To be together is for us to be at once as free as in solitude, as gay as in company.

Charlotte Brontë, “Jane Eyre”

17 September 2023

• Sapporo pride – day 2 (~3h)

Sapporo Pride Parade

I slept quite badly again. After meeting Cowboy at 9:00 for breakfast, I returned to my hostel to sleep for a couple more hours, until 12:30. Then I returned to yesterday’s booths area.

I talked to an Indian guy from Hilton hotel in Niseko, Hokkaido’s prime ski resort. We chatted yesterday, and now, upon hearing my intention to live in Hokkaido, he said I could find a job in Niseko for the winter. This struck me as a more feasible method than the English teachers’ dinner.

At 13:20, the people who’d signed up to walk the parade congregated in Odori park. Five groups in Sapporo, as opposed to Tokyo’s 37.

Colourful people in makeup, rainbow flags, though mostly allies. I met a group of Americans and Canadians teaching English all over Hokkaido: Sapporo, Hakodate, Tomakomai, Kitami, Kutchan, Bihoro… most of them didn’t know one another, and, upon introduction, thought I was an English teacher living in Hokkaido as well.

At 14:00, we walked the parade together. Like Tokyo – and unlike Seoul – the atmosphere was peaceful and cheerful, with zero hate. A lot of 1980’s songs and explanations over speaker about the meaning of LGBT terms (Japan was forty years behind when it came to both queer music and awareness). Thank god it didn’t rain yesterday and today.

After one too short of an hour, our group finished walking. No sooner had we returned to Odori than it started drizzling for a short while. Good timing.

We returned to the booths, whereupon the group of teachers from Sapporo who’d already known each other ditched us. Four of us remained: a 26-year-old South African girl teaching in Kutchan, a 39-year-old American woman teaching in Kitami, and a 27-year-old Australian guy teaching in Bihoro.

Even with the latter being just an ally, I revelled in our group’s formation, because the atmosphere was fun and queer, sexually liberated, and full of tea. The woman had brought her huge dog for the parade, wearing a rainbow bandana around his neck. Every single Japanese person who passed us stared at his unusual size.

I got a free consultation with colour stylist at one of the booths (basically, examining fabrics and being told summer-y, blue shades fitted me the most… I was not convinced). Free miso soup (I gave them my pork). Then we walked for half an hour to a parking lot, to let the dog rest inside the woman’s car.

By the time this was over, and we walked back to Susukino, all of us grew tired. Legs weary, stomachs empty, we just wanted to find a restaurant and sit down. The woman was vegan, so we went to an Indian place.

Spinach seafood curry and the best nan ever.

The more the four of us talked, the more crazy stories we shared around the table, especially the SA girl. She was a very fun person to be around, interested in sexual gossip. With the stories she shared, none of which I could possibly divulge, I grew interested as well. SA was the rape capital of the world, with frequent mugging and kidnapping. She was practically living in a teen TV show.

After our late lunch / early dinner, it was 19:00, too early to go out. She wanted us to watch a rugby match at an Irish pub at 22:00. Yet I was quite nervous about my itinerary starting tomorrow, which was still out in the open. I didn’t know what I would do and where I would be staying.

Susukino, Again, Because That’s the Only Place in Sapporo to Hang Out

We walked five minutes to SA’s hostel by Susukino station and hung out for two hours at the large common area. Her accommodation was loads better than mine.

While the three of them were chatting, I used the American woman’s phone to call a hostel in Rebun, Japan’s northernmost island, without a website. I booked a night bus to Wakkanai (Japan’s northernmost town) and checked the ferry timetable. The woman also gave me some tips about hiking and accommodations around Daisetsuzan.

It also became apparent that she’d bought two tickets to see Taylor Swift perform in Tokyo in February. The second ticket was bought in the hope of meeting someone who’d like to go with her.

Me.

Oh, but I wouldn’t be in Japan in February. The performance was so close to my birthday. I could’ve gone with her and met Cowboy there, who had a ticket as well…

I was about the mention the Mongolian student from Korea, when SA snagged the ticket. Oh well.

At 21:00, I led them to the Happy Building, which was strangely quieter today. Tomorrow was a national holiday, and this was after pride. I was disappointed. Perhaps 21:00 was too early for anything to start.

At the end of the day, Sapporo was a modest place for queer nightlife. No party spots around.

The tiny bars inside the building didn’t accept girls, either. (Only the lesbian bars.) That was okay. Time to move on to the Irish pub.

We watched the match until 0:00, and then thought what to do next. I really wanted to party. To dance for hours, like in Tokyo and Seoul. There were a couple of good but straight avenues for that. But all four of us were getting exhausted.

As we crossed Susukino, we got caught in a downpour. Only I was carrying an umbrella: my small, cheap, half broken UV umbrella from Korea’s Daiso. Getting more tired and deluged, we realized it was time to call it a night. The woman and the guy went to the parking lot, while SA and I returned to Susukino.

Every street we crossed, we spotted too many cool bars and restaurants. One could have a great time living in Sapporo simply hopping from one to another. You only needed money to be able to do that. A foodie’s town.

We entered a couple of bars, but they were closed. One of the owners gifted us a huge umbrella.

As our conversation flowed like the flood, it hit me that I hadn’t met a girl during Round Two that I’d gotten along so well with. Simply strolling around the quiet streets of a city at night during rain, after a day of partying, talking to her about our experiences and struggles, felt phenomenal. There was an understanding between us, a similar mind, when it came to dating, and sexuality, and the like.

I decided that I didn’t need to dance at a club. I’d already met in Sapporo someone I liked.

I walked her to her hostel. She lived in a tiny town called Kutchan, which one needed a car to explore. (Not that there was much to explore there, though.) Yet as we said goodbye, I realized I hadn’t had a premature sad farewell in a while. I wanted to see her again. We’d have an opportunity to do so, perhaps when I returned to Otaru.

She let me keep the umbrella. I walked back to my hostel, rain splattering against my umbrella, cars splashing puddles, people drinking in crowded bars. Quiet alleys and neon signs.

In the end, Sapporo pride was a tame, modest affair, smaller than my previous two. No wild experiences of crazy, large, busy clubs, nor ups and downs of dancing and getting rejected, plucking up the courage to make moves, going through a process of confidence, desire, jealousy, self-consciousness, inferiority, release, inhibition, relief; being sandwiched by partygoers, surrounded by couples, by people more attractive than me, who never looked my way once – sweat dripping, music blaring, alcohol and a broken soul –

As I reflected on all this, unable to fall asleep in bed, I found myself longing for all those bad moments, because their existence also meant the flash of a high. When something about that scenario worked out, it was amplified by the hardships along the path.

Sapporo’s pride was nice, devoid of disappointments. No adrenaline-inducing highs, no extreme emotions or a rush. Just pleasant fun.

I reflected on the last few days, wondering if I was about to go down another rabbit hole, like the one in Korea in late July. I thought about the Korean student, and found it even harder to doze off.

Today’s highlights: walking Sapporo’s pride parade; curry and gossip with the pride gang; wandering around Susukino with SA at night.

18 September 2023

• Hokkaido museum of art (1.5h)
• 17:10-17:25 Nishi 15 chome to Susukino station streetcar (outer loop)

Searching for My Lost Wallet

I woke at 9:30 after less than five hours of sleep. Yet again.

After checking out of my hostel at 10:00, I examined the ferry timetable from Wakkanai to the nearby islands; the website still didn’t let me book the economy class, even though it was fully available. So I asked reception to call them. Turned out this class was free-seating only. I hoped that boarding the 6:30 ferry on a weekday would save me a spot.

As I returned to my favourite for breakfast, I realized I’d lost my wallet.

Damn.

This had never happened to me before. I’d lost plenty of things on this trip, such as my Slytherin gloves, and phone chargers. But not something as vital.

I recalled leaving it on the table at the Irish pub last night and not using it since. This was Japan, so I wasn’t worried, but I was famished. How would I buy food?

Cowboy texted me. He’d just finished working. We met at Susukino crossing for breakfast, and I asked him to wait five minutes for me, as I walked to the pub. (Yes, everything in Susukino was a five-minute walk away.)

The pub was closed until 17:00. As I scoured my bag in the hope of finding my wallet inside somewhere, I found a spare credit card I’d been carrying with me this entire time.

I had breakfast with Cowboy at McDonald’s. He tried calling the pub; no answer. Per his suggestion, we headed to the police box across the street after. He wanted to tag along, in case I needed help with translation, but I knew he was dead tired from his night shift. So for a minute or so he watched me enter the police box, hesitating to leave without helping me.  

Once I described the exact contents of my wallet to the police officers, they said it was already waiting for me at the central police station.

Hallelujah.

I walked for 15 minutes to the station. Everything was inside the wallet, including 40,000 yen in cash I’d withdrawn in preparation for my countryside trips. In Israel, someone would’ve stolen it all.

Hokkaido Museum of Art

Now I could return to my itinerary for today. I walked for 15 minutes to Hokkaido Museum of Art. Two temporary exhibitions had begun showing this weekend during pride.

First Exhibition: The Changing Image of Nihonga (45 minutes)

Same artistic movement as the Yamatane exhibition from last week in Tokyo. Interestingly enough, here there was no mention of western influence.

“Since the end of WW2, amidst waves of societal shifts and evolving values, painters have sought real and resilient artistic expressions. They have gazed deeply into life’s unvarnished truth and the profound aspects of nature, reevaluating materials and techniques while inspired by contemporary art […] the works distinguish themselves from the delicate and graceful image of traditional nihonga.”

There was nothing even remotely Japanese in this collection. The paintings looked like modern western depictions.

After Yamatane, I’d had high expectations. The pairings were basically the “surreal, makes no sense” style, but not the “makes no sense” that I liked. I found them weird just for the sake of being weird, rather than weird for a good reason. Whoever had curated the Yamatane exhibition had done an excellent job.

• Geisha by Nakamura Masayoshi (1962) was striking. Colourful, vivid, pretty, and ominous at once. The geisha seemed like a demon under disguise.
• Mt Fuji by Kataoka Tamako (1964) was an equally bold and colourful and slightly cubist portrait of the mountain.
• Reverse side from the series of sixteen disgraceful arhats by Tanaka Takeshi (2011): the only painting that produced a modern twist on a traditional nihonga. I found the juxtaposition of nihonga (delicate flowers in the foreground, empty background) and modern depiction of a girl with censored eyes removing a mask intellectually engaging. Almost like the artist removing the mask of nihonga.

There were also a couple of paintings by the same artists as in Yamatane, yet works by them that I liked less.

The second floor of this exhibition was titled “art nouveau glass works: reflections of nature”.  I did not care much for those. They seemed tacky next to the simple, elegant, and imperfect Korean and Japanese glassworks I’d seen on this trip.

Then an Ogawara Shu exhibition, a Kutchan native. His style was unique and eclectic; I couldn’t narrow it down to a single description, as he had experimented with various aesthetics throughout the decades. Snow (1940) featured an unexpected perspective of a climber stranded on a snowy mountain.

Second Exhibition: Rediscovering Japanese beauty – Modern Nihonga by Japanese Painters (30 minutes)

This exhibition cost twice as much as the first, and was smaller. The blurb mentioned “awareness of trends in western art” in passing.

It began with traditional nihonga from the turn of the 19^th century.

• Mountain scenery by Yuki Somei (1975): very beautiful and misty.
• Good omen by Yamamoto Shunkyo (1931): breathtaking folding screen art of a mountaintop Chinese temple. If this was what China’s nature looked like, a temple stay there would be next for me.

Then there were the modern, westernized artworks, such as folding screens by Kawabata Ryushi- passion (1934) and Mt Fuji (1934). With no void.

There was Fluffy Snowflakes by Uemura Shoen (1944), which I’d seen in Yamatanae. Presumably a copy? The staff didn’t have an answer for me. Perhaps it had been transferred to this museum for this new exhibition.

Finally, there were some ceramics by Kitaoji Rosanjin from the Adachi Museum of art. Pass.

When the museum closed at 17:00, I took the streetcar back to Susukino (five consecutive days in that cluster of blocks!) to eat something before I passed out. I reached the number one ramen shop in Sapporo, recommended to me by the Morioka woman, when it opened at 17:30.

The line was endless.

So I walked two minutes back to the soup curry place from a few days ago. I realized it had two adjacent branches, one closed, the other where I’d eaten in February. I’d ordered the scallop and seaweed soup curry with cheese on the rice and a potato mochi, apparently a local specialty.

Dessert was those cheese tarts I should’ve eaten for breakfast.

Date Night

For tonight’s accommodation, Cowboy had invited me over. I reached his home with 1% battery left. He lived in the suburbs in a huge loft: same price as Saki from Tokyo, five times the size.

Lady Gaga posters; Gaga and Beyonce vinyl; Disney posters; a graphic black-and-white wallpaper in the living room, with a professional drum set, four pet snakes (one rainbow-colored), and two lizards. A large bedroom with a projector for watching movies, TV, or, in tonight’s case, performances of Taylor Swift. And an attic with a guest bedroom.

He’d barely slept a wink since breakfast this morning, and so we mostly watched videos on the projector on his giant wall, followed by Ready Player One, a movie he’d seen a million times, and I severely disliked. (Spielberg was never my cup of tea.)

At some point into the movie, a loud exhaling from the living room made me jump. The snakes were farting.

At 22:45, right before a branch of Pizza Hut 10-minutes-walk away closed, I headed out to pick up two pizzas.

“Do you need me to come with you?” Cowboy asked, on the verge of becoming Sleeping Beauty and not waking for an eternity. “You won’t get lost?”

“I’ve been traveling by myself for seven months,” I scoffed. He’d told me again earlier tonight that I should be eating more properly.

I’d been calling him Cowboy, while he’d been joking that I was a skeleton.

“Don’t get lost!” he yelled from his bed as I stepped outside.

“Fuck off!” I said and slammed the door.

I liked this dynamic.

My pizza was half potato and corn (potato on dough? weird topping, but when in Rome…) and half four-cheese with a sweet syrup.

Nothing like plastic-y pizza late on a movie night. Everything about this moment – even the movie – was better than going out.

Today’s highlights: McDonald’s fries for breakfast with Cowboy; experiencing the safety of Japan; soup curry, potato mochi, and cheese tarts for lunch; cheap pizza and a night in with Cowboy.

19 September 2023

• Karaoke day
• 23:00-5:30 Odori bus terminal 1 to Wakkanai ferry terminal night bus

A Five-Hour Taylor Swift Karaoke

This morning, I grabbed my last pizza slice from Cowboy’s fridge, now cold and dry, and ate it right away. He was dumbfounded.

“You’re eating it like THAT?”

Disgusting pizza was the best, though. Great breakfast.

I cancelled my day trip to Yoichi (for a tour at the Nikka whisky distillery I’d booked) and Otaru in order to spend today with him. He donned a pale yellow, Japan-exclusive, Lady Gaga t-shirt from her Chromatica Ball in Tokyo, puffy black cargo pants, and black leather boots. Armed with the Japan-exclusive, foldable Lady Gaga umbrella, he looked like the epitome of who I aspired to be.

Since he’d already made plans with a friend for their day off, I’d tagged along. She was a Sapporo native who’d met Cowboy once they’d learned they’d both attend the Reputation Stadium tour in 2018, in Tokyo. She was randomly picked to meet Taylor in person, and cried while posing with her for a photo.

Oh, and they happened to be working at hotels right next door.

Lunch with them today was a vegetable and onsen egg curry, followed by a delicious cheese ice cream at Seico Mart. A Hokkaido-only dessert.

I spotted a corn ice cream there as well, which seemed gross, yet Cowboy said he liked it. Corn was one of this island’s specialties.

Then they taught me that Donki had an underground supermarket floor. Cheaper than a konbini, too. We bought plum wine in preparation of today’s main activity: a five-hour, Taylor-songs-only karaoke.

I needed all the help I could get from the gods for this, and as such, drank three cups of hot chocolate milk from the karaoke’s unlimited drink machine.

My throat was soon hurting from this vocal marathon, which featured no breaks. Drinking plum wine in-between chocolate milk might not have been so smart. I dozed off at some point, not because I was bored (quite the contrary!), but because I’d barely been sleeping since coming to Sapporo.

A Tense Farewell

At 19:30, our time at the karaoke was up. (Who knew how long we’d stay there if it weren’t? I dreaded finding out how long Taylor Swift’s entire discography was.) We browsed some shops and had dinner: my first Round Two okonomiyaki, plus, my first time making it myself.

Delicious! So much fun, to sit at a self-cooking restaurant like this. I ate a squid and green onion okonomiyaki, and then we shared a spicy cod roe and cheese monja.

We left a little after 22:00. The Sapporo native continued home from Odori station, while Cowboy walked me all the way to the bus terminal, and waited with me until departure.

A few days ago, when I’d booked tonight’s trip to Wakkanai, he’d advised me against it. Late September was well past the nearby islands’ peak season. Tomorrow, I would find out if my trip there would be worth it.

As we stood at the bus stop, I wondered if I’d see him again. When I’d met the Korean student in mid-July, I’d left Seoul for six days in the countryside; things with him had gone south after my return. Now I was leaving Sapporo for four days in Japan’s rural, northernmost point.

「楽しかった」(“It was fun”), I said, anxious to break the silence.

He chuckled.

“You’re not dying.”

Right before boarding, he suggested taking my new, annoying umbrella (no rain for the next few days), and giving me a better one upon my return.

Today’s highlights: cheese ice cream; chocolate milk, plum wine, and a Taylor Swift karaoke marathon; the dinner.

My updated ranking of Japanese konbinis:

• Hokkaido’s Seiko Mart
• North Tohoku’s NewDays
• 7/11
• Lawson
• Family Mart

Things I missed about Japan:

• Sapporo being traversable underground
• Elementary school kids wearing bright orange baseball caps during field trips around the city
• Hokkaido’s dairy products

Things I did not miss about Japan:

• Sapporo not having a park at its center. Odori park is just an avenue.