I volunteer at my daughter's school every once in a while if I can make it work in my schedule. I enjoy it quite a bit because I get a glimpse of her school life and see her in her element.
This morning, I went again and this sweet classmate of my daughter says,
"Hi Yuki's mom!" which she always does.
"Hi sweetie." Says I, like always.
Later, she sees me again and says,
"Wait, are you Yuki's mom or..." and I say,
"Yes, I'm Yuki's mom."
Then she smiles and says,
"My mom always mixes you up with Sophia's mom."
Sophia's mom is also Asian. But she doesn't look anything like me, of course.
Given that she is a sweet child and this is her mom confusing us and not her, I just said,
"Oh yeah?"
Then my daughter chimes in and says, "Is it the hair?"
to which the girl replies "Yeah, I think so."
I am pretty certain the hair is not why the mom confused us, but I wanted to high five my kid for not going to the race assumption and then this girl for agreeing.
When people make such remarks I always have to stop and think before I react to see if it's a generalized race thing or they are actually onto something. I am proud of myself for not saying "tell your mommy, 'no, that's the other Asian.'" So high five to me too.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Noise
Oh hi. I didn't see you there. Thanks for still being here despite my spotty attendance.
We just returned not too long ago from a trip back to Tokyo. Since my mother's passing, I am now making efforts to go there a couple of times a year to be with my father. Not a bad way to go. And April is a lovely time. The weather is mild, often pretty sunny. But because we are now going pretty frequently, I am starting to take note of things that I may have missed when I am too distracted by the big changes. On this trip, the thing I noticed that most was the noise. Japanese people like noise. And all the time. It is probably more prominent in Tokyo but even on TV, we like noise. Let me be specific:
1. If you go to a mall type of place, every store is blasting music. Stores in the US have music too but this is different. Some stores in Japan will play the most annoying, in your face, loud whatever as if this is a challenge for the shoppers to stay there and buy things.
2. Probably the noisiest of them all are the electronic stores. We have several chains of these mega electronic shops that has several stores and sells all things electronic. And apparently, they want to turn on every single thing that they are selling and turn it all the way up and just let them go.
3. Markets. Traditional food vendors bark to call in customers. This is an old tradition. It makes the place lively and each has a very specific pitch of voice they use and what they say. What's funny is that this is now carried through to what we call Depa-Chika (department store basements), where an amazing array for foods are displayed for purchase. And they are high quality up scale foods but people are barking as if this is an outdoor market. Right around rush hour when housewives are out looking for stuff for dinner is the noisiest because they are pushing some specific items that are on sale that day. This noise, I don't mind so much.
4. TV. The majority of tv programs play music in the background, except for news--but even news related shows play music in the background while conversations are happening. And sometimes the level is just high enough that I have to strain to hear the dialogue.
5. Subway stations use to ring this jolting alarm to warn people that the doors are closing. But some time during the past 30 years, they switched it over to some musical tones, and it varies depending on what line you are on or what station. (Or some such thing. There is a whole population of train nerds who can tell you more and better, I am sure).
We just returned not too long ago from a trip back to Tokyo. Since my mother's passing, I am now making efforts to go there a couple of times a year to be with my father. Not a bad way to go. And April is a lovely time. The weather is mild, often pretty sunny. But because we are now going pretty frequently, I am starting to take note of things that I may have missed when I am too distracted by the big changes. On this trip, the thing I noticed that most was the noise. Japanese people like noise. And all the time. It is probably more prominent in Tokyo but even on TV, we like noise. Let me be specific:
1. If you go to a mall type of place, every store is blasting music. Stores in the US have music too but this is different. Some stores in Japan will play the most annoying, in your face, loud whatever as if this is a challenge for the shoppers to stay there and buy things.
2. Probably the noisiest of them all are the electronic stores. We have several chains of these mega electronic shops that has several stores and sells all things electronic. And apparently, they want to turn on every single thing that they are selling and turn it all the way up and just let them go.
3. Markets. Traditional food vendors bark to call in customers. This is an old tradition. It makes the place lively and each has a very specific pitch of voice they use and what they say. What's funny is that this is now carried through to what we call Depa-Chika (department store basements), where an amazing array for foods are displayed for purchase. And they are high quality up scale foods but people are barking as if this is an outdoor market. Right around rush hour when housewives are out looking for stuff for dinner is the noisiest because they are pushing some specific items that are on sale that day. This noise, I don't mind so much.
4. TV. The majority of tv programs play music in the background, except for news--but even news related shows play music in the background while conversations are happening. And sometimes the level is just high enough that I have to strain to hear the dialogue.
5. Subway stations use to ring this jolting alarm to warn people that the doors are closing. But some time during the past 30 years, they switched it over to some musical tones, and it varies depending on what line you are on or what station. (Or some such thing. There is a whole population of train nerds who can tell you more and better, I am sure).
See, someone already did this for me.
I don't expect you to sit through all 11 minutes.
All of that is part of the culture, but I wonder why? On one hand, we are known for our Zen gardens and quiet spirits yet we can't seem to part ourselves from noise making.
During our stay, we took a side trip to Hakone near Mount Fuji. The place is known for it's view and hot springs. My father expressed interest in taking a small trip, so with my brother's family, we went there for a couple of days. We were having a nice lunch by a lake after taking a boat ride (well, it was called a Pirate Ship--not sure why it had such a theme but one does not refuse a chance to go aboard such things, methinks) and it was casual enough place that you ordered and paid for the food up front and they gave you a pager to let you know when it was ready. But it was a pager that beeped. And every single customer had one. So the restaurant not only was playing some muzak but had a constant beeping coming from every table. And to add to this, my 6 year old daughter kept beeping with each beep she heard. It was one of the most noise annoying meals I've ever had in front of a beautiful lake. Not. Relaxing. At. All.
But then later, we saw this out of our car window and all was restored.
Ahhhhh
Monday, April 1, 2013
Ambivalent
I saw this in a store the other day:
I'm seeing a lot of this type of merchandise lately and I have mixed feelings on it because:
1. Yay for Japanese things to be considered cute and cool.
2. Things looking slightly off (for example, on the bottom of this plate, it says "sweet" and the upper left, it says "sour." Not quite sure what the hell kind of meal that would be. Then there is that whole Rising Sun military flag situation.)
3. But not so off that they make me angry.
My daughter loves these kinds of things. She goes right to it and wants them because she relates to all things Japanese (or seemingly Japanese). It's tricky. I don't want to be that mom that is so cranky and nothing but fact based, but at the same time, it is important to me that she knows when these things are not quite accurate. So when we look at such items, I will tell her that they did a really good job with it but this word is a little wrong, or some such things.
On the big picture, however, my kid is connecting to it and feels proud that she knows something about that culture so that is all good.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Japanese Idol: AKB48
Perhaps some of you may have seen a story that ran on CNN a couple of weeks ago about a Japanese pop star who shaved her head because she was caught dating someone. Perhaps you did not. Either way, it is time for me to unleash the cultural phenomenon that is AKB48.
But before I get into that, a little background. Japan is coo-coo for idols. There are several idol-cranking-machine companies that create groups of young men or women, train them to sing and dance, and put them out there as their products. Entertainers in Japan commonly work for a studio/agency and they get paid a salary. It's similar to the studio system that this country used to have for movies. If you want to be a singing star, but you are not a singer/song writer or a band, you can take the idol route and audition for one of these big wigs. And if you are lucky enough to pass, your celebrity persona will be totally fabricated by people high up and belong to them to do with as they wish. Singing abilities are not particularly important and as long as you can move with some semblance of rhythm, you qualify--or so it seems. The most important part is the look. You have to look your part.
I think this idol phenomenon exists because Japan tends to be a high stress culture (from people taking their schools and jobs too seriously) and people need release. Drinking hard, eating good food, and singing karaoke are some of the remedies, but TV idols are another way. You have something pleasant to look at and they provide you with some hopes and dreams that they can some day belong to you--no matter how creepy that may seem. And that is what they work hard to provide.
My analogy aside, idols are just a way of life there and we've had some ebb and flow in quality and longevity of such groups over the years but it is a constant in our society. As for some examples, in the '70s, when I was in elementary school, I was obsessed with two groups. One was Finger 5:
I loved them, wanted to join the family and go on tour with them. I have heard that they once had a joint concert with the Jackson 5 in a stadium in Tokyo and it sold out. When I heard about this, I was about 25 and was seriously angry that I missed it.
Then there was Pink Lady:
They actually hold a record on Guinness book of records. So. Many. Girls.
They are EVERYWHERE. You cannot escape them. There is not a single Japanese person young or old, who doesn't know who they are. I once watched a documentary on how they came about (not sure why) so I now know the whole story and it is an amazing tale of business development. A producer named Yasushi Akimoto, who has cranked out some talents had an idea to develop a girls' group with a concept of "idols you can meet." He went looking for a space in Akihabara, and got a floor of a chain store called Don Quixote that sells a bunch of random stuff. (Side note: I have also taken my husband there and it was the loudest, most crammed, hyper stimulating shopping experience of our lives.) Akimoto renovated the space and put a tiny theatre there that would seat only about 100 people and put an ad out for young girls who wanted to sing and dance. He selected about 20 to start and started putting on a very wholesome show of many girls in their uniforms. Slowly but surely, nerds started to flock to this place, more girls wanted to join, and it settled into a group of 48. There are upward of 80 plus girls who are "members" but you have to be good to be in the top 48. But even within that, there is team A, K, and B and they rotate to accommodate the space and their schedule of performing daily. Fans came to see their tiny concert everyday, bought trading cards, collected and traded them, and voted on who they like best. If a girl gets more votes, her spot in the group moves to front and center. So the fans had some power and that attracted more nerds to flock together.
But before I get into that, a little background. Japan is coo-coo for idols. There are several idol-cranking-machine companies that create groups of young men or women, train them to sing and dance, and put them out there as their products. Entertainers in Japan commonly work for a studio/agency and they get paid a salary. It's similar to the studio system that this country used to have for movies. If you want to be a singing star, but you are not a singer/song writer or a band, you can take the idol route and audition for one of these big wigs. And if you are lucky enough to pass, your celebrity persona will be totally fabricated by people high up and belong to them to do with as they wish. Singing abilities are not particularly important and as long as you can move with some semblance of rhythm, you qualify--or so it seems. The most important part is the look. You have to look your part.
I think this idol phenomenon exists because Japan tends to be a high stress culture (from people taking their schools and jobs too seriously) and people need release. Drinking hard, eating good food, and singing karaoke are some of the remedies, but TV idols are another way. You have something pleasant to look at and they provide you with some hopes and dreams that they can some day belong to you--no matter how creepy that may seem. And that is what they work hard to provide.
My analogy aside, idols are just a way of life there and we've had some ebb and flow in quality and longevity of such groups over the years but it is a constant in our society. As for some examples, in the '70s, when I was in elementary school, I was obsessed with two groups. One was Finger 5:
Yeah, baby, yeah!
I loved them, wanted to join the family and go on tour with them. I have heard that they once had a joint concert with the Jackson 5 in a stadium in Tokyo and it sold out. When I heard about this, I was about 25 and was seriously angry that I missed it.
Then there was Pink Lady:
I loved them, wanted to join the pair and go on tour with them. I knew every song, every choreography (I still know them. It's a scary thing.) and spent hours in my room simulating their lives and wearing costumes that I put together. They were a national sensation. They were together for about 4 years (which is close to my entire elementary school life, so it felt long back then) but then disbanded and once they disappeared from Japan, they made a brief TV appearance in the US in a variety show called "Pink Lady and Jeff."
This is upsetting on so many levels, I can't get into it.
Needless to say, that didn't go anywhere, but they were super hot once.
OK, so jump forward to now. AKB48. The current National obsession. AKB stands for Akihabara, an area in Tokyo that is known for selling nothing but electronics and therefore also action figures and comic books to attract all nerds (I took my husband there once and experienced the cult-ish vibe there where men are afraid of real women but can mingle with them if they looked like anime characters. As a result, there are many girls dressed as such giving out flyers to their cafes.) And 48 stands for...well, how many of them are in the group. 48 girls. In. One. Group.
They are EVERYWHERE. You cannot escape them. There is not a single Japanese person young or old, who doesn't know who they are. I once watched a documentary on how they came about (not sure why) so I now know the whole story and it is an amazing tale of business development. A producer named Yasushi Akimoto, who has cranked out some talents had an idea to develop a girls' group with a concept of "idols you can meet." He went looking for a space in Akihabara, and got a floor of a chain store called Don Quixote that sells a bunch of random stuff. (Side note: I have also taken my husband there and it was the loudest, most crammed, hyper stimulating shopping experience of our lives.) Akimoto renovated the space and put a tiny theatre there that would seat only about 100 people and put an ad out for young girls who wanted to sing and dance. He selected about 20 to start and started putting on a very wholesome show of many girls in their uniforms. Slowly but surely, nerds started to flock to this place, more girls wanted to join, and it settled into a group of 48. There are upward of 80 plus girls who are "members" but you have to be good to be in the top 48. But even within that, there is team A, K, and B and they rotate to accommodate the space and their schedule of performing daily. Fans came to see their tiny concert everyday, bought trading cards, collected and traded them, and voted on who they like best. If a girl gets more votes, her spot in the group moves to front and center. So the fans had some power and that attracted more nerds to flock together.
Over the past 8 years or so, they've gained momentum and broke out of their little place (though that still exists and the members who are not on TV often still perform daily) and now they appear on top rated shows and crank out albums, all of which sky rocket to the top. And once a year, they have a televised fan-voting event where the top 10 most popular girls get selected. It's like a Presidential Election (well, to a certain demographic). If you are in the top 10, you get more gigs and if you are even in the top 25, you get better positions for cameras on TV, therefore, your chances of getting more votes the next year gets higher. It's so awful yet brilliant. Here is footage of their concert with the top girls getting to spread out:
They maintain a friendly "team spirit" type of attitude on camera at least about each other and they are supposed to stay innocent, therefore they are not allowed to date while they are in the group. Which leads me back to the girl I mentioned at the top. She is one of the top 20 girls and broke the rule (she was seen coming out of a male singer's apartment). To apologize, she shaved her head. No one made her. She did it because she felt that is what she deserved. People were like, "um...that was extreme." Seriously. I feel bad for the girl.
They can also choose to "graduate" the group and become an independent star, which I think is the goal of many in the group. It is a tabloid head line if one of them decides to graduate. I guess Japan is a peaceful country if that is making headlines.
And because of their success, there are now SKE40 (Sakae area of Nagoya), SDN48 (more "mature" girls), NMB48 (Namba area of Osaka), HKT48 (Hakata area of Fukuoka), JKT48(Jakarta, Indonesia), TPE48 (Taipet, Taiwan), and SNH48 (Shanghai, China).
I am going to launch SEA48, the Seattle area version with 48 girls... who are all 48. Stay tuned.
I am going to launch SEA48, the Seattle area version with 48 girls... who are all 48. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Snake
2013 is the year of the snake. Snake is the sixth animal in the zodiac. For the zodiac sign of snake, we use a character that looks like this: 巳, which is a different character from when we write the animal snake--such as the Japanese language. The character is said to be modeled after a fetus or a snake coming out of the ground, therefore symbolizes new beginning or new discovery. That meaning is also drawn from the fact that snakes shed their skin. Japanese people also believe snakes to be god's creatures that brings fortune and longevity.
From 2002 to 2010, my mother had sent me a zodiac animal figure for the following year to be displayed on our mantel for Christmas. When she passed away in 2011, she had just two more to go to complete the collection of all 12 animals. I asked my sister in law if she would send me the next two in her place and she kindly obliged. A beautiful dragon arrived that year and for this year, she sent a very friendly looking snake figure. When I open the bin full of those animals that stays in the garage, I feel a lot of love from both my mother and then from my sister in law. From next year on, I look forward to revisiting the animals, thinking back to the year my mother sent it to me and thinking about where my daughter will be the next time we see that animal.
I had a odd year last year of grieving and suffering some more loss of friends and colleagues. A new beginning is just what I need. And I will write more posts this year, I swear.
Happy New Year to you all.
From 2002 to 2010, my mother had sent me a zodiac animal figure for the following year to be displayed on our mantel for Christmas. When she passed away in 2011, she had just two more to go to complete the collection of all 12 animals. I asked my sister in law if she would send me the next two in her place and she kindly obliged. A beautiful dragon arrived that year and for this year, she sent a very friendly looking snake figure. When I open the bin full of those animals that stays in the garage, I feel a lot of love from both my mother and then from my sister in law. From next year on, I look forward to revisiting the animals, thinking back to the year my mother sent it to me and thinking about where my daughter will be the next time we see that animal.
I had a odd year last year of grieving and suffering some more loss of friends and colleagues. A new beginning is just what I need. And I will write more posts this year, I swear.
Happy New Year to you all.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Remembering
October 5th marked one year since my mother's passing. I can't tell if this past year was fast or slow for me but having survived the first year of grief, I feel an odd sense of relief. I've had waves of emotions in between my normal routine and started to figure out how to exist without a mother. I call my dad about once a week and we chat for about an hour each time and I've noticed that he has also developed his new routine to get through each day.
In Japan, there are family gatherings after someone passes away based on the Buddhist tradition--which most people follow. They are on the 7th, 14th, 21st, 28th, 35th, 42nd, and 49th day after their death, with the idea that every 7 days the deceased will stand in judgement in front of a god (like St. Peter) as to weather they can go to heaven. So the families get together and pray for their soul. It's also common that the cremated remains of the deceased will be put into their grave on the 49th day, though in some cases people wait a year.
Then the tradition continues to families getting together on 1st, 3rd, 7th, 13th, 17th, 23rd, 27th, 33rd and/or 50th year after a person dies. Each time, you go to a temple, a monk will read a prayer, you pay your respect, and you go eat. I remember attending these things for my grandfather on my father's side who passed away before I was born. I found this tradition amazing. It's put together to truly remember someone and honor their life.
This is a side note, but I recently found out that my father, who was baptized Catholic in his early 70s waited until then--though he had an interest in converting many years prior--because as the first born son he felt obligated to his father to remain a Buddhist until the last of the gatherings (in our case it was 33rd year). This may also have been because there was a huge fight when my father married my mother, a Catholic (they reconciled pretty fast), so he may have felt this to be a respectful gesture to his father, but that's just my speculation.
Being that my family is Catholic (particularly my mother who almost became a nun), none of the above traditions technically apply. But, given that we're Japanese, there is a little bit of a hybrid situation as it did in funeral service. So my father and brother felt it would be good to have a ceremony to mark the first year since my mother's passing with a private mass and a luncheon with close relatives. And at that ceremony, we would put my mother's remains in the crypt, which is located at the church that my family attends (my parents bought a space there some years ago and paid for everything so we wouldn't have to. More on that topic later). So I took a solo trip back for 10 days.
I made a trip back with my family this past spring but it's still strange to stay at my parents' house without my mom. I did not sleep much during my stay and I realized it was partly stress. I was put in charge of sorting and finding ways to get rid of my mother's belongings. I took care of some last fall, right after her death (which was hell), and some this past spring. But the woman owned a lot of stuff so there was still a mountain of things to go through which was also adding to the stress.
Then there is the whole inheritance situation.
Let me tell you the complicated, multiple-hoop-jumping process that is international inheritance transactions. First is the obvious division of the estate, which was smooth because my dad, my brother and I get along, THANK GOD. But then, we had an accountant prepare an official document which has to have all of our signatures and official stamp, called "Hanko." Everyone living in Japan has to own one of these that has your name on it in a unique design and that very stamp is registered with your proof of residency. You use Hanko on all official documents and it serves as a notarized document.
I wrapped up some others for my aunts which I gave away at the luncheon and one of them busted it open on the spot and put it on her. I also gave away some small items to my close friends who knew my mom since their childhood, which made them happy and very touched.
I read a book called The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion last year and in it, she said she held onto one set of clothing and a pair of shoes that belonged her late husband and couldn't put her finger on why until she realized that she was keeping it in case he came back. I can relate to this. It is difficult to get rid of someone's belongings because it's admitting that they are truly gone, and because you feel they might be angry somehow. I keep wondering and hoping my mother approves of the choices I am making, which is silly but is pretty profound. But at the same time, this felt good. Pieces of my mother's spirit was spreading to people who loved her. I would not have been ready to do this before this point, so it was the right time. I was now entering the next phase of my grief and survival.
I am nowhere near done, but put a pretty good dent in it this time. Maybe it is good to be so far away so I have some distance and time in between these trying tasks. Or maybe that drags out the sadness. Either way, I don't have a choice to do it a little bit at a time. My brother thanked me up and down for taking care of this. I laugh a little at our gender specific roles we've played in this aftermath.
The ceremony was nice and quiet. I cried during the mass all over again. We watched my father put the urn into the designated space in the crypt and I couldn't help but think about some day in the future when we would do this again with my father. We watched the man seal the marble plate with my mother's name on it and it was done.
This was not a restful trip but productive. I cheered up my father just by being there and I took care of things. I also had just enough time to see my friends and shop for my husband and daughter who was lighting the torch and waiting for me back home. I realize I'm lucky I have someone to go home to -- both ways.
In Japan, there are family gatherings after someone passes away based on the Buddhist tradition--which most people follow. They are on the 7th, 14th, 21st, 28th, 35th, 42nd, and 49th day after their death, with the idea that every 7 days the deceased will stand in judgement in front of a god (like St. Peter) as to weather they can go to heaven. So the families get together and pray for their soul. It's also common that the cremated remains of the deceased will be put into their grave on the 49th day, though in some cases people wait a year.
Then the tradition continues to families getting together on 1st, 3rd, 7th, 13th, 17th, 23rd, 27th, 33rd and/or 50th year after a person dies. Each time, you go to a temple, a monk will read a prayer, you pay your respect, and you go eat. I remember attending these things for my grandfather on my father's side who passed away before I was born. I found this tradition amazing. It's put together to truly remember someone and honor their life.
This is a side note, but I recently found out that my father, who was baptized Catholic in his early 70s waited until then--though he had an interest in converting many years prior--because as the first born son he felt obligated to his father to remain a Buddhist until the last of the gatherings (in our case it was 33rd year). This may also have been because there was a huge fight when my father married my mother, a Catholic (they reconciled pretty fast), so he may have felt this to be a respectful gesture to his father, but that's just my speculation.
Being that my family is Catholic (particularly my mother who almost became a nun), none of the above traditions technically apply. But, given that we're Japanese, there is a little bit of a hybrid situation as it did in funeral service. So my father and brother felt it would be good to have a ceremony to mark the first year since my mother's passing with a private mass and a luncheon with close relatives. And at that ceremony, we would put my mother's remains in the crypt, which is located at the church that my family attends (my parents bought a space there some years ago and paid for everything so we wouldn't have to. More on that topic later). So I took a solo trip back for 10 days.
I made a trip back with my family this past spring but it's still strange to stay at my parents' house without my mom. I did not sleep much during my stay and I realized it was partly stress. I was put in charge of sorting and finding ways to get rid of my mother's belongings. I took care of some last fall, right after her death (which was hell), and some this past spring. But the woman owned a lot of stuff so there was still a mountain of things to go through which was also adding to the stress.
Then there is the whole inheritance situation.
Let me tell you the complicated, multiple-hoop-jumping process that is international inheritance transactions. First is the obvious division of the estate, which was smooth because my dad, my brother and I get along, THANK GOD. But then, we had an accountant prepare an official document which has to have all of our signatures and official stamp, called "Hanko." Everyone living in Japan has to own one of these that has your name on it in a unique design and that very stamp is registered with your proof of residency. You use Hanko on all official documents and it serves as a notarized document.
Like these. They are all the same name but different designs
Do I have one of these? No. Because while I am a citizen, I am not a resident. So, I have to get my signature notarized where I reside, which is Seattle, and the way you do that is to go to the Japanese consulate. This past spring was all about me and my brother going over multiple bank and investment documents that belonged to my mother, requesting all forms that needs signing (including a document that states that we give my brother permission to be the executor), and carrying those back with me to the States so I can get them notarized. I took a trip to the consulate and just camped out at a window, signing and thumb printing (in place of a stamp) each in front of the staff, who I must say were very kind and patient (I realize that is what they are there for but still). Then I sent them back to my brother via registered mail so he can proceed with moving funds to my bank account in Tokyo. All of this cost about $350 by the way.
During my last visit to Tokyo I went to my bank and got information on how best to transfer funds internationally (which has different rules according to where you are moving the money--in the case of the US, you have to keep the Patriot Act in mind). I was exhausted. I hope it all goes through before my daughter goes to college.
Then there is the matter of the US accounts. My father, being a finance expert is super smart about money and has a couple of US accounts which are joint accounts with my mother. He has to present a death certificate to remove my mother's name from the account, which is of course in Japanese. Most large banks have a Japanese staff somewhere to say that that document is authentic, but just to be safe I called the American Embassy in Tokyo and asked what people do in these situations. They told me that anyone can translate the document, but the translator has to get a notarized paper what states what they translated was true. So I translated the death certificate, made the appointment and took a trip to the US consulate which is located on the same grounds as the embassy I learned and went through so much security, it wasn't funny. I am now an expert on what consulates do in both countries. I should start a service.
I also tackled my mother's belongings with much more momentum than the last two times. We have this custom called "Katami Wake" which translates to "Keepsake gifts" where you share the belongings of the deceased with close friends and families so many people can have a piece from that person. This is obviously a very daughterly task so first took out my mother's jewelry cases and spread them all out on the dining room table. The woman liked to accessorize. "Jeez, mom" I actually uttered. She and I went through things right before she passed away when I was visiting last fall. I took a bunch then. But still there was a ton. I took a couple of more things and then I sorted some stuff for my three nieces to use later. I categorized things by types and made a display. I did the same thing with her purses.
Then I invited my female cousins and had a party. I threatened them to take as many things as they could. They were modest and polite about it but took things.
After that, I went through all the rest of my mother's every day clothes that was left and bagged them up and told our very faithful Filipino cleaning lady, who has been working for my parents for years and loved my mom, to take whatever she wanted and she took all the clothes, purses, and the accessories I left out for her. I LOVE HER AND WANT TO MARRY HER.
During my last visit to Tokyo I went to my bank and got information on how best to transfer funds internationally (which has different rules according to where you are moving the money--in the case of the US, you have to keep the Patriot Act in mind). I was exhausted. I hope it all goes through before my daughter goes to college.
Then there is the matter of the US accounts. My father, being a finance expert is super smart about money and has a couple of US accounts which are joint accounts with my mother. He has to present a death certificate to remove my mother's name from the account, which is of course in Japanese. Most large banks have a Japanese staff somewhere to say that that document is authentic, but just to be safe I called the American Embassy in Tokyo and asked what people do in these situations. They told me that anyone can translate the document, but the translator has to get a notarized paper what states what they translated was true. So I translated the death certificate, made the appointment and took a trip to the US consulate which is located on the same grounds as the embassy I learned and went through so much security, it wasn't funny. I am now an expert on what consulates do in both countries. I should start a service.
I also tackled my mother's belongings with much more momentum than the last two times. We have this custom called "Katami Wake" which translates to "Keepsake gifts" where you share the belongings of the deceased with close friends and families so many people can have a piece from that person. This is obviously a very daughterly task so first took out my mother's jewelry cases and spread them all out on the dining room table. The woman liked to accessorize. "Jeez, mom" I actually uttered. She and I went through things right before she passed away when I was visiting last fall. I took a bunch then. But still there was a ton. I took a couple of more things and then I sorted some stuff for my three nieces to use later. I categorized things by types and made a display. I did the same thing with her purses.
Do you see what I'm saying?
Then I invited my female cousins and had a party. I threatened them to take as many things as they could. They were modest and polite about it but took things.
I actually didn't expect my male cousin to take things. However, it's awesome that he took this Egyptian thing saying it would go well with his other Egyptian stuff. Sure. Just take.
After that, I went through all the rest of my mother's every day clothes that was left and bagged them up and told our very faithful Filipino cleaning lady, who has been working for my parents for years and loved my mom, to take whatever she wanted and she took all the clothes, purses, and the accessories I left out for her. I LOVE HER AND WANT TO MARRY HER.
I wrapped up some others for my aunts which I gave away at the luncheon and one of them busted it open on the spot and put it on her. I also gave away some small items to my close friends who knew my mom since their childhood, which made them happy and very touched.
I read a book called The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion last year and in it, she said she held onto one set of clothing and a pair of shoes that belonged her late husband and couldn't put her finger on why until she realized that she was keeping it in case he came back. I can relate to this. It is difficult to get rid of someone's belongings because it's admitting that they are truly gone, and because you feel they might be angry somehow. I keep wondering and hoping my mother approves of the choices I am making, which is silly but is pretty profound. But at the same time, this felt good. Pieces of my mother's spirit was spreading to people who loved her. I would not have been ready to do this before this point, so it was the right time. I was now entering the next phase of my grief and survival.
I am nowhere near done, but put a pretty good dent in it this time. Maybe it is good to be so far away so I have some distance and time in between these trying tasks. Or maybe that drags out the sadness. Either way, I don't have a choice to do it a little bit at a time. My brother thanked me up and down for taking care of this. I laugh a little at our gender specific roles we've played in this aftermath.
The ceremony was nice and quiet. I cried during the mass all over again. We watched my father put the urn into the designated space in the crypt and I couldn't help but think about some day in the future when we would do this again with my father. We watched the man seal the marble plate with my mother's name on it and it was done.
Rest in peace, mom
This was not a restful trip but productive. I cheered up my father just by being there and I took care of things. I also had just enough time to see my friends and shop for my husband and daughter who was lighting the torch and waiting for me back home. I realize I'm lucky I have someone to go home to -- both ways.
The street in front of my family's home
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Voting
I've never voted in my life. Not because I don't care, but because of my legal status. I left Japan when I was 15 (way before I took interest in politics), and I was on a student visa from 15 until 24, then on a work visa until 27, then obtained my permanent residency or green card (which, by the way, is not green). As a resident alien (title I love), I can work and therefore required to pay taxes, but two things I can't do is vote and serve on a jury duty. The latter is perhaps a gift in some ways (though I realize it's an important civic duty), in that I can just write "not a citizen" on a post card and not worry about getting out of work or being stuck in a difficult case for days, but the not being able to vote is tough.
Especially today.
There are issues at stake that are important to me and people around me as I have spent nearly 30 years in this country. I wish so much that I could express my voice in a form of a vote, but I can't. People have asked why don't I just become a citizen. It is a logical question to them, but very complicated, emotional question to me and I choke on the answer every time. One is the identity. As most of my family is in Japan, I am still very much connected to my home country, despite the fact that I have been in the US twice as long. I think it's because that is my origin of my being, where I was raised in my formative years, where the house I grew up is (with people who raised and grew up with me in it), and where I go to be with the people who really know my true colors, and ground me in between my adventures. Changing citizenship would feel like I am throwing away all of that and severing my roots from my body. That's not necessarily true and it sounds dramatic, but that is how it feels.
The other is the practicality. If Japan offered the option of a dual citizenship as many countries do, I would probably obtain citizenship in the US. But Japan doesn't, so having a green card is the closest thing to having dual citizenship. Should something happen to my family in Japan, I could go and stay longer than a tourist would be able to and have the rights to do things that visitors don't. Should some situation arise in the US where I felt unsafe, I could take my daughter there. And that is another thing--opportunity for my daughter. Because I am a Japanese citizen and her father is a US citizen, she has both. She can have that until she is 22 and she has to chose. At this point, she is likely to chose the US citizenship which is what I expect and am fine with, but should she choose to go study in Japan during college, she can have the benefit of a citizen and possibly work there, etc. It opens up more choices for her.
Most Japanese people I know in the US keep their green cards like I do for similar reasons. We're not an immigrating people anymore. The wave of Japanese farmers that came over (a.k.a Isseis) in the 1800s came for better life like all the other immigrants. But then there was a period of time in the US that banned Asians from immigrating and after that was WWII when Japanese immigrants and Japanese Americans were interned which caused all kinds of emotional turmoil about where they belong. Then Japan rebuilt during post war and became big and strong (I apologize for this totally over simplified history, BTW) so the need to immigrate went away for the most part. Now, Japanese people who come to the US are either for school or if their company sends them. Most of them go back. Handful of them don't--like me. Coming here changed my life. It opened doors that I couldn't have imagined and it helped me to find who I am. Not to mention I would have never met my husband who thinks I'm funny. That alone is a life changing event. I care deeply for the future of this place and I work hard every day to contribute in gratitude. Yet I have no voice because of the choices I made. It's hard being me, I know.
So I can engage in conversations and perhaps inform people who might be on the fence. I can give money or my time to places that I believe is going to do some good or doing great goods. Maybe things will change for future elections for me but for this one, I have to once again sit on the side line and just route.
Do the right thing, America. I believe in you.
Especially today.
There are issues at stake that are important to me and people around me as I have spent nearly 30 years in this country. I wish so much that I could express my voice in a form of a vote, but I can't. People have asked why don't I just become a citizen. It is a logical question to them, but very complicated, emotional question to me and I choke on the answer every time. One is the identity. As most of my family is in Japan, I am still very much connected to my home country, despite the fact that I have been in the US twice as long. I think it's because that is my origin of my being, where I was raised in my formative years, where the house I grew up is (with people who raised and grew up with me in it), and where I go to be with the people who really know my true colors, and ground me in between my adventures. Changing citizenship would feel like I am throwing away all of that and severing my roots from my body. That's not necessarily true and it sounds dramatic, but that is how it feels.
The other is the practicality. If Japan offered the option of a dual citizenship as many countries do, I would probably obtain citizenship in the US. But Japan doesn't, so having a green card is the closest thing to having dual citizenship. Should something happen to my family in Japan, I could go and stay longer than a tourist would be able to and have the rights to do things that visitors don't. Should some situation arise in the US where I felt unsafe, I could take my daughter there. And that is another thing--opportunity for my daughter. Because I am a Japanese citizen and her father is a US citizen, she has both. She can have that until she is 22 and she has to chose. At this point, she is likely to chose the US citizenship which is what I expect and am fine with, but should she choose to go study in Japan during college, she can have the benefit of a citizen and possibly work there, etc. It opens up more choices for her.
Most Japanese people I know in the US keep their green cards like I do for similar reasons. We're not an immigrating people anymore. The wave of Japanese farmers that came over (a.k.a Isseis) in the 1800s came for better life like all the other immigrants. But then there was a period of time in the US that banned Asians from immigrating and after that was WWII when Japanese immigrants and Japanese Americans were interned which caused all kinds of emotional turmoil about where they belong. Then Japan rebuilt during post war and became big and strong (I apologize for this totally over simplified history, BTW) so the need to immigrate went away for the most part. Now, Japanese people who come to the US are either for school or if their company sends them. Most of them go back. Handful of them don't--like me. Coming here changed my life. It opened doors that I couldn't have imagined and it helped me to find who I am. Not to mention I would have never met my husband who thinks I'm funny. That alone is a life changing event. I care deeply for the future of this place and I work hard every day to contribute in gratitude. Yet I have no voice because of the choices I made. It's hard being me, I know.
So I can engage in conversations and perhaps inform people who might be on the fence. I can give money or my time to places that I believe is going to do some good or doing great goods. Maybe things will change for future elections for me but for this one, I have to once again sit on the side line and just route.
Do the right thing, America. I believe in you.
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