Sharing Tea on Lake Akan

by Monica Finifrock (United States of America)

Making a local connection Japan

Snow crunches under my boots as I strain to listen to the voice of our Ainu guide, Kengo, walking up ahead. He stops, turns around and points to a nearby tree with his birch walking stick. He says, “This tree is sacred. You see the vines wrapped around it? And the bark? It’s what my coat is made from.” Kengo pats the stiff, outer cloak he is wearing-- made from softened bark, dyed a deep indigo blue and embroidered with bright yellow thread. He points to a cluster of spruce and white fir trees and explains which ones are better for carving bowls and walking sticks. Falling snowflakes tickle my cheeks as we continue our walk toward the shore of frozen Lake Akan. It’s early February in Hokkaido, Japan and I am far from the bustling streets of Sapporo and the action packed ski resorts to the west. Instead, I am exploring the tranquil landscape of Akan Mashu National Park. After visiting the Akankohan Eco Museum Center in Lake Akan, Kengo offered to take my friends and I for a forest walk. We learned that Lake Akan is in the center of the Akan Caldera area, and also the unique habitat of marimo, a rare species of algea that grows into green, mossy-like balls. We won’t see any marimo today, not under all the snow. But we do observe bubbling, muddy geo-thermal pools, called bokke, nestled among trees and at the bottom of gullies. The volcanic waters of the lake nourish all the living things in and around it’s waters, even in the winter. I hear Kengo say that many of the great trees along the shore have been watching over this rich, natural environment for hundreds of years. We have reached the end of the forest trail and are standing on the shore of Lake Akan, a vast white expanse before us. I hear the snap of ice crack, and the knock of a woodpecker in the distance. Kengo is eager to share his people’s traditions and way of life in Hokkaido with us. The Ainu people, Kengo’s ancestors, have had a deep, harmonious relationship with the creatures around Lake Akan for centuries. He tells us stories of bear hunts and other kumuy, spirit creatures, in the forest. Before leaving the shore of the lake, Kengo says he’d like to offer a prayer to the great Ainu Spirit, a blessing as it were, on all of us. We put away our phones in respect of this sacred moment, Our guide sits down cross-legged in the snow and places a small human-like figure made out of bamboo in front of him. He lights a candle, takes out a ruler-size stick with intricate designs carved into it, and begins to speak in a slow, monotone cadence. On his knee balances a bowl with a small amount of rice wine. Our guide, eyes open, praying softly, taps the figurine with the stick, then taps the bowl, then the figurine- again and again. In the background snow falls on patches of shore ice while Kengo prays. We are quiet, reverent, though we don’t understand the Ainu blessing spoken over us. After a few minutes, Kengo stands up and bows toward the lake and then toward us. He shares his prayer, “I asked for protection, and for safe travels for each one of you, and thanked the Spirit for you coming here.” He then takes a metal flask out of his sling bag and says, “How about tea? I made it myself from bamboo leaves.” He pours each of us a small cup, and we drink together. The earthy tea warms my throat, bringing unexpected relief and pleasure while standing in the cold. I smile and bow to Kengo, thanking him for the tea and for the forest walk. He tucks his thermos into his bag, and says, “Thank the Lake, it has been here, waiting for you.”