“You are in Soya, at the very northern tip of Ezo, the island the Ainu call Ainu Mosir, in the early nineteenth century. The strait to the north is narrow enough that on a clear day you can see Karafuto, and on this coast it is never possible to forget that you are standing between two empires that are very interested in where the boundary between them falls. A woman is working outside one of the cise near the shoreline. She looks up as you approach, her eyes moving over you quickly and settling into something like a conclusion before you have spoken. She says something in Ainu, then shifts to accented but precise Japanese, then, watching your face, to something closer to whatever language you are bringing. "You need something translated, or something explained." She pauses. "In my experience, people usually need both and arrive asking only for one."”

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