents in the above photo. Mr. & Mrs. Yorozu owned a fashionable and obviously prosperous clothing store in Nakashibetsu and are now in retirement. The store is now run by their son Kazuo and his wife Emiko. More about them later.

Mr. Yorozu is 84 years now and in very good health. He was the President of the local Chamber of Commerce and is known and respected in Nakashibetsu. He has a healthy appetite, is an avid gardener and a mini-golf player and loves to drive; any excuse for an errand will get him out of the house.

As a young man, he had been drafted to the army during the last year of World War II and sent to the Korean front. He says the war was over when he got there and managed to return to Japan under severe hardship after the Japanese army surrendered.



The Yorozu home

According to Miho, Mrs. Yorozu was the mainstay of the family, managing the shop and running the family. Mrs. Yorozu would travel to Tokyo, Kobe, and Osaka in the old days to buy merchandise for the store. There were no flights to Nakashibetsu and the tunnel linking Hokkaido to the southern islands in Japan had not been built. Wearing the traditional kimono and hiding cash in her obi (the kimono sash), Mrs. Yorozu would travel changing from train to bus to ferry 12 times on each buying trip. Now she spends her time making simple ceramics and tending to her garden, although a bad back has slowed her down somewhat.




Mr. Yorozu in the garden, planting Chinese cabbage


Tomato plants in the greenhouse


Corn

The kitchen garden, as in many Japanese homes, supplies vegetables to the household and also for distribution to friends and relatives. On this visit, I saw zucchini, tomatoes, cucumber, green onions, corn and other vegetables growing healthily. These vegetables are grown organically.

Miho with her dad at Cape Kiriteppu

Kazuo is Miho's brother. (Her older sister Yuko lives in Sapporo.) A big man who loves his food and drink and the father of four children, Kazuo is a town councillor. The local election campaign was in full swing during my visit, and I photographed him at his "election headquarters" at the back of their shop. The labels on the wall behind him indicate the names of people who have donated sake to his campaign. (I am told that cash donations are illegal.) The sake is exchanged for beer at a friendly bar for the consumption of campaign workers. I have a feeling that this is more a party than an election campaign.



This is Kazuo's fifth election campaign. The posters in the photo are from his successive campaigns. His son Kazu had come from Tokyo to help with the campaign. During the Summer Festival, he was seen everywhere in town, making use of the opportunity. He has already won four times and we heard yesterday (August 26) that he had won again, coming ninth out of 22 candidates for the 18 seats available. He's a senior member of the Town Council. I am told he's paid well and already assured a nice pension, having served three terms. If he serves six terms (each term is four years), he's in for a more generous pension!



This is Kazuo's wife Emiko. The photo is taken in front of their shop after Emiko had taken part in the Summer Festival Parade. Emiko and Kazuo met at university and she moved to Nakashibetsu after her marriage. She runs the store, which, unfortunately, is not doing well because of the competition from larger department stores. She has brought up four lovely children: Shingo, now working in Tokyo; Kazu, attending university in Tokyo; Saiko, a nurse in Nakashibetsu; and Shoko, in medical school in Sapporo.


Miho, wth her mother and niece Saiko


The Yorozu shrine in Akkeshi

The Yorozu family shrine is in the home of a nephew in Akkeshi, and we visited it during my stay in Nakashibetsu.

Sightseeing - Akan National Park area

Mrs. Yorozu wanted to take me to a new restaurant she had heard about and I was happy to drive because it was in the Akan national Park area. I had been to this volcanic park on two previous visits and its winding roads, rushing streams, charming lakes, and mist shrouded hills had lingered on my mind. Akan National Park is about the size of Hong Kong.

We stopped by at an observation point on the way and the photo shows Mrs. Yorozu and her daughter Miho enjoying the breeze.

We drove through lovely farms, pastureland, and forest. The fields were of potato, corn, soy beans, and other crops. Some fields were ripening and ready for harvesting, while many were still green. The roads were not crowded and many dirt roads led off into the forest. If I had a 4 x 4 vehicle, I would have liked to have explored them, but these forests have bears (there have been more than 30 fatal bear attacks in Hokkaido over the years) so I didn't want to venture on foot.

Another feature along the drive were these attractive farm signs, all of which featured a scene of the lakes or of the hills .

We glimpsed the "So-Ra" restaurant through the trees. It turned out to be an elegant French restaurant, recently opened, where even the menu was in French and Japanese. We enjoyed a leisurely meal (I tasted a sliver of whale meat!) and later strolled in the lovely green that spread out from the restaurant. I hope the restaurant attracts many customers because the cuisine and service are of the highest standard.

We drove on and reached Lake Kussharo, a popular tourist spot. (The Akan National Park is said to receive 6 million tourists per year, although the roads were not crowded with traffic.) Kussharo is a caldera lake, surrounded by greenery and hills.

We lingered for quite a while, enjoying the lovely scenery, the breeze, and the silence.

We later drove to the shore of lake Kussharo. As dusk approached, a light mist hung over the water. This shore area appeared to be popular with hikers and bikers. Many of them were camping nearby.

Our last stop was the incredibly beautiful Lake Mashu, which is said to have the most transparent water in the world. This is also a caldera lake. There is no inflow or outflow of water, yet the water level remains constant.

Sightseeing - Kaiyodai

Kaiyodai is only 10kms from Nakashibetsu and an observatory is located there. Because it's at a higher elevation, miles and miles of countryside could be seen all round. Kaiyodai is perfect for watching the sunset. It's popular with Japanese bikers and cyclists who tour Hokkaido in the summer, and they have a camping site nearby.

To one side is a farm run by the city council, which accepts Holstein calves from nearby farms and takes care of them for eventual return to the farm as milking cows. Holsteins are an European breed that has thrived in Japan. A lovely path winds down from the highest point into the farm. Although it has more than 1,000 steps, the walk is relaxing as it wanders over streams and wooden bridges.

The sunset from Kaiyodai is breathtaking.

Sightseeing around Nakashibetsu

I have inserted the map to show where Nakashibetsu is situated, on the eastern side of Hokkaido near the Kuril Islands. The drive and train ride from Sapporo takes a whole day; the flight only 40 minutes.

During my visits, I drive around Nakashibetsu to sight see as well as enjoy the wonderful seafood. The roads are not crowded with traffic and the drivers are polite and obey the rules. The only danger is that the beautiful scenery tempts my eyes away from the road!

This month, I did a 20-minute drive to the small seaside town of Shibetsu to see the salmon hatchery. Hokkaido is full of salmon rivers and salmon fishing is a major industry. The hatchery catches salmon returning to lay their eggs, fertilizes the eggs with sperm taken from male fish, and releases the fingerling to the nearby Shibetsu River. These fingerling, in due course, return to the hatchery.

View of the salmon hatchery

We later drove towards the town of Nemuro along the lovely seaside. The land is marshy here, is preserved, and full of wildflowers. The landscape seen at the background of the above photo is one of the Kuril Islands, which now belongs to Russia. And thereby hangs a tale.

The Kuril Islands (the Japanese call them the Northern Territories) were captured by the Soviet army during World War II from Japan and not returned. This is a sore point with the Japanese, especially those living on east Hokkaido. They erect large billboards along the road asking for the return of the "occupied islands". Strangely, these signs are in English and Japanese, not in Russian. But, Russian fisherman do visit these parts, and the large signboard I am standing next to has information in Japanese, English, and Russian.

We learned about a jazz concert by one of Japan's foremost saxophonists, Sadao Watanabe, and returned a few days later to Shibetsu to attend the performance. The concert would have been enjoyable without the loud, manic drumming of the Senegalese drummer in the Quintet!