Domo Arigato Gozaimasu Japan Fulbright Memorial Fund Teacher Program

As a result of my experience as a Japan Fulbright Memorial Fund Teacher, my entire reality has been dramatically changed. This change is primarily due to the profound affect that the fellowship has had on my life, both as an educator, and a third generation Japanese American living in the United States.

My experience in Japan as an educator in the JFMF program gave me an intimate insight into the educational system, culture, and history of Japan. My experience in Japan as a Sansei, third generation Japanese American, was a cultural renaissance that has made an indelible impression on my life. Together, these two experiences combined, have caused a paradigm shift in the way I view, and approach my life, which directly impacts the relationship I have with my family, friends, colleagues, and students.

During my three-week odyssey in Japan I was exposed to the many facets that make up the daily life of the citizens of Japan, both students and adults alike. Along with my delegation of two hundred teachers and administrators, I was educated on the various strata that combine to form the layers of Japan’s identity. With this newly learned information, I was able to gain a greater picture of Japan’s social structure, and its influence on the population.

To me, the people are the heart and soul of a country. Together, they make up the patchwork that forms the fabric of their society. In the time that I spent in Japan, I have seen that its people have created a quilt, full of rich intricate detail, laced with history and tradition. For now, I can just reflect and dream of the pattern that has wrapped me in its warm embrace.

Thank You Japan Fulbright Memorial Fund Teacher Program, for giving me a once in a lifetime experience.

Domo arigato gozaimasu.

Back to Reality

So, here I am back at school, trying to get back into the swing of things.
I can't believe I have been home for an entire week. Hello to all of my friends that I have made across the states and around the globe. I miss you all, and hope this entry finds you well. What an amazing time we shared together.


Mr. S

Rest In Peace

This sculpture was erected in honor of Norlando at the scene of his accident.

Peace be with you.

In Memory of Norlando Bioc

For those of you who don’t know, I race bicycles. I have raced for over ten years, and it helps keep me sane. Never mind the bicycles that I ride, never mind the races that I have won, all that is trivial in the grand scheme of things.



The team that I currently race for is actually a memorial team named in spirit after my friend Norlando Bioc. The team was started in 2002, by a friend in memory of Norlando, who was killed 7 years ago, on October 22, 1999. Yes, this occurred during my first year of teaching at La Entrada School. I actually learned of Norlando’s death while at work, on a Saturday afternoon.


During the summer of 1999, I traveled to nearly all of my season’s races with Norlando. In fact, the 1999 season was my return to racing after retiring six years before, in 1993. Although we raced for rival teams, we had been friends for years, and had moved through the ranks of amateur cycling together. We had a bond that went beyond teams. Well, tomorrow marks the 7th year anniversary of Norlando’s passing. Here is an email I received just days before I returned from my trip to Japan.
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Norlando Bioc was a member of Peninsula Velo. He origionally raced with the Twin Peaks/Una Mas team before joining PV sometime in 96 or 97. Bill Fallis coached him for the 1998 Nike Worlds Masters Games in Portland, which he and Bill both came in 4th place (age respective) in the (track) points race. He was a flight attendant and lived in San Mateo. He also was a very positive person in his life and a person of faith. 7 yrs ago this Sunday, he was on a Friday eve ride wth friends and was hit from behind by a small pickup whose driver had let drift right due to sleep deprivation. He died at the scene. He was 35 yrs old. We pass that spot every time we ride south on Canada Rd, at the crest of a hill half-way to Woodside. Because the date is on a Sunday this year, I would like to sponsor a group ride in his memory. It will meet at 92/Canada at 8:30AM, and the pace will be m-e-l-l-o-w. Because this will be true, anyone who has a single speed bike (ala track/fixed gear bike set up for road use) is encouraged to ride it. Distance/route can be determined that day; something moderate. I will look forward to riding with you all on that day, without turning a pedal in anger.
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I will be on this ride tomorrow, along with some of my teammates and many of Norlando’s friends. I will post again tomorrow, hopefully with pictures.

For those of you who have read my blog from the beginning, and for those of you who met me while in Japan, you know of my most recent accident. Yes, riding a bike can be a risky proposition, but the sensation of freedom that it gives me is priceless. Yes, I have had my fair share of crashes and close calls with cars while riding a bike. However, riding a bike is what keeps me sane.

May the wind be always at your back, and may the rubber meet the road.

Mr. S

Domo Arigato Gozaimasu

Domo arigato Japan. What an amazing experience I had while on my trip to the land of the rising sun. I cannot believe that my trip has run it’s full cycle, and now I am back at home in Menlo Park, California. It feels as if I have been gone so long, but I could have easily spent another three weeks and still wanted more time.

The people I have met, the places that I have been, the time I have spent in Japan, all of these memories will remain with me until I return to this land of enchantment. I wish I could have turned the plane around and done it all again.

Moments that I will cherish are too numerous to recount, however the memories that will stand out as the most significant: meeting Mr. Koji Ikeda, Hiroshima atomic bomb survivor, my day trip to Kamakura, all of the school site visits, my day in Hiroshima, breakfast on my last morning in Tokyo, and the many people who helped shape my experience along the way.

I owe a lifetime of thanks and gratitude to: everyone in my Kurashiki group, Hara san, my home stay host, Meg Hamada, my guide and friend in Kurashiki, Mr. Sato, the city representative from Kurashiki, Miki, our interpreter in Kurashiki, Keiko Murakami, the librarian at the Hiroshima Central Library, Mr. taxi driver, from Hiroshima, the minister from my great grandfather’s temple, Mr. and Mrs. Sasahara, and finally, Mr. Komoto, for taking care of my great grandfather’s grave. Domo arigato gozaimasu, to all of you for making my experience in Japan truly magical.

Sayonara Kurashiki

This morning was my last day in Kurashiki. What a truly magical place. Although my stay here was very short, I have so many great memories of the places, experiences, and most of all the people. Everyone I encountered was so gracious, inviting, and friendly.

The city itself had a quaint, old town canal district, which was comprised mainly of gift shops and restaurants, and which honestly was a bit of a tourist trap. Nevertheless, during the night after the shops had closed and the tourists had scurried off to their hotel rooms, the vacant “Streets” had a very tranquil atmosphere.

Ah yes, the “Streets.” Well, some of the “Streets” in the old town area are more like hobbit trails than the streets like those we have in good old Menlo Park. One thing that struck me as totally odd was that you could be walking down what seemed to be a walking path, or even an indoor concourse-shopping district, and suddenly there would be a car driving straight towards you. Weird.

Don’t get the wrong impression. It was not like this everywhere. In fact, the majority of the city had larger streets, however I must admit, that driving on the other side of the road thing, was difficult to get used to. It’s no wonder that we were not allowed to drive during our stay here in Japan.

My favorite part of the old canal district was actually above the canals, at the Achi Shinto Shrine. This shrine was situated atop a large plateau above the village below. You had to climb some very steep steps to reach the shrine, but once there, the effort was well worth the peaceful serenity of the grounds. BTW, a shrine is where people of the Shinto faith go to pray. This segment of the population is actually quite small. The majority of Japan’s population is of the Buddhist faith.
Since I knew that yesterday was to be my last day in Kurashiki, I made a second trip to the shrine in my remaining free time, mainly to have some time to myself, because I was to spend the night with my group at a ryokan (Japanese style inn). This stay was to be the only stay in Japan where I would have to share a room, so having that time to myself was very much needed.

Wow! I am so glad that I made the second trip to the shrine, because I had time to explore more of the surrounding area. I found a great bamboo forest with this narrow-steep path that led to a cozy little village below. I would have gotten better pictures, but whenever I stopped for too long, I was totally attacked by mosquitoes. Yes, the thought of bird flu did cross my mind, and I ran back to the hilltop to safety.

Once back at the hilltop grounds of the Achi Shrine, I found a cemetery behind the shrine itself. It was more of a maze of small gated family plots, one next to the other, all connected by a cobbled path. This path led to a Buddhist temple on the north east side of the hilltop. I don’t know the name of that temple. However, it had an awesome view of the city down below. This temple was much more secluded than the Achi Shrine. In fact the only other people there were a family of three, and it was obvious that they were not tourists. I, on the other hand, could not have looked more like a tourist in my baggy cargo shorts, t-shirt, and flip-flops. I guess that I should explain that most adult men in Japan do not wear shorts, especially in October. This is just one example of the many cultural differences between our two countries. However, even in my unusual clothing, the family was, as expected, very gracious and made me feel at ease at their temple.
Speaking of cultural differences, I have to say that even though I am 5,124 miles from “Home,” I somehow feel like I belong here in this country, so foreign and unfamiliar. It is difficult to explain, but because I was raised in a Japanese-American household my experience growing up in America was a bit different than most of my “American” friends. I guess you could say that I have a unique perspective on life. Although I was raised in a Japanese-American household, I feel as if my values are very similar to those of the people of Japan. My parents had a great influence on the person who I am today, and for that, I am very grateful.

I feel a great connection to the people here in Japan. Yes, I know this sounds odd. These differences have become more and more obvious during my stay here in Japan with my group of colleagues, with whom I have spent the better part of three weeks together.

Allow me to explain. Although I am admittedly prone to be a bit loud at times, I would not be the first in my group to admit that I am more introverted than most of my American colleagues. Again, don’t misunderstand me, everyone on this trip is a genuinely nice person, it’s just that certain customs, foods, and attitudes that are new and foreign to them, I have experienced all of my life.

The food aside, the differences that stand out the most to me are the customs and attitudes that I have been taught by my parents, which set me apart from my colleagues. I’m not saying that I am better than everyone in my group, but I feel like I’m just different than others in my group. I feel as if I am experiencing this adventure here in this country on a different level. Not better or worse, just different. I know it’s not easy to understand, I guess this blog entry has turned into a cathartic monologue.

Maybe I’m just going through some early withdrawl signs of my trip coming to its conclusion, but I really want to stay here in Japan. Yes, I miss my family, friends, students, coworkers, and my bike, but, at the same time, I don’t want to go home. I want this adventure to continue. For this reason, I will do everything in my power to come back to Japan this summer.

Sayonara for now!

Mr. S

The Five Temples

Today I met my home stay "family," Mr. & Mrs. Hara, or Hara san, & Sachiko. They are a very kind couple, and in fact Mr. Hara had already called me twice at my hotel.
Mr. Hara & I went to Hiroshima for the day, while Mrs. Hara stayed at home. When we arrived in Hiroshima we met Hara san's brother and his friends for lunch at "Tosho." The food was delicious: a salad with dikon (Japanese radish), sake (smoked salmon), age dashi tofu (fried tofu), chawa mushi (fish flavored custard), and a type of sukiyaki with a curry broth which was a little on the hot & spicy side, Japanese brown rice, and a mango flavored something (sorry, no name).

After lunch we hailed a cab and went to the Peace Park Memorial. I made this trip a priority because part of my follow-up plan is to create lessons that promote peace and tolerance amongst my students, and the La Entrada School community. The Peace Park was created in the spirit of peace, and after reading Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes, by Eleanor Coerr, I knew that I had to make this part of my trip to Japan.





















Here I am standing in front of the Peace Park Memorial Arch, behind me, in the distance, you can see the structure known as the Atomic Dome.








And lastly, here I am standing in front of the dome. Mr. Hara had taken a short break and was watching some musical performance, so I had this little Japanese tourist to take my picture. She quickly snapped my picture and then walked off to rejoin her group, only to turn around and walk up to me, and she said to me two words in her best English. “Hope. Peace.” I have no idea how she knew I was American, because I spoke to her in Japanese. Nevertheless, the fact that she turned around and came back to me to utter those two words was priceless.

















After Mr. Hara and I left the Peace Park, we went to find the city’s central library. Can you believe we had to ask at least ten people before anyone could tell us the location of the library? What’s that all about?

Anyway, we needed to find the library because we hoped that someone would be able to help us find the location of my great grandfather’s temple. I had two documents with information about my great grandfather, but no address or any real specific information.

The librarian who helped us was so patient. She spent over an hour with us looking over the documents, and she was able to locate a map that had obviously browned over time, because it looked really old. She then used a current map and was able to match locations from the old map to the current map. Apparently, my great grandfather’s town has since been associated with a new town and subsequently the name had changed. However, our librarian friend’s efforts paid off because she was able to locate five temples in the area she had pinpointed as the location where my great grandfather had supposedly lived.

At this point it was already close to five o’clock in the afternoon, and there is no daylight saving time in Japan, so the sun was about to set, literally and perhaps even metaphorically, so I thought. Nevertheless, Hara san and I hailed a cab and we set off on an incredible journey to the five temples. The taxi driver had to study the map quite carefully before he even started to drive and then he told us that it was about a forty-five minute drive. “Daijyobu! Haiyaku, ikimashou!” (No problem! Hurry up, let’s go!) I screamed.

This story just keeps getting better and better. EVERYONE that became involved in my quest also became entwined in the intrigue of the whole saga. The taxi driver offered to stay with us while we went from temple to temple. He was so incredibly dedicated and patient. We drove for quite sometime and eventually reached the foothills of an area near some river.

The first temple we reached was enormous, and the pastor’s family was outside playing. There was a graveyard off to the side, which got my hopes up. However the pastor’s wife said that it was the wrong temple but to try the next one over, which was literally right next-door. My hopes were dashed.

Let me cut to the chase a bit. We had no luck at the next three temples. At this point my hopes were gone. But, at the last temple, the pastor recognized the name and other information on the documents. He was not sure if his was the correct temple. He made a phone call and then returned and told us he would take us to a person who thought had met my grandmother, a certain Mr. Sasahara. Look familiar?

Well, the pastor lead our taxi driver to the house of Mr. Sasahara. He was a tiny old man. His wife was very kind and she looked at the documents and immediately began making phone calls, mind you it’s about 7 p.m. and pitch black at this point. After about an hour of talking, and talking, and talking, and more talking, all in Japanese mind you, I began to give up hope yet again. Then the Mrs. Sasahara said she contacted a man, Mr. Komoto, who remembered my grandmother coming to visit in the 1970s. However he lived in the mountains and was very old and could not come out at night.

At that point Hara san said that perhaps I would have to wait until the next time I came to Japan. My heart sank. Then there was more talking, in Japanese of course. I asked Hara san to ask the Sasaharas how far it was to Mr. Komoto’s house. When we realized that it was not far away, we offered to have our taxi driver take us there. Yes, Mr. taxi driver was still with us, a solid two hours into our mission. My hopes were restored.

We drove for about five minutes, further up the hill down these narrow ribbons of “road.” When we arrived at Mr. Komoto’s house, there was more talk in Japanese. Then he told us that he had been taking care of my great grandfather’s grave! My heart skipped a beat. Was it true? I jumped up and told Hara san to tell him to take us there! So, all four of us climbed into he cab. We drove another five minutes and when we rounded a turn I saw a school to my right, and on the upside of the hill, a cemetary. In Japan, most of the cemeteries are on hillsides, due to the limited amount of land.

We had arrived! In the pitch black Mr. Komoto lead us up some very steep steps. Keep in mind that Hara san is seventy years old and has been on the go with me all day. Both Mr. Komoto, and Mr. Sasahara were about eighty-five years old, and here we were hiking up the steps and dirt paths in pitch darkness, with nothing but a tiny flashlight to guide our way. It was totally surreal because there was an autumn festival taking place in the valley below, so all the while we were at the cemetery, you could hear taiko drumming, shakohachi (Japanese flute), and singing off in the distance.



What happened in the next five minutes I will remember for the rest of my life. Here is the result of many people coming together to help me connect with my ancestors.



























































This is my great grandfather's grave. It dates back to the year 1886. It survived the Hiroshima atomic bombing. The inscription reads "Our ancestor's grave."





This tall gravestone was erected after WWII, and the inscription on the middle portion reads, "Sasagawa family." It is a communal gravestone for the Sasagawa family.









































The image below is my family crest. This is exactly what I was looking for, but what I found was so much more.

The image below is the Komoto family crest. Mr. Komoto's family graves are right next to the Sasagawa family graves.




















I owe a lifetime of gratitude to all of the people who came together and made this great moment possible: the librarian, Mr. taxi driver, Hara san, all the various people at the temples, and oh, by the way, Mr. Sasahara, and Mr. Komoto; they are my great grandfather's relatives, which makes them my relatives.














Mr. Komoto, me, and Mr. Sasahara





















Mr. Komoto, the man responsible for taking care of my great grandfather's grave, kneeling infront of the Sasagawa family grave





This experience, in a word, AMAZING!

Update, eight years coming, September, 17, 2014.

In March, 2010, I returned to Takatori, Hiroshima, Japan, this time with my entire family, including my wife whom I met in Tokyo, while on my Fulbright Fellowship.

The first of the two photos below show my mother, Komoto-san, & my father, standing behind my great-grandfather's grave. This was the first time my father had seen his grandfather's grave. It was my honor & privledge to introduce my father to Komoto-san, & to his grandfather.

This last image is a picture of my father, Komoto-san, & me. This trip to Takatori was yet another trip to Hiroshima that I will never forget.

Friday the 13th

Yesterday our group visited Kojima Elementary School. Okay, let me begin this post by saying that everyday of my trip has been absolutely phenomenal! As each day passes, I think to myself, "Can it get any better than this?" Well, guess what? What I witnessed this morning was nothing short of amazing.

When we arrived at the school in morning, our guide planned it so that we would arrive before the students so we could greet them as arrived for school. As expected, the students were initially very shy, but it was really fun to watch them march into the school in their uniforms and little back packs.



After the students arrived the principal had us wait in the staff room and provided us with coffee. We all were very thankful for that because we left our hotel at seven a.m. Here is where it gets good. The assistant principal prompted us to follow him to a school assembly. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see. When we entered the gymnasium, the entire school was gathered in anticipation of seeing us. Let me explain that Kojima Elementary School’s student body numbers 546 students. FIVE HUNDRED, FORTY-SIX!

Now imagine entering a room filled with the entire student body and faculty cheering at the top of their lungs! It was like nothing I have ever experienced in my entire life! Words cannot explain the feeling. I cannot wait to show you the pictures and video. I cannot show them on the blog, because of obvious confidentiality reasons.


During the assembly, the students sang songs, performed dances, played instrumental music, and then presented each of us with bookmarks that they made themselves. It was as if everyone at Kojima Elementary School was an embassador, and we were their esteemed guests.

I am about to go meet my homestay family, so I will not be able to complete this post right now. I will update it later.

I'm going to Hiroshima, the city from where all four of my grandparents were born and raised. I hope to be able to find the grave of my great grandfather. Wish me luck!




BTW
Here is my obligatory picture with the school principal, Mr. Yoshikazu Fujiwara


BOOKMARKS




Mr. S

P.S.

Okay, I just returned from my home stay and Mr. Hara and his wife were the most hospitible host family ever. Unfortunately my stay in their home was not really that lengthy because Mr. Hara and I spent most of the day and night in Hiroshima. We did not return to his house until around 10:30 p.m. More on this story to come.

Mr. S

Thursday's Post a Day Late

Two posts today: One for today, Friday 13, 2006, & one for yesterday, Thursday 12, 2006. Sorry I did not get around to posting yesterday, I will post yesterday’s reflections today.

Thursday 12, 2006

On Thursday, we visited Shinden Junior High School, grades 7-9. My first impression with the school was quite a surprise, especially in contrast to the experience I had at Amaki High School the previous day. If the expression a picture paints a thousands words, then you can imagine how speechless I was when I witnessed these images.



I was amazed, or better yet, appalled. In the first five classrooms I visited there were students asleep, texting on their cell phones, lifting their friend’s skirts over their head’s, being just plain insolent, or wrestling their classmates to the ground. All the while, most of the teachers went on teaching and ignored this off task behavior. I did not know what to make of this situation, as it was definitely not what I expected.
However, I did not want to jump to conclusions and after I witnessed the other students that were engaged in the classroom, I was able to put things into perspective. Do not misunderstand my reflections; for every one student that was “off task,” there were far more that were on task, and very welcoming to me, and my colleagues.



























For lunch I was brought to a classroom where I joined a class of 30 9th grade students. At first it was a bit odd, after all, I had not eaten lunch with a bunch of ninth graders well, since ninth grade. But when I began talking to the students, they did their best to talk to me in English. One girl in particular named Tomoko was extremely nice and made me feel much more comfortable.

After I finished eating, I went and talked to a bunch of boys hanging out at the back of the room. There was one boy who was glaring at me while I was eating. Initially he did not seem to want to talk to me, however, after I started talking to him, and I showed him and his friends pictures of me riding my bike and skiing, they became very friendly and curious about “Life in America,” as they put it. That was truly what turned my day around.

After school the students attended club activities such as: judo, taiko, choir, brass band and various sports. It was fun to hang out with some of the students as they gathered before they went home. One girl even let me ride her bicycle.














However, nothing prepared me for what happened as we left the school and went to get on the bus. The principal had the brass band and all of the students gathered at the front of the school, and gave us an unforgetable send off. The band performed three songs, the students sang in unison with two of the songs and if that wasn’t enough, as we drove out the driveway, the entire remaining student body followed the bus, more like chased the bus, all the way down the drive way while students high fived us through the window. Let me explain that the driver was only driving less than five miles an hour. Otherwise it would have been quite “the scene.” I must admit it was quite a surreal experience. I was truly blown away!










BTW, that's me with the school principal, Mr. Nobutoshi Sadaoka.



Mr. S