what does iomante mean for modern-day ainu?

Iomante (or Iyomante), the controversial "Bear-Sending Ceremony," which is so sensitively depicted in our most recent storybook translation (The Ainu and the Bear~the gift of the cycle of life; RIC Publications; 2010), is bound to upset some readers. We realize this, and sympathize. A newborn bear cub is torn from its mother (at the cost of the mother's life) and raised with tender care by a village, only to be killed in a ceremony that releases its spirit from the human world so it may return to the spirit world from which it came. The book does not advocate the practice. It simply explains how the custom fits into the traditional Ainu worldview, and attempts to show that within that worldview, the practice makes some sense, and is not meant to be a cruel one.

In 1955, Iomante was outlawed in Japan as barbaric, but the prohibition was rescinded in 2007. Does this mean the practice will be revived among the Ainu? Not likely. The ceremony has already been documented in detail on film for the historical records. The need for bear meat and bear skins in daily life is a thing of the past. Furthermore, the bear population of Hokkaido is declining at an alarming rate with the spread of urban areas.

So what does the right to practice Iomante mean to today's Ainu? I have been looking for hints of the answer to this question for some time now, and was intrigued by a recent news article about a sending ceremony conducted for the shimafukurou (Blakiston's fish owl). The shimafukurou is traditionally regarded by the Ainu as the guardian of the village. In some areas of Hokkaido it is the highest-ranked Ainu god, while in other areas the bear ranks higher. The sending ceremony for the owl is similar to that for the bear.

According to the news article, the dead body of a fledgling shimafukurou was found on a rural highway in the Hidaka area of Hokkaido on December 25, 2009. From the ID bracelet attached to its leg, it was identified as a juvenile that had been released into the wild just six months earlier by the Ministry of the Environment. The MOE is involved in breeding this endangered bird to circumvent its extinction. Even fledgling shimafukurou have wing spans that can exceed one meter (three feet), while the fully mature owls can be more than two-meters (six feet) from wingtip to wingtip.

The man who discovered the dead owl, the president of a construction company and member of the Hidaka branch of the Hokkaido Ainu Association, was reported as saying, "I knew at once it was no ordinary bird. There were the half-eaten remains of a duckling nearby. The owl must have brought its meal to the road to eat, and then gotten hit by a car." That same day, before returning the bird to the MOE, the Hidaka branch of the Ainu Association conducted a "sending ceremony" (Hopunire) to send the bird's spirit safely back to the spirit world. The subtle differences in meaning between Hopunire and Iomante seems to depend on the geographic origin of the speaker, but for the purposes of this blog post, the difference is insignificant.

I have also read that Iomante has been conducted in recent years for bears that die in captivity, such as those reared at the Kuma-bokujou bear park in Noboribetsu, one of the areas in Hokkaido where people of Ainu descent are concentrated. In these, and perhaps other ways, it appears that the tradition of Iomante is being preserved and carried on by modern-day Ainu.

See original news article about the sending ceremony for the dead owl (Japanese).

the owl and the message

The Owl and the Message is my English version of the Song Sung by the Owl God~ Konkuwa from Chiri Yukie's yukar anthology. I translated and retold it in view of getting it published as a storybook for English-speaking children. The message to which my title refers, is a timely one for our day. In the story, the Ainu villagers are starving because the mountains and rivers no longer provide the food they need. The owl kamuy, who is the guardian of the village, sends a message to the land of the kamuy gods to find out why this situation has come about. He receives a reply with an explanation, a warning, and a chance for the village to redeem itself. I find it easy to imagine this yukar being chanted to generation after generation of young Ainu, as a lesson in both personal and group responsibility, the consequences of one's behavior, and how to co-exist with nature.

The Owl and the Message

When I was young my voice was strong. Now I am old and my voice has become weak. But I have an important message and I need someone I can count on to deliver it for me. So I called out, “Is there anyone who is good at speaking and can be trusted to deliver my message?”

A young crow came to my door and said, “No one is better at speaking than I am. You can count on me to deliver your message.” So I began to tell him the message as I beat on the lid of the wine cask, for my message was a long one. Three days passed and I was still only part way through the message. But I looked up and saw that the young crow had fallen asleep next to the hearth. I became very angry and beat the crow to death.

Once again I called out, “Is there anyone who is good at speaking and can be trusted to deliver my message?” A mountain jay came to my door and said, “No one is better at speaking than I am. You can count on me to deliver your message.” So I began to tell him the message as I beat on the lid of the wine cask, for my message was a long one. Four days passed and I was still only part way through the message. But I looked up and saw that the mountain jay had fallen asleep next to the hearth. I became very very angry and beat the mountain jay to death.

Once again I called out, “Is there anyone who is good at speaking and can be trusted to deliver my message?” A young water ouzel came to my door and respectfully entered my house. I saw that he was well-dressed and had good manners. So I began to tell him the message as I beat on the lid of the wine cask, for my message was a long one.

After six days and nights I looked up and saw that the water ouzel was wide awake and still listening carefully to my words. As soon as I finished speaking, the water ouzel flew out of the house through the smoke hole in the roof and took my message up to heaven.

This was my message:

“There is a famine in the human world and the humans are starving. There is nothing to eat on land or in the water. When they hunt in the hills, there are no deer. When they go to the river, there are no fish. Is there a reason the gods will not provide for their needs?”

After several days passed, the water ouzel returned to my house with an answer from heaven. The water ouzel said, “Humans have been treating the deer and fish without respect, hitting them with rotten sticks and leaving parts abandoned in the forest. The spirits of the deer and fish return to heaven in a mess, and this has made the gods angry. But if humans improve their ways by showing respect to wildlife, and once again treat the deer and fish with honor, the gods will make sure they will have enough to eat.”

That night I went to the humans in their dreams and explained to them the reason for the famine. I then taught them how to treat the deer and fish with honor. The humans changed their ways from the very next day. They began to treat wildlife with respect. They used beautifully carved sticks for fishing and hunting, and they adorned the deer and fish after catching them, so that their spirits could return to heaven in honor.

The gods now provide the humans with enough to eat, and there is no fear that they will starve any more. The crisis is over and my spirit is free to leave this old body at last. I will now go to heaven, leaving the human world in the care of younger owl guardians.

The End

I'm not sure whether I should stick to the relatively formal language of the original yukar, or if I should revise it to sound more modern and informal. I also wonder how Western readers will react to what happens to the crow and the mountain jay. Will I have to soften the language? Or should I be true to the original? If you have any thoughts on these issues, I welcome comments. The attached illustration is the work of Stephanie Gagnepain.

silver droplets

Arguably the most famous of Ainu folk tales in Japan is the first one in Chiri Yukie's yukar anthology. It has, in the past, been included in Japanese middle school textbooks as a token example of Ainu oral literature. So if a member of the general public has ever heard or read an Ainu folk tale at all, it will most likely be this one.

In her anthology, Chiri Yukie titles this story "The Song Sung by the Owl God: Shirokani pe ran ran pishkan." Shirokani pe ran ran pishkan literally means "Silver drops fall all around" in the Ainu language, but that seems to have little significance beyond the fact that the sound of the words represents the sound of the Owl's song. It is common practice for the Ainu stories to be labeled with the words that begin the story, and in this case the story begins with shirokani pe ran ran pishkan.

The owl in this story is the shima-fukurou (striped owl), or Blakiston's Fish Owl, a now-endangered species that is traditionally worshiped as the guardian of the Ainu village. My English translation of this yukar is titled "Where the Silver Droplets Fall."

Where the Silver Droplets Fall

"Where the silver droplets fall, where the golden droplets fall..." I sang my song as I descended on the air current. Passing above a human village, I gazed down and saw that those who had once been poor seemed to have become rich and those who had once been rich seemed to have become poor. I passed over the beach where there were young children playing with small toy bows and small toy arrows.

"Where the silver droplets fall, where the golden droplets fall..." I sang as I passed above the heads of the children. The children ran along the ground below me, calling out to me and to one another. "Beautiful bird! Divine Bird! Come on everybody. Let`s shoot our arrows at it. Whoever hits it first is the bravest among us, a true hero."

As they called out to one another in this way, the children of households which had once been poor but were now rich, fit their metal arrows into their metal bows and released the arrows at me. Many little arrows came flying towards me but I caused them to veer up or down and they all missed.

Among them was one child who carried a bow and arrow made only of wood. I saw what the child was wearing and knew that he was from a poor household. But when I looked into his eyes, I thought he must be either the son or grandson of someone of good standing. He stood out among the others in the way he played. This child also fit his wooden arrow into his wooden bow and aimed at me.

As he did so, the children who had once been poor but were now rich laughed at him and said, "Now that’s really funny! You silly pauper, that’s a divine bird. It will never accept your rotten wooden arrow when it won’t even accept our metal arrows. Not in a million years." They kicked him with their legs and hit him with their fists. But the poor boy ignored them and carefully aimed his arrow at me. I watched him and was moved.

"Where the silver droplets fall, where the golden droplets fall," I sang as I drew a circle slowly in the sky. The poor boy drew one leg back and set it firmly behind him while setting the other leg firmly in front of him. He bit on his lower lip and steadied his aim. The arrow was released in a whoosh of air. The tiny arrow flew clean and straight towards me. I stretched out my claw and plucked that little arrow from the air. I sliced through the wind and fluttered to the ground. The children churned up the sand in little storms as they raced one another towards where I had fallen.

I fell to the earth almost at the same moment that the poor boy reached me ahead of the others. He ran to me and grasped me in his hands. But the children who had once been poor and were now rich had caught up with him and endlessly abused him with harsh words and beatings.

"You scoundrel. How dare you beat us to the bird!" And as the children abused him, the poor boy covered my body with his own, pressing me firmly against his belly. He wriggled and squirmed till he had escaped through a gap between the children. Then he leaped away from them and ran as fast as he could.

click here to read the full story.