WOMAN: And for that you were probably locked up in the cage, right?
MAN: The cage, you say. I ain’t afraid of that place. I lost count how many times I was locked up. You think they guard us there? You know, in jail, the guards and wardens are all my pals. They’re afraid of me: all of them, the guards and even the head boss.
Once, I snuck inside a U.S. military base to get my share of war booty, you might say. I stole a truck packed with American bedsheets, a whole truck full.
I was arrested right away by an MP and thrown in jail. But everyone was happy to see me. They all said, “Welcome back and have a good time.” But there was a new guy among the guards who didn’t know me. A real greenhorn! He was so stuck up too! People new on the job tend to be stuck up. I told him, “Sir, I need go to the toilet,” but he acted like he couldn’t hear me. I could barely hold it anymore I had to go so bad, so I said again, “Sir, I have to go to the toilet.” This time I really raised my voice. And then I just pulled down my pants in front of everyone (to make his meaning clear, he puts his hand on his groin) and began scratching my crotch. Again I said, “I have to go to the toilet.” And after that, he comes out with, “Are you still going to act like an asshole even though you’re locked up in jail?”
I held my anger in, went to the toilet, and had a hard time shitting, but then I kicked that greenhorn in the crotch and knocked him to the floor. “Whether you’re a guard or a prisoner, we’re all just men. Take a good look. There’s no difference between my shit and yours. Take a good look.” And to make sure he got it, I grabbed him by the back of the neck and stuck his head into the toilet bowl. Naturally I had to serve extra time in jail, and I got beaten. But I taught him a lesson. He became really nice and docile after that and stopped picking on me.
In jail, I was a real somebody. For me, it’s just like home.
WOMAN: If it was really your home, why did you leave it?
MAN: People get restless wherever they are.
WOMAN: What can you do? I guess people who are tricked by others deserve what they get.
MAN: That’s really stupid. Maybe some people get what they deserve, but the really bad ones are those who trick people. Why do they have to go and deceive people?
WOMAN (irritated): That’s enough out of you. Whether it is jail or a place like this, it’s all the same to me. As soon as you get used to it, it’ll be fine.
MAN: “As soon as you get used to it, it’ll be fine”? What a stupid thing to say. Don’t you have any common sense? You make me laugh! You’re behaving like a fool.
(The woman pays no attention to him. She picks up a munjurū hat and starts playing with it and turning it around. Eventually, she puts it on and stands up and dances. The music is called “Munjurū.”)
MAN: In prison, at least they treated us like human beings.… But what sort of place is this? We’re no better than slaves. They told us that we’d get rice porridge to eat. Some people say that, in jail, they put poison in food, just a bit at a time, to kill people off slowly. That’s a big lie. They say that the food sucks. It doesn’t suck at all. Prison is much more humane than this place, whether it’s food or anything else. Sometimes they used to give us curried rice, at others fried rice. But what kind of place is this? We’re slaves, no better than slaves.
(The woman is completely ecstatic and absorbed in dancing.)
MAN: (with hatred): One of these days, I’ll grab that little runt and beat him to death with my bare hands. He’s shameless and thinks it’s okay to trick people, drag them away from their homes, and lock them up here.
(Imitating the voice of the trainer) “You’ll be given plenty of food. You won’t need to worry about clothing or housing at all. What’s more, you’ll have a chance to get an education. You can study as much as you want. There’s nothing difficult about the job. All you have to do is sit back and watch the money roll in.”
(The woman is absorbed in her dance.)
MAN: You really are behaving like a complete fool. Don’t you feel bad about what they’ve done to us?
WOMAN:
MAN: Do you think that this place is better than where you were before? Didn’t you make a pile of money at that whorehouse in Okinawa? What district did you work in?
WOMAN:
MAN: Yoshiwara?
WOMAN:
MAN: Jikkanji? Sakaemachi? Harborview?
WOMAN:
MAN: Naminoue? Sakurazaka? Center? Teruya?10
WOMAN: Oh shut up! That’s enough out of you. What difference does it make to you where I used to work? It’s none of your business.
MAN: Of course, it’s none of my business, but I still have a right to ask, don’t I? Why do you get so mad when I’m trying to have a friendly chat with you? So you won’t tell me anything.
WOMAN: I won’t tell you anything. Do you think I’m hiding something from you? What a fool! You read too much into my words. When a man reads too much into people’s words, he ends up making an ass of himself. When a man talks too much, he loses all sense of shame.
MAN: …
WOMAN: Everyone has certain subjects they don’t want to talk about. Everyone has things they’d rather not be asked about. So just keep quiet.… Resign yourself and put up with the shame. Even a person without an “education” ought to have a little common sense. Don’t behave like such a fool.
(The man is silent but livid with anger.)
(An awkward pause.)
WOMAN: (to placate him): Even I managed to get my hands on six sheets.…
MAN: Huh?
WOMAN: American bedsheets. I stowed them away in my chest of drawers.
MAN:
WOMAN: At first, I had ten of them. But Yoshi said she didn’t have any, so I gave two of them to her and then I gave away another two to Akemi. I’ve never used them even once. They’re still as good as new. Brand new and spotless.
I got them when I used to work as a maid for an American officer. I turned him down the first time he offered them to me because he was just a dirty old man. I wasn’t going to do something I might regret later just to get some bedsheets, so I said to him, “No thank you.” Even though he was totally bald, he had a really filthy mind.… But he was a nice guy just the same.… His wife was a real terror when she lost her temper. He made his move on me once when I was cleaning the bathroom, but I told him in English, “Say ma.” I meant I would blurt out everything to his wife. And then he stopped what he was doing right away.
(Nostalgic) When he went back to the States, he gave me the bedsheets and two dogs, both German shepherds. The dogs died a long time ago, but I still have the bedsheets because I never used them and took good care of them. They’re just like new, all ten of them.
MAN: You said just a minute ago you only had six. How come you have ten now?
WOMAN: I said ten. Really.
MAN: But you said that you gave some away to your friends, so that you ended up with six.
WOMAN: Yes, but the ones that I gave away to Akemi and the others were from Japan (yamatomono);11 they were made in Japan. Japanese sheets are paper thin and cheap, so I gave those away. The American sheets are first rate, so I put them aside and kept them for myself. If you think I’m lying to you, you can stop by my house some day, and I’ll show them to you.
MAN: Who gives a damn whether you have American sheets?
WOMAN: You said I was lying.
MAN: You are a bloody liar! That’s all a pack of lies. I bet you don’t have any American sheets at all.
WOMAN: I do have them. I told you the truth. All you have to do is to ask Yoshi, and she’ll vouch for me.
MAN: If I took this matter before a judge, I’d win this case, hands down. Tricking people is a crime. The worst criminal is someone who tricks people.
WOMAN (once again as she fools around with the stage props): When I was a little kid, I used to go to the theater and watch plays because my mom was really fond of one of the actors. He was a man, but he looked really beautiful.
MA
N: I’ll knock him down and beat the living daylights out of him. Since I have the proof, I’ll take him to court. Justice is sure to win.
WOMAN: He put rice powder on his face and danced just like a woman. He was so good that even real women couldn’t compete with him.
MAN: This is a secret. Don’t breathe a word to anyone until I take this case to court.
WOMAN: I won’t tell anyone. Who would I tell anyway?
MAN: Because women tend to talk too much.
WOMAN: Not me. If I promise I won’t tell a soul, I absolutely won’t, even if lightning strikes me.
MAN (relieved): OK. (Taking a stance and standing beside woman, he recites the following:) “Even if my heart should dry up and wither, your words will always be imprinted in my mind, but please don’t let anyone else know.”
WOMAN (in response): “Though the thread of a sewing needle may break, how could the thread that draws me to my beloved native town ever break?”12
(All of a sudden, the melody of Jachichibushi wells up, and the two begin to dance in time with its rhythm. The scene is at the village of Anejyasedo at Shuri in the play Peony of the Deep Mountains.
After a short while, the trainer reappears. With a single snap of his whip, he puts an end to the music and sends the man and woman rushing back to their hut.
The trainer struts around the stage in an overbearing manner.)
TRAINER: What’s going on here? What are you two up to? Why do you have to make such a racket?
MAN AND WOMAN:
TRAINER: As soon as I take my eyes off you, you start to misbehave. Where in the world do you think you are? In a brothel, perhaps? Do you think I brought you here on a vacation? Or for a pleasure trip?
MAN AND WOMAN:
TRAINER: It’s because you behave like this that people say you’re opportunists and cowards. [Tut-tutting] The two of you are hopeless!
But I’ll try to be magnanimous this time and overlook your behavior, but just this one time. The next time you pull your tricks, I’ll send you back to the wretched pigsty you came from. (To the man) You’ll go right back to jail, (to the woman) and you to the whorehouse. Do you get it? (The woman keeps nudging the man and urges him to say something, but he resists her and keeps silent. The trainer quickly understands that something is going on.)
TRAINER: I just told you that you shouldn’t be cowardly. If you have something on your mind, be brave and come out with it. Instead of speaking up, you two whisper to each other and try to keep secrets from me.… It’s true, isn’t it? What I just said is true. You two are hatching some plot in secret. (Meaningfully) … In that case, I know just how to deal with you. It won’t be much fun for you when I make you spit it out later.
WOMEN (calling him as he is about to walk away): Wait a minute.
TRAINER: What?
WOMAN: … I just wanted to say that I’m not mixed up in any plot.
TRAINER: … Is that so? Well, in that case, he must be doing the plotting all by himself. What a hero! Well, I really must take my hat off to you. You’re really quite extraordinary.
MAN: …
TRAINER: Well, out with it, then. What do you have to say?
MAN: …
TRAINER: … Hey!
WOMAN (surprised): He was saying that this place is not what we were promised.
(The man looks nervous, but it is already too late.)
TRAINER: Promised? What did I promise you?
WOMAN: He said you tricked us. We’re locked up here and treated like slaves.
TRAINER: … like slaves?
WOMAN: You told us we’d get plenty of clothing and food and wouldn’t lack for anything. You also promised us an education free of charge, so he says you are just a shameless liar.
TRAINER: … anything else?
WOMAN (falling into her stride): He says that he is going to take you to court when he has collected enough evidence against you. Justice will win out in the end.
TRAINER: … Is that all?
WOMAN: He said, “I will grab that little runt and beat him to death with my own hands.”
(The trainer all but flies to the other side of the room and knocks the man to the ground. The man starts to wail and to writhe about on the ground. The lash of the whip can be heard, the trainer barks out orders at the man, and he gradually grows docile.)
TRAINER [panting]: Both of you are just impossible. What do you know about justice or trials, when both of you are just jailbirds. You make me laugh. You say you were promised something different. Who in hell do you think you are? Even though you’re both slackers, all you do is gripe all day long. What is different from your contracts? Aren’t you both provided with food and clothing as I promised you? Plus you get to live in a very pleasant home. And on top of that, you never even have to lift a finger and work. You get paid to sit around and do nothing all day long.
WOMAN: But we were told that we’d have a chance to get an education free of charge.
TRAINER: An “education,” you say. [He cackles with laughter.] What a laugh. Aren’t you getting your education here? Every day you get treated to a great lecture about cultural anthropology. Maybe it is just a bit too great for the likes of you. (He aims a kick at the man on the ground.) Stand up, you! I know that this is almost like a play, and it’s really a little bit too childish. But you’re mistaken if you think that you can improve your living conditions by griping all the time. Unless you try hard and work, how can you make any progress? That’s my firm belief. The problem with the two of you is that you’re spoiled. (He roars at them.) Get back to your hut.
(The two hurry back into their hut.)
TRAINER: OK, that was fine. The main thing is to be quick when you obey orders.
That’s the most basic requirement for adapting to the times we live in. All right? Remember that we’re living in a time of emergency.
Ignore minor differences and strive for the good of the greater whole. Endure the unendurable, bear the unbearable. One hundred million citizens united in a single body must solve the difficult problems of the nation. We must all be prepared to lay down our lives in sacrifice to the nation, whether our end comes today or tomorrow.13 You may be imperfect Japanese, but you’re Japanese all the same! You’re citizens of Japan!
But you’re still not completely Japanese. The most important thing you need is the right spirit. There’s a saying that goes like this: to fabricate a Buddha but to leave out the soul. The two of you lack soul. I’m going to have to put a little soul into you.
You’d better be ready, because I’m very strict. (He raises his voice a notch.) You’d better be careful! Bow!
From now on, think of my commands as if they came from the mouth of the emperor of Japan himself! Disobedience is out of the question! I expect blind obedience.… Do you get it? This is what’s called the Japanese sense of order. Since you’re also Japanese, you must value Japanese culture and respect Japanese tradition. It’s absolutely necessary to love and accept Japanese things without reservation.
To start with, we must do something about the way you mangle the national language. Cultural anthropologists say that language is the vehicle for culture. If you board the vehicle too late, how can you expect to enjoy the fruits of culture? But let’s leave that aside. In short, you’d better learn quickly how to use proper Japanese. According to an old proverb, “Habits are worth more than an education.” So you have to acquire good habits. Consequently, from now on, I forbid you to use the Okinawa dialect. It’s strictly forbidden. If you break this rule, you’ll have to wear this thing around your neck.
(The trainer flips the placard that says “No Okinawans or Koreans allowed” over to its reverse side, which reads “Dialect Placard,” also written in sloppy penmanship.14
The man and woman mutter under their breath, [That’s a dirty trick! What a jerk.]
TRAINER: Stop making so much noise! Shut up! (In an exaggerated way) That’s an order!
MAN AND WOMAN:
TRAINER: OK. Are w
e all ready to start? You’ll soon get used to it. In this country, everyone—from the tiniest infant to the most elderly man and woman—knows how to speak Japanese. There’s nothing to it at all.
(Pause)
This is just between us, but, to be frank, I just can’t stand the Ryukyu dialect. It has an undulating kind of intonation that you can’t get your hands around; it makes you think of an earthworm slithering along the ground. It has a pronunciation that sticks to the roof of your mouth. It’s excessively polite, pretentious, and impossible to understand. When I hear a guy speaking Ryukyu, I can’t help but think that his mouth and his face are saying two entirely different things. But the worst thing of all, the thing that bugs me the most, is that someone would dare to speak a language that cannot be understood by other Japanese in our very own country. We Japanese people must speak in Japanese. If we don’t, how can we preserve a monolithic unity? Do you get my point?
MAN AND WOMAN:
TRAINER: All right, let’s get started. I’m going to teach both of you to speak Japanese. You have to start with first things first. Stand up straight and open your mouths wide!
(In a loud voice) Long live the emperor, banzai! Long live the emperor, banzai! Long live the emperor, banzai!
You’re impressed by that, right? It has such a wonderful sound to it! I don’t know what it is—the combination of vowels, the musical ring to it, the manliness, the decisive ending, the sense of security it gives you—it’s a typically Japanese expression.
TRAINER: (to the man): Try to say it.
MAN: Okay. (Taking a solemn stance) L … Long live the emperor, banjaii.
TRAINER: Not banjaii; it’s banzai.
MAN: Ban … banjaii.
TRAINER: Banzai!
MAN: ban …
TRAINER: … zai! You have to feel reverence in your heart when you say it.
MAN: Ban …
TRAINER: … zai!
MAN:
TRAINER: Zai! … Zai! … You idiot! And you still pretend that you’re Japanese! You’ll have to wear this around your neck until you can say it correctly. (He puts the dialect placard around the man’s neck.)
Islands of Protest Page 27
