Merry X'mas from Japan

We didn’t send any X’mas cards this year…sorry. We had to save our pennies. Our friends provided us with a lot of junk food, cakes and box lunches for X’mas. It wasn’t exactly Christmas around here, but we had a peaceful time on X’mas day.

I hope everyone had a safe and happy holiday and that the New Year brings you good fortune.

Erika

Three Times a Charm

After miserably failing my drivers test twice, I decided to pay 23,000 yen and attend driving school. The instructor was very familiar with foreigners and he knew how to troubleshoot bad American habits. The class was two hours long for which I first thought was a long time to go around a driving course that takes only 5 minutes to complete. What I later learned was that two hours of practice was not even close to enough time to feel confident to pass the test. The instructor first drove the course and explained each maneuver that had to be done…in real time. My head was spinning after that short drive. There was no way that I was going to pass the test. The instructor observed my weak attempt at mimicking his driving skills. I thought I knew how to drive since I did have 32 years of experience. Wrong!! I felt like I knew nothing about driving in Japan. Driving on the left side of the road was one thing, but knowing that your within 1 meter from a curb, 30 cm from a line, pumping brakes and turning while “Yoshing” at the correct moment, (the list goes on and on), was something totally different. I was a “green” driver and the driving course proved it. I had a lot of intense work ahead of me. The instructor quickly found my weak points and drilled me over and over again. Looking back in hindsight, the instructor was doing me a huge favor. The problem was that the instruction was so intense that I lost track of the time. Before I knew it, the instructor was giving me advice and writing a receipt for his services. What I didn’t realize was that his instruction stayed in my head for two days. I couldn’t sleep without visualizing the course and his voice haunting me, “No, accelerate! No, look for bicycles! No, look far down the road! No, ‘Yosh’ before the corner! No, too slow! No, too fast! No! No! No! I had to take the test as soon as possible just to try to get his voice out of my head. I was going crazy.

Monday arrived and Erika and I drove to Shonai Town to find five schools where she will be teaching next month. We decided to do this first before I took my driving test since it was on the way. The schools were difficult to find out in the countryside. Two hours had passed and we could only found two of the schools. We gave up since we had to make it to Oita City before the deadline of 1:30 pm. We made it to the driving course with ten minutes to spare. This did very little to soothe my frazzled nerves. Erika quickly registered me for the driving test and after a two hour wait, the examiner appeared. I recognized him as the same examiner who tested me for the first time…not good. He was very serious and asked if I had practiced driving. I nervously replied that I had and that I was ready for the test. I remember nothing of the test because I was either numb from being nervous or I soon forgot bad things. I politely thanked him for allowing me to drive him around the course and then we proceeded inside to meet with Erika, my translator. The examiner chatted with Erika for ten minutes explaining what I had done wrong and his concerns about my driving during the holiday season. I peeked at his score sheet and it read, “30”. I was ready to leave with another failed test under my belt. The next thing that happened totally shocked me…he shook my hand. Erika then said that the examiner had given me a score of 70…I passed!! He didn’t want to disclose that information right away because he feared that I would have ignored his concerns. I was thrilled, but in a contained manner. I didn’t want to seem like I didn’t care about his concerns. I expressed my gratitude and I respected his comments and told him I would be extremely careful. Inside my head, I was jumping for joy.

I want to thank Yano Kouzou (Manager of Hayami Driving Center). Without his guidance and expert training skills, I could have never passed the test. He was fantastic and I would highly recommend him to anyone. Yano sensei called me tonight and checked to see if I had passed the exam. He was relieved and happy to hear the great news. I also want to thank Himoshita Keiichi (Oita Prefecture Driving Center) for his help in getting my paperwork approved.

I’m glad it’s over and I won’t have to repeat it again until I’m 70 years old. Whew!

George

If at first…

The ongoing struggle of obtaining my driver’s license continues. Last week, I went to Oita for the third time. It wasn’t to take a test. That came later. I went to get permission to take the tests. Yes, it took three times just to get permission. The person running the department section that takes care of those things kept telling me that he was not my enemy. He reminded me that we were on the same team. Yet, he insisted that the paperwork that I had given him was not enough to prove that I had been driving in Washington for at least three months. So, what’s the big deal? It would have been a simple matter of accessing my paycheck stubs on the internet and handing the copies to Japan DMV. The problem is that they do not accept copies. They require originals with signatures. Good grief! All of my banking, utilities, paychecks, tax statements…everything is online. The Japanese DMV requirements are ridiculously out of date and they admit to that. The long story short, Erika told them that I needed my license by January or I would lose a job opportunity in January and move back to the U.S. Amazingly, they accepted my paperwork and gave me permission to take the tests.

I took an eye exam and I needed my glasses to pass. The written test was ten true/ false questions. You were allowed to miss three. Fortunately, I studied the driver’s handbook and I didn’t miss any. I was directed to the practical part of the test. The person behind the counter assured me that I would fail the exam, so I failed. The examiner emphasized about how difficult the course was. I didn’t have a chance. The person behind the counter actually said that it would be a miracle if I had passed. How’s that for a confidence builder. The driving part was relatively easy. It was important to pump the brakes three times. Say, “Yosh” every time I looked in the mirror. Stay on the left side of the road. They had some narrow obstacles that required careful maneuvering. All of these things were not too difficult to follow. The problem was that they also required some Japanese rules that needed to be followed. This is where I had trouble. Before entering the car, the front, side and back required visual inspection. I had to pretend I was entering the car from a busy street which required that I look backwards before opening the driver’s door. I had to adjust the mirrors, seat and seatbelt before starting the car and within a certain amount of time. This was the first time I ever drove this car. Never brake in a corner. Drive 30cm from the centerline at all times. Look far ahead and “Yosh” at all of the appropriate mirrors. This was difficult to do since the course had many sharp turns and I did not memorize the course. Don’t drive too fast or too slow. Keep imagining that a pedestrian or cyclist could appear at any time. Blah, blah, blah…just when I thought the test was over, I had to park the car in a specific parking space. The car had to be precisely 30cm from the curb and 30cm from the face of a numbered sign to my bumper. Do you have any idea how difficult that is to do after taking a stressful test? Oh, he also tested to make sure that I put the car in “Park”, set the parking brake, and looked behind before opening the car door. I was mentally exhausted. That was last Thursday and I get to do it all over again on Wednesday. To make things worse, the test cost 4000 yen each time, and it takes 1.5 hours (one way) to get to the driving center from my house. I wonder how many times it will take to pass? I enrolled in a driver’s training course (which is booked solid till next Saturday) at a cost of 20,000 yen. I’ll take the practical again before I attend the course, just to make sure about what I’m confused with. My strategy for passing the driver’s portion of the exam is: If at first you don’t succeed, keep trying until they are tired of you. I heard that the record was 32 attempts. Stay tuned…          George

What a nice day!

Even though it's cold and winter is near, we frequently have beautifully clear and sunny days here. I often take advantage of it and hang our blankets outside. The blankets airate under the sun and smell nice and fresh when we use them at night. It may be a luxurious life we are having without money. There may be so many rich people who want to experience this...a life safe from guns and gangs, from pesticides and chemicals and from polluted air and water. I gradually understand why George loves it here. I can see that George has never experienced this kind of life before. He yells, "Good morning!"when he opens the front door each morning to let the dogs out. He really loves it here.This castle is for Kiley and George. Hopefully, someday it will be for Lucky and myself.

Erika

Pizzaaaaaaaaaaa!

George missed American food, cookies and pizza. Our friend, Nami-chan, took us to COSTCO in Fukuoka. It took 2.5 hours by car, but it was worth it. He kept saying, "pizza" all the way to Costco.

 

We ordered one large combo pizza which was more than enough for the three of us. After that, he was tired of pizza, which was a good thing. We can't afford to go to Costco so often. As soon as he finished the pizza, he grabbed some cookies and headed to the car to spend some time with the doggies. Of course, the doggies got some pizza and cookies. They enjoyed the whole trip in Nami-chan's comfortable van. Thank you Nami-chan!!

We can afford this kind of luxury once in a while, can't we???

Erika

I guess this is what they mean when they say, "Having all your ducks in a row?"    George

This and That

A huge gasp of relief was expressed as we heard the great news of Kiley’s biopsy and blood test results being normal. Dr. Morlan assured us that Kiley should be fit for travel by the time we board our flight. She is a tough little dog and a fighter. Ganbatte, Kiley!

My left eyelid has improved. The doctor said that it will heal on its own provided that I keep the area clean and use a hot potato as a compress. “A hot potato?” Erika asked the doctor. “Yes, the potato provides heat that lasts and it also moisturizes the area. The heat opens the pores so that the pores can be cleansed,” replied the doctor. Of course my frugal wife asked, “Can we reuse the potato when we are done?” Good grief.

My mother will be making an unscheduled visit next week. I had a feeling that she would see me again before I left for Japan.  She wanted to make sure that she would be of some help in preparing for our move. I reassured her that she would be of great help and to be prepared to do some touchup painting. I don’t know why she just didn’t come out and say that she wanted to say goodbye in person. I’m relieved and glad that she is visiting. Humm, maybe she just wants to see the dogs?

As Erika’s time in the U.S. winds down, I’m starting to feel guilty and sad. She loves this country. She is comfortable here. She is leaving because of me. She is leaving because she wants to see me smile. My smile brings her happiness. Health and happiness are the two most important pieces of the puzzle that we call life. “As long as we are healthy and happy together, we can make it through anything,” Erika often tells me. I have heard those words many times over the course of our marriage. The impact of those precious words is being felt in my heart. She is sacrificing everything to make my dream come true. Erika says that I have made her life perfect for the past 14 years and that all she is doing is returning the favor. Erika and I have never exchanged gifts. We have never purchased presents for birthdays, Christmas, or even anniversaries. We try to show how much we care for each other; not by exchanging gifts, but by how we treat each other on a daily basis. The process of caring is a precious gift onto itself. I’ve reached a point in my life where I should accept her precious gift and take on the immense responsibilities that go along with it. George

Changing Attitude

We found a renter quickly. Is that good or bad? We could have asked for higher rent, but George has always told me, “Greed is a bad thing.”

I happened to be there when the couple came to look at the house. They were a very young professional couple. They seemed to be not interested in maintaining the yard at all. They were more concerned about maintaining their privacy.

The bad thing is that they have a dog. We told the property manager, “No pets and no smoking.” We learned of the pet issue after we heard the news that they were serious about renting our home. Yes, we have our own pets, but this is my house. I don’t want other dogs marking on the carpet and leaving hair all over the place. The property manager said, “If the owners are responsible people, the dog is usual well trained.” “Okay, if you can guarantee that in writing, then I will agree.” The property manager was quiet.

I know I can be harsh and difficult at times, but I have been so tired of fighting against so many people to keep my life perfect. My perfect life has been crumbling. Especially after dealing with Kiley’s illness, how could I say, “No dog.” I know I have to take responsibility for my words and actions, but I have to learn to accept others and their differences a little more.

The property manager wanted to find a renter ASAP, using as little expense and effort as possible. Who can blame them for that? That’s their business. I prefer that they honestly express their intentions, but I know that’s impossible. Realtors, car salesmen and property managers are all the same. They say that, “We are doing this for you. We care about you.” No, they are doing this for themselves. But, if I always keep the negative thought in my mind when I do business with them, I can never reach my goal either. Instead, I have to find a common denominator and work on myself. It’s tough, but working on others’ minds can be more difficult. George has helped me a lot.

The funny thing is that when I tried to be positive, flexible and tolerant, I found that I could let go of the problems and at the same time, Kiley’s health has been improving. There have been so many negative aspects surrounding our life this past year along with a downpour of bad karma this past month.  Through it all, we have managed to find someone to help us.

We had a terrible experience trying to sell the house and we ended up not selling. After struggling with a couple of crooked realtors, we managed to find a good realtor. Sure, it was a little late, but we found that we could rely on him to take care of our home in the future. When we were sick, our friends supported us. After we leave the country, we know that we have great neighbors watching our home. The past negative experiences have opened our eyes and guided us to move forward with our lives along with helping us learn to appreciate these people and to create a positive environment around us.

Erika

Another Worry

We just recently had a young guest from Japan. We met her through my friend who said that she had a lot of similarities with me. I was a bit frustrated with our guest while she stayed with us in Seattle. It was not her fault. She was so different from me.  I had problems figuring out what she wanted to do or liked. She did not have an opinion about anything.  I showed her all that Seattle had to offer. I cooked and planned everything. It was just okay for her, not excellent or horrible. When I asked if she wanted to go or do something, her reply was, “Shall we?” I said, “If you asked me, I don’t want to do anything. I’d rather spend time with my doggies and husband. Looking around Seattle was wasting my time and money, but if you want, I’m more than happy to do so for you. So, don’t ask me. Just simply express your feelings and thoughts.” Then she said, “Okay, then let’s try.” She, however, didn’t want to do anything by herself. I said, “I’m more than happy to read a book in the car and wait for you with the doggies. Anything you want to know, ask me. I can find everything on the net.”

I shared my experience with my aunt. My aunt said, “That’s Japanese. You don’t want to say anything bad, but probably she wasn’t satisfied or wasn’t certain of the answer. She chose the most polite answer. You have to adapt to Japanese culture and learn how to express yourself.” “Ha, ha, I can express myself more than enough,” I said. “That’s the problem,” she said.

George jokingly tells people, “Erika was kicked out of her country.” Sadly, some people believe him. I love the U.S. because I can express myself freely. I just have to be responsible with my words. I have regretted a lot for what I have said, but George always supported me. I hope he works harder for me in Japan.

Erika

Home Is Where the Heart Is

The trip to Sacramento, CA. brought back a flood of memories. The stark contrast of the green forests in Washington compared to the golden hills dotted with live oaks in California, reminded me of why I disliked Seattle. The blue skies and the bright sun caused me to squint. I hadn’t worn sunglasses in 7 years. The temperature in the central valley was unusually mild for July…75 degrees. “It’s so flat and open here,” I commented to Erika. My mom’s neighbor was kind enough to pick us up from the airport. This gave me a chance to look out of the car window and remember that “California feeling”. The cars drive faster, the roads are wider, the stop lights are quicker, and the people are dressed in shorts/ t-shirts. Yes, this is California. The warm sun felt fantastic. The air was dry and there was a light breeze cooled by the distant ocean. Everything felt so familiar. I knew this place like the back of my hand and I wanted to see my old stomping grounds and meet our dear friends. I was careful to say or think that I was back home again. Was I back home? This was a question that I desperately needed to answer before I moved to Japan.

When I was recently in Japan, I made it a point to ask myself if this was the place I could call home. I would sit and gaze at my volcano and wonder if I would miss “Home”. As I walked the back roads of Tsukahara, I wondered if my home was in Japan. To answer that question I had to relate to my current situation…living in Federal Way. I often asked Erika, over the course of the past 7 years, if Federal Way felt like home. She said, yes, and stated that where ever I was and the doggies were, she felt like it was home. There is a lot of truth to that. Home is where the heart is. The problem for me is that my heart was never in Seattle. I moved here because I had to. I could not give up 15 years at the same workplace so easily. It was a good job and we both knew it. We had to move because the situation required us to do so. In all honesty, Seattle has felt like a long stopover. You know the feeling…it’s like staying at a motel in an unfamiliar town. I have never felt like this was my home…not even for a minute. Some of this feeling was because I never allowed it to be my home. We made a few friends and for me that was saying a lot. I do not make friends easily. I have held an unfair grudge against this city because of the way I migrated here. The feeling of living somewhere because “you want to” compared to living somewhere because “you have to” is light years apart. I took those feeling I had bundled up inside for these past 7 years and brought them to Tsukahara. Would I feel the same in Japan?

As I walked the back roads of Tsukahara with my wife and Sakura (neighbor’s dog) a magical thing happened. I started talking to complete strangers. A mother and her daughter were blowing their truck horn to bring in the cows that were grazing near the volcano. After a few minutes, the mother started searching for the cows. She must have been in her seventies, but she was as strong as an ox. She marched out into the tall grass and called for her cows. After a while, she disappeared into the bushes. We waited patiently with her daughter. A person bicycled past us and stopped to chat. He rented our home before we purchased it. We talked a bit as the mother continued to look for the cows. I wanted to help search for the cows. Then, another close friend from Erika’s hometown of Suminoe, drove by and stopped. We had known them for many years. All of this occurred on a tiny road in front of the volcano in Tsukahara. What’s so magical about the moment was that I realized I knew all of these people and I was comfortable with them. The new neighbor with the cows invited me to help gather her cows in a future roundup. This sounded like a great opportunity for me because their land was located right next to the volcano and I would have a chance to be a “Japanese cowboy”. Our dogs were invited too. I could not stay to watch her mom find the cows, but we did make another friend. The experience of making new friends repeated itself throughout my recent trip to Japan. Actually, this experience had repeated itself over and over during the many trips to Japan. It’s just that at that magical moment in time I came to the realization that I felt like I was home. I embedded those emotions in my brain and carried those thoughts to a very special place in my heart…Green Valley.

Green Valley stirs up emotions of a wonderful time Erika and I shared. I had a great job, Erika worked at the best place ever and her supervisor and coworkers were the greatest. We had a beautiful home with a gorgeous Japanese garden. We had time to do our hobbies including stained glass and woodworking. I could fly my remote controlled sailplanes off a nearby hill and walk the dogs for miles without seeing a single person. The small community was surrounded by man-made lakes and we felt safe there. A small shopping center opened up which allowed easy access to grocery shopping within walking distance. On Saturdays, we would walk there to pick up some scones or croissants for breakfast. A farmers market was nearby which provided us with all kinds of inexpensive fruits and vegetables. We were in the countryside, so we could walk to pet/feed horses and look at the vineyards. Our next door neighbor was the best. We shared a lot of the same interests and beliefs. We were very lucky to have them. Yes, it was a very special time in our lives.

Of course, not everything was perfect. I did have to commute 1 to 1.5 hours each way to Oakland. The commute took its toll on my health and happiness. I was having personality conflicts at work. I often found myself complaining about the smallest things. When I look back, I felt sorry for Erika. She endured a lot of complaining from me. She worries that I will do the same in Japan. However, she has noticed that I have changed for the better. Rather than complaining, I get out there and do something about it. Erika has shown me how to do that.

During this past trip to California I had a chance to hike a couple of hours in Rockville Park, overlooking Green Valley. I was convinced that of all my travels, there was no place more beautiful than the view above Green Valley. My previous dogs had their ashes scattered there. It was the place where I would go to fly my sailplanes, and the place I could go to gather my thoughts. It was a very special place in my heart. With my memories of Tsukahara swirling in my head, I could finally sit down and answer the question about whether if Green Valley was the home that I longed for or if Tsukahara was the place where my heart was. I walked along a ridge overlooking the distant hills that were shrouded by the marine layer. The marine layer is like a giant fog/cloud bank that provides a natural air-conditioning effect when the westerly winds blow during the summer months. The effect is dramatic and can cool the area by as much as 20 degrees compared to the central valley. This is one of the reasons why the Napa Valley was such a successful wine growing region.

I hiked the park trails and a flood of memories came to me. I could almost see my dogs playing near the mighty oak trees. The air was cool and dry. The warm sun was filtered by passing clouds. It was a glorious day to be hiking in Rockville Park. I felt like I was the only one there. After about 1.5 hours, I hiked back up to the ridge and found the spot where I often thought was my favorite place in the whole world. It was a magical place for me, however it felt different than before. I could see that my attitude had changed. It was comfortable to be back hiking the trails. It felt comfortable to see friends. It felt almost…too comfortable. I imagined my future life in Japan and compared it to my past life in Green Valley. It’s hard to describe, but for some strange reason I had this urge to complain about something. I thought about all of the homes being built right up to the park’s boundary line. I thought of the warning signs: Beware of Coyotes. Keep Your Dog On Leash! I’ve never had to worry about that before. Of course the coyotes are in the park. They have nowhere else to go! New homes are being constructed everywhere. I looked out and saw Fairfield as I stood on the ridge. New businesses and construction were overtaking what I once thought was countryside. I remember back in 1966 when the only stop was a single stop sign (I sound very old) in Fairfield.

When I was climbing up the trail into the park, I came across a lady of Middle Eastern descent. She stared at me like I was from another planet. She continued to stare at me until I could not see her anymore. I felt uncomfortable, as if my comfort zone was violated. I wanted to blame her. This place, that was my home of 40 years, felt strangely foreign to me. It was like the area grew/changed and I was no longer part of it. There was nothing I could do about it. I just accepted the fact and left with the confidence that I had answered a question that had been bugging me for a long time. My future home was in Japan and my heart was on the mountainside overlooking my volcano in Tsukahara. I couldn’t wait to go back.

George

Mistakes

Every time I visit Japan, I make at least one cultural mistake. Recently when I visited, George and I were invited to lunch. The lunch was buffet style. The host said, “Please help yourself.” I said, “Thank you” and proceeded to serve myself. The host’s jaw dropped in astonishment. I quickly asked what was wrong. She said, “You served yourself.” I asked if I misunderstood her when she told me to serve myself. She said, “You didn’t serve your husband first.” I made up an excuse and of course that made the situation worse. Well…I wasn’t thinking clearly after a couple of beers. I should have pretended and said, “Oops, I forgot. I am sorry.” Instead, I said, “He has two hands. He can serve himself. If I served him, he would have been obliged to finish up everything on the dish.” This was mistake number one. 

After a little more beer, somehow in our conversation, I said, “My ex….” She said, “Oh my God! George is such a sweet guy.” I asked, “Why?” She said, “Because he married you even though you were used.” George and I laughed out loud! I know that most Americans would have thought that she was rude to have made such a harsh comment. I would have thought so too if I didn’t have plans to move back to Japan. Well…this was mistake number 2.

Believe or not, I have made so many cultural mistakes. Either I can laugh or cry about them. I have been practicing the “Japanese smile” by opening my big mouth less.

Erika

Intentions

It was a very emotional trip to California. I think that’s an understatement considering the magnitude of the trip. Imagine saying goodbye to your mother and not knowing if she would be alive to see you again. Then compound those emotions with her conveying that she is certain that this will be the last time she will spend time with you. Well, she is 82 years old. She works 5 days a week, not because she needs the income, but because she needs to socialize. I believe that’s the secret to her longevity.

 The strange thing about this trip was that most of the time I shared with my mother, we were in serious discussion about her estate, trust, and will. I can’t think of a more enlightening conversation to have with your mother. When we visited the cemetery, she even reminded me to engrave her name on the headstone that marks my father’s grave. How’s that for fun and entertainment? I know she wanted the transition of her death to be as smooth as possible, but I found the whole discussion to be morbid. I listened to her as carefully as I could because I knew that it was very important to her. The more we discussed her death, the more comfortable I became with the subject. I think that was her intention. She tried to give me the priceless gift of peace-of-mind. I never knew any of my grandparents. I wasn’t exposed to death until my father died in 1994. I can’t say that it will be any easier emotionally for me when she dies, but I think she will rest a little easier knowing that she tried to console me about her eventual death. Fortunately, she has a family history of longevity, so I don’t expect anything to happen to her in the near future. Erika often kids her about the topic. “You told me you were going to die soon when you were 70. You said the same thing when you were 75. Now you are 82. I’m not too worried about your death anytime soon.”

George

Something Wrong

It’s stressful to choose a good property manager especially when we have to trust him or her with our home. Usually, George and I interview several people and end up disagreeing on who to choose. This case was different. We interviewed 5 people and we agreed without hesitation on the same person.

A couple weeks before the signing of the contract, I asked our newly chosen property manager to send me a quick reminder of the signing date. She said that she would be too busy since the day falls after her vacation. I asked, “Okay, then could you please give me a quick phone call or email on the day we sign the contract… maybe 30 minutes ahead of time?” She said, “Okay.”

On the contract signing day, she did not contact me ahead of time as she had promised. As a matter of fact, she was 15 minutes late to the meeting! When she came in, she was in a good mood and kept talking. I was waiting for her to settle down and apologize for being late, but she never did. So, I finally asked her, “Are you always late?” She became very upset at my simple question. She said that she felt “attacked” by my question. The “Drama Queen” continued to rant on about how she felt uncomfortable about our “relationship” and that she had never been treated in such a manner. I remained calm as she continued to self-destruct. She said, “I told you that I would be extremely busy after my vacation!” I wish I could have said, “I don’t care about what kind of vacation you had and how busy you are. We are conducting business here.” Shoot! I missed the golden opportunity because George entered the room and interrupted us. He told us to calm down since she had said she apologized (I was calm anyway.). “No, she didn’t!” I responded. When I asked her why she didn’t keep our promise about sending me a reminder, she apologized, but not before. I was okay to move forward, but she said she needed a “time out.” She slammed the front door. When she came back, I said, “I will clean up any clutter as you take your pictures.” My goodness, her face was still red and upset. George jumped in and said, “Well, I think we saw enough. We’re choosing someone else. Bye!”

At first, I felt sorry for George because I might have caused more trouble. We did spend a lot of time interviewing. My friend said, “If she cannot handle the tiny stress with me in person, how could she possibly handle the stress in emails.” She was right. My previous company conducted several training classes on how to handle a stressful situation. Obviously, I didn’t learn anything.

Property managers and realtors are always on time and promise a million things until we choose them. It’s like night and day after we say the magical words, “We chose you.” Why do they act like they are doing us a favor soon after we tell them we are going with them? They should realize that they earn money from our property. How many times have I heard them say, “I have been working so hard for YOU. I have been doing a great job for you.” How come they don’t say, “I am doing a good job for myself so that I can build my reputation. Thank you for offering me this great opportunity”?  

Erika

Discovering Happiness

Visiting Japan has made me realize that the departure date was quickly approaching. George had often asked me what the chances of moving were. I replied, “Not yet, so maybe 50%”. The answer over the past few years has gradually changed from 50% to 99%. I am not scared to change. I will miss the freedom of living in the U.S.: freedom to be myself, freedom to do whatever I choose, freedom to be treated equally with men, freedom to have privacy, and freedom to speak out and be different. In Japan, being different means that you stick out like a nail. Those nails are quickly pounded back in.

During our recent visit, we made satisfactory progress towards our goal of moving to Japan. We found a place to open a business and announced to our friends that we will be moving in October. Yes, I was the one dragging my feet by making up a lot of excuses. The longer I stayed in Japan, the more questions I asked myself; would I be okay to live there for the rest of my life?

Where ever I would go, even to public offices, I would see young Japanese women working the front desks. They were not older women like me (by the way, I’m not considered old in the U.S., but I am in Japan). So, where do the experienced Japanese women go? Those young Japanese women have the same smile, very soft, natural looking and very kind. How can I do this? Trying to act that way creates more wrinkles on my face.

So, I asked one of the young ladies working at the bank, “Are you happy?” She was puzzled by my question. George quickly apologized for me, “I’m sorry, but my wife is taking a survey.” She thought for a moment and replied, “I think so.” I asked, “What do you mean you THINK so?” She said, “I am NOT unhappy, so I guess I’m happy.” Both George and I laughed out loud.

Okay, I discovered that is the attitude I should have. The currency conversion rate was 80.50 yen per $ 1.00, but actually only 75.00 yen ended up in my pocket. So, I said to the young lady, “I’m not happy about this! How do I change my unhappiness with your way of thinking?” She laughed. I guess I have to find my happiness by not being unhappy in Japan.

Erika

Safety and Convenience

I recently read an article describing why the Japanese prefer to live in their country rather than somewhere else. Naturally, I thought it was because it was their home. I read that the Japanese remain in Japan because of two reasons: Safety and convenience. Living in Japan is supposed to be one of the safest places in the world. I can’t say that is true for the larger cities. Most of my Japanese family lives in Tokyo. They lock their doors every time they step out to run an errand or go to work. Things are changing in Japan. Often the news will have a story about a murder or a robbery. I found it interesting that the news reports a murder like a murder/mystery story. They would reenact the scene of the crime using 3-D animation, giving the audience little doubt as to what transpired during the crime. Then the news would present various clues to the public. Each day a new piece of the puzzle would be introduced. This would go on for weeks or even months. A story about a woman spiking some curry with poison and killing people was big news when I visited Japan a few years ago. The news carried the same story along with more information when I visited a year later. This is in stark contrast to the U.S. Here, the news will run through all the murders, rapes, and robberies in the first 5 or 10 minutes. Then it’s time for weather and sports. We’ve become numb to all the violence. Not so in Japan. A single murder story could take up an entire newscast. The news reporters attack a murder story and turn it inside out and upside down. The Japanese demand to know all the details of a crime. I think it has to do with the tight knit Japanese society and the fact that society is slowly unraveling. People who live in the large cities are often crammed together because of the lack of space and the tremendously high real estate prices. If a possibility exists that your neighbor is a murderer, rapist, or thief…I think you might want to know all the details. The disturbing fact is that these types of crimes are slowly working their way into the countryside. Even during this recent disaster, some families refused to leave their homes because they feared they would be robbed. It’s not like this everywhere in Japan. Erika’s family still leaves the door unlocked in their small town.

The second reason people remain in Japan is because it’s convenient. I have no doubt about that. When I visited my aunt in Tokyo, I found that she did not drive. The transportation system is incredibly efficient. She doesn’t need a car. The trains and buses are on time, clean, bright, and comfortable. They drop you off close to any number of stores, attractions, or whatever your heart desires. The entire system runs like a well oiled machine. That is until the power turns off. Some of my relatives decided to go north to Hokkaido. They wanted to get away from the inconveniences of living where there is unreliable power, food shortages, and the threat of radiation exposure. Fortunately, they have a place to stay in Sapporo. Many people aren’t as fortunate. They have to be patient and wait for things to return to normal. It’s scary to think if something as catastrophic as the triple disasters in Japan were to happen here. The news in Seattle keeps asking the same question, “Are we prepared?” If a country that is considered to be the most prepared for an earthquake and tsunami suffers damage exceeding 27000 lost or dead, how in the world can we think we are prepared? The west coast of the U.S. is just as vulnerable as Japan, perhaps even more. “The big one” is way overdue to happen. The Earth’s crust is in constant motion and eventually it will move in a way that will cost many lives and leave unimaginable destruction. It’s just a matter of time for the U.S.

 I asked Erika, “Maybe we should leave the U.S. before the next big earthquake hits, but where do we go?” Japan is on a volcano watch for the next few months. With all the seismic activity going on, there is a fear that a volcano may erupt. One of the volcano’s that is being watched is located less than 10 miles from our home in Tsukahara. A volcano (Shinmoedake) on March 13, 2011 erupted violently in southern Kyushu, leaving people wondering if the recent earthquakes and volcanic activity are tied together. Humm, Japan is safe and convenient, Japan is safe and convenient, Japan is safe and convenient…I feel like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz…Japan is safe and convenient…I heard that Arizona is nice.

George

Self Restraint

In a recent article, I read that the Japanese are practicing self restraint. This has taken many different forms. Downtown Tokyo has toned down the huge displays of neon lights. People attending ball games keep their expressions of excitement to a mild clapping of plastic horns rather than an obnoxious roar of enthusiasm. Stores that often blast the customer with jingles and shouting over the speakers have silenced. All of this uncharacteristic behavior has been focused towards self restraint. The suffering amongst the Japanese has sparked a movement for people to be less colorful, glamorous, and extravagant. Instead, acting conservative and moderate are in vogue. Many have compared this reaction to the recent disasters as being similar to how the Japanese reacted after World War Two. Erika and I have shared feelings of guilt for doing anything that brings happiness to us. Apparently, this is a common reaction to a catastrophic event. I can see that the only way through this is by doing something to help others. I’ve reached a point in my life where I’m learning that materialistic things have little importance, and that caring for others in need is what really matters the most. I think we could all use some self restraint.

George

Messages

There are so many people from around the world sending messages to Japan. I found that many victims from Japan are sending messages to us. Most of them say, “Thank you for your help,” “I want to go to school,” and “I want to take a shower.”

http://photo.sankei.jp.msn.com/info/data/2011/Earthquake/hinanzyo/0319minamisanriku/

I have never felt that I wanted to go to school and I never imagined that we, as Japanese, needed to yearn for a shower. Yet, as they struggle to survive, they are working hard to help each other.

When I went back to college in the U.S., I was upset because many of my classmates were irresponsible. Their words and promises sounded great, but their actions never matched their intentions. However, they were the first to claim someone else’s work. For example, I told them I didn’t want to come after school to do extra work because I had so much to do as a wife. They said that, “Teamwork,” was important and that we should all pitch in. The result was that I had waited for the others to show up, which no one did, and I completed the project myself. They had all kinds of excuses. When it was time for the presentation, they didn’t hesitate to say, “WE did it.” I was upset and complained to George, “Those people kept insisting that TEAMWORK was so important, but they didn’t do any of the work!” He said, “They are the team and you are the work. Just accept that. Think about it...who was smarter?” The same irresponsible behavior existed at all of the various U.S. companies that I worked for (but not everyone. I know that some people are much harder workers than I am). Well, I finally learned from the majority. Here again, can I be readopted to the Japanese culture? My mother already gave up on me. Luckily, my father passed away before I could disappoint him. Thanks to my brother and aunt, they haven’t given up on me and have tried to change my badly influenced behavior.

Every day, I spend time reading the stories from Japan of the victims’ experiences and find myself with tears. I hope I’m learning something as I read. It would be an honor to be able to learn the culture again before I get too old.

Friends - Tomodachi

One of my friends has been married for over five years. She has hid her marriage from her relatives. Her father was very ill and she didn’t want to shock him with the fact that she was married to an American. I understand her situation. She often traveled to Japan from the U.S to take care of her ailing father. Her father’s past away. I think her husband was very understanding to have allowed her to go to Japan so often and for such an extended period of time. Now, she goes back for her mother who already knows all the facts of her marriage. She has a closer relationship with her mother. When I heard the news that her husband was going to accompany her to Japan, I said, “That would be great. He deserves to learn more about the country where he is going to retire.” She, however, said that the marriage was still a secret because her mother wanted to have it that way. There are relatives, friends, and neighbors that don’t accept the marriage.

I was surprised to find that her husband will be required to remain undercover. The situation makes me feel uncomfortable…to know that her husband’s position is disrespected. I hid a relationship with an American when I was single. I understand how conservative Japan can be. Society can judge you and jeopardize your future, but it’s the 21^st century and the marriage has been happily supported by her husband. I wonder what George would say if I did the same thing to him for several years. He would probably be very unhappy and doubt if he was good enough for me to be proud of or to stand up for.

When I had a war between my mother-in-law and myself, not once but three times, George was always on my side more than 200%. When the first war started, I had been trying to be more than the best Japanese wife by pretending to be very feminine, polite, smart, and obedient. This was a struggle since those characteristics are far from my natural character. Under stress from my mother-in-law and the American culture, I just became associated with, I screamed the B-word at her for the first time. George laughed at me and was so proud of me for showing guts by saying, “That’s my wife!” instead of being upset. I don’t cuss and I don’t allow anyone, including my husband, to use cuss words in my house. When the second war started, my mother-in-law said, “Erika, I didn’t yell at you, but at George. Why are you mad at me?” I said, “Remember, he is my husband at the same time he is your son. If you humiliate George, you humiliate me and I will back my husband 200%.” I don’t argue with my mother-in-law anymore. I just keep a safe distance until the conflict cools off. It took me one year to cool off from the third war.

I believe my friend and her husband respect each other, but it’s hard for me to picture the husband hiding in her hometown. He cannot be proudly introduced as her husband. I am sorry for him. I told the story to George and he asked, “Why don’t you tell her?” I said, “It’s none of my business as far as their relationship is okay and they are happy.” “Then why are you bothered so much?” he asked. “Because it seems disrespectful. When you call your friend a FRIEND, don’t you respect him/her as a friend?”  George said, “That’s why she can live in Japan, but you will have hard time there.” It’s very true, if she were my American friend, I would definitely open my big mouth.  

I had suffered for a long time when I was growing up in Japan. I was different from most Japanese children. I rebelled against the silly and outdated rules of Japanese society. In the U.S., I found I could be myself. I could speak my mind freely…sometimes too free. That’s one reason why I could get along with my mother-in-law, sometimes better than George. She speaks more freely than I do.  If my friends still keep me as a friend, I think I should appreciate them.

My verdict is that it’s not worth arguing about my friend’s decision. I’ll respect her way and worry about my own future in Japan.

Erika

Japan

A couple of days ago, the news from Japan said that there were so many people who felt motion sickness because of the hundreds of aftershocks. According to Yahoo Japanese News, as of 3/16, there have been a total of three 7.0+ magnitude, forty-nine 6.0+ magnitude and two hundred sixty three 5.0+ magnitude aftershocks. It’s usually big news when a 5.0 magnitude quake occurs, but recently the concentration of disasters has diluted any interest in smaller earthquakes.

There are so many people that have been rescued, but they are living without hope and enduring hunger. They were grateful to be rescued, but soon many of them realized that they lost everything. Some said they felt guilty to live because they were already old.

I still cannot enjoy daily life. I feel guilty to have any fun in my life. I don’t know why I feel tremendously depressed about the disaster in Japan. Maybe because I’m getting old???

I was asked if I was afraid to go back to Japan. Yes, if I had to live in the area that has been affected by radiation, but otherwise no. I face crime in the U.S. every day. The local news is full of stories about drugs, murder, and rape in my city. I believe I can protect myself only by locking myself inside my home. George is especially protective of me and he won’t allow me to drive in the city…According to him, I’m a crazy driver too. What’s the difference between being scared of a natural disaster or a society full of danger? Either way, I have to live until the end of my life.

Erika

Just do it.

We have been watching , along with the rest of the world, the disastrous events unfold in Japan. It’s heartbreaking to see so many people suffering and know that the end is nowhere in sight. Erika and I have felt anxious waiting to hear news about the current situation in Japan while knowing in the back of our minds; we haven’t done anything to help. We decided to do something rather than feeling sorry for the people of Japan…donating money to the American Red Cross instead of shedding tears.

I wanted to make sure our money was directed to the victims of the disaster. Erika chose the American Red Cross.

https://american.redcross.org/site/SPageServer?s_subsrc=RCO_FrontPagePanel&pagename=ntld_main&s_src=RSG000000000

If you decide to do the same, please select “Japan Earthquake and Pacific Tsunami” and donate whatever you can. Thank you.

Ganbare Japan

George and I have been in shock since we heard the news about the tsunami, earthquake and nuclear reactors. We have been glued to the television and internet trying to gather whatever information we can about the disasters.  

I appreciate having so many friends, including my dentist, calling me to see if my family in Japan was okay. It is very comforting to know that there are so many people concerned about my country. I felt so guilty to find myself just sitting here in a nice warm, comfortable place with the plenty of food, unable to do anything for those people.

George and I have tears each time we see people lining up for food, without warm clothes, and who are looking for their loved ones. George always tells me not to ignore the problem, but rather face them and acknowledge that a serous problem exists. It is hard, very hard, and I have only tears. In the local newspaper from my hometown in Oita, I found that there are so many people who are donating their blood, which is urgently needed in the devastated area. People of all ages, including little kids, line up to donate money and blood. I feel I have learned a lot about my own country.

Look at this link. Now more rescue dogs are deploying to Japan.

http://www.facebook.com/exploredogs?sk=app_4949752878

http://www.searchdogfoundation.org/98/html/1-deployments/1-2_japan.html