Writing Fukushima #12 Mt. Bandai in Aizu, the Heart's Home

For the graves and

Bodhisattvas of the fields

the mountain glows with leaves

(nojizō ni nobaka ni yama no yosōeru)

※yama yosōu/yama no yosōeru: A haiku season word. Describes a mountain in autumn, all colorful and bright with autumn leaves.

The veil of mist parted for an instant and Mt. Bandai appeared in its autumn glory. At the mountain foot, rice ears made golden waves and autumn lay tranquilly over the village. And yet as soon as we go around to Ura Bandai, literally the back of the mountain, the summit reveals its rocky face, the caldera left by the Eruption of 1888, and its expression changes completely. The Eruption caused tremendous damage and loss of life to the villages at the northern foot. At the same time over three hundred beautiful lakes and ponds, such as Lake Hibara and Goshiki-numa were formed. Ice fishing for smelt on Lake Hibara when it is frozen over is a seasonal tradition. The difference between the expression on Mt. Bandai's front and its back brings into sharp relief the contrasting abundance and harshness of nature. Mt. Bandai has also been looked up to since ancient times as a center of mountain worship. The local people tell me they call Mt. Bandai a "treasure-trove" and that it has brought them everything, from rice, buckwheat, and fruit, to natural hot springs and beautiful scenery.

"Yes, Aizu's Mt. Bandai is a true treasure-trove!" The voices of the mothers of Fukushima Prefecture pierced the clear blue skies of New York in October 2013. 140 members of the Fukushima Mothers' Chorus Association who had participated in the "2nd Japan-US Chorus Festival" at Carnegie Hall were giving a live outdoors performance. After singing "My Hometown" and several other traditional Japanese songs, it was "Aizu's Mt. Bandai," that sprang from their lips. As they danced in a circle in their "happi" coats and began to sing, the New Yorkers passing by all stopped to watch. Those in the audience who had been weeping at "My Hometown" joined in by clapping and in no time, a crowd gathered.

It is no exaggeration to say that "Aizu's Mt. Bandai" is the most famous of all Japanese folksongs. The version sung today dates to the summer of 1933, when the popular singer Katsutaro Kouta visited Higashiyama Hot Springs during the "Bon" Festival, and fell in love with the Aizu Bon Odori Song. She added the verse about Ohara Shosuke, the wastrel of Aizu — "Why did Ohara Shosuke lose his fortune? He loved his late mornings, his morning baths, and his morning wine, that's why he lost his fortune, folks!" — and recorded it in a professional arrangement, which became a best-selling record all over Japan. Most of the rest of the lyrics come from "Genjo-Bushi," an Aizu song that grew out of improvised call and response pieces sung by worshipers during overnight festivals at Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines. This custom, which also involved forming a circle and dancing the night away, is said to retain elements of the ancient utagaki* festival.

When the Fukushima Mothers' Chorus Association performed at Carnegie Hall as part of the 2nd Japan-US Chorus Festival there was a full house and it received a standing ovation. 2014 is the fiftieth anniversary of its founding and to celebrate the occasion there was a 50th Chorus Festival at the Fukushima City Concert Hall. The Japan Choral Harmony "TOMO" Chorus, which had performed together with them in Carnegie Hall last autumn, came all the way from New York to participate. Of course "Aizu's Mt. Bandai" closed the after-party, and everyone there got up and danced to it in a big circle. They say that in the old days lanterns were kept lit all night as the Bon dances went on and on. One of the mothers said, "Even now the unaffected sound of the "taiko" drum echoing in the silence of the night remains in my body." Wherever she is and whatever happens, when she hums this song, the mountains and rivers of her hometown float up in her mind and she feels she can face anything.

Waiting and waiting

for the white swans, the lake

is sparkling with light

(hakuchō wo machi-iru umi no akarusa yo)

As I stood on the shore of Inawashiro Lake and gazed on Mt. Bandai, the words of Miyake Yuko, leader of the Chorus Association, came to mind. "As long as the mothers stay positive and sing," she had said, "the children and the old people feel secure and smile. That is why we kept on singing even after the disaster. And we will keep on." Mt. Bandai, in both joy and pain, will always be looked up to as the heart's home, and folksongs will continue to be sung about it . With the swans' arrival near at hand, the center of the lake sparkled in the sun.

* utagaki

In ancient Japan men and women gathered on mountains or in market-places a few times a year and held poem contests with a lot of dancing and singing. Such gatherings were called "utagaki."

Haiku and text: Madoka Mayuzumi

Translation: Janine Beichman

Photo credit: Fukushima-Minpo Co., Ltd.

First publication: 11 November 2014, Fukushima-Minpo Newspaper

Photo caption: Mt. Bandai