by Bruce Feiler
The others laughed and clapped their hands together, silently.
“Anyway, we are glad you came,” he said. “Now, we drink.”
Mrs. C appeared with a plate full of teacups and lemon sponge cakes and set them down on the table. The mood lightened as we passed around the refreshments. The other teachers did not dwell on Mr. C’s mother, except to explain that this indoor memorial was a Shinto tradition. Although most Japanese have Buddhist burials, they said, Mr. C chose to have Shinto rites because of his family’s close connection to the neighborhood shrine.
Soon the conversation returned to my remarkable transformation.
“The other day I took Mr. Bruce to the doll shop to buy his farewell present,” Kato-sensei said. “He looked at each doll very carefully and asked the master how it was made. He was very curious and polite. I was surprised to find many Japanese aspects in his attitude. He gave me the impression of being more Japanese than a Japanese.
“But,” he continued, now turning to face me, “over the last year I have also been trying to understand your country, the United States, through you. I found in you the energetic power of America, and also the Frontier Spirit. You came to our country and lived by yourself. You taught with great enthusiasm, using your hands and your face. You even use your hands when you talk on the telephone. This is very interesting for us. You have been an excellent diplomat for your country.”
The others raised their glasses and drank a toast of tea on my behalf. “The Frontier Spirit,” they repeated to themselves, “…more Japanese than a Japanese.”
“Thank you for your comments,” I said. “You are very kind, and I have learned a lot from you.” I paused briefly and took a sip of tea. “But I would like to remind you that I am not Japanese. I am an American. I look, think, and act like an American. Sometimes, however, when I am with you, I can think and act like a Japanese.”
The men nodded politely, and I continued.
“The same is true for you,” I said. “You are all Japanese, but often you think and act like Americans when you are around me. You talk directly; you listen to my ideas. Sometimes you even laugh at my jokes.”
Mr. C stared dumbfounded for a moment, then giggled nervously.
“The problem that I face is knowing when to act like you and when to act like me. Perhaps that is the secret of what you call ‘internationalization.’ None of us can be one color all the time. We must learn how to change naturally.”
The room remained silent. I slid my legs out from under me and sat back on the floor.
“You speak from your heart,” Kato-sensei said. “Thank you. It was a great honor having a young American like you in our office. All of us are wishing you luck, happiness, and great success. Also, we are all awaiting news in the twenty-first century reporting that Bruce-sensei has been elected president of the United States of America.”
“Banzai” the teachers cheered.
I often wondered during my time in Japan if there was such a thing as a Japanese equivalent of the “American Dream.” As I sat in this room, enjoying the comfort of this family, I thought of my early days in Sano—in the bath, the hospital, and the kara-oke bar. I left those initial encounters with a queasy feeling, like what a young boy feels after an interminable embrace from an overbearing aunt. “Leave me alone,” I wanted to shout. “Don’t draw me so close. Let me up for air!”
After a while, however, I began to enjoy these intimate encounters—the office enkais, the golf practice sessions after lunch, even the banter across the open desks while I spoke on the telephone. I began to feel at one with this group, and began to admire the amae, or interdependence, that they felt for one another. Young Japanese people dream of earning money and owning land, just as Americans do, but my friends and colleagues in Japan seemed most at peace when they had rekindled that sense of belonging they first knew when they were in school.
As the time came to leave, I once again offered my regrets to Mr. C and said my farewells to the men assembled around the table. I paused a final time before the green-shrouded shrine, clapped my hands together silently, and made my way toward the open door.
“Mr. Bruce,” Kato-sensei called from behind, “please be careful of your health.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Sayonara.”
As Cho and I stepped down from the foyer and slid into our shoes, Mr. C reached inside a cardboard box that lay open on the floor.
“Here,” he said, bending down and lifting a large white envelope above his head, “our Japanese custom.”
I took the envelope and walked backward out the door. As I had learned in my first days in Sano, one never exits a room frontward but backward, out of respect to the group one leaves behind.
We walked to Cho’s car, and I sat down on the passenger’s side. Cho sat down in the driver’s seat and gestured for me to open the package from Mr. Cherry Blossom.
“It’s a gift,” Cho said, “for remembering his family.”
I slid my hand beneath the flap on the back and lifted up the fold. I turned the envelope upside down, and out fell onto my lap a gift from Mr. C that in times of need would warm my heart and uphold my dignity: a small white towel.
A FINAL BOW
THIS BOOK BEGAN five years ago over a slice of homemade liver pie in the kitchen of Makiko Nagata. I didn’t like the pie, but I’m glad I stayed for dessert.
I would like to thank the following people in Japan for their generous support and friendship: Kenji Sakuragi, Kiyoshi Tanuma, and all the men and women of the Ansoku Kyiku Jimush; Masashi Cho, Masami Iizuka, Toshiko Ishii, and all the teachers and students of southwest Tochigi; Dr. Shoichi Endo; Toshiaki and Shigeko Harai; Tsunemasa and Hiromi Sugiyama; Takashi and Kyoko Nagata; my colleagues Laura Sheley and Beth Myers; and my teacher Paul Scott.
Two people in particular helped turn this story into a book: my agent, Jane Dystel, believed deeply in this project; and my editor, Jane von Mehren, discovered the narrative lurking inside my manuscript. In addition, many others offered invaluable support during the writing: Gingie Halloran; Rosemary Daniell; Karen Eastman; Will Philipp; Ben Edwards; Jeffrey Shumlin; Louise Rogers; Max Stier; Cliff Johnson; Leslie Gordon; Jane Fishman; Kathleen Scott; Ben Seale; Jocelyn Ford; Beulah Harper; Henry Meyer; Ethel Mitchel; Masatoshi, Yuji, and Mie Sugiyama; and my grandmother, Aleen Feiler, who saved the letters home.
Finally, I would like to express my profound appreciation to the members of my family. My sister, Cari, has a gift for metaphor. My brother, Andrew, read every draft and improved each one with his vision. And above all I thank my parents, Jane and Ed Feiler, who first taught me how to learn: their voices echo in these pages, and this book is dedicated to them.
GLOSSARY
IT IS MUCH EASIER for native speakers of English to pronounce Japanese than the other way around. With this in mind, several tips will be helpful.
Instead of individual letters, Japanese is composed of syllables, most of which begin with a consonant and end with a vowel. When saying these words, one pronounces each syllable separately. Thus the term kara-oke sounds like kah-rah OH-kay.
Consonants are pronounced approximately as in English, with the following exceptions: g is always hard, as in the word go; s is said as in the word see; and r is said with the tongue touching the roof of the mouth, like the letter d
The following vowels are pronounced differently in Japanese: a as in father; e as in egg; i as in feet; and u as in Bruce.
Below is a list of some of the Japanese words and phrases used in this book. The words marked with an asterisk are the ones I consider to be the main pillars of Japanese educational philosophy.
Gambate kudasai: please do your best.
aisatsu
a formal greeting
amae
a sense of dependence or attachment—like a child’s feeling toward his or her mother
banzai
a cheer, literally meaning “may you live ten thousand years,” formerly used o
nly for the emperor but now acceptable for everybody
burakumin
literally, “hamlet people”; the outcast class of Japanese set up under feudal laws but officially outlawed in 1871
enkai
a drinking party
eta
literally, “people of filth”; one of the earliest names for the outcasts; derived from their association with so-called dirty professions
gaijin
literally, “person from abroad”; the most common Japanese term for a foreigner, sometimes used derogatorily
gaman*
persevere, endure, forbear
han
a small group; used in the classroom for various activities like preparing lunch and completing homework assignments
ijime
bullying; student-on-student violence
juken jigoku
examination hell, a term used to describe the process of preparing for, worrying about, and finally taking entrance examinations for high school and university
juku
an afterschool cram school, or crammer; sometimes called yobik
kanji
the name for the approximately three thousand Chinese characters that make up the core of the written Japanese language
Kansai
the “Western Plain” of Japan, centered around Kyoto and Osaka
Kanto
the “Eastern Plain,” centered on Tokyo and including Tochigi Prefecture
kara-oke
literally, “empty orchestra”; a party game in which revelers sing the lyrics of a song into a microphone while a tape of an orchestra plays background music; also performed with video
kejime*
the line of demarcation that separates two stages of life, like junior high school and high school; also, the code of behavior that one accepts with each new level of responsibility
kodomo
children; Japanese teachers commonly use this word for their teenage students
kokusaika
“internationalization”; a newly minted word to describe Japanese efforts to become more integrated with the rest of the world
kotatsu
a latticed wood frame that sits on the floor, formerly over a fire, but now over an electric heat bulb, that is used for heating the lower half of the body in winter; in summer the bulb is removed, leaving only a table
kumi*
a homeroom class; originally a band of samurai retainers
Meiji
the period between 1868 and 1911 when Japan opened its doors to the West following a long period of isolation; named after the emperor
nanpa
the act of cruising bars, or other hangouts, and picking up dates for casual relations
onegaishimasu
a polite greeting, literally meaning “please do me the favor of…,” which students utter before classes, and teachers say at the start of the school day
san
a formal honorific attached to most names, roughly equivalent to Mr., Mrs., and Miss
sempai/khai*
literally, “senior/junior”; the system of hierarchy used in schools, clubs, and companies to teach deference to seniority
sensei
teacher or master; also used as an honorific similar to son when speaking with educators, doctors, and professors
shinjinrui
literally, “new types”; a slightly pejorative word used to describe young people who enjoy spending money and following Western trends
Shinto
literally, “the Way of the Gods”; a set of beliefs native to Japan that celebrates the spirits living in natural things such as stones, trees, and rice
shitsuke*
discipline; the code of behavior and human relations that the Japanese teach in schools
sushi
slices of raw fish, boiled squid, and other seafood served with sweet rice and soy sauce; not to be confused with sashimi, which is only slices of raw fish
tatami
a thick, woven straw mat about three feet by six feet, often edged in silk, which is used to cover the floors of traditionally appointed rooms
torii
literally, “bird perch”; a gateway, usually made with two horizontal posts and two crosspieces, which marks the entrance to a Shinto shrine
Tokugawa
the period between 1600 and 1868 when Japan isolated itself economically and militarily from other nations; the name comes from the family of shogun rulers who ruled during this time
uchi
one’s own house, or the surroundings to which one belongs; also used to mean “I” or “we”
und-kai
a sports festival; usually held in October around the time of National Sports Day
wabi-sabi
peaceful thoughts, peaceful actions; the feeling of tranquillity and serenity that comes from participating in traditional Japanese activities such as viewing leaves in autumn or cherry blossoms in spring
FURTHER READING
THERE ARE FOUR main types of books on Japan written by foreigners: academic books, which are written for those with an indestructible interest in Japan; business books, which seek to explain the secrets behind the Japanese economic “miracle”; survey books, in which distinguished journalists or scholars examine Japan, “its politics and its people”; and novels, the most popular of which describe a young Western man who goes to Japan and has a thwarted love affair.
The following is meant to be not an exhaustive catalogue but rather a list of some of the books I have found beneficial.
Academic Books. The best book I’ve read on Japanese education is Japan’s High Schools by Thomas Rohlen (University of California Press, 1983). Other helpful works include Society and Education in Japan by Herbert Passim (Columbia University Press, 1965) and The Japanese Educational Challenge by Merry White (Free Press, 1987).
I found several studies on recent Japanese history particularly valuable: A History of Postwar Japan by Masataka Kosaka (Kodansha, 1982); War Without Mercy by John Dower (Pantheon, 1986); and Japan’s Modern Myths by Carol Gluck (Princeton University Press, 1985).
Business Books. Bill Emmott discusses the impact of Japan’s generational changes on the country’s economic fortune in his book The Sun Also Sets (Times Books, 1990). Other important works include Shadows of the Rising Sun by Jared Taylor (Turtle, 1983) and The Reckoning by David Halberstam (Morrow, 1986).
Kenichi Omae, a Japanese consultant, has written an excellent book on internationalization and the Japanese economy called Beyond National Borders (Kodansha, 1987).
Survey Books. Two notable books that seek to be comprehensive are The Sun at Noon by Dick Wilson (David & Charles, 1988) and The Japanese Mind by Robert Christopher (Ballantine, 1983).
H. Paul Varley’s book Japanese Culture (University of Hawaii, third edition, 1984) is a fascinating overview of Japanese arts; and Roland Barthes’s Empire of Signs (Hill & Wang, 1982) provides interesting insights into Japanese behavior.
Novels. John David Morley has written an entertaining novel about a Western man cruising the underside of Japan called Pictures from the Water Trade (Atlantic Monthly Press, 1985).
For a non-Western perspective, a greater number of Japanese novels are now becoming available in translation. A captivating book on the changing values of young Japanese is A Wild Sheep Chase, by Haruki Murakami (Kodansha, 1990). In addition, two books by the well-known author Natsume Soseki directly concern the relationship between Japanese teachers and students: Botchan, written in 1904, and Kokoro, written in 1914. Both are published in English by Charles E. Turtle.
Finally, I would like to mention two books about teaching which were an inspiration to me: Tracy Kidder’s study of a fifth-grade teacher in Massachusetts, Among Schoolchildren (Hough-ton Mifflin, 1989); and Pat Conroy’s tale (Bantam, pbk., 1987) of a young man who ventures to a little-known place, gets inspired by the children he meets, and returns to write a tribute to these people
and their world. The name of his book is The Water Is Wide, but through his words he made that distance smaller.
SEARCHABLE TERMS
Adolescence in Japan
After-hours clubs
Aisatsu. See Introductions
Akahito, Yamabe
Akera, Kanko
Akihito (emperor of Japan)
Amae (dependence)
Amaterasu Omikami (sun goddess)
Anatomy of Dependence, The (Doi)
Anthem, Japanese national
Arai-san (office lady)
Arakawa, Hiroyuki
Arinori, Mori
Aristotle
Autumn excursions (momijigari)
Aya (student)
Barthes, Roland
Basho, Matsuo
Bathing, communal
Beatles
Beethoven, Ludwig van
Ben (author’s friend)
Best, Pete
Blake, William
Bowing
Bridgestone Tire Company
Buddhism
Burakumin (worker class)
Buttons, rituals involving
C, Mr. See Cherry Blossom, Mr.
C’s, four: character
citizenship
communication
curriculum
Calendar cycle, Chinese
Calligraphy
Chatwin, Bruce
Cherry Blossom, Mr.
as interpreter of Japanese customs: baths
Cherry Blossom, Mr. (cont.)
