Mo Yan from Hokkaido On December 26, 2004, under the careful planning of Mao Danqing, a writer living in Japan, and Mr. Hideki Takada, director of the Economic Exchange Office of Sapporo City, the capital of Hokkaido, in Beijing, I embarked on a tour with a group of Chinese writers and reporters.
The long-awaited land of Hokkaido.
The journey lasted twelve days and covered three thousand miles.
During this time, I saw countless wonderful sights and ate many delicious foods.
I have experienced unique feelings such as "open-air baths" and seen magical creatures such as "Curione".
These are all shown in the beautiful articles and photos of fellow journalists compiled in this book. I know that my writing is poor and I dare not repeat them.
But regarding the style of this book, I must have an article.
I have no choice but to write down what you, gentlemen and ladies, have not written.
I secretly believe that what attracts tourists to this holy tourist destination in the world is not only beautiful scenery and delicious food, but also beautiful people.
Beauty here does not only refer to beautiful women, nor does it only refer to people's beautiful appearance. What can comfort the hearts of travelers for a long time is the simplicity, kindness, dedication and many other virtues displayed by the local people.
Organizing your thoughts is like looking through photos stored in a digital camera.
The first thing that came to mind was Ishikawa Takuboku in Odori Park, Sapporo City.
This is a dead poet, and the one taking the photo with me is his bronze statue.
Because of his haiku: "On an autumn night, the streets are filled with the aroma of roasting corn", I feel that he and I have a close connection.
The quiet and dark autumn night, the corn-roasting stove on the street corner, the bright lights, the lingering smoke, the fragrant smell, the lonely night walker and the lonely corn-roasting person are all frozen in simple poems
, in imagination, it can be restored immediately, just like the magical green algae, even if it has been dry for a hundred years, it can be revived when soaked in water.
Because of his poetry, he actually gained immortality.
Then there is the female college student named Xiaoqian Xingzi from the Dacangshan Ski Resort. She is wearing a red ski suit, her long eyelashes painted with mascara are covered with white frost flowers, and her face is as red as a red plum in the snow.
Permeated with a healthy and upward spirit.
I talked to her while cameras filmed in the background and reporters circled around to take photos.
She's a little shy, but she's such a good girl.
She said that she was a second-year student at Hokkaido University, majoring in physics. She came here to ski not for fame, but out of interest, hope for adventure, and to exercise her courage.
We saw her graceful figure flying down in the sky both at the foot of the mountain and on the mountain.
I asked her if she felt like flying like an eagle at the moment of leaping into the sky. She smiled but did not answer, her smile was pure and childish.
The next person who appeared was the smiling proprietress of the Chlorella Tea House, Ikuko Takada, a frail middle-aged woman.
Her teahouse is a narrow space with a circle of tables surrounding the workbench.
The roof was black and shiny from years of smoke and fire, as if it were painted with glaze.
Such a small place actually squeezed in eighteen of us diners.
We gathered around her, watched her operate, and waited for her to share the delicious food with us.
She is the boss lady, the chef, and the waiter.
The scene at that time reminded me of a mother and her children sitting around a table, and also of a bird's nest with little birds stretching their necks, waiting for the mother bird to come and feed.
This association is inconsistent with our identity and age, and seems a bit hypocritical. However, this association still moves me to this day.
I will never forget the hard work and humility of Japanese women and the heartfelt enthusiasm and gratitude of Japanese businessmen to their customers.
That night, we tasted a lot of amazing delicacies. The delicacies will eventually be forgotten, but the tired smiling face of the proprietress shrouded in smoke will be remembered by us for the rest of our lives.
Mr. Ishida Isamu, a horse breeder at the Kentucky Ranch in the Hidaka region, seemed to be standing in front of me at this moment.
Tall and burly body, with the unique heroic look of a man who can tame a fierce horse.
The cold wind is biting, the snowy fields are vast, and purebred British horses are galloping on the racecourse.
This is a man who understands horse language and is also an ambitious entrepreneur.
He also has a horse farm in Tongzhou District, Beijing, and plans to build several more horse farms in northwest China.
He believes that in the near future, there will be many places in mainland China that need horses as elegant as swans.
In his warm and spring-like beach house, we drank piping hot coffee and talked horses with him.
He is very familiar with all kinds of famous horses in the world and knows the horse farms all over China.
This is a man who truly understands and loves horses. Even many of his expressions are similar to those of horses.
He provided us with a horse recipe: oats, alfalfa, sunflower seeds, honey, garlic, miso? What a treat, these happy horses.
After coming out of his house, we climbed to the observation deck of the ranch and saw several riders showering the horses that had just exercised.
Behind his house, the gray waves of the Pacific crashed against the rocks with a lazy roar.
Following the horse breeders was Sakuma Kanichi, a cattle breeder from Soda Ranch in Akan Town.
He wore high non-slip rubber shoes and thin overalls, with a purple face and neck, thick fingers, cracked skin, and his body exuded the smell of forage mixed with cow dung.
We were wearing heavy clothes and were shivering, but he looked calm and seemed not to feel the cold.
He took us to see the cows, the feed farm, the milking workshop and the milk storage tanks.