August 2 is approaching. An immensely important day in Japan – but why? It is a celebration that, in a curious and roundabout way, unites the cultures of our two nations – Poland and Japan (or at least Ainu Japan). There, at the foot of the majestic Mount Yōtei on the island of Hokkaidō, preparations are in full swing: the streets of the town of Kutchan transform into promenades of dancing people, the air is filled with the aroma of roasted jaga and fried korokke, and children gear up for the Jaga Odori dance. Thus, August 2 links two distant worlds. Not rice, not sushi, not miso. The potato! The good old spud. Or, as they say in Kutchan: じゃがいも (jagaimo). On August 2, the region of Shiribeshi hosts the great Potato Festival – Jaga Matsuri!
For Poles, the potato is a serious matter – almost a national symbol. But even in Japan, or at least in the distant and cold lands of Hokkaidō, the potato has nothing to be ashamed of. It is here, on this northern island with its fertile soil and cool climate, that some of the country’s – and perhaps Asia’s – best potatoes are grown. One variety in particular, danshaku imo, or the “baron potato,” holds a status verging on the aristocratic. From this culinary heritage emerged something more than just a delicious dinner – the Jagamatsuri (じゃが祭り), the Potato Festival, was born. “Jaga” is a shortened form of jagaimo, and matsuri simply means a festival, fair, celebration – a time when the whole town takes to the streets to rejoice together, thank the farmers, and, well, perform the potato dance – Jaga Odori.
The earliest seeds of this spud-centered celebration go back to the 1930s, when local “industry and tourism festivals” were held, but Jagamatsuri in its current form was born in 1976. At one point, there was even an attempt to rename it something more fiery (Yōtei Hi Matsuri – the Fire Festival), but the potato triumphed. Today, the festival draws several thousand participants – children and adults dressed in jaga-nebuta costumes pulling colorful floats, elders who remember the first editions, and even guests from the sister city in Kagoshima, where the sweet potato reigns. There are dances, competitions, performances, food stalls, and a collective “thank you” to the land. For although Japan loves its rice, at least once a year, in the heart of Hokkaidō, the king of the table is… the potato. So – let us take a closer look today at the history and unfolding of this matsuri – join me!
Let’s start with the question every linguistic sleuth asks: what exactly does “Kutchan Jaga Matsuri” mean? It sounds cheerful and potato-laden, but let us examine the word with the microscopic precision of a linguist – breaking it down into three components: くっちゃん・じゃが・祭り.
First up is くっちゃん (Kutchan) – the name of the town where the festival takes place. Though it is currently written in kanji as 倶知安, which could be interpreted as something like “shared peaceful understanding,” these characters are purely phonetic decoration. Their meaning is secondary, even misleading – a classic case of ateji, the Japanese custom of assigning kanji based on sound rather than meaning.
The true roots of the name Kutchan lie in the Ainu language – that of the indigenous people of Hokkaidō. The word クシャニ (kushani) means “a place where water flows out of something resembling a pipe” or, more poetically, “a gushing outlet like from a little tube.” It likely referred to the way the river squeezes through narrow valleys and channels – a geographic metaphor common in Ainu toponymy.
So: くっちゃん = Kutchan = kushani = a watery pipe with a view of potatoes.
Long live geolinguistics.
Part two – じゃが (jaga) – is nothing more than a shortened form of the word じゃがいも (jagaimo), which means “potato.” But that’s just the beginning of this potato story. Let’s start at the end: いも (imo / 芋) is the general Japanese word for “tuber” or “edible root.” It has its own proper kanji: 芋, made up of: 艹 – the plant radical (meaning “grass,” “leaf,” “green”), and 于, the phonetic component, which gives it sound (though nowadays rarely used alone). The character 芋 also appears in words like さつまいも (satsumaimo) – sweet potato, or ながいも (nagaimo) – long potato, i.e. yam.
But what about じゃが? That’s not a native Japanese word. In fact, it comes from ジャガタライモ (jagataraimo) – the “potato from Jakarta”! During the Edo period, potatoes reached Japan from Southeast Asia via Portuguese and Dutch trade routes, specifically through Batavia (modern-day Jakarta). Japan, closed off from the world at the time, accepted limited goods through the port of Nagasaki – and the potato, as an exotic novelty, was tagged as a “Jakarta root.”
Over time, the long jagataraimo was shortened to jagaimo, and from there it was a short step to the sweet, handy jaga (じゃが).
Finally, we arrive at the last part – 祭り (matsuri). It’s a word that Japanese people (and all anime lovers) intuitively understand – as a festival, holiday, street event. But it’s worth taking a look at its kanji: 祭.
This character consists of two key components:
– 示 (the radical meaning “altar,” “offering,” “divinity”) – often seen in characters related to religion, ritual, and spirituality (e.g., 神 – god, 社 – Shintō shrine).
– 又 – a symbol of the hand or repetition, but also of active presence, action.
Thus, 祭 means “an act toward the divine,” “a sacrificial ritual,” “a celebration that connects people and kami.” Indeed, original matsuri had a purely religious character, tied to local Shintō traditions and harvest thanksgiving rites. Over time, the sacred blended with the festive – parades, dances, food, stalls, and contests emerged. Today, matsuri is both prayer and popcorn. Both dance and spirituality. Both korokke and contemplation.
Literally:
“Potato Festival in Kutchan,”
And “poetically”:
“A celebration of gratitude for the tuber from Jakarta in the place where water flows like through a pipe.”
Not bad for three humble components, right?
There are places that look as if they were drawn by a Japanese sumi-e painter: a sharp mountain line cuts through the sky, silent forests rise around it, valleys steam with mist, and rivers lazily spill down the hillsides. Such is Kutchan – a small town on Hokkaidō, nestled at the foot of the majestic Mount Yōtei (羊蹄山), also known as “Ezo-Fuji” for its near-perfectly symmetrical shape reminiscent of Fuji-san (with Ezo being a somewhat outdated and slightly pejorative term for Hokkaidō). It is here, in the shadow of this volcanic giant, that Japan’s most potato-filled festival – Jagamatsuri – unfolds every year.
What makes this place so naturally suited to potatoes? First – the soil. The volcanic earth surrounding Mount Yōtei is rich in minerals, perfectly permeable, and fertile – soil that practically invites planting. Second – the climate. Kutchan enjoys four distinct seasons: frigid, snowy winters (with January averaging around -15°C) and mild, moderately warm summers (July and August averaging around 20–22°C), without the scorching heat that could harm crops. And finally – the water. Groundwater and river water from Yōtei’s melting snow is clean, soft, and rich in oxygen. As if nature were saying: “You have everything you need. Plant.”
It’s no wonder then that here, potatoes are not just vegetables – they are part of the identity. In Kutchan’s agriculture, nearly half of all production is dedicated to potatoes – especially varieties such as:
– Danshaku Imo (男爵いも) – the “baron potato,” a king of the classics, starchy and aromatic, perfect for purée and korokke,
– Kita Akari (きたあかり) – literally “northern light,” a potato with a deep flavor, slightly sweet, ideal for salads and steaming,
– Tōya (とうや) – milder, velvety in texture, less distinctive in aroma, but favored by chefs for its versatility.
These are no ordinary spuds – they are heroes of the local economy and cuisine, each with their own personality, uses, and… faces. Literally.
Meet Jaga Tarō (じゃが太くん) and Jaga-ko-chan (じゃが子ちゃん) – the official mascots of the town of Kutchan and indispensable celebrities of Jagamatsuri (yes, indeed – every small town in Japan has its mascots; more on yuru kyara here: Fur That Earns Billions – Yuru-kyara, or How Every Japanese Town Has Its Own Adorably Awkward Mascot). Jaga Tarō is a skiing potato with a wide smile and a hat resembling Mount Yōtei. He represents not only local crops but also the winter identity of a region famous for the ski resorts of Niseko. His companion, Jaga-ko-chan, is a more modern touch – a pink, adorable character who adds a sprinkle of sweetness to the festival. Both appear on posters, T-shirts, balloons, and even birthday cards for local officials.
Kutchan is thus a place where the potato is not merely a side dish – it is a source of pride, a symbol of economic resilience, the reason for a celebration, and a cultural emblem. All this, at the foot of one of the most beautiful mountains in Japan. It’s hard to imagine a better backdrop for dancing people and steaming pots.
Like any proper tuber, Jagamatsuri has roots – deep, branching, and reaching back to prewar Hokkaidō. Before potatoes danced in the streets of Kutchan, the town was alive with another celebration: 産業観光まつり (Sangyō Kankō Matsuri), or the “Festival of Industry and Tourism.” Inaugurated in 1938, it was a local initiative to promote the economy and attract visitors to the mountainous Shiribeshi region. Though potato-themed elements were still absent, the festival already celebrated harvests, showcased artisanal goods, and promoted regional products – and the potato, as the main agricultural commodity, was slowly emerging as a local hero.
After the war, the festival went through various transformations – in the 1960s and 70s, it briefly appeared under the name 羊蹄火まつり (Yōtei Hi Matsuri) – “Fire Festival at the Foot of Yōtei.” It sounded proud and spectacular, but the potato – true to its nature – prefers the concrete to the dramatic, a warm atmosphere over pomp. The townspeople decided to focus on what truly united them – shared land, shared effort, and shared supper. And so in 1976, the Kutchan Jagamatsuri (くっちゃんじゃが祭り) – the “Potato Festival of Kutchan” – was officially born.
It wasn’t just a name change – it was a shift in soul. The main goal of the festival became to express gratitude to the farmers who, in Hokkaidō’s harsh climate, face short summers and long winters to grow crops that feed the entire region. The second goal was to promote the potato as a local treasure – both culinary and cultural. The third – to build community. For Jagamatsuri is not only a festival of potatoes – it’s a celebration of neighbors, children, shopkeepers, artists, and elders who have known each other for years. Shared dances, parades, contests, and songs create a space where everyone can feel part of something greater.
The festival hasn’t always looked the way it does today. In the 1980s, Jagamatsuri lasted as long as five days – stretching from the end of July to the first week of August, with various cultural events, performances by local schools, agricultural exhibitions, and sports competitions. Over time, adapting to changing realities, the celebration was shortened – first to three days, and today it takes place over two intense days, usually during the first weekend of August. But intensity hasn’t suffered – on the contrary. A shorter schedule means a denser concentration of attractions and constant buzz: a parade, dances, fireworks displays, contests, artistic performances, food stalls, kids’ zones, and of course, countless potato-based dishes – from classic jaga butter to creative fusion cuisine.
One of the most endearing aspects of the festival’s history is its inter-city partnership with Ibusuki in Kagoshima Prefecture – a warm, subtropical region at the southern tip of Japan, where not the humble potato, but the sweet potato (satsumaimo) reigns supreme. Over the years, Kutchan and Ibusuki have exchanged cultural delegations, hosted one another, set up joint stalls and events, culminating in unofficial “tuber battles”: potato versus sweet potato, north versus south. And though no winner was ever officially declared, everyone knows that at a shared table, flavor always triumphs.
When the first weekend of August arrives, the usually peaceful town of Kutchan becomes unrecognizable. Ekimae Dōri (駅前通り) – the main street running from the train station – is completely closed to car traffic and transforms into a lively pedestrian avenue. For two days, a wave of laughter, music, aromas, and color floods through it. Against the majestic backdrop of Mount Yōtei stretch rows of food stalls, stages, game booths, and live performances that attract residents and tourists from all over Hokkaidō – and even from abroad.
What do people eat during Jagamatsuri? It’s a question everyone asks the moment they smell the air. Potatoes reign supreme – in every imaginable form. At the top of the list are korokke (potato croquettes in a crispy breading, often with meat or vegetables), potato gratin baked with cheese and milk, and of course the classic jaga butter (じゃがバター) – roasted potatoes with butter, served in paper boats, perfect for eating while standing. There’s also mashed potatoes, which in Japan tend to be softer and milkier than in Europe (and a bit bland, by our standards).
Beyond the potato delicacies, the usual festival favorites also make an appearance: aromatic yakisoba, steaming takoyaki octopus balls, and rainbow-colored syrup-drenched kakigōri shaved ice – the ultimate refreshment on a summer day.
But Jagamatsuri is not only about food – it is, above all, about movement and shared joy.
Colorful parades roll through the streets, the most recognizable of which is the Jaga Odori (じゃが踊り) – the Potato Dance. The choreography is simple, easy to learn, and deliberately designed so that anyone – regardless of age or ability – can join in. On Saturday evening, the Jaga Sen'nin Odori (じゃが千人踊り), or “Dance of a Thousand People,” takes place. Participants in matsuri costumes, children from local schools, elderly residents, tourists, and even the mayor sway to the rhythm of a local melody, forming a massive serpent of joy and togetherness.
Another spectacular highlight is the Jaga Nebuta (じゃがねぶた) – colorful floats reminiscent of the famous Nebuta Festival in Aomori. Instead of mythological or legendary warriors, here appear… potatoes with faces, the mascots “Jaga Tarō” and “Jaga-ko-chan,” animated scenes from the life of a farmer – all illuminated from within by lanterns and pulled by singing groups of children and adults.
On the main stage, a nonstop showcase of local talent runs across both days. From the rhythmic beats of taiko drums, to children’s dance groups, to performances of youth hip-hop and singing. Schools, community centers, local artists, and enthusiasts all take the stage – it belongs to everyone.
For the youngest festivalgoers, a special zone is set up – inflatable slides, skill-based games with the potato as the main character (e.g., tuber toss), contests for the best farmer costume, and tricycle races. The atmosphere evokes a picnic from the pre-smartphone era – honest, loud, and full of emotion.
The finale? As befits a true matsuri – a fireworks display that lights up the night sky over Kutchan’s fields and silhouettes the dark outline of Mount Yōtei. For several minutes, radiant fans, streamers, and rosettes flash in the sky, echoing off the mountains and water. It’s a symbolic conclusion – a thank you to the land, the people, and the potato itself for another year of shared joy.
Jagamatsuri is not just about dancing, food, and fanfare. It is the festival of a small town, a small community – full of memories and emotions preserved by every street in Kutchan. Children who once marched in the parade dressed as little potatoes now bring their own children to the festival. The circle closes, and the community endures.
One of the most moving elements is the uchiwa – traditional fans handmade by local students. The best of these have been preserved for decades and are exhibited each year – evoking deep emotions and memories among older residents.
And the potato itself? Here it becomes something more than just a vegetable. It is a local totem, a culinary hero, and a reminder that true richness lies in the ordinary. In the simplicity of the roasted jaga with butter is hidden an entire story about land, people, labor, and celebration.
Can a potato be a bridge between cultures? Absolutely. In Poland, we affectionately call it pyra or kartofel; in Japan – with a smile – it’s jaga. In both countries, this unassuming, tuberous companion of meals holds a special place. It may not win any elegance contests, but it wins hearts.
The fact that we celebrate food says a lot about who we are. It is not just a way to feel full – it is an expression of gratitude. For the harvest, for the shared table, for the fact that despite our differences, we can laugh, dance, and… fry potatoes together. In a world of divisions, the potato festival is a joyful affirmation of the ordinary and the shared.
When to go? The first weekend of August – the festival usually takes place on August 2nd and 3rd. It’s worth checking the exact dates on the official website of Kutchan.
Where? In the town center, mainly on Ekimae Dōri – the main street, closed to traffic and transformed into a festival promenade full of scents and music.
How to prepare? Bring comfortable shoes (there’s a lot of walking and dancing) and light clothing (it will be hot!). It’s worth renting a yukata.
Where to stay? If you’re coming from afar, the best base is Niseko – a ski resort known for its luxury hotels, hot springs, and stunning views. During the festival season, accommodations need to be booked in advance. It’s pricey. You can look for simpler lodging, but in many cases, knowledge of Japanese will be essential.
What to buy? Must-haves include gadgets featuring the potato celebrity pair – Jaga Tarō and Jaga-ko-chan! Also recommended: local potato-based products (chips, cookies), and beautiful, handmade uchiwa fans (they may not be masterpieces, but they’re charming).
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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)
"The most powerful force in the universe is compound interest." - Albert Einstein (probably)
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)
"The most powerful force in the universe is compound interest." - Albert Einstein (probably)
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