SYSTEM NOTICE

Auto translation by AI. Be sure, accuracy, nuances and authorial intent may not be fully reflected.
見出し画像

Walking Through a Japan That Could Have Become Okinawan but Didn't—Ueno Ameyoko, Yona Maul

Eighty years after the defeat in the Asia-Pacific War, Tokyo's bustling districts are still dotted with neighborhoods that emerged in the chaos of the scorched earth. Shinjuku, Shin-Okubo, Shibuya, Shimbashi, Ikebukuro, and Ueno. Each of them remains overflowing with an inexplicable vitality and continues to change. These neighborhoods are home to many immigrants, all of whom live freely in their own ways. Furthermore, they are always prepared to flee Japan should the yen depreciate any further. I am left breathless by their vitality.

When one thinks of Ueno's Ameyoko, it has long been a seasonal tradition featured in year-end news, showing the bustling streets and the popularity of salted salmon. However, since the latter half of the 2010s, kebab shops and authentic Chinese restaurants from the former Manchuria region have increased, while fresh fish shops have plummeted, clothing stores have lost their edge, the pricing of military-style clothing has become sloppy, and the American casual wear has become lackluster, causing the charm of Ameyoko to change and lose its luster.

However, the story I want to tell about Ameyoko is different. It is about a restaurant called Yona Maul.

It was purely by chance that I discovered this shop. First, looking at the menu, I was intrigued. It features not only Han Chinese dishes but also Korean cuisine, Manchurian-style lamb skewers, and Yanji beef soup rice. This shop does not display "multicultural coexistence" as a slogan. Rather, this menu has been formed as a result of them "having survived." These dishes carry not just a diversity of flavors, but traces of history and geography. This is because in the former Manchuria and Northeast China, Han Chinese, Manchus, and ethnic Koreans have lived side-by-side for a long time, and their food cultures have blended. Looking at the lineup of dishes in this shop, the food itself calls back history that has sunk deep into the body.

Why does the Yona Maul menu feature Korean cuisine, Mongolian cuisine, and Han Chinese cuisine?

Isn't this the kind of image we have of China?
An emperor wearing robes with tubular sleeves.
A large gong rung during rituals.
Sweet, erhu music that invites you into a dream.
Chinese martial arts, Kung Fu.
Gyoza, sweet and sour pork, and chop suey.
And the 4,000-year-old Chinese kanji culture.
But this is only the "inside" of the Great Wall,
while on the "outside," various other cultural spheres spread out.
Not to mention Tibet, Uyghur, and Mongolia,
the three northeastern provinces that were former Manchuria as well.
Also, historically speaking, in the 13th century, not only all of China but
the entire Eurasian continent was ruled by the Mongol people.
(The Han Chinese, having learned their lesson from the Mongols and fearing them,
began construction of the Great Wall.)
However, China was then ruled by the Manchus.
Under the Qing Dynasty established by the Manchus,
the Han Chinese also had to shave most of their heads like the Manchus,
and leave a small amount of long hair at the back of the head to be braided,
and the Han Chinese lamented this punk-style hairstyle.

The three northeastern provinces, which were former Manchuria,
are an intermediate zone sandwiched between North Korea to the east, Mongolia to the west, and Russia to the north.
Liaoning Province, home to the major port city of Dalian.
And Jilin Province, famous for the "Manchu-Han Feast," an incredible culinary universe where the Manchus and Han Chinese competed with each other's dishes, and the birthplace of the great Qing Dynasty.
Or Heilongjiang Province, where Harbin, which looks just like St. Petersburg, exudes charm.
The Manchus were originally called the Jurchen people,
and are considered proto-Mongols.


In other words, they are of the same lineage as the Mongol people,
the equestrian nomads who ruled all of Eurasia in the 13th century.
However, the Jurchen people were later weakened by attacks from both the Mongols, with whom they had deep blood ties,
and the Han Chinese, and on the other hand, the surviving Jurchen were absorbed by the Mongols, which is complicated.
However, as mentioned in the queue hairstyle story,
the Qing Dynasty, which ruled China from the 17th century to the early 20th century, was also a Manchu empire.
The end of the Qing Dynasty is depicted in the film "The Last Emperor."
Jilin Province is surrounded by mountains, with lakes, pastures, and wetlands,
and many freshwater fish swim in the beautiful Songhua River.
Jilin Province was once the base of the Qing Dynasty, which was a Manchu dynasty.


They created the Manchu-Han Feast, famous as a super-luxurious banquet that reached the height of prosperity.
It was a display where Manchu delicacies and Han Chinese delicacies were lined up to compete.
One can feel the skill of Manchu governance in this as well.
The sheer variety of ingredients in that feast is incredible!
Bird's nest, shark fin, sea cucumber, sturgeon cartilage, abalone, seal, giant salamander,
as well as quail, turtle dove, swan, ptarmigan, peacock,
and even lion's mane mushroom, morel, bamboo fungus, shiitake, white wood ear mushroom,
and camel hump, bear paw, monkey brain, orangutan lip,
and even leopard fetus, rhinoceros scrotum, deer tendon, elephant trunk... Compared to such a "national feast universe" of Manchuria, the food at Yona Maul is far too modest. But here, there is not the ostentation of a banquet, but the time itself that they have survived.
Yanji City is located within that Jilin Province,
and Yanji City is likened to the "Han River of Seoul."
Also, within Yanji City is the Yanbian Korean Autonomous Prefecture,


where immigrants from Hamgyong Province in the northeastern part of North Korea live,
and they account for 40% of Yanji City's population.
The signs of the shops lined up here are all required to be written in both Korean and Chinese.
(The administration's intention is that Korean-only notation is not allowed.)
Also, despite the city being overflowing with Korean characters,
due to the Chinese Communist Party's assimilation policy, Korean is now
becoming less and less understood than it once was.
If you climb the Longhu Pavilion in Fangchuan, Yanbian Korean Autonomous Prefecture,
you can see China, Russia, and North Korea all at once.

Now, about Yona Maul.
First, the shop name "Yona Maul"


is registered on Tabelog as "Yona Maul."If you read Yona Maul in Chinese, it is yán yǎ cūn.
So, what exactly is Yona Maul?
Yes, it is the Korean reading of Yona Maul.


Doesn't this remind us of the obvious?
Before the state,
people had names,
had language,
and lived by eating.


When I went down the stairs and entered the shop,
the clean interior was lined with booth seats.
On my first visit, I ordered the "Yanji Beef Soup Rice" for 1,100 yen including tax,
which the shop recommends.


After waiting a few minutes, the set meal tray arrived.
Three small aluminum plates,
"Bean sprout namul," "Seasoned mustard greens," "Napa cabbage kimchi"
and chewy rice in an aluminum bowl.
And in an aluminum bowl bigger than my face,
in a light brown soup with a deep umami flavor, there were plenty of chopped green onions,
and in the soup, which was rich in umami and carried the scent of black pepper, cilantro, and red chili pepper,
there were pieces of lean beef and thinly sliced white meat that looked like rubber soles.
Even those thinly sliced rubber soles provided a pleasant texture.
When I looked into it, it seems this delicious soup is made by first boiling chunks of beef, green onions, and garlic,
and then taking the meat out later to slice it thinly.
On the other hand, the soup seems to be seasoned with shiitake mushrooms, red chili powder, and a little soy sauce.
Still, how much soup do they intend to make me drink!
While I was amazed, it was delicious, so the meal progressed quickly,
and while tasting the namul, mustard greens, and kimchi,
towards the end, I put the chewy rice into the soup and finished it off as "cat rice" (rice mixed with soup).
It was delicious!
Indeed, it is almost entirely Korean cuisine.


Now, let's look at the a la carte menu of Yona Maul.
Naengmyeon (cold noodles), stone pot pig's trotters, kimchi jjigae, and sundae are definitely Korean cuisine.
Incidentally, cold noodles seem to be a dish born in Pyongyang.
Lamb skewers are a Mongolian tradition.
"Di San Xian (fried eggplant, green pepper, and potato)" is Northeast Chinese cuisine.
And then there is Han Chinese food like boiled dumplings.
I wonder what kind of seasoning the sea bass or grouper dishes have.
And is the beef hot pot Sichuan style?
How about it? This shop, Yona Maul, is attractive, isn't it?


When paying, I asked the young middle-aged head waiter with a soft mohawk,
"What kind of place is Jilin Province?"
He smiled and replied, "The scenery is beautiful. Surrounded by mountains. People are kind."
What a concise and endearing answer.
Actually, I know too. In Jilin Province that year, there was a city lockdown due to the Wuhan pneumonia in early summer,
and the heavy rains and drought in the summer caused massive damage to crops, making many farmers cry.
His heart, living in Tokyo, must have ached as well.
I said, "kamsahamnida! (Thank you!) I'll come again."

There is a small Korea within China.
Jilin Province, one of the former Manchuria (three northeastern provinces),
its provincial capital is Changchun, which was called Xinjing during the Manchukuo era.
Throughout the province, multi-ethnic groups such as Han Chinese, Manchus, ethnic Koreans, and Mongols live,
and there is the Yanbian Korean Autonomous Prefecture in Yanji City.
In the Yanbian Korean Autonomous Prefecture, immigrants mainly from Hamgyong Province in the northeastern part of North Korea live,
and they account for 40% of Yanji City's population.
There are circumstances behind this.
From 1910 to 1945, the Empire of Japan had the Korean Peninsula as an overseas territory,
and after Japan won the Russo-Japanese War, people on the peninsula also
found it easier to go to this land "as Japanese."
Furthermore, with the establishment of Manchukuo in 1932, which involved Japan and was also a successor state to the Qing Dynasty, and its existence until 1945,
migration of Koreans to that land became even easier.
Manchukuo has long since disappeared,
but many Koreans still live there today.
The signs of the shops lined up there are all required to be written in both Korean and Chinese.
(The administration's intention is that Korean-only notation is not allowed.)
Despite the city being overflowing with Korean characters,
due to the Chinese Communist Party's assimilation policy, Korean is now
becoming less and less understood than it once was.
On my second visit, I ordered "Lamb Skewers" at 180 yen per skewer,

"He Yu Tang (loach vegetable soup, gochujang flavor?)" at 1,580 yen,
and a bowl of rice (forgot the price).
The lamb skewers had several small pieces of lamb meat pierced on a long stainless steel skewer,


and the meat was marinated in red chili powder, white sesame seeds, fennel, etc.,
and by being roasted, it had a fascinating finish where meat juices and spices were mixed,
with a spiciness but also a slight sweetness of the meat.
On the other hand, the "He Yu Tang (loach vegetable soup, gochujang flavor?)" had


a fair amount of finger-sized cut loach in a red-brown soup,
with plenty of tofu, thinly sliced zucchini-like ehobak, and diagonally sliced green onions.
The loach was slightly bitter, which combined with the sweet and spicy taste of the gochujang to make it interesting.
I also learned that the stewed ehobak has a fluffy texture like a potato.
In the second half, I put in the rice and finished it off as cat rice.
It was delicious, but
the seasoning relied on gochujang, and the flavor was simple and rustic,
so I think it might be better to refine the taste a little more.
Such dishes seem to have a wide range of seasoning from shop to shop.
In other words, it didn't have the same impact as the "Yanji Beef Soup Rice" I had last time.
Nevertheless, the lamb skewers are wonderfully delicious,
and the naengmyeon (cold noodles) is also very popular.
And I imagine.



If you climb the Longhu Pavilion in Fangchuan, Yanbian Korean Autonomous Prefecture,you can see China, Russia, and North Korea all at once.
In the short summer, you can often see elderly people from South Korea at the Longhu Pavilion.
They just silently look at North Korea across the river.
They hate the North Korean military, but they want to see their relatives and friends.
However, they cannot meet.
What are they doing?
A leaden sadness is sinking in their chests.
Seagulls are flying in the cloudy sky.
The seagulls flap their wings and easily cross the border.
Speaking of North Korea reports in Japan—.


Abduction issue. Nuclear weapons. Ballistic missiles. New rockets.
They are growing poppies on a grand scale in the mountains as a drug industry.
They spend too much money on weapons development, and the people are on the verge of starvation.
Only such news is reported.
But such reports are, as expected, lacking in fairness.
On the walls of Pyongyang's streets, propaganda paintings that inspire the courage of the people are drawn,


and trolley buses run through such streets, receiving electricity from overhead wires via pantographs.
Pigeons are playing around the Tower of the Juche Idea, which has a sculpture of a hammer and sickle.
Kim Il-sung Square, famous for its military parades, is usually peaceful.
On short summer holidays, dressed-up lovers are boating on the river,
while shining red pin badges with the faces of Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il on their left chests.
Families with children go to the Pyongyang Zoo, take family photos,
and if a foreigner walks through the city, all the children in Pyongyang wave their hands with smiles.
The people all love music.
And also, that country has acrobatics that fascinate people with wonderful physical ability.
Chandeliers are shining in the Pyongyang subway passages.
In the first place, the reason North Korea became such a bizarre political regime is,
originally, like Vietnam,


it was tossed about by the strategies of the United States and the Soviet Union,
and Korea was divided into North and South.
I just feel lucky that Japan did not become like that.
Indeed, if you are a Japanese politician, it is natural to think about Japan's national interest and want North Korea and South Korea to remain divided. However, it is despicable for Japanese citizens to wish for the continuation of a neighboring country's misfortune. Because people cannot choose their ethnicity when they are born, and they cannot choose the country they are born in. Of course, in the case of North Korea, a certain number of Koreans chose this country when it was founded. However, subsequent generations were born as North Korean people regardless of their own will.



In Yona Maul,


no matter when, where, or in what environment,as "ethnic Koreans born in China,"
there is a stubbornness and pride in continuing to be oneself,
and there is hardly anything more important than this.
The richness of the Manchu-Han Feast is a creation of the state.
In contrast, the history they have lived is engraved in the dishes of Yona Maul.
What the food at Yona Maul teaches us is the very obvious, yet easily forgotten fact that "people were living before borders were drawn."


Thinking about it, modern Japan has a problem with the formation of the subject for each individual citizen.
Under the national unity system in the first half of the Showa era, it was an era of nationalistic personality formation,
and after the defeat, that directly created bureaucratic-type people and company-type people.
However, with the collapse of the bubble in 1990, non-regular employment increased rapidly, and the number of citizens without a position and without a formed subject increased.

This is a nation-state like an empty cup, and depending on the direction of the populist wind, one does not know what kind of ideology will enter the cup.

Originally, identity is a dynamic process that is pluralistic, accepts others, and at the same time changes oneself.

However, since Japanese people today cannot easily do that, their thinking naturally becomes rigid. It is very dangerous.

I think that healthy patriotism only dwells in people who can live anywhere they go. However, this idea and way of living of living freely does not easily take root in Japanese people. (Even I myself am questionable.) Therefore, populism easily leans toward immigrant exclusion. Even though the Japanese economy cannot function without immigrants.

For that reason, this reportage of mine is leaning toward modern Japanese psychoanalysis.

To be continued


いいなと思ったら応援しよう!