After high school, I moved to Florida and enrolled in Palm Beach Junior College. One day I got a call from my aunt about a secretarial job with a Japanese securities firm in NY. It was a great opportunity, and I applied for and got the job. Before I knew it, I found myself living back in Massapequa Park and commuting to Manhattan to work at One World Trade Center.
My job was to calculate the daily transactions and record
them in a ledger by hand. It is amazing
to think that in those pre-computer days that is how things were done! Our tools were typewriters, calculators and
telex machines. Working for the Japanese
company was a fascinating experience for me.
I enjoyed the Japanese culture right away but since I had no prior
knowledge of the language, people or customs, many times things were “lost in
translation.”
I made a few friends and one of them, Noboru, a youngish
single guy who always seemed to be smiling or laughing, (later I found out that
the Japanese people typically laugh a lot when they are nervous) gave me a note that simply said: “Waldorf Astoria-Kitcho-8:00.” Intrigued by the cryptic note, I made sure to
be at Kitcho, the Japanese restaurant at the Waldorf Astoria, at the appointed
time. After waiting 45 minutes, I decided
to leave just as he arrived, out of breath and apologetic. It was the start of our romance and the
prelude to my move to Japan.
After a year of working together, Noboru was transferred
back to Tokyo and we were heartbroken to be separated. He wanted me to come to Japan but there were
so many challenges and obstacles to consider:
the language, customs, food, families and the fact that international
marriages were still a new concept in mono-racial Japan. Luckily, my neighbor Mr. Murphy, from Connecticut
Avenue in Massapequa Park, was working in Tokyo for a telecommunications
company and offered me a place to stay for a two week visit to Tokyo.
A long 16 hour flight later, I arrived in Tokyo, a city that
was a fascinating mixture of both old and new.
It was clear that I was a long way from home! For example, most public toilets in this very
modern city were seat-less, squatter toilets without toilet paper (never forget
to bring your own!), but love has a way of making things like that inconsequential,
and I decided that I was going to go
back home, quit my job and return to Japan to live.
My boss tried to talk me out of it because he feared that an
international marriage was not a good idea, and that Japanese culture would be
a difficult adjustment for me. My parents
were fretful but supportive of my decision.
Meanwhile, Noboru and I kept in touch through letters and many long
distance phone calls, and he assured me that his family was very supportive of
our relationship and couldn’t wait to meet me.
And so, I took a deep breath, gave my notice at the job, said goodbye to
Long Island and my family and flew to Japan.
In Tokyo, Noboru rented an apartment with a bath and shower—which was a very modern idea
in Tokyo at the time, and he was hopeful that I would like it. It was so small--there were just three tiny
rooms! We had no furniture, so we sat on
the floor, like typical Japanese, and ate off a box. I enthusiastically jumped into my new life in
Japan, and what an adventure lay before me:
I couldn’t read or speak the language or figure out the money and I made
many mistakes and took many wrong turns.
There were times when I thought I just couldn’t do it anymore, but every
time I thought I wouldn’t last another day, I would meet a nice person or have
a good experience, and so, I just continued to stay.
I got a job teaching English at a small school downtown, and
joined throngs of Tokyo commuters. Talk
about crowded trains! No space was the
norm and the trains were so crowded back then that conductors actually pushed
people into the trains! Nowadays we don’t see that as much since they have
staggered work schedules to avoid commuter nightmares. Having
a job really opened a lot of opportunities for me and helped me learn a lot
about the society and the ways of the people.
I also made my first friend in Japan—a woman named Ursula who was also a
transplanted New Yorker married to a Japanese man. We are still friends today.
Soon, Noboru and I decided to marry, so it was time for me
to meet the family. First we met his
Aunt and Uncle and their two children who lived in a tiny house in Tokyo. They welcomed me graciously and were
fascinated with my strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. They wondered if my blue eyes saw the world
differently than their brown ones did!
To prepare that evening’s dinner, they took me to the street market to
shop and I followed them like an eager puppy.
Every time I stopped to look at something interesting, they bought
it! Aunt Keiko was such a dear person
and she taught me how to cook Japanese food, deal with the local customs, and
so much more. Until her death last year,
Aunt Keiko was like a second mother to me.
The rest of Noboru’s family lived in Akita and we took an
overnight train to visit them. They were
tiny people who scurried around trying to make me comfortable. Although I had learned a few Japanese words,
their northern dialect is difficult for even other Japanese regions to
understand, but they smiled politely at my efforts. They, too, were in a kind of frenzy about my
hair and eyes and they wanted to know why I liked their son. Even though our communication was difficult,
they made it clear that they were happy that their son and I would marry. We returned to Tokyo to plan the wedding.
I wanted to be
married in a church and I learned about a Franciscan Chapel where the priest
spoke English. It was located in
Roppong, where I had stayed when I first visited Japan. They required Noboru to take some classes in
Catholicism before they would perform the ceremony, and so every Friday evening
we attended classes. Soon we were able
to pick a date and begin the plans for the wedding. My parents had a deli at the time, and so
they couldn’t come, but Mr. Murphy stood up for me. We invited everyone I knew (not many!) and
Noboru’s relatives, and his co-workers.
The ceremony was simple, I wore a white wedding dress and Noboru wore a
tuxedo and shoes borrowed from his brother!
I will always remember that I spent most of the time saying, “Nice to
meet you,” because there were so many people that I was meeting for the first
time. There wasn’t any dancing—just
speeches by invited guests—most of whom I didn’t know. It was an experience and introduction into
another part of Japanese culture.
Soon, living in Japan became a lot of fun for me. I got a new job working at Berlitz and was
able to take Japanese lessons during my free periods. It is amazing the difference it makes when you
know the language! Being able to
communicate meant that I could take a bus or taxi or ask what something
was. It opened everything up for me!
About two years later, Noboru got transferred to Osaka, a
bustling, merchant town known for its own dialect and culture. I was able to transfer to a Berlitz school in
Osaka, and I will always remember Osaka fondly, as the place where I learned to
drive, we bought our first condo, and where our children were born. It was a good place with good people who made
me feel at home.
Having children is a challenge anywhere in the world, but in
Japan it was very interesting. The
custom in Japan is for the mother to stay in the hospital for a week with
complete care and doting. I learned that
it stems from the days when women worked the rice paddies and it was the only
time off they could take. It was great
the first time when my son, Yusuke was born, but when my daughter, Emi, was
born, I asked to go home after just a few days.
They didn’t understand, but they allowed me to go. The Japanese are very tolerant of children
and since our children were bi-cultural, they were loved by everyone. I was a stay-at-home mom in our new
condominium complex, with many new young families just like ours. I made some good friends with playmates for
our son. Soon after Emi was born, we got
the news that Noboru would be transferred to NY. Moving again!
Noboru would be working on the 86th floor of the World Trade Center, and we would be living in Bergen County, NJ.
.................stay tuned for Part Two coming next week!...............
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