Irei no Hi
Irei no Hi
Okinawa Memorial Day (慰霊の日, Irei no Hi) is a public holiday observed in Japan's Okinawa Prefecture annually on June 23 to remember the lives lost during the Battle of Okinawa. It is not celebrated nationally throughout Japan. The Battle of Okinawa was the only ground engagement of the Pacific War fought on Japanese soil. Over 240,000 people died and numerous buildings on the island were destroyed along with countless historical documents, artifacts and cultural treasures. It is estimated that about the half of the war victims were local Okinawan residents, among them children.
SAGARIBANA PROJECT to wish everlasting peace
Vancouver Okinawa Taiko will join the Sagaribana Project and
perform Eisa dancing with the song from 8pm at Ichari-Van Night.
Let’s spread the words, stories, and the culture left behind by the Okinawan ancestors, never to be forgotten. June 23, 2024, the Memorial Day for the Battle of Okinawa, as a tribute to honour and remember – never to forget –
the families, children, elders, soldiers, and all those who lost their lives in the war.
The Tale of Sagaribana
I was born around the time when Okinawa experienced a turbulent period in 1964. In December 1970, the Koza Riot, triggered by resentment against American military rule, began, leading to the start of the movement for Okinawa's return to mainland Japan. On May 15, 1972, Okinawa officially returned to Japan as Okinawa Prefecture, transitioning from being under American governance and the Ryukyu government. It was an exciting era to grow up in. Coming from a complex family background, I was born as the youngest in a prolific family. With a significant age gap between me and my older siblings, walking with my parents often led to being mistaken for my grandparents, which always left me feeling embarrassed. My father, who loved alcohol, would drink and play the sanshin every night, which was his only pleasure. I would sit beside him, and to my drunken father, I would ask questions like, "Why does awamori smell so bad but taste so good?" or to my father, who skillfully played the sanshin with his thumb and little finger due to the absence of his index, middle, and ring fingers on his right hand, I would inquire, "What happened? Why don't you have fingers?" I would ask incessantly, despite my older siblings' fear of our father. Instead of my father, who didn't like to talk about the past, my mother spoke up, saying, "Everyone, we don't want to talk about past memories because they involve unpleasant experiences from the war that are different from now."
Feeling even more curious, I persistently asked, "But why? Why?" My father spoke with a heavy heart, beginning with a story of losing his fingers in the Battle of Okinawa in 1945 and losing siblings and cousins. The American military attacks started from the sea and sky in the dark of night, with shells blowing like a storm. Panic spread among relatives living nearby, and my parents fled with my two older sisters, then aged 3 and 2, and my brother, about 1 year old, from our village in Nago to the present-day Misaki Shrine. My mother stumbled in a ditch, her knees giving way, seemingly broken, amidst the deafening blasts.
[Below is the story he directly heard from his parents he retells in Okinawan dialect:]
In Okinawan dialect: Hingiti ikumi soreh, unige hyaibi ikutuu, hingitii, kumi soore My injured mother, begging my father: "Please run away, I beg you, please run away." In Okinawan dialect: Wara baataa, sotii, hingiti ikumi sooreh. My mother insisted: "Please take the children and run away!" In Okinawan dialect: Iyaauchi, hingi shaka neh, majun, shinu shie mashi, uchi karann My father replied: "Leaving you behind, it's better to die together, I can't leave you." In Okinawan dialect: Wann, niganikai, uppa, sukutou My father insisted: "Ride on my back.”
My father carried my mother on his back, who held our eldest son, while my father firmly grasped the hands of my two older sisters and dragged the crying children toward the northern Haneji direction. We struggled through thickets and untrodden paths, approximately 12 to 13 kilometres from the present-day Haneji Middle School area in the city, where the road disappeared completely. Gasping for breath as if forgetting to breathe in the desperate darkness illuminated by the flashes of artillery shells raining down like grey clouds in the sky, one might call it fleeing from hell. The "Agari-dake (Agari hill)" mentioned in the lyrics refers to Haneji Tano-dake, with an elevation of 385 meters, where we hid near the summit, holding our breath to escape the thunderous explosions.
As dawn broke and the sound of bombings ceased, we thought the American forces had retreated. We pushed through the trees at the summit and looked out over the western and eastern coastlines. On the coastline, an uncountable number of American and Allied fleet warships surrounded the island, leaving our parents stunned and powerless. They recounted feeling as if Japan had lost, with warplanes dancing in the eastern sky where the Okinawan Sun God rises. Later, our parents were captured and held in a prisoner-of-war camp in Haneji. After some time, our eldest son passed away from malaria, while our two sisters, despite suffering from malnutrition, managed to survive. Even after that, we heard this story several times, and my mother said this: "If your father had left your mother behind, you wouldn't have been born. Despite many hardships, I'm glad that you children have grown up. Be grateful to your strong father." These memories of childhood came flooding back as she spoke.
From Okinawa to the world,
the voice of peace "命どぅ宝"
One summer night in 2021, during an event at the performance square next to the towering Hinpun Gajumaru at the entrance to Nago city (in Okinawa), I was lured by the scent of a flower. As I followed the scent, I was moved by the beautiful blooming Sagaribana (Barringtonia) flower, tempted by its fragrance that blossomed at night and scattered in the morning. It was as if I was transported into the realm of romance. I happened to receive a request for lyrics from YUME-san, a female singer from outside the prefecture. I remembered that shehad once before told me that the sad history of Okinawa's war is something only locals might understand, and that she wanted to try singing a tune that would be a good fit for both Eisā and for her as well.Taking inspiration from the flower language assigned for Sagaribana, which was "happiness visits," I created the original lyrics. With her composition and advice from a friend, it became a complete song. The combination of piano music and Eisā was a brand-new endeavour for me. Shortly after the collaborative performance was launched with her sponsorship, all the performances were suddenly suspended due to the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic. After two years had passed, finally in August 2023, I took the plunge and performed only with the group, REQUIOS at an event organized by children and youth. Inspired to witness the significant improvement in the choreography since its inception, I once again approached YUME-san for a joint performance. With renewed confidence that we could captivate the audience with more heartfelt songs and dances, I embarked on the “*Nuchidu-Takara, Sagaribana Project," a fusion of song and Eisa, with the intention of connecting hearts in remembrance and spreading the message of Peace to the World.