People usually have one or two stories they do not prefer to
discuss. I too have an experience which I have had a hard time
getting over. This experience, which forced me to make my first
serious decision in life, gave me valuable lessons about life in
Japan, but also left me in deep misanthropy for a period. Though
I still have hesitation to use some expressions, I hope to finish
the process of conquest by putting it in words.
I am, according to the definition of the Japanese educational
system, a "foreign returnee." I have stayed abroad, mainly in the
United States, and attended high school until I was a sophomore.
As my age neared that of a normal Japanese to take the high
school entrance exam, my parents became concerned about me
getting too "American" and losing my identity as a Japanese.
Naturally, they persuaded me to take the exam for foreign
returnees, and I accepted this offer to take the test and see
this country my parents loved. I thought education was the same
all over the world. I still cannot believe I had such a
misunderstanding. I must state strongly that my obedience and
lack of knowledge was the beginning cause of the curse I still
carry until now.
After passing the entrance exam of an international high
school in Kyoto that is quite famous, I had no choice but to
place myself in the school dormitory. This dorm, which was
practically my first reacquaintance with Japan, was one of the
worst places I have ever lived. First, I had no privacy at all.
People read my letters and letters from the States as well. Then,
I had the problem of adjusting myself with the Japanese style of
teaching that requires the students to be completely silent and
obedient. Those things, though, were manageable. I had time, and
I was not the only one having trouble. The one thing I could not
stand was the relationship with the "Sen-pai" or
upperclassmen.
In the dormitory, the Sen-pais were the nearest thing to God,
considering how the freshmen were treated. We, freshmen, were
obliged to massage them, go buy things for them, and sometimes
even wash their clothes, not to speak of watching our mouths for
impolite ways of speaking and other small rules. (For
example, we had to stop and give the Sen-pai a light bow whenever
we saw a Sen-pai at school.) Although these were not written or
ever spoken to us, we had to learn them by heart or we would be
"taught," or in other words, beaten, by the Sen-pais. This
beating or lynching was often done in a dark room where the
freshmen could not tell who had done what. I can still remember
the unspeakable fear of being called to a Sen-pai room for not
paying respect to them one day at school.
I took this until June, and then the day came. I just could
not take it any more, so I talked the problem over with one of my
teachers. Unfortunately, this meeting was soon to be known to all
by this teacher's warning to the Sen-pais. After 6pm that day,
the ceremony of revenge, I was in deep anger. Anger toward this
country which treated me like a stranger, my teacher who never
did consider my safety, the mindless dorm master who did not even
admit the existence of such problem, the Sen-pais and especially
toward myself who made the decision to enter this high school in
the first place were there in a mixture. To ease this, it was
obvious that I had to quit this school which was not
international at all. Though it was clear what I must do, I just
could not go up to the office and fill out that application form
to quit school. I had friends and probably would have had an easy
future in entering the university there. Besides, the record of
changing schools would never look good. I must say that I've
never thought one piece of paper could make one suffer so much,
especially a fifteen- year-old. The only thing that made me
decide was my father's advice and the support of the rest of my
family.
After this incident, I moved to Nagoya and spent a peaceful
high school life there. Compared to my dark ages in hatred, I
feet stronger and confident with Japanese traditions now. I have
learned to see both the good sides and bad sides of Japan, so I
would not hate the country as I once did. Even so, I still cannot
forget the last words of the dorm master who said to me, "You
should leave Japan if you can't take the traditions." I can only
say a few words to him; "We'll see about that." Like he said, I
may not accept some of Japan's traditions, but there is one thing
that keeps me from leaving. That is the fact that I love this
country. I love the people who never stop to amaze me. I love the
four seasons and the culture made just to fit this wilderness.
For all this, I shall do whatever I can to make Japan a better
place for even foreign returnees. To do this, I will fight and
probably lose many times. It will hurt and be humiliated
sometimes, but I have no regret. This is the way I have decided
to live and probably the way I will go on. In life, to be or not
to be is not a very big question. To be and how to be is the real
question to answer. Through the decision I made four years ago, I
feel like I have found the key to answering this question.
by Masatoshi Takeuchi
