Meat in a can

Is there ever a bad time to enjoy canned meat? Perhaps, but when the meat in those cans is whale, sea lion, and bear, it's certainly worth a try. Unsurprisingly, they all tasted pretty much the same; only the textures were in any way discernible. Chewy, chewier, chewiest.
















Japanese grocery stores stock a wide and interesting variety of foods (more on that later) and while canned fish is common, canned whale, sea lion, and bear are not. They won't be found on many dinner tables in Japan--usually only in tourist's shopping bags.

DGHilton

Cultivating hate

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then a display of artwork by Korean schoolchildren depicting countless acts of violence against Japan must be worth many words indeed.

See for yourself.

DGHilton

Forget the bigotry

A few weeks ago, Canadian politician Stephen Fletcher took to the stage at a veteran's convention in the city of Winnipeg. His official role was to "bring greetings from the Federal government" but the 33 year old Fletcher was also there to talk about the second world war.

During his speech, he shared his personal experiences of his grandfather's very real experiences as a prisoner of Japanese forces in Singapore. He would later claim his emotions got the best of him when he referred to Japanese soldiers as "japs" and "bastards".

Fletcher issued an apology shorty after his speech, but it was an apology rife with justifications and qualifications. He claimed that his grandfather's experience gave him "a very emotional perspective" on that historical period. "I stand by the fact that the Japanese were ruthless. If people want to challenge me on that, I look forward to it."

Young Mr. Fletcher seems to have missed the point.

No one is challenging him on his knowledge of history, (indeed, who would dispute the ruthlessness of the Imperial Japanese army during the second world war?) but some, like myself, might like to challenge him on his obvious bigotry.

Let's hope the pen is mightier than the mouth.

DGHilton

Know your friends?

If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.

- Sun Tzu

Fittingly, it was Sun Tsu, a brilliant Chinese general who coined the famous phrase "Know your enemy." In The Art of War, his immensely influential book on military strategy and tactics, he devoted an entire chapter to the art of spying.

That was back in the 6th century BC, and although a brilliant general, it's doubtful even he could have foreseen the impact his book would have more than 2500 years later:

Defectors say China running 1,000 spies in Canada
Wed, 15 Jun 2005
CBC News

Two Chinese defectors say the Chinese government has a network of more than 1,000 spies and informants in Canada. The two men were diplomats in Australia, where they are now seeking political asylum. They say Australia and other countries such as the United States have Chinese spy networks operating inside them too.

Although the Chinese government appears to have taken Sun Tsu's advice to heart, it seems to have overlooked one important distinction: Canada, Australia, and America are not enemies of China.

Sending 1000 spies to "steal commercial and scientific secrets" from one of your largest trading partners is no way to make friends however, and China should know better: after all, does Canada really have any secrets worth stealing?

DGHilton

The burdensome past

A couple years ago, when I lived in a suburb of Vancouver, I became friends with a Korean family who had just immigrated to Canada from Pusan, South Korea. They moved into the house next door to me, and we eventually became friends.

The father spent much of his time in Korea managing the family business (a public bath), while the mother, her two teenage daughters, and her nine year old son adjusted to life in Canada mostly on their own.

Due to proximity and natural curiosity (I was the first Canadian they met; they were my first Korean neighbors) I was soon teaching them English in exchange for delicious home-made Korean dinners. This was not an “official” exchange, but rather an unspoken understanding: I liked to eat, mother liked to cook, and the kids liked to learn English.

After we had finished eating one evening, the son brought out a Korean history text book and laid it on the table. I almost choked on a mouthful of kimchi when, out of the blue, he asked me if I liked Japanese people. Since I know something about Japanese and Korean history, and the often tumultuous relationship between both countries, I decided to play it safe: “Why do you ask?”

Over the next fifteen minutes, this nine year old boy explained in stunning detail the history of Japanese aggression in Korea. He talked about the early colonization of Korea by imperial Japan, the destruction of Korean art, and the desecration of Korean religious sites. He told me about the relocation of thousands of Koreans to Japan to work as forced labour, the imprisonment and murder of Korean protesters, and the theft of valuable Korean treasures by Japanese soldiers. On and on he went.

I was surprised by his knowledge of history, but I was a little concerned. As he spoke, he wore an expression of beaming pride while his two sisters appeared indifferent, as if someone had just explained that the earth does indeed revolve around the sun. At the same time, his mother looked on and listened without even a hint of bemusement. But the tone of his voice conveyed more than a child's pride in knowledge; it also belied his obvious dislike of Japan and the Japanese.

“Every Korean must beat Japanese.” he said. When I asked him what he meant, he explained that in all contests, from sports to education to business, Koreans are raised with the same belief: we must defeat Japan. What surprised me was how a child who knows so much about history could also ignore so much history.

I wanted to tell him that Japan had already been soundly defeated, just over sixty years ago. Two very powerful atomic bombs were dropped on two very populated cities, and almost one hundred thousand people were instantly obliterated. Many more subsequently died of burns, infections, and radiation poisoning. Thousands of tonnes of incendiary fire bombs were also dropped on Tokyo, where upwards of 200,000 people suffocated or were burned to death in the resultant firestorms.

At the end of the second world war, more than 550,000 Japanese people were imprisoned in Russian work camps in Siberia. An estimated 55,000 died and at least 47,000 went missing. Overall, by the time the terms of surrender were signed on the deck of the the USS Missouri in Tokyo harbour, more than two million Japanese civilians and noncombatants had lost their lives in the Pacific theatre of the second world war.

The Pacific war, which essentially started with the Manchurian Incident, exacted a heavy toll on Japan and the price was paid in full. Exactly how and why that price was paid can be read about in almost any history book, and should be. But one look at Japan today--a nation constitutionally dedicated to peace, nuclear nonproliferation, democracy, and the rule of law--proves the lesson was indeed learned and taken to heart.

Why then do so many Koreans believe Japan was never punished for its wrongs, or is owed even more? Because for decades, Korea has been raising generations of young people to fight a war that is long over against an Empire that was already punished and no longer exists. This obsession with Japan's militaristic past is more than a distraction, it's threatening to become a cornerstone of Korean identity.

There is no undoing what has been done, but Korea needs to place a higher value on an objective view of history and the present. Why? Because with every confrontation between these two Asian neighbours, the past obscures the truth in Korea. The past that underlines racial tensions and perpetuates the “Japan as Enemy” belief persists, but the past which could help the relationship between Japan and Korea move in a positive direction gets little airtime.

A example just how obfuscated the view from Korea is can be seen in the recent confrontation between a Korean fishing boat and the Japanese coast guard. The Korean ship was fishing illegally in Japanese waters, and when two members of the Japanese coast guard boarded the vessel, it sped back into Korean waters. Once there, the captain of the Korean ship claimed the vessel never entered Japanese waters and a high seas drama unfolded.

What is telling about this example is how the Korean media portrayed the event. The evening news showed colourful drawings depicting the Japanese coast guard beating the innocent Korean fishermen with clubs. The captain of a Korean coast guard vessel was quoted as saying there was no evidence that the Korean ship even entered Japanese waters. People on the streets of Seoul were interviewed as they prepared to protest Japan for fabricating the whole event and threatening Korean sovereignty.

It's a good thing the Japanese coast guard, perhaps aware of just how badly the truth can be spun in Korea, filmed the entire event. True, when several Korean fishermen pushed a Japanese coast guard member down, his helmet clipped the head of one fisherman. But by no stretch of the imagination could it be considered deliberate.

What turned a common encounter on the high seas into a major incident between two countries? The increasing inability of many Koreans to see past the past and accept the present. Maritime disputes over fishing rights and Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ) violations are relatively common (in fact, a Japanese fishing vessel was recently seized for fishing illegally in Russian waters). But when coloured by the lingering anti-Japanese sentiment in Korea and the belief that Japan must still pay a price for its past, minor incidents between neighbours can quickly become major.

At some point, much like a child's favourite toy, the past must be put away. It's true that a nationalistic Japanese fringe group publishes a history textbook that glosses over aspects of Japan's wartime aggression, but this text has been approved for use by fewer than 1% of Japanese schools. It's also true that Japanese Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi continues to visit the controversial Yasukuni Shrine, but these visits are most likely personal and religious as he claims, not political.

While these subjects are clearly connected to the past, these acts aren't. In a democracy, people have the right to publish controversial books and to visit controversial shrines, no matter how tasteless, insensitive, or potentially inflammatory those acts may be. People also have the right, and in some cases the duty, to debate such things vehemently and in Japan at least, they do.

“So, do you like Japanese?” my young Korean friend asked again. It was such a simple, loaded question but it reminded me that even in Canada, a country with a relatively short history, our present can still be haunted by the pasts of other nations.

“Well,” I sighed, “my fiancée is Japanese..."

That was over two years ago, and I haven't seen my Korean friends since. They moved to a different neighborhood and I moved to Japan with my wife. I don't believe that our friendship (and our somewhat unique food-for-English exchange) ended because of my wife's nationality. But when I think back to our weekly dinners--lessons, that is--I sometimes regret not having said more, because more needs to be said.

Living in the past is not a virtue, and burdening youth with old hatreds is a real shame.

DGHilton