I
mentioned my super-amazing mother in my post yesterday, but my parents really
deserve a lot more type for all they have done to help make this adventure
possible. They have helped me pack,
prepare, organize, and fund this endeavor.
My mother worked her travel agent magic to get me a great deal on airfare
and help me shove the majority of the stuff I will need into one suitcase. My father offered words of advice and caution
to keep me grounded, sane, and reflective as I realized the significant disadvantage
my natural personality would be in Japanese culture. But more than anything, from the moment I was
born they taught me to take risks and follow my dreams – even if they seemed a
little crazy. After all, it is exactly what
they did forty years ago.
In
the fall of 1973, my parents sold all of their belongings and moved to
Tokyo. My father was taking part in a
work exchange between the landscape architecture firm he had been with in Florida
and the Regional Planning Union in Tokyo.
They had one large suitcase (without wheels), no knowledge of the
Japanese language, and a desire to learn about the other side of the world. They were only there for nine months, but it
was a life altering experience.
Growing
up, I knew all of these things. However,
children are notoriously self-centered, so while I was aware my parents had
lived in a foreign country, it didn't really have a major impact on my pre-adolescent
life. It meant we went out for sushi
when other families went for pizza, the phrase, “eat your tofu,” was actually
uttered at our dining room table, and you would sometimes hear the clack, clack
of getas on the wooden floor if my sister and I got into the keepsake box, but
my parents never really talked about their time in Japan in a meaningful
way. Or if they did, my childhood self
didn’t pay too much attention. We were
never even forced to endure a slide show of their time and adventures there, so
I have, to this day, never seen photographic evidence of my parent’s life in Tokyo. In this way, Japan was always a part of my
life, but it was something woven into the background of my childhood.
Obviously,
things have changed a little now. When I
started to become interested in Japan, my parents were the first ones I turned
to. I raided the keepsake box for clues
and insight into Japanese culture. I
never got around to pulling out the slides, but I asked all kinds of questions
about the city, the people, and daily life in Japan. As with any endeavor I have ever attempted,
regardless of its practicality or sanity, my parents completely supported and
encouraged me. My mom shared her sumie practice
book with me. My father expounded on Japanese
sensibilities when it came to beauty, nature, and ramen. We connected over Japan and I was finally
able to appreciate the amazing insights and understanding my parents had found
there – insights and understanding they had been sharing with me my whole
life.
There
were many choices and personality traits that shaped my parents into amazing
people, but I think living in a foreign country really helped change their perspective
of the world. It helped them understand their
culture a little better as they learned about someone else’s. They were able to open up their mind to new
opportunities and new experiences. They
took risks and walked the tightrope of international relations with grace and an
honest desire to understand other human beings.
Eastern philosophy and aesthetics became a part of how they perceived the
world. And it taught them to enjoy
eating weird things like tofu and soup in summer.
All
of this influenced the way they raised my sister and me.
As
I mentioned in my very first post, I have always been incredibly lucky. Well most of that stems from the parents I lucked
into. Because of them I was never afraid
to take risks, try something new, or follow my own path. I learned to appreciate the simple beauty of
life and nature. I still haven’t
mastered being quiet, but I am able to understand the value of silence and reflection. I have a zest for life and learning and my
desire to truly understand another culture is a direct result of my upbringing. My parents taught me not just tolerance, but
respect and curiosity.
I
know I will never be able to thank them for all the amazing opportunities they have
helped bring about in my life. The only
way I can think to repay them is to continue on the path they have allowed me
to choose and become the best me I can be.
It is my turn to follow in their footsteps, to take my one suitcase
(plus shoulder bag, backpack, and box they are shipping to me), and deepen my
understanding of myself and the world. Through
their support and parenting they have already given me with a head start, but I
hope I can catch up to the people they became in the end.
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