Prologue

The principal research activity developed by the PO&SR Division in 1948 and early 1949 consisted of preparations for a major attitude survey to be done on a national sample, of conceptions of what at the time was called the "population problem." This "problem" was based on discussions by Japanese and also SCAP people of precisely how Japan was to manage her growing population--added to by repatriates from the former conquered territories--now that territorial expansion was barred as a consequence of defeat. Clearly contraception and abortion were part of the issue, and questions pertaining to these methods of controlling growth were prominent in the staff thinking and in the draft questionnaires.

Fieldwork was called for, and the first of these ventures was made in Hokkaido, the northern island province, and the most recent part of the archipelago to have been settled and developed for agriculture and urbanism. Agricultural technical assistance had been given by Americans in the late 19th century, and portions of the Hokkaido landscape still resembled U.S. rural areas, what with barns, silos, small wooden farmhouses, and the like. The purpose of the trip was to survey economic conditions in Hokkaido and the spatial capacity of the island, looking toward the event that further migration from the more southerly islands was to take place. And in general, we were concerned with public attitudes toward the "population problem" and measures to combat it--assuming, of course that there really was a "problem." Actually population pressure is a relative thing, and at the time of the study, the Japanese evinced no significant fear or apprehension of a demographic problem--although the scholars and pundits dwelt on it.

Our trip to Hokkaido was also exploratory with respect to the Ainu population. These people--the aboriginal inhabitants of part of the Japanese islands, preceding the later Asian migrations--had a socioeconomic status approximating that of the more impoverished American Indian populations in North America. I was interested in the Ainu, since they were one of the standard tribal peoples studied in ethnology courses in universities the world over. Their fascination rested in part on the fact that they apparently represented an early population with mingled "racial" characteristics, but with no clear-cut affiliations to the standard classical anthropological racial stock classifications.

On the way back from Hokkaido, we took a side trip to northwestern Honshu to visit a number of villages in what the Japanese call yuki no kuni (snow country). The travels are illustrated by five photographs of the village of Egari, including a picture the main street showing how the heavy snow requires a kind of separate house structure on top of the lower story. That is, the snow fills the street and goes all the way up to the second story.

The Hokkaido trip is represented in this portfolio primarily by photos of the Ainu. Other topics are represented in the Journal Extracts, and the "Resorts" portfolio Number 10, which resound with the echoes of tourism. Hokkaido in the 1940s was a frontier landscape and society; it was a privilege to have seen it before its subsequent development. I have also included my report on the "population problem" aspect of the field trip.

Journal Extract: From Tomakomai, Hokkaido

I'm writing this from a room in a large private club, run by a large paper mill here (Oji Paper Co.). We got in from Sapporo about 10am, after a ghastly ride in a local train--which means filth and hard wooden benches. Left about eight.

The trip began uneventfully, with a long ride in the train beginning in Tokyo Wednesday night, lasting all day Thursday, Thursday night and finally in Sapporo early Friday morning. The scenery of northern Honshu is nothing special, except for a couple of large volcanoes shaped like Fuji but not as big. When you ride on a train any distance the endless monotony of tiny fields and thatched-roof houses begins to get you. Actually the farther north you go in Japan the more "middle western" the country gets. By this I mean both natural and social ecology--the environment gets less tropical and more northern-temperate, and at the same time the habitation gets more recent, which means more Western. In Hokkaido one finds a completely middle-west landscape, with the farms laid out in rectangles, with roads in a grid, and with almost completely Western type houses. It was a shock to see a typical "open-country neighborhood" rural vista. Hokkaido was settled last, and most of it was actually laid out by American agricultural scientists and economists.

In the meantime I have been to Piratori, a village about two hours by train from here, and a center of Ainu life--about 1500 Ainu and 10,000 Japanese. We stayed at a Western style house built years ago by old man Munro, an English doctor and anthropologist to the Ainu and a famous man in his day. House now owned by a well-off Japanese. Right next to the house was one of the Ainu hamlets, and spent most of the day there--along with camp followers. The trouble with trips like this in Japan is that you are the royal guests of the government, and as you travel you collect hangers-on. We already have a representative of the Hokkaido prefectural governor and a nice old Episcopal minister (Japanese) with us, and at Piratori we also had the mayor, three other village government officials, our host and a collection of other people whose role I didn't catch clearly. Tomorrow thank god we lose the prefectural government man, but the old minister sticks with us to the bitter end! (As you may know, the Episcopal (English) church was extremely active here a generation ago, Christianizing the Ainu.) The biggest name was that of John Batchelor, who wrote a lot of Ainu ethnology. The old man with us was one of the early Japanese converts and received his Ph.D. in the U.S. many years ago. Christianity is about dead here now, though there is some attempt to revive it.

My god, we move fast. Today we left Tomakomai, went south along the coast to Shiraoi, where we spent three hours on a quick tour through an Ainu fishing village, talking to school teacher, a doctor, and the professional "chief" of the village, who has an enormous old thatched house full of Ainu relics, and who insists on going through the various empty old rituals--exactly like Indians in the Western reservations. The similarities are very detailed, even to the resentment shown this sort of thing by the younger people.

Anyway, from there we beat it down to Noboribetsu, a famous spa up in the mountains about a half hour ride from the seacoast village. Unfortunately there is an Allied Rest Hotel here, which means I have to stay there or I get picked up by MPs (they know I am in town because of the fact you get checked at the railroad station). Anyway at 6 pm (a half hour from now) I am going over to the hotel with Matsumiya and have dinner and a bath with the group.

For the moment I'm alone and liking it. Our camp followers dropped off the regular two (the old Episcopal minister Reverend Nagasa--and the government official) until we hit Shiratori, where we picked up two more. I am more than annoyed at the whole business, and I told Matsumiya in the train that tomorrow he must tell these people we wish to work alone and to please let us do so. Today the damn village officials accompanied us, and the people would not say a thing worth recording.

Am getting a good view of the poverty of northern Japan. Filth, squalor and a complete lack of care about repairs or upkeep, wherever we go. Undesirable stuff--you should see the hospitals! I swear the dirtiest and noisiest and coldest buildings in Hokkaido are the hospitals. Right out of the early 19th century--reminds you of a Hogarth caricature or Dickens' descriptions of madhouses. Dirty bandages on the floors, spider-webbed ceilings, doctors in ancient suits. I am learning that Japanese "cleanliness" is largely a myth. They insist on such details on removing shoes, wash themselves constantly, but pollute their water, use human shit to fertilize vegetables, and have no conception of antiseptics or of the whole germ theory of disease. E.G.: After going BM over one of the open Japanese toilets (a hole in the floor with a pit underneath) they insist on washing off their hands in a little basin of water. The catch is that this basin has water in it all day, and everybody uses it. A simply wonderful way to spread intestinal diseases. Then they bathe like hell, only to wear underwear weeks without washing. The upper and middle classes of course are westernized out of many of these habits, but at least 90% of the Japanese follow them.

On the whole the inadequacy of medical care in Japan is the most outstanding gap in the country's Westernization of science and learning. There are probably only about five or six first class hospitals for 80 million people--the rest being mostly private affairs run by "second class doctors" (called "graduated" in the vernacular with about two years of medical training) and they are death traps. The one I saw today--run by the prefectural government for the Ainu community--was a real nightmare. A fat, drooling old man at the head, who handled fifty patients a day, giving them an assortment of weird looking medicines out of ancient bottles, with dirt, cotton, and god knows what on the floor, curtains hanging in shreds, assorted women cooking in various rooms, no glass in half the windows, an examination table with a filthy blanket full of holes--etc, etc.

Hokkaido is, I guess, a lovely island, but it is a mighty gloomy place so far as the houses and the people are concerned. Everything looks desperately poor, gray and worn. The Japanese habit of building something and then just letting it fall to pieces is more in evidence here than anywhere else. It reminds one of the worst parts of the coal mining areas of the Middle West and Pennsylvania. No money, no incentive to "keep things up." Of course the long wartime situation accentuated all this by impoverishing the whole country.

While I am in a physical mood, I might as well discuss the matter of smells. Japan has many characteristic odors which gradually come to mean Japan to you, because all of them are unknown in America. E.G. (1) urine and shit, combined in a pungent, haunting refrain that follows you through the streets, into the houses, and in all the smaller shops in poorer villages and neighborhoods. I have been in a number of middle class Japanese homes, owned by Westernized people, but the smell is always there, lurking in the halls. I have walked down village streets and been aware of the odor every time. Toilets are confined only to the large cities and then only to the hotels and wealthiest homes.

After the last page stopped, things began happening fast. First, a Japanese dinner party in the great Daiichi Hotel in Noboribetsu (off limits--I had special permission) a fantastic place--three to four thousand people can stay there--huge rabbit warren consisting of six to eight large buildings on different levels, all connected with galleries. In the bottom, an enormous hot springs bath--at least twenty separate pools of various temperatures and mineral mixtures--sex-mixed bathing of course. A fantastic steaming grotto with nude figures of both sexes and children moving through the fog, and a strange odor combined of sulphur fumes and the perfumed soap all Japanese use. We all spent an hour or so of bathing, then up to the dinner. This was the real thing--all laid out in an open rectangle, with a pillow and a separate tray for each person, and with lovely geisha doing the serving. (We had a kind of phony version of the same at the Governor's house in Sapporo for the whole party of fourteen people--the one day I spent with the group I am supposed to be traveling with.)

The dinner had a practical purpose--we had as our guests (and traveling companions the next two days) the outstanding Ainu--the ones who have been educated and are successful in business (lumber and mines). The minority inferiority emerged clearly--we had to persuade them diligently to come to the head of the rectangle and share pillows with us. Leaving out the business until the report--I got gloriously drunk and spent a couple of hours with a geisha in the baths--she doing a fine job of scrubbing me clean in every pore. What a life! Thank god it happens only once. The Japanese really know how to enjoy themselves. The geisha are strange and wonderful creatures. They sing, dance, and play, and if they take a liking to you they really give you the most marvelous and sympathetic attention, including a special technique for keeping your glass of beer full, alternately with your cup of sake, the end product being a wonderful light binge--happy but not blind. In Sapporo after the governor's party we took in a newspaper party for a half hour or so, and a geisha insisted I teach her Western dance steps, which I did to the tune of 1930s Benny Goodman records. They are without a doubt the most accomplished and poised women in the world. It is something that could never come with marriage, and I begin to understand the curious life of the Japanese male--his wife and his geisha or girlfriends. The Japanese have simply preserved a courtesan system, which Christianity in the Western world finally got rid of.

Our schedule was as follows:

1. From Noboribetsu yesterday AM, a train along the coast to Usu, a little town which has the only stone Christian church in Hokkaido--built by Batchelor. An old Ainu woman who Mr. and Mrs. Batchelor adopted as a girl still lives here, in an old house with a Western parlor loaded with Batchelor's personal possessions--library, etc. Even his newspapers! (We will return for a dinner with her and her brother in a day or so).

2. From there to Ogishi, where we stayed overnight at the home of a leading Ainu--one of the group that met us in Noboribetsu. This was quite an experience--a real provincial Japanese family-- household establishment, with about twenty people of all ages living in an ancient, spacious wealthy, ramshackle old country house, dark, with boards and mats polished by years of stocking feet. Not a chair or a bed--we lived totally Japanese style for a night and day. I felt like a character in a Kabuki play. Met all of the village notables, and was presented with a magnificent wood carving--a giant fighting cock! Wait 'til you see it. It will have to be crated all by itself for the trip home. I may have that done soon. Our conferences here were the best yet--we really dug deeply into the "Ainu Problem".

3. Then back to Usu, to have the promised dinner with Batchelor's adopted daughter and her brother, the Reverend Mukai, pastor of the stone church and another of Batchelor's protégés. A very proud and rather disdainful man, living off what he makes from a small fishing business, and very influential in village politics. A pathetic meal--in the parlor full of memories of the great man, with all the plates and knives and forks and linen mementos of him, and with self-consciously Western food, very bad. (The finest food was served in the wonderful house in Ogishi--real, luxurious, rich Japanese rural cooking, with a lot of solid western touches, like mashed potatoes).

[Contemporary Note: Now it can be told, 2001: This carving was presented to JWB by the artist himself, who was a kind of artist-in-residence in the house of the proprietor. He was reluctant to give it to me because it was incomplete--much of it had a certain roughout aspect, which actually I thought was better than the finely finished head and neck portion. Anyway, I instructed the minister traveling with us to compliment him on the carving, and I wrote and illustrated a page in the house memory book, in which I mentioned my appreciation at receiving this fine carving made by a "poor artist"--that is, a struggling artist! However, the interpreter translated "poor" in the sense of financial poverty! I noticed the strange expressions on the face of the gathering, and it was not until we were safely on a train heading south that I realized what had happened. I think one of us wrote the man to explain the translation mistake, but I have never been certain of this, and accordingly, I have been guilty about the incident ever since.]

So we had three long and intimate conferences at crucial spots--Piratori, Ogishi, Usu, with fragments here and there at temporary stops. We also enjoyed ourselves thoroughly, although the role of chief dignitary has become wearing, and I'm glad to get back to my proper humble status.

And now we have a four-hour wait at this junction for the train with the private car on it to come through--at 2:40 am. From there we go to Aomori, cross again on the boat train, and then to Akita and Lake Towada--a famous beauty spot in Northern Honshu. Matsumiya, myself and my interpreter (who didn't go with us on our trip) may leave the party at this lake and head on back to Tokyo, beating the rest by two days. I'm worn out--this has been work, not tourist stuff, and riding these Japanese local trains is something. Without the break at Noboribetsu I would never have made it. Spending the whole day today-- up to supper time, when we beat it back to Usu--at one house was pleasant too, but we talked furiously, and I took notes steadily, through Matsumiya's and Reverend Nagasa's interpreting. Our two traveling companions stuck to the end--both the prefectural government representative, and Nagasa, the sweet old minister, who was visiting friends, in effect, with us. I shall have to send both a present.

Actually the trip is still too much with me to be able to give a detailed and orderly report, but I think the diary hits all the high spots. It is clear that I will get a good report and an even better article out of it. It is high time someone wrote about the Ainu as minority group, instead of some sort of fossil aboriginal element. Not only that, but as a minority they present many striking differences to the American minority situation. Imagine a member of a minority (Japanese), wealthiest man in his village, accorded all due prestige, but who hesitates to sit next to the guest of honor at an ordinary dinner, preferring to sit in the corner! The Ainu are "held back" as much by their own self-effacement as by discrimination. But this is changing, and the younger generation on the whole doesn't show humility.

Midnight. Two and a half hours to go. Matsumiya wants to go out and find a teahouse--that is, a bar--so I must close. Later--Train will be two and a half hours late, meaning we spend the whole night here--getting out at 5 am or so. Good night, I am going to sleep on some benches.

Well, this is two days later after the last installment. We got on the train as scheduled, to find my interpreter up waiting for us (she, Matsumiya, and I are a kind of trio, and the other Americans on the trip--all older, tall, handsome, aggressively American males or women--cannot quite understand our relationship, which is one of sympathy and friendship. I bought Masako a present (some Ainu carved figurines--have some for you too) and she gave me a carved wooden bear--also Ainu (she got to visit one village, near another town on their part of the trip). These exchanges take place with some embarrassment and tenderness on both sides--bewildering to the robust and materialistic American males, who take it as a matter of course that the Japanese on the trip are in a basically servant category.

Masako's skill at interpreting has astonished all of the above Americans, as it always does. She gradually usurped the place of the official interpreter for the Natural Resources Section people on the their Hokkaido trip, which caused some friction, but she is strongly supported by the Americans and they are delighted that we let her go with them. Actually I wish we had taken her with us.

Anyway, yesterday was a day to loaf, mostly because we got no or little sleep. The train crossed the straits on the big ferry again, and it was brilliant sunny day, with the ocean a deep blue. Because we had a private car [standard issue for the Occupation official trips], we could stay in it, and it was fun to sit in the observation parlor car (the end car of our two) and look out the open stern of the ferry with the wake of the ship only a few inches down.

On the way to the ferry at Hakodate the train passed through a vast expanse of volcanic activity-- the whole loop area of Hokkaido where the straits are between the island and Honshu is one big volcanic center. Cones, ash fields and lakes in old cones go for miles. Mostly wasteland, although in some areas the volcanic ash supports the growth of a lush underbrush and some forest, turning the hills and cones bright green, like moss. Weird sight.

The rest of the party branched off at Aomori to take a side trip to Lake Towada, a picturesque volcanic lake in this area. Matsumiya and I remained on the car, so most of yesterday, last night and most of today we have two private cars entirely to ourselves and the steward boys. Quite an experience. We stopped for about three hours in Odate, a large town, and took a long walk last night. Found some interesting baskets, very cheap, which we bought. Then to bed early. While we slept the cars were pushed down here to Kamanai, a farming village, where the rest of the party will join us in a half hour. We got up late, had breakfast, took a long walk through the farming area. Simply lovely--the rice is emerging in its pale virulent green, the banks between the paddies are covered with ferns, buttercups, and a purple flower, and frequently at the edges of the fields are violent orange and pink azaleas (just blooming up here). The houses are all the ancient type, with incredibly steep, pitched thatched roofs. The lanes are lined with cherries in full bloom, and the storehouses are pure white (plaster) with big block family crests. The farmers all in their blue short coats, and straw raincoats and conical straw hats. The whole picture (except for the electric lines and poles) right out of the early 19th century.

Journal Extract: Fukushima

Three days later, terribly travel worn and in need of a haircut. I have on my last clean shirt and pair of socks--although the train boys have washed out a few things for me. There have been a couple more sake parties at the towns we have been stopping at but I went to only one--I've had about enough of that sort of thing. The last three days we've been going down northern Honshu in a diagonal direction, stopping off at the larger towns--usually the capitals of the prefectures. We have conducted interviews on birth control and population with doctors, health officials and newspaper men. In Akita the governor threw a big dinner and sake-geisha party which Matsumiya, Masako and I slipped away from to join the newspapermen at a small private party. Always with geisha of course, to sing and amuse you.

In Akita and Yamagata I picked up some nice Kokeshi folk dolls--wooden, and painted. Also got a nice tea bowl. Have gone easy on the souvenirs though. At Yamagata we went about eight miles over to a hot springs spa, and spent yesterday afternoon in a wonderful Japanese hotel. Really palatial and landscaped like fairyland. The corridors were really arcades built over a pool and stream system, with rocky islands covered with blooming azaleas, and with each room being built out as a separate pavilion, bordering a large pool with a pine grove surrounding. I got some pictures of this place.

Haven't taken many pictures on the trip--haven't had a chance, we've been moving so fast. But I have shots of all the high spots, which I will have processed and sent to you. We leave here in an hour or so, getting into Tokyo about 10:30 PM. And strange as it will seem, back to work tomorrow (after a haircut!).

The last two days have been sunny and warm, and while riding on the train we've been able to open all the windows in the observation car and even sit and stand out on the platform and watch the scenery go by. And there has been some very nice scenery and some lovely farmhouse architecture. In this part of Japan the farmhouse architecture looks startlingly like English Tudor cottage style, and the larger buildings like the Swiss chalet. There have been mountain stretches where the train went through a tunnel every 10 minutes. In the flat mountain valleys every inch of land was cultivated and the fields were dotted with hundreds of farmers, all doing hand cultivation (I doubt if there is one tractor in Japan. The whole civilization is based on hand cultivation).

Well, I've learned a lot on this trip, and changed my ideas on the population study and problem. I should have taken this trip when I first came, because I feel now that travel like this is vital for the kind of research we are doing.

Finally

This trip has had its ups and downs, but no serious disturbances. In all the switching and special routing of these private cars there has been only one error--we got left behind at one station. The personnel have been pretty good as travelers--one senior interpreter did too much politicking and got himself in some trouble with the Americans; another Japanese employee of Natural Resource Section (map-worker) got sensitive and complained about "discriminations" (actually there have been almost none). On the whole though, everyone has acquitted himself pretty well.