A Not So Brief Note on The Showashinzan Bear Park

When we first arrived in Toya, James and I were shown around and introduced to many people in the area. We saw some interesting places and met some really cool people but one thing that still resonates in my mind is the Showashinzan Boku-Jo, also known as the Showashinzan Bear Park. We had been told that there were bears in the area and that although coming across one in the wild was a rare sight we could visit the bear park and see them. Intrigued we asked some of the locals about it and sure enough they encouraged  us to visit it saying the bears we're "really cute" and that you could even feed them. Our curiosity now thoroughly sparked, we quickly picked up a timetable and arranged a time to go. We briefly flicked through the pamphlet which was filled with pictures of bears young and old standing tall and proud displaying their sheer size and majesty in grassy fields. The pamphlet was called "Showashinzan Boku-Jo, The King of Hokkaido". This seemed to hint at the bears sheer size and dominance in the food chain whilst portraying them in a somewhat dignified manner. Sadly, when we arrived it was quite different from what we expected and worlds away from what was portrayed in the brochure.

The first thing that we noticed as we walked in through the gates was the smell, not necessarily a bad smell but you could tell by scent alone that there had been a high number of animals concentrated into a relatively small area. We strolled up to the first of the bear enclosures housing the youngest bears. It had been dubbed "Bear Nursery" and contained a dozen or so despicably cute baby bears on a climbing frame complete with a slide. I won't lie, it was thoroughly adorable but it was somewhat marred by the sounds coming from the other enclosures. Deafening roars and bone chilling snarls filled the air and as I walked towards the other sections of the park I wasn't entirely sure what to expect.  I peered over a waste high rail down into what can only be described as a grey pit in the floor. Looking back at me were a dozen or so huge, fully grown, brown bears. They looked at me with a certain intent in their eyes which I found quite bewildering at first but I was quickly informed that they we're expecting me to throw food down to them. I was directed to vending machine where I could buy bear food and as I skipped back to the rail bouncing in anticipation with a bag of bear pellets in hand I felt a sudden dropping sensation in my stomach. It was only at this point that I stopped to properly observe my surroundings and I quickly noticed the squalor in which the bears were living.

Some of the Bears at Showashinzan

My eyes scanned the baron, grey pit with its high concrete walls stretching about ten meters up to where I was standing. Bear faeces littered the floor and there were a variety of paw prints left from where the bears had walked through their own excrement. Some were marked with scars and patches of missing fur from clashes with the other bears. Initially I wasn't sure how this could have happened but I soon realized as I watched another attendee of the park throw his pellets into the enclosure. The bears stood up and clapped their paws to attract attention, obviously something they had been taught by the park owners to make them seem "cute". The description of the bears clapping for food in a "cute" manner echoed in my mind and I felt a grim sense of irony wash over me. As the bears stood and clapped for the onlookers food was thrown down to them. Occasionally a poorly aimed throw would cause the pellet to land in between two neighboring bears and unless one of them backed down immediately they would attack each other in a terrifying display of raw power. All of a sudden those "don't feed the animals" signs I had previously seen in zoos at home made sense and I now understood how the bears had gotten their scars. Furthermore, I was feeling much less inclined to throw the pellets in my hand into the enclosure.

Positively adorable! Right?

Now feeling thoroughly uncomfortable with what I was seeing I meandered around the rest of the park. The other enclosures had similarly depressing scenes with bears walking around in circles out of sheer boredom and clapping for food as other park goers gleefully threw down pellets. I soon found myself standing in front of a small cage with about three bears in it. Their loud moans echoed through the air and it I swear it sounded as if they were crying. One of them sat rattling the bars and as I stood starring at it the reality sunk in; this was not a bear park, it was a bear prison. The stacks of rusting cages used to capture the bears at the back of the park reinforced this image in my mind.

As we turned to leave a class of children on a school trip arrived. They promptly bought apples and pellets and proceeded to hurl them into the cages. Unlike those who I'd seen before hand, these children threw the food at the bears rather than to them. Every so often a bear would misjudge the oncoming apple and it would collide with its head. Failing to hold back flinches every time this happened I hurried towards the doors past dozens of laughing students and teachers throwing food at the bears. It all began to remind me of some Victorian freak show. However there was one last gem left for me. Just as we were leaving I heard a peculiar sound. Something that resembled the drumming of hundreds of finger nails on a desk. It was the clattering of the bears claws off the concrete floor as they paced around in circles without any grass or anything other than concrete to walk on. A sense of anger and injustice began to well up in me and as I walked past the entrance poster with a bear standing tall and proud with the words "The King of Hokkaido" written above it I realized that absolutely nothing could be further from the truth.