In the Distant Lands of Hokkaido

The southern sun stands high over Hokkaido in its crisp and fleeting spring. By the shores of Lake Poroto, a woman dressed in attush—a traditional tunic woven from the fibers of elm bark—leans over the fire, stirring a steaming ohaw, a nourishing soup of deer meat and wild plants, in a clay vessel. Smoke drifts lazily toward the sky, mingling with the scent of damp wood and pine needles. In the distance, the laughter of children playing with wooden animal figurines blends with the soft twang of bows as young men perfect their archery skills, preparing for the hunt of yuk, the sika deer. By the river, an elder inspects the fishing nets woven from turep, the Ainu lily, while his faithful hunting dog, seta, watches the water intently, waiting for the signal to leap in and drive the salmon straight into the trap. In this land, where everything has its own kamuy, or spirit—from the wind whispering through the treetops to the stones glistening at the riverbed—the life of the Ainu flows in harmony with nature’s rhythm.

Today, Shiraoi looks different. Though the chise—traditional Ainu houses—have long been replaced by modern buildings, and the daily life of the Ainu no longer resembles that of five centuries ago, the spirit of their culture still lingers. In Upopoy, the National Ainu Museum, the songs of their ancestors echo once more; in the reconstructed village by Lake Poroto, visitors can step inside a thatched-roof dwelling, while workshops offer the chance to learn the intricate art of embroidery and woodcarving. Here, one can taste Ainu cuisine, witness the rimse dance, and listen to the vibrating tones of the mukkuri, the Ainu jaw harp. And yet, what once seemed unshakable is now under threat. The Ainu language, in which the word "Shiraoi" may mean both "rainbow" and "a place full of horseflies," teeters on the brink of extinction—by 2007, only ten people were known to still speak it fluently. Today, the estimated number of Ainu in Japan is difficult to determine—some sources cite 17,000, while others suggest up to 200,000 individuals, most of whom have already lost their language and traditions.

For centuries, the world of the Ainu has been shrinking under the weight of history. They were displaced from their ancestral lands, and their culture nearly faded into obscurity under Japanese dominance. Now, they stand at a crossroads—will their language and traditions endure, or will they become mere artifacts in museums? Shiraoi is a place where one can peer into the past and glimpse the traces of their ancient world. It is also a solemn reminder that without memory, without stories whispered by the fire, even the oldest cultures can vanish like the smoke rising from the iworu—the hearth that was once the heart of every Ainu home. Today, I invite you on a journey of imagination through a 15th-century Ainu village, inspired by what we can still see and learn about the Ainu in Shiraoi.

The Village of Shiraoi on the Island of Hokkaido

Beyond the vast kingdom of snow and forests, where the icy wind carries echoes of a distant past over the mountain peaks, stretches Hokkaido—a wild and untamed island. Endless expanses of taiga unfold, their evergreen trees laden with thick layers of snow, guarding the secrets of bygone centuries. Mountains, towering and silent, rise from behind veils of mist, while deep valleys are carved by crystalline ribbons of rivers. In the distance, where the sky meets the waters of the Pacific, lies Shiraoi—a place where we will uncover the culture of the extraordinary Ainu people.

Nestled along the ocean's edge, embraced by dense forests and rolling hills, Shiraoi has long been a sanctuary for the indigenous people of Hokkaido. Its name, understood by some as the "land of rainbows" and by others as "a place full of horseflies," holds within it both poetic mystique and the harsh reality of life on Japan’s northern frontier. Here, in the shadow of the mountains, the Ainu built their chise—thatched-roof houses whose wooden structures seemed to merge seamlessly with the landscape, an organic extension of the earth itself.

In winter, snow wraps Shiraoi in a thick, white blanket, muffling the sounds of the world and making the village seem to drift beyond time. But in spring, the snow melts, and the land, cleansed by winter’s hush, awakens briefly to life. Rivers, sprawling across their wide channels, fill with silvery salmon returning to perform the final dance of their life cycle. In the forests, sika deer move stealthily through the shadows of cedars and larches, while above the treetops, majestic eagles soar—symbols of freedom and strength for generations of Ainu.

Though Shiraoi lies in the north, its climate is gentler than the rest of Hokkaido. Summers, though brief, bring warmth that softens the chill of frozen forests and lakes. Lake Poroto, whose name in Ainu means "great water," is the heart of this land—its surface reflecting the morning mist and the contours of the mountains, while along its shores, the echoes of ancient songs still seem to linger.

It is here, among the whispering forests and murmuring waters, that the Ainu have lived for countless generations—hunters, fishers, and guardians of ancient traditions. Their culture, woven into the rhythms of nature, found one of its most vital centers in Shiraoi. For centuries, this was a place of hunting, sacred rituals, and stories passed down in hushed voices by the firelight. Today, though the village has changed, it remains a place where Ainu history is not merely a memory—it is a living heartbeat, pulsing in the wooden homes, the trails leading into the forest, and the words still spoken in the language of their ancestors.

Let us explore this place together!

A Brief History of the Ainu

Before Shiraoi became a place where the Ainu past is preserved in museums and reconstructions, it was part of a vast world where this people shaped their reality for millennia. The Ainu—a mysterious and proud nation with a rich culture whose roots stretch back to the Jōmon period over two thousand years ago—are the indigenous inhabitants of the northern Pacific arc. Long before the first Japanese settlers arrived on Hokkaido, before Edo was founded, and before the samurai clans marched toward dominance, the Ainu lived here, among the mountains, forests, and rivers, breathing in nature’s rhythm and believing that everything around them possessed a soul.

Though today they are primarily associated with Hokkaido, the Ainu once inhabited a much broader territory—stretching from Sakhalin to the southern Kuril Islands and even northern Honshu. Archaeologists have discovered traces of their ancestors in Yoshinogari and other sites linked to the Jōmon culture (14,000–300 BCE).

Distinct not only in appearance—wavy hair and thick beards set them apart from the Japanese—but also in language, which has no known relatives in Asia, the Ainu developed a belief system deeply tied to reverence for kamuy, the spirits dwelling in rivers, mountains, animals, and even fire and everyday tools. Their mythology speaks of Okikurumi, a legendary hero who taught them the arts of hunting and survival, and of Retarushi, the white wolf believed to be an ancestor of the Ainu people.

For centuries, they thrived in harmony with their surroundings, trading furs, fish, and tools with neighboring peoples—Japanese merchants, Tungusic tribes, and later, Russians. But their world began to shrink rapidly when, during the Edo period (17th–19th century), the Japanese Matsumae clan expanded from the south, while Russian explorers encroached from the north.

By the Meiji era, like many indigenous peoples of the Americas and Siberia, the Ainu had become a minority in their own homeland. It wasn’t until the 20th century that they were officially recognized as Japan’s indigenous people, and in 2020, the National Ainu Museum – Upopoy was opened in Shiraoi, symbolizing a cultural revival (in the 20th century work of Polish researcher Bronislaw Pilsudski much helped with the preservation of the Ainu’s language and culture, more on this here: Poles as Pioneers in Research on the People of Hokkaido – Ainu).

Though many traditions have been lost, the Ainu continue to fight for the preservation of their language and heritage. Once, they were a dynamic, entrepreneurial people—merchants, sailors, and hunters who created an extensive trade network across the Okhotsk Sea, linking diverse cultures.

The History of Shiraoi Village

The name Shiraoi holds a dual nature—one of delicate beauty and another of raw, practical resilience, much like life itself in the wild expanse of Hokkaido. According to one interpretation, it originates from an Ainu word meaning "rainbow," evoking images of shimmering colors reflected in the waters of Lake Poroto after summer rains. Another etymology suggests the word shiraunai, meaning "a place of many horseflies," perhaps referring to the once-marshy lands surrounding the Shiraoi River. Regardless of its true origin, one thing is certain—this land has belonged to the Ainu since time immemorial, a place where life moved in harmony with nature, filled with songs, hunts, and prayers offered to the kamuy, the spirits of the world.

Before the era of Japanese colonization, Shiraoi was a thriving Ainu settlement, strategically located along trade routes that connected southern Hokkaido to Sakhalin and the Kuril Islands. For centuries, its inhabitants traded furs, fish, tools, and textiles, exchanging goods not only with other Ainu clans but also with Japanese merchants arriving from the Matsumae domain. The rivers teemed with salmon, the forests provided deer and bears, and the village was alive with the rising smoke of chise—the traditional Ainu houses—where stories of ancestral spirits and sacred animals were told by the fire. For hundreds of years, Shiraoi remained a bastion of Ainu culture, though storm clouds were beginning to gather over its future.

In the latter half of the 19th century, changes arrived that would alter Shiraoi’s fate forever. In 1867, at the twilight of the Edo period, the Sendai clan built a military fort here to defend Japan’s northern frontier against Russian influence. With the fall of the shogunate and the Meiji Restoration, the Japanese government launched the full-scale colonization of Hokkaido, constructing roads, railways, and implementing an agricultural system that transformed the landscape around the village. The Ainu were pushed to the margins of society, their language banned, and their traditional way of life in harmony with nature began to vanish.

And yet, Shiraoi was not forgotten. Today, paradoxically, the very place where their culture was once suppressed has become a center of its revival. It was here that Upopoy, the National Ainu Museum, was established—a symbol of the renewed recognition of Ainu identity. Though the old settlement has changed, echoes of the past still linger—in the songs, rituals, and stories that resonate through the forests and waters, just as they did centuries ago.

A Walk Through Shiraoi Village, 15th Century

It is late afternoon in spring. The air over Hokkaido is rich with the scent of damp wood and pine needles, and on the horizon, the golden light of the setting sun spreads over the vast forests. The earth, softened by recent rains, is moist beneath our feet, while in the distance, the calls of red-crowned cranes blend with the whispering wind rustling through the fields of reeds. We step back in time—five hundred years into the past, to an era when the Ainu still reigned over this land.

The First Glimpse of the Settlement

From afar, Shiraoi village appears nestled upon a gentle slope, where the Shiraoi-gawa River branches out before flowing into the ocean. The settlement seems like a natural extension of the landscape—low, wooden chise blend seamlessly with their surroundings. Their thatched kayabuki roofs ripple in the breeze, the thick layers of reeds providing insulation against the northern cold. Beyond the village, dense larch and spruce forests stretch into the distance, and above them rises the majestic peak of the sacred Horohoro Mountain.

As we approach the village, we pass nusa—a sacred fence of wooden stakes, upon which inao—thinly carved ritual offerings—are tied. Long, twisted shavings of wood flutter in the wind, carrying whispered prayers to the kamuy, the deities who watch over this land. Nearby, in the tall grass, lie yuk—deer bones, remnants of a recent hunt.

Further ahead, we see pu—raised storage huts perched on stilts, resembling small houses suspended in mid-air. These structures store cep—dried salmon—alongside nuts and preserved meat, safely guarded against moisture and wild animals. Some of the storage huts bear simple geometric carvings—markings of ownership and symbols of protection.

The Homes of the Ainu

We draw closer to one of the chise—the traditional Ainu homes, built from wooden beams and thick reeds. The structure is simple yet sturdy, designed to shield its inhabitants from Hokkaido’s harsh winters and heavy summer rains. The sharply sloped roof allows water to run off quickly, while thick walls provide insulation from the cold.

Stepping inside through a small, mat-covered entrance, we find ourselves enveloped in dim light and the warm, fragrant aroma of smoke and dried herbs. At the center of the room lies the iworu—the hearth, around which the household gathers. Above the fire hangs a shitonpe, a clay pot in which a thick ohaw—a soup of deer meat, wild plants, and roots—simmers slowly. The flames of the iworu never go out, for its fire embodies Kamuy Fuchi, the goddess of fire and guardian of the home, both literally and spiritually.

To the left of the hearth is the rakam—the honored space for guests. This is where travelers and visitors are received, in keeping with the Ainu tradition of hospitality. To the right, in the shadows of wooden beams, lies the space for women and children. The walls are adorned with woven mats and embroidered attush textiles, made from the fibers of elm bark, crafted with patterns meant to ward off evil spirits.

Above the hearth, talismans and amulets are carefully arranged—small wooden figurines, bundles of inao, and ritual cups for tonoto, a fermented grain beverage prepared for sacred ceremonies. Yet, the most sacred place in the house is the eastern window, Kamuy Pu, through which the spirits of the ancestors are believed to enter and leave freely.

A man sitting by the hearth lifts his gaze and clasps his hands in prayer. The afternoon is drawing to a close, but the day in the village is far from over—soon, the time for evening tales will arrive, and the flames of the iworu will dance in the eyes of those gathered, illuminating faces that listen to stories passed down for generations. And so, enchanted by these ancient tales, we sit by the fire late into the night, until sleep finally takes us.

Morning Among the Ainu of Shiraoi

The sun rises over the horizon, its first rays gently brushing against the mist rising from Lake Poroto. The air is filled with the scent of smoke and the rich aroma of simmering ohaw—a hearty soup made with venison and wild plants, carefully prepared by the women over the iworu, the household hearth.

At the edge of the village, men gather, inspecting their yug—bows crafted from elm and birch wood—and ikarkep, arrows coated with poison extracted from aconitum roots. One of them strokes the head of his hunting dog, seta, who will soon set out on the hunt with them. The dogs are not only companions but invaluable assistants—some are trained to chase deer, while others are skilled in herding schools of fish directly into the nets set in the rivers. Unlike in many other cultures, Ainu dogs do not serve solely for land-based hunting but also aid in fishing, a tradition unique to this northern people.

Children run around the chise, laughing and playing with wooden figurines of animals. Some climb onto the raised platforms of pu—storage huts—trying to peek at the village’s supplies. Their mothers call them back, teaching them how to gather wild plants and clean fish, passing down knowledge that has sustained their people for generations.

Daily Activities

As the men disappear into the depths of the forest, the women begin their daily tasks. Some sit on woven mats in front of their homes (on the few warm days available to them), holding attush, fabric woven from elm fibers. Their fingers work skillfully, pulling threads into delicate patterns that will later be embroidered onto clothing. These designs are more than mere decoration—they serve as protection against evil spirits and carry the identity of their clan.

Other women set out into the forest, collecting nuts, chestnuts, and wild herbs. Some return with freshly harvested roots of turep, the Ainu variety of lily (Cardiocrinum cordatum), from which flour is made for times of scarcity.

Meanwhile, by the river, an elderly man repairs fishing nets. Young boys, just beginning their training in the art of fishing, watch intently as he weaves the strong, elastic fibers with precise movements.

The Ainu traditionally crafted their fishing nets from plant fibers, most commonly from turep (Ainu lily roots) and attush (elm bark fibers). Turep was highly valued for its durability, elasticity, and water resistance, making it ideal for weaving both fishing nets and ropes. Attush, derived from the bark of elm trees, was also used to create sturdy threads for sewing nets and repairing tools.

Work and Craftsmanship

Life in the village follows a steady rhythm, and everyone has their role to play. Skilled craftsmen expertly carve tools—makiri, the elaborately decorated knives carried by every Ainu, and ikkari, wooden bowls used both in daily life and in rituals.

Young men who have remained in the village assist in building new itaomachip, the traditional Ainu boats. Their hands move confidently, shaping the wood that will soon carry fishermen out into open waters to catch herring and cod.

Hunting

In the dense forest, the footsteps of the hunters echo softly. They track yuk, the deer, whose prints are pressed into the damp earth. Their arrows, coated with a poison derived from deadly nightshade and fox gall, remain at the ready in their quivers, while their dogs watch every movement with intense focus.

On another side of the forest, an elder prepares for a bear hunt. If he succeeds in capturing one, its spirit will be honored in the iyomante ceremony, a sacred ritual in which the animal’s soul is sent back to the world of the kamuy. The bear is not merely an animal—it is a divine messenger, a gift from nature that must be received with deep gratitude and reverence.

In the river, young boys assist with the fishing. They release the dogs into the water, and the trained animals drive schools of salmon directly into the waiting nets. Each fish caught is seen as a gift from the kamuy, and before it is prepared, prayers are whispered, and an inao—a wooden offering made of twisted shavings—is dedicated to its spirit.

Leisure and Rest

The day passes in steady labor, and as the sun sinks behind the treetops, the village slowly shifts into a different rhythm. The men return from the hunt, the women finish their tasks, and the children gather around the elders to listen to stories.

By the hearth, the resonant sound of the mukkuri, the Ainu jaw harp, fills the air. Its trembling, hypnotic tones blend with laughter and conversation. The elders begin recounting the tales of Okikurumi, the mythical hero who taught the Ainu the arts of hunting and building homes.

On special days, as night falls, the women perform rimse, traditional dances accompanied by rhythmic singing. Their movements are slow, graceful, reminiscent of wind-swayed grasses in the vast fields of Hokkaido.

Rituals and Spirituality

Spirituality permeates every aspect of Ainu life. Before the sacred Kamuy Pu window, the family places offerings to the gods—small inao figurines, symbolizing prayers for bountiful hunts and the well-being of the household.

After a successful hunt, young hunters participate in a ritual of gratitude, speaking prayers to the spirit of the animal, apologizing for taking its life, and asking for future prosperity in the wilderness.

Night falls over Shiraoi. The fire in the iworu flickers against the walls of the chise, shadows stretching across the woven mats. The air is thick with the scent of smoldering herbs, the whispers of old stories, and the breath of a culture that has endured for centuries.

It is the world of the Ainu—a world woven into songs, dances, and rituals, one that persisted unchanged for generations. And yet, in the 20th century, it came perilously close to vanishing forever.

Modern Shiraoi – A Cultural Revival

Today, Shiraoi is a place where the history and culture of the indigenous people of Hokkaido come to life once more, allowing visitors not only to witness but also to experience the daily life, craftsmanship, music, and flavors of the Ainu.

Upopoy – The National Ainu Museum

The most significant landmark in modern Shiraoi is Upopoy (ウポポイ), a word in the Ainu language meaning "singing together." It is more than just a museum—it is the Symbolic Space for Ethnic Harmony, dedicated to preserving and promoting Ainu heritage.

The National Ainu Museum, located within Upopoy, is not a static display of lifeless artifacts but a dynamic space filled with sounds, movement, and interaction. Visitors stepping into its spacious halls can hear whispered recordings in the Ainu language, watch animated retellings of the legend of Okikurumi, the mythical hero, and even learn a few basic words in Ainu—a language that teetered on the brink of extinction for decades (though its situation has slightly improved, it remains highly endangered).

The permanent exhibition is divided into six themes: daily life, spirituality, language, history, interaction with nature, and contemporary Ainu culture. Interactive multimedia stations allow visitors to explore a bird’s-eye view of an ancient Ainu village, touch replicas of traditional embroidered fabrics, and even "listen" to old musical instruments, such as the mukkuri—the Ainu jaw harp, which closely resembles the Slavic drumla.

Beyond its exhibitions, the museum has a deeper mission: to restore pride in Ainu identity and raise awareness about their culture. It is a living space, one that not only tells the story of the Ainu people but actively shapes its next chapter.

Traditional Crafts and Workshops

Shiraoi is not just a place for passive sightseeing—it is a space where visitors can physically engage with and experience Ainu culture. Various workshops held at Upopoy and local artisan studios offer hands-on opportunities to learn traditional Ainu crafts.

One of the most popular activities is attush embroidery, in which intricate patterns are stitched onto clothing made from elm bark fabric. Each design carries its own meaning: spirals and sharp shapes are believed to ward off evil spirits, while delicate lines symbolize rivers and the wind.

Another highlight is wood carving, where participants can craft traditional objects such as ikupasuy—ceremonial prayer sticks used in rituals to offer gifts to the gods. Visitors can also take introductory lessons in the Ainu language, which has a completely different structure and phonetics from Japanese (the two languages are entirely unrelated).

Kotan – The Reconstructed Ainu Village

For those who want to immerse themselves in the atmosphere of a historical Ainu settlement, the best place to visit is Kotan, a reconstructed Ainu village on the shores of Lake Poroto. Walking through the village, visitors can step inside chise, traditional thatched-roof dwellings, and experience life as it was centuries ago.

Some homes are arranged exactly as they would have been in the past: clay pots filled with herbs sit by the iworu, ritual inao amulets hang in the corners of the dwelling, and the air is filled with the scent of dried fish and burning wood. Visitors can even try on Ainu clothing, embroidered with geometric patterns, and appreciate the loose, practical designs suited to the harsh climate of Hokkaido.

Living Culture – Dance, Music, and Hunting Reenactments

The spirit of the Ainu is also brought to life through performances and demonstrations. In the Cultural Exchange Hall (文化交流ホール – Bunka Kōryū Hōru) at Upopoy, concerts and dance performances are regularly held, including the ritual rimse dance, where participants move in a mesmerizing rhythm accompanied by drums and chants.

Visitors can also witness reenactments of traditional hunting techniques—archery displays, fishing methods using trained dogs, and demonstrations of how Ainu hunters once built their ingenious traps. These presentations offer insight into the remarkable skills and resourcefulness of the Ainu in their natural environment.

For those eager to experience Ainu cuisine, there are opportunities to taste ohaw (a rich soup made from wild plants and game) or rataskep, a dish prepared from forest berries, nuts, and chestnuts, slowly cooked over an open flame.

Nature and Landscapes

Shiraoi is not only about culture—it is also a place of stunning natural beauty. Along its shoreline stretches Lake Poroto, whose calm waters reflect the silhouettes of the surrounding mountains and forests. Visitors can take leisurely walks along wooded trails, observe wild birds, and in winter, stroll across the frozen lake’s surface.

During summer, river rafting excursions are available, while winter offers ice fishing and opportunities to witness the migration of seasonal bird species. For those seeking the raw, untamed beauty of Hokkaido, Shiraoi is an ideal destination.

Local Cuisine – Shiraoi Beef and Ainu Flavors

Finally, no visit to Shiraoi would be complete without mentioning Shiraoi beef, renowned for its marbled texture and deep umami flavor. Local restaurants serve it in the form of steaks, sukiyaki, or grilled over hot stones.

However, Ainu specialties are also an essential part of the culinary experience—visitors can sample dried fish, wild herbs, chestnuts, and the unique ruybe—thin slices of frozen raw salmon, served cold.

Conclusion

For centuries, the culture of the Ainu, the indigenous people of northern Japan, was systematically marginalized. Assimilation policies, especially during the Meiji era, led to bans on traditional Ainu rituals and the suppression of their language. As a result, many Ainu abandoned their heritage, striving to integrate into the dominant Japanese society.

Today, the exact number of Ainu people is difficult to determine. Estimates range from 17,000 individuals in northern Japan to as many as 200,000, depending on the criteria used to define Ainu identity. Unfortunately, the Ainu language remains critically endangered. As of 2007, it was spoken fluently by only ten individuals.

Despite these alarming statistics, there is a glimmer of hope. In recent years, numerous initiatives have been launched to revitalize Ainu culture and language. Educational programs, craft workshops, and cultural festivals continue to raise awareness and foster pride in Ainu heritage. However, the future of this extraordinary culture depends on the dedication of the Ainu community and the support of the broader society.

>> SEE ALSO SIMILAR ARTICLES:

Poles as Pioneers in Research on the People of Hokkaido – Ainu

Rōnin in the Valley of Hell – Noboribetsu on Hokkaido as a Place of Redemption for Fallen Samurai

Time Stood Still When I Looked at Hiroshige’s “Evening Snow in the Village of Kanbara”

Winter Whispering Dreams: 10 Names for Snow in the Japanese Language

Yukiguni – What Life Lessons Can Be Learned from Japan’s Snow Country?

"Strong Japanese Women"

see book by the author

of the page

    未開    ソビエライ

 An enthusiast of Asian culture with a deep appreciation for the diverse philosophies of the world. By education, a psychologist and philologist specializing in Korean studies. At heart, a programmer (primarily for Android) and a passionate technology enthusiast, as well as a practitioner of Zen and mono no aware. In moments of tranquility, adheres to a disciplined lifestyle, firmly believing that perseverance, continuous personal growth, and dedication to one's passions are the wisest paths in life. Author of the book "Strong Women of Japan" (>>see more)

Personal motto:

"The most powerful force in the universe is compound interest." - Albert Einstein (probably)

  Mike Soray

   (aka Michał Sobieraj)

未開    ソビエライ

 An enthusiast of Asian culture with a deep appreciation for the diverse philosophies of the world. By education, a psychologist and philologist specializing in Korean studies. At heart, a programmer (primarily for Android) and a passionate technology enthusiast, as well as a practitioner of Zen and mono no aware. In moments of tranquility, adheres to a disciplined lifestyle, firmly believing that perseverance, continuous personal growth, and dedication to one's passions are the wisest paths in life. Author of the book "Strong Women of Japan" (>>see more)

Personal motto:

"The most powerful force in the universe is compound interest." - Albert Einstein (probably)

Mike Soray

(aka Michał Sobieraj)

Write us...

Ciechanów, Polska

dr.imyon@gmail.com

___________________

inari.smart

Would you like to share your thoughts or feedback about our website or app? Leave us a message, and we’ll get back to you quickly. We value your perspective!