Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Interview with TOMO Contributor Sako Ikegami

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Sako Ikegami (translator of the Tomo story “Hachiro” by Ryusuke Saito) Sako Ikegami can lay claim to various titles (clinical pharmacist, medical translator/writer, children’s book reader), but best enjoys working with YA books. She aspires to bridge her two cultures, American and Japanese, by translating children’s literature in both. Her translations include Ryusuke Saito’s The Tree of Courage and Angela Johnson’s First Part Last into English. Visit her website: www.sakotrans.com

Can you tell us a bit about your own background and your relationship with Japan and the U.S.?

Sako Ikegami with her mother in Hawaii en route to New York
Back in the mid-1960s, I was the four-year-old excess baggage that tagged along when my dad, a corporate samurai, was transferred to the Manhattan office to attempt to addict Americans to Japan's electric products. By the time we returned to Japan eleven years later, I had grown up illiterate in Japanese, so English is my native tongue.  Trying to transition into a Japanese high school student was a disaster. My mom got called into school almost every single day.

"Sako came to school wearing a coat! Is there something wrong with her health? Maybe she should try kanpu-masatsu (stripping down and scrubbing one's body with a dry rough towel)."  "Sako was seen walking home with a boy after school!" (Old Japanese adage: Never allow boys and girls in the same room beyond the age of seven. And they wonder about our dwindling population.)

At fifteen, I didn't fit in with the other Japanese teens. Even today, I remain an anomaly in a culture where conformity and blending in are paramount. But there are perks. Being Japanese, but not quite, gives me both an insider's and outsider's view of this country. Translating YA and children's books is my way of making up for missing out on my Japanese heritage while growing up. Hopefully, I can help introduce new readers to the things about Japan that I have learned to love and respect.

“Hachiro” is an Akita tall tale, originally told in Akita dialect. Can you discuss some of the challenges presented by this dialect during the translation process?
Hachiro by Ryusuke Saito, illustrated by Jiro Takidaira (C) Fukuinkan-shoten
The original language is almost musical, involving repetition and onomatopoeia in the delicious cadence of the Akita dialect. I churned out various renditions, trying to get it into readable English, and even tried American dialects, but nothing really clicked. Finally, I asked for help from a senpai (a more experienced mentor or upperclassman), Tomo contributor Deborah Davidson, who has worked extensively with the Ainu yukar, and she had some great advice. Some of the expressions were also difficult to understand, but reading the Japanese repeatedly out loud helped to solve the mystery language. Limited by time and talent, I finally had to give up on a truly faithful reproduction of the dialect, but I hope at least a hint of Saito's flavor comes through intact.

Can you tell us a bit about Ryusuke Saito and his works?

Ryusuke Saito (photo courtesy of Kodomo to gakuryoku)
Ryusuke Saito was a young reporter working for a newspaper in Akita when he wrote this story in 1950. It was initially published in the Akita Newspaper for middle school students. Although he was from Tokyo, he loved the Tohoku region and its people, and many of his most famous tales are situated in this part of Japan. Saito specialized in short stories that sounded like ancient folklore, but were in fact, originally crafted tales. Together with his collaborative partner, kirie artist Jiro Takidaira, he created a series of beautifully illustrated books that have become children's classics. Like Hachiro, many of the stories focus on the beauty of self-sacrifice for the greater good, which some may find a little didactic for modern tastes. Many of these stories were written in the immediate post-WWII period when Japan was undergoing drastic changes in culture and ideology. These two creators felt it was important that the youths of "new" Japan retain those traditional values that have always been treasured here.

What we've witnessed over this past year proves those values are still intact in the people of Tohoku and reassure us that Japan will pull through in spite of the huge losses it's suffered.

You have lived in the U.S. and Japan, and have actually translated fiction in both directions, J-E and E-J. Which direction of translation do you prefer? What challenges do you encounter in both?

Like most translators, I prefer working into my stronger language, English. Also, so very little of Japanese YA literature has been translated and ii's about time that changed. Japan is not just about manga and anime. Unfortunately though, translated books rarely do well in the English language market. While huge numbers of children's books are translated into Japanese from English and lots of other languages every year in Japan, it just doesn't happen in the opposite direction. Talk about trade imbalance!  But even here with one of the highest literacy rates in the world, we have trouble getting our teens to read, and publishers struggle to keep even the most outstanding books in print.

The great thing about translated books is that you get an authentic look into a completely different culture without having to learn the language! So next time you're in the bookstore or library, take a chance. Pick up one of those books that has “translated by...” on the cover, and prepare to enter unfamiliar territory.

Hachiro Lake was the second largest lake in Japan. It was a shallow, brackish water lake, but it has been mostly landfilled for agricultural purposes beginning in the 1950s. Perhaps we need to write a sequel to the story! This folktale seems even more important as a memory of the unfilled Hachiro Lake. What do you think the author would say today? What do you think Hachiro would do?

The sad fate of Hachiro Lake has much to do with a post-WWII Japan rushing to get back on its feet and started in creating a thriving rice industry for its starving population. Unfortunately, back then, they didn't understand the risks of changing an ecosystem or foresee that westernization of Japan would lead to a decrease in rice consumption. Arable land has always been in short supply in Japan and communities needed a way to increase their income. “Hachiro” was written at a time when they were still arguing back and forth on the merits and demerits of landfill. If his thoughts were with the local people, it is possible Saito believed that sacrificing part of Hachiro Lake was a sad but acceptable choice. Perhaps a sequel could have an ecological slant where Hachiro would return the lake to its former glory.

Hachiro Lake's name originates from a series of pourquoi stories that explains how the three great lakes of Tohoku came into being. Perhaps we can tell those stories here at a later time.

Do you have any message for teens in Tohoku?

When I visited Miyagi and Iwate twenty years ago, my first impression was that here, finally, was the Japan that my mom had always taught me to be proud of while I was growing up in the U.S. The old folktales passed from generation to generation by your kataribe storytellers speak of the contentious yet loving relationship that you have always had with nature. It doesn't seem fair that your land has been the target of so much destruction throughout history. But adversity comes only to those strong enough to conquer it. Nourished by the rice and fish so abundant in your beautiful region, Tohoku represents the foundation upon whic

Friday, March 9, 2012

Interview with TOMO Contributor Yuichi Kimura


Yuichi Kimura
Yuichi Kimura 木村裕一 (author of the Tomo story “Wings on the Wind” translated by Alexander O. Smith) was born in Tokyo, graduated from Tama Art University and worked on children’s magazines and TV programs before turning to writing. His picture book series Arashi no Yoru ni (On a Stormy Night) has won multiple book awards. With a bibliography comprising over 500 titles for children of all ages, his creations are enjoyed around the world. Visit his website: www.kimura-yuuichi.com

This story was originally written after 9/11. Can you tell us about that process? 
この物語は同時多発テロがあった、9.11の後で書かれたものだと伺っています。その辺のお話をおきかせいただけますか?

This book was created to commemorate the first anniversary of 9.11. The theme was to be "Life," and how precious it is. If we had made it about 9.11, that would have been too specific, too limiting to issues of terrorism and such. I tried to take a broader perspective on the theme, especially since I don't really care for so-called "message books".  If the essential parts of life, of human existence, is reflected in the story, then the story would naturally be connected to the theme of "Life."  Of course it's related to 9.11, but it's not limited to 9.11.

9月11日の一周年にむけて、テーマを「命」、つまり命の大切さを感じるような物語を、という設定で書きました。ただ、9.11とか、テロなどに対する具体的なものを書くとなると、本のテーマがそれだけに限られるので、もっと広い意味でそのテーマを受けとり、「命」について書くことにしました。基本的にメッセージ本というものを好まないのでね。メッセージを伝えるためだけに、本があるわけではないと思います。テーマにぴったりと合わせようということではなく、人生の本質的なものがその物語に入っていれば、「命」というテーマに本質的につながるだろうという考え方の元で書きました。9.11でもあるけれど、9.11だけには限らないです。

I have met tsunami survivors who felt guilty about those they couldn’t save, and I see this story in part as a post 3/11 parable. Do you think this is apt? Do you think the story can be interpreted in other ways? 東北へボランティア活動で行った際に)救えなかった人々がいたことに対して罪悪感を抱えている津波の生存者に逢う機会がございました。『風切る翼』はある意味、3月11日の震災後に因んだたとえ話にも思えます。これは適切な捉え方でしょうか。あるいは、もっと違った捉え方の方がよろしいでしょうか。

All of my books are written in the hope that the reader will come away at the end feeling glad to have been born, and happy to be alive. The earthquake and tsunami were a tragic event. But in the 4.5 billion years since the Earth was born, there have been countless volcanoes and earthquakes and tsunamis. This time, the tsunami happened to hit in heavily populated areas which led to this terrible tragedy.

People do feel guilty when a loved one cannot be saved. When someone they love passes away, we feel responsible, strange as it sounds. It's because we can never undo the leaving. You didn't actually have a hand in creating victims, but you feel as if you've committed a crime. When my mother passed away, when my dog died, I was sure it was all my fault. Of course later on, I realized that wasn't true, but because you can never bring them back, you felt as guilty as if it had been. It's a terribly complicated issue, and I don't really have the words, but when something terrible, something irreversible, something that you wish had never happened occurs, we tend to blame ourselves. As for how "Wings on the Wind" relates to that issue, that's another difficult topic. What I hope is that those who read this story will come away with a sense of hope.

私の本はすべて、最後には「この世に生まれてきてよかったな」とか、「生きていることがすばらしい」と思えるような作品を目指して書いています。

確かに津波は最悪のことでした。しかし、地球という星ができてからの四十億年の歴史の中で、火山が噴火したり、地震がきたり、津波がおこったりというのは、今までにも限りなく繰り返されてきたことです。今回は、不運にも人類が住んでいるところに被害が及んで大惨事につながったということです。

大切な人たちを救えなかったことに対して罪悪感をもつ気もちはわかります。誰かが亡くなると、みんな罪悪感を感じるものです。不思議なんですけどね。なぜかというと、取り返しがつかないから。その人自身が手をくだして被害者がでたわけではないのに、罪を感じるのですよ。母が亡くなった時も、犬が死んだ時も、私は「オレのせいだ」と思いました。後から考えればそんなことはないのですが、やはり取り返しのつかないことが起こった時には、みんな自分を責めるんですよね。人はそうならないで欲しかったことが起こった時にそう感じるのでしょう。うまく答えられませんが。『風切る翼』とどういう風にかかわってくるかも非常に難しい問題です。私としては、この物語を読んだ人が生きる勇気をもってくれたらうれしいです。

Your writing often involves animals in human-like interactions. Can you describe your motives or inspiration?
先生の物語には動物同士が人間と同じようなかかわり合いをもっている場面が多く登場しますよね。作品づくりの動機やインスピレーションになっているものがなにか、教えていただけますか。

The characters are written as animals, but they of course represent people. I use animals to depict a human drama. Perhaps because it's easier to express symbolic themes with a substitute. That way, not as much explanation is needed.

I'm inspired by all the things that happen in my daily life and I try to find ways to express those things symbolically. How marvelous human nature is, how great it is to have been given life. I treasure those things.  Humans are fascinating. And when you're alive, there's so much to experience. You'll get to enjoy those things and you'll realize how precious it all is. Hold on to that mentality, and you'll notice people and the things that make them so fascinating. This is what inspires me to write stories with animal characters.

動物として描いていますが、実は人間を書いているんですよね。動物に置き換えて人間のドラマを書いています。動物の方が象徴的に表現しやすいからでしょう。文章の説明も少なくすみますし。

何を象徴的に伝えたいかというインスピレーションの元は、日常生活の中にあります。人間の面白さだとか、この世に生まれてきてよかったとか、こういうものを大事にしようという思いです。人間はとても面白い。ずっと生きていると面白いことがある。面白いから生きている時間を大事にしよう。そういう考えをもっていると、日常生活にみる人間の面白さが浮かんできて、それをインスピレーションに動物の物語が生まれます。

The ending of "Wings on the Wind" feels like a real discovery. The reader doesn't see it coming, which makes its impact all the stronger. How do you discover how your stories will end?
『風切る翼』の結末には大きな発見があるように感じました。読者にとっても予想外の展開であり、それによりインパクトはさらに強められています。先生はいつもどのように物語の結末を見いだされるのでしょうか。

I don't think the ending was that unusual, but what I did struggle with in writing this tale, almost to the very end, was how Karara was going to approach Kururu. What she'd say, what attitude was most likely to get a response from him.

For example, say there's someone who can't go to school and remains cooped up at home. If his teacher comes to his house and says, "Why don't you come to school already?" that's not going to help the kid open up--the teacher approaching him from an authoritative position, with a top-down attitude.  He'll probably respond with, "You're clueless about how I really feel!"

So in order to really understand him, Karara had to be in the same position as Kururu. She needed to be committed. I didn't think Kururu was ready to hear anything Karara had to say. Ultimately, it would be about her level of commitment. It wouldn't be about choosing the right words or attitude. Kururu was beyond that. He'd just think, "You don't understand a thing about what I'm going through," and that would be it. So Karara needed to show that she was prepared to stay by his side to the very end.

That is the only way to get through to him. She really needed to go to those lengths to reach his heart and it was arriving at that solution that I found the hardest. So I decided to bring this scene to the very end of the story which led to that conclusion...

I guess I approached the problem by trying to figure out what someone could do to help a friend who couldn't leave his room, or was depressed or couldn't go to school.

結末自体はさほど意外な展開ではないと思うのですが、『風切る翼』を書く上で一番悩んだのは、カララが友だちのクルルに対して、どういう説得、どういう態度、どういう言葉をかけたらいいかでした。それが、最後までわからなかったのですね。例えば、不登校で学校に行けず、家にふさぎ込んでいる子どものところに担任の先生がやってきて「学校へ来いよ」と言っても、生徒は心を開かないはずです。なぜならば、同じところにいない人が上から目線で言っているので、子どもの方は「オレの気もち、お前わからずに言ってるだろ」という気もちになります。

だからもし本当にわかろうと思えば、カララが同じ立場になる覚悟をしないと、クルルには言葉が通じないかなと思いました。最後は「覚悟」かなと。つまり、言葉とか、態度とか、どういう行動をとればいいかという視点で考えると、何をいっても「あんたにオレの気もちがわかるかよ」と言われたら終わりなので、同じ覚悟をもたないとだめなのかなということでした。

そういうところから心が解けていく。それぐらいしないと無理だろうというところで一番悩みました。そしてラストにそれをもって行くことになり、あのような展開に……。

ある意味では、引きこもりとか、落ち込んでいるとか、不登校とか、まあいろんな状態になった人に対して、周りの人は一体何ができるのだろう、ということから考えました。
 
Do you have any message for teens in Tohoku? 最後に、東北で被災した十代の若者たちにメッセージがあれぱ、ぜひお聞かせくださいませ。

It's easy to say something that sounds profound or wise, but if someone says, "Try being me," I'll have no way to answer that.

So perhaps the best I can do is to share with you how I managed to survive the lowest point in my own life.  I hope my story will provide you with some hints on getting through those toughest times.

When your life is in the negative, when everything seems to be going against you, that's all you can see. All the time that you spend in that mode is negative.

So when you find yourself in the minus zone, reset everything to zero. Imagine you owe a billion dollars. There's no way you can pay that back no matter how hard you work, and your whole life will be spent in debt. But try to think of that billion dollar debt as your starting point, point zero. Then, if you manage to pay back even ten thousand dollars, it'll seem like you've made some great progress.

You don't want to waste all of your precious time focusing on the negative. Your time, the now, is what's important—don't squander it away on minuses. Change your point of view. Think of your lowest point as point zero. Start from there and you'll always be moving forward towards a positive future.

言葉でえらそうなことを言っても、逆に「同じ立場になってみろ」と言われたら何も言えなくなってしまうと思います。

私に言えるとしたら、私自身が自分の中で最悪の事態に落ち込んだ時、どうやってクリアしたかを話すことくらいです。私がどう考えたかということがみなさんのヒントになれば、と思うので、その時の気もちを話します。

マイナスな状態になっているときに、マイナスばかりをみていると、どこまで行っても「負」なんですよね。その時間がすでに。

だからマイナスを被った時は、その状態を「ゼロ」と考えることにする。例えば、十億円の借金があったら、一生かかっても返しきれないので、ずっとマイナスの人生じゃないですか。だけど、その十億円の借金がある状態をゼロ地点だと考えれば、100万円返したことが全部プラスのことに思える。

そのようにしていかないと、せっかくいま生きている時間を無駄にする。いま生きている時間が大事なので、それをマイナスにしてしまうのはもったいない。マイナスを被った地点をゼロと考え、そこからがスタートだと思うような発想の転換をすれば、生きている時間が負の状態から抜け出せるのではないかと思います。

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Interviews with TOMO Contributors Author Sachiko Kashiwaba and Translator Avery Fischer Udagawa

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Sachiko Kashiwaba (author the Tomo story “House of Trust”) is a prolific writer of children’s and young adult fantasy whose career spans more than three decades. Her works have garnered the prestigious Sankei Children’s Book Award and Shogakukan Children’s Book Award among many others, and her novel Kiri no muko no fushigi na machi (The Marvelous Village Veiled in Mist) influenced Hayao Miyazaki’s film Spirited Away. She lives in Iwate Prefecture.

Avery Fischer Udagawa (translator of the Tomo story “House of Trust” by Sachiko Kashiwaba) grew up in Kansas and lives with her bicultural (Japanese/American) family near Bangkok. Her translations from Japanese include the middle grade novel J-Boys: Kazuo’s World, Tokyo, 1965 by Shogo Oketani. Her writing has appeared in Kyoto Journal and Literary Mama. Visit her website: www.averyfischerudagawa.com

Interview with Author Sachiko Kashiwaba

Can you tell us a bit about where you live in Tohoku?
I live in Iwate Prefecture, a place known in the region as part of Kita Tohoku, or northern Tohoku. Iwate is Japan’s largest prefecture in terms of land area. The tsunami hit here along the coast, two hours by car from Morioka, the prefectural capital where I live. Iwate is two prefectures north of Fukushima Prefecture where the accidents occurred at the nuclear power plant.

Sachiko Kashiwaba
I was born in Iwate in the city of Hanamaki. This was also the home of a writer greatly my senior, Kenji Miyazawa (1896–1933).

You have visited schools in the tsunami-affected areas. What were your experiences or impressions?
I visited a grade school and a middle school that were hit by the tsunami. They were in a region where it was always said a tsunami would follow an earthquake, so the schools ran thorough evacuation drills. Nonetheless, one student died. That is how big this tsunami was. The students are still hurting there and will be for some time, and I think the day when they can laugh from their hearts will be long in coming. I hope for many counselors who can help them heal.

Can you tell us a bit about the inspiration for this story “House of Trust”?
This is a story from my book Mirakuru famirii (Miracle Family), which is a collection of stories that focus on fathers. In “House of Trust” I wanted to try writing about a dad who is not so good at navigating life, and a son who tries to understand him.

The story describes different styles of tying obis for kimonos. Do you sometimes wear kimono and have you yourself studied kimono dressing?
I did learn kimono dressing. I study the Japanese tea ceremony, so once a month for sure I wear kimono. Sometimes I wear kimono two or three times in a month.

Can you give us a bit of background on the yama no kami (mountain spirit) featured in the story?
In Japan, kami (spirits or gods) are said to be everywhere. There is even a kami of the restroom. Mountain kami (or yama no kami) are generally understood to be female. A long time ago, lots of mountains in Japan were closed to women, because it was said the yama no kami would grow jealous of them and cause accidents. This is why the mountain spirit in “House of Trust” insists that only a man can help prepare her for her marriage interview.

Can you tell us a bit about the setting for this story and Mount Takamori?
Mount Iwate (source: Iwate Prefecture Tourism site)
Mount Takamori in the story is modeled after Mount Iwate, the tallest mountain in my prefecture. One side of Mount Iwate slopes gradually just as Japan’s tallest mountain, Mount Fuji, slopes gently on all sides. So Mount Iwate is sometimes nicknamed Iwate Fuji or Iwate Part-Fuji.

Can you tell us a bit about what you are currently working on/your most recent book(s)?
I am working on a book called Kimyoji yokocho no natsu (The Summer of the Kimyo Temple Bystreet). It is the story of a girl who died dozens of years ago coming back to life, and a boy named Kazu who struggles to keep her alive.

A lot of people died in the tsunami last year. I know there are many survivors who wish they could bring someone back.

Do you have any message for teens in Tohoku?
I hope they will live each day to its fullest.

Interview with Translator Avery Fischer Udagawa

Tell us a bit about your background—how did you come to live in Bangkok and what is your connection to Japan?
Avery Fischer Udagawa
I studied Japanese in college in the U.S. and then in Japan for about three years afterward, and continue translating, writing, and editing related to Japan. My husband, a Japanese whom I met in college concert band, teaches music at a Bangkok international school.

Can you tell us how you came into translation? Did you undertake any particular study program to prepare yourself?
I first experimented with translation after college, while studying as a Fulbright Fellow at Nanzan University, Nagoya, and while attending the Inter-University Center for Japanese Language Studies, Yokohama. I later studied translation through the MA in Advanced Japanese Studies program of The University Of Sheffield. I have learned a great deal also through involvement in SWET, the Tokyo-based Society of Writers, Editors and Translators, and SCBWI Tokyo, the Tokyo chapter of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators. Networking, attending events, and doing projects with SWET and SCBWI members has helped me gain skills, sort out goals, and understand what it takes to become a professional.

What do you enjoy about the process of translating fiction?
Getting to read a good story many times very closely.

What drew you to this particular story by Sachiko Kashiwaba?
I enjoy how elements of folklore interweave with the realistic narrative, and how the theme of trust plays out both in the relationship between the father and son and in their interaction with an unusual woman.

Were there any particular challenges you encountered in translating this story?
One was introducing the woman’s potential identity as a yama no kami, a concept that requires explanation in English. Another was dealing with tense, as fiction in English tends to be told strictly in past tense or present tense, but the Japanese version of the story includes both past and present.

What do you particularly admire about Kashiwaba’s style of writing?
Its simplicity—no extraneous details. This simplicity was present even in Kashiwaba-san’s emails to me about the story.

You also write. Any plans to write YA? Any Japanese YA novels you hope to see in translation?
I write nonfiction essays about multicultural parenting and have no current plans to write YA fiction, but I enjoy reading and learning about YA. I would love to see the rest of the novels in the Moribito series by Nahoko Uehashi published in English. Currently the first two are available: Moribito: Guardian of the Spirit and Moribito: Guardian of the Darkness, both in Cathy Hirano’s translation.

Do you have any message for teens in Tohoku?
Your daily efforts to move forward inspire us all.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Interview with TOMO Contributor David Sulz

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David Sulz
David Sulz (translator of the Tomo epigraph “Be Not Defeated by the Rain” Ame ni mo makezu by Kenji Miyazawa) is a librarian at the University of Alberta. He spent four years in the nineties on the JET program in Miyagi (Sendai and Towa-cho) and tries to return often to visit the kindred spirits there who remain among his closest friends. Other translations include Jiro Nitta’s Phantom Immigrants (Mikkosen suian maru), Kenji Miyazawa’s “The Poison Powder Police Chief,” and song lyrics from Japanese friends’ CDs. Visit his website: www.ualberta.ca/~sulz. 

Tell us a bit about your first connections to Japan.
As a boy in British Columbia, Canada, my family had many Japanese-Canadian friends. They were all nissei or sansei (2nd or 3rd generation Canadian) so they were as Canadian as I, but our ancestry comes out in little ways so I learned a bit about Japan through them. In high school, we hosted a rugby team from Osaka-Kobe and then went there for two exciting weeks of rugby, homestays, and sightseeing. I was hooked on Japan. I studied some Japanese at university and visited Japan several times including 2 months in Tochigi Prefecture at a tree and flower nursery, a student conference in Tokyo, and a 3-month internship in Sendai. 

How did your strong connections to Miyagi Prefecture and Tohoku come about?
Those first three months in Sendai have had a huge influence on my life. One homestay family gave me a Japanese book with two maps inside the front cover: Miyagi prefecture and southeastern British Columbia (i.e. my home). Although I couldn’t read it at the time, I later discovered it was a historical novel about an entrepreneur and group of immigrants from Towa-cho in northern Miyagi who went to B.C. in the early 1900s (Mikkousen suian maru by Nitta Jiro). As I studied more Japanese and then lived in Sendai and Towa-cho for four years on the JET program, I worked on translating it bit by bit. I eventually finished translating it (with a lot of help, of course), self-published it as Phantom Immigrants, used it for an MA degree in history, and have had many opportunities to talk, write, and research more about it which, in turn, has introduced me to many interesting people related to the story.

What other connections to Tohoku are still special to you?
My former boss and now great friend, Kanichi Onodera, often says that Miyagi and Towa are my dai-ni-furusato (second hometown). It sounds a bit corny but he is right. I met so many kindred-spirits who really explode any stereotypes about salarymen or housewives. To name a few (and just one of their interesting attributes): Shimamura the edo-goma (traditional spinning top) maker, his son with the mountain cabin coffee shop, Hirose and Shibuya the singer-songwriters, Ino the volunteer hockey coach, Yano the graphic designer (Forest Farm), Oikawa the artist, Yong-cho the Korean restaurant owner, Sasaki the music producer and jazz bar owner, Ouchi the handmade soba noodle maker, and so many more who are now some of my longest lasting and best friends. I don’t get to visit often enough but any trip to Japan truly feels like a comfortable homecoming.

How did the earthquake and tsunami affect you?
We were so worried because the affected areas were so close to our friends. Actually, one week before the earthquake/tsunami, my wife and I had booked flights to Sendai for a visit two months from then. We were in constant communication with friends about whether to go. We didn’t want to be a burden but were strongly encouraged; it is important to renew and refresh strong friendships in tough times. I could say so much about the devastation and recovery we saw but it would take thousands of words. Suffice it to say, the grace and poise of most Japanese in times of tragedy is amazing; I sometimes wonder whether Miyazawa Kenji captured those aspects of Japanese character in ame ni mo makezu or if his poem had some influence in creating them.

Your translation of the poem "Ame ni mo makezu" became quite popular after 3/11. Can you explain why you think this poem and your translation have resonated with readers particular after the earthquake?
Sometime in the late 1990s, I came across the World of Kenji Miyazawa website and offered my “Be Not Defeated By the Rain” translation for posting. Nothing really happened for many years other than a few blog references and a pop song that used the title. Recently, this translation suddenly started spreading. I don’t think anyone really knows what makes something popular; many people want to know so they can create something popular but popularity is serendipitous and unexpected.

Perhaps it’s the expression of simplicity, caring, and perseverance which resonated with people were forced to reflect on the fragility of modern life. For example, many of our friends have said (in retrospect now they are safe) that the earthquake/tsunami was an important experience to remind them of all the little preparations they had started ignoring after many uneventful years and the many modern essentials absolutely reliant on cheap and abundant energy. It inspired them to increase their self-reliance even just a little bit so as not to be caught again.

Of course, this sentiment of the impermanence and fragility of life has deep roots in Japanese culture (e.g. cherry blossoms, samurai code) but this tragedy had a global reach. The world was amazed by the uniquely Japanese reaction to the tragedies, a reaction so unlike other cultures facing similar circumstances. There was no rioting, no looting, no wailing for help; instead there was patience, compassion, and resignation. I think a lot of people wanted to understand this and Miyazawa’s poem gave some insight to both Japanese and others.

I have no idea why this particular translation resonated with readers and would be interested in figuring out how “popular” it actually became. It seems to be popping up on more blogs but I have no proof of how many. Perhaps it is a function of the “google” world—when the original Japanese version became popular and people searched for an English translation, my version maybe appeared high in the results because of the World of Kenji website and an external link in Wikipedia. Then as more people used my translation in blogs and other forums, it appeared more often in internet searches, and so on in a self-perpetuating feedback loop.

I’d like to think the popularity had something to do with the particular form my translation ended up taking, and that, in turn, might be because I did not set out to “translate” this poem, per se.

When did you first encounter Miyazawa’s work? What are your favorite Miyazawa works?
Poem "Ame ni mo Makezu," by Kenji Miyazwa, a gift to David Sulz
To the best of my memory, a teacher colleague at Towa Junior High School (Kumagai-sensei, I think) visited Kenji World in Iwate prefecture in about 1995 and brought me a souvenir reprint of “Ame ni mo makezu” printed out like a scroll with an accompanying explanation of its background. I had never heard of Miyazawa and was so intrigued by his vague explanation of the poem’s meaning that I made him and other friends help me understand and translate it. Seeing that interest, another teacher gave me a copy of a short story called “Dokumomi no shocho san” which I translated and called “The Poison Powder Police Chief.” Strangely enough, those are the only two Miyazawa works I have read in detail; I am aware there are many others but, for whatever reason, have no familiarity with them. 

Can you give us some background about the poem Ame ni mo makezu, which you translated as “Be Not Defeated by the Rain” and how it was originally discovered? 
All I know about this is what that explanatory sheet included with the poem by the Miyazawa Kenji Memorial Society Foundation says (see the World of Kenji Miyazawa website). Briefly, it was found after his death in a notebook tucked into the lid of his favorite trunk amidst repetitive copying of a Buddhist chant reminding one of the importance of the Lotus Sutra.

Do you have any message for teens in Tohoku? 
If you are interested in translating or learning a foreign language, find something you really want to understand and try translating it. It takes a lot of effort to read and understand something in the first place so why not make the extra effort to translate it for yourself? As a bonus, if many years your language ability has diminished from lack of use, you’ll still understand what was so important and interesting. Besides, if you get the chance to share it, you might inspire someone.

Some people might think of Tohoku as inaka  (country, backward, old-fashioned) but it really is a special place. There are few places in the world so connected to the most modern world (by short journey or technology like the internet) yet so connected to nature, history, and tradition. There is nothing like a charcoal-heated kotatsu (heated coffee-table), walking through a rice paddy, seeing fireflies on a pitch-black night, having tea with a multi-generational family (kids to grandparents) sharing what Japan was and is, or going to an onsen (hot-spring bath) especially in the mountains (ahhh, I can just imagine it now…).

I hope you are courageous enough to try many things and go many places but also to take Miyazawa Kenji’s words to heart. His poem may seem simple and a bit boring but if you look closely, the man he wanted to become would require a lot of courage.


































Friday, March 2, 2012

Interview with TOMO Contributor Louise George Kittaka


Louise George Kittaka
Louise George Kittaka (author of the Tomo story “Just Wan-derful”) is a New Zealander living in Tokyo with her family and three cats. She is a freelance writer and editor for educational publishing, and also works with teens with special learning needs. She has co-authored two parenting books in Japanese about using English with young children. Visit her website: www.mamabaka.com

Tell us a bit about how you came to settle in Japan.
My decision to major in Japanese at university in New Zealand was the starting point! After my second year, I came to Japan on a working holiday during my summer vacation (mid-November to mid-February). I’d heard older students bragging about coming to teach English and earning enough money to pay for their next year’s tuition. However, I was only 18—and as the staff at the Working Holiday Center in Tokyo pointed out, I looked about 16. “Nobody is going to hire you to teach English,” they told me. They suggested a job as a waitress at an exclusive coffee shop in the heart of the Ginza, the Tokyo version of millionaire’s row. It turned out to be a lot of fun and my Japanese really improved. (I also loved eating my way through all the cakes offered free to the staff!)

I was a shy, quiet kid, but in Japan I made friends easily. For the first time in my life, people thought I was outgoing and fun. It was a welcome surprise to find that I could reinvent myself like this in Japan.

After graduation, I landed a job as manager’s assistant at a new Japanese-New Zealand joint venture company. Within a few short weeks, I found myself training at their head office in a provincial city in Western Japan. I was working 10 hours a day, six days a week in the office, which was common at the time. Moreover, the people in the area often used slang and dialect that my “standard” Japanese didn’t cover. Even so, it was all very exciting and I looked upon everything as a learning experience.

Louise, age 18, in Tokyo
I made friends with a group of other young foreigners in the city, and as Christmas rolled around, we rented out a restaurant for a party. I almost didn’t go, as a Japanese friend had invited me to a party at her café the same evening. However, her party was rather dull, so I decided to check out the foreigners’ party around the corner. Thank goodness I did! That’s where I met my Japanese husband. I was still only 20 but I fell head over heels in love and within 10 days we were engaged.

We had some opposition from his family: They thought it was too quick, I was too young—and too gaijin (non-Japanese). Six weeks after that, I had to return to work at the firm’s New Zealand office. But things have a way of working out. After a year of lots of letter writing and weekly phone calls (no email or Skype then!), and several visits back and forth, everyone realized we were serious. We had two weddings, one in New Zealand and one in Japan, and then I was launched on my new life back in Japan.

Have you or your family members had adventures with acting in Japan? Any funny moments to share?
About a year after getting married, I found myself on national TV in the final of a Japanese-speaking contest for gaijin. Someone at a talent agency in Tokyo saw this and asked me to sign up. One day they called me about a role as a foreign exchange student in a drama show. The part was a 17-year-old high school girl, but since I still looked young for my age, they thought I could pass for a teen. There was only one problem—I was five months pregnant with my first child at the time! Needless to say, I didn’t get that particular job.

When my son was 12, he and I appeared in a TV special called “Children Around the World” with nine other parent-child pairs. One segment was about “typical” school lunches. In a pre-interview, they asked us what kids eat for lunch in New Zealand, and my son told them about Vegemite sandwiches. New Zealand and Australian kids love Vegemite—a dark, savory spread that goes great with bread. However, if you’re not used to it, Vegemite can pack a real punch! On the show the kids were taken to a table with ten “typical school lunches” covered with lids. Labels told which country the lunch was from, but not the contents. When the lids were lifted up, the kid who got the New Zealand lunch looked very disappointed: It was just a Vegemite sandwich on thin, white bread, and rounded out with half an apple, peeled and cut into small pieces. In comparison, the Korean lunch had a variety of hot dishes, the Italian lunch was a hearty serving of pasta, and the American lunch was a nice looking hamburger. If the kid with the NZ school lunch thought it looked bad, it was even worse when she took a bite—that Vegemite!
Louise George Kittaka and her son on the NHK set for a TV program on which they regularly appeared
What other types of writing do you do?
Learning English is big business here. A lot of my work is for educational publishing companies, and has been featured in a wide variety of textbooks and English courses. Most is aimed at teenage students, but one of the most challenging things I have done recently was to help develop an English course for toddlers! For the last 12 years, I’ve also been writing for the Eiken, a national English exam that is given three times a year all over Japan.

When I have the time to develop an idea, I enjoy writing articles for English newspapers and magazines, and for some years I was a contributor for an English parenting magazine. I loved that, as I got to take my own kids out on fun outings and was paid to write about it! Finally, I’ve co-authored two parenting books in Japanese about using English with young kids.

My contribution to Tomo is my first published piece for a YA audience. I’d love to write more YA fiction!

Do you have any advice for bicultural teens?
I think it is important to feel comfortable in your own skin. I know this is something that each of my three kids has had to come to terms with. Although there are more bicultural kids here now, Japan is still very monocultural compared to many other countries.

In Japan, people usually tend to comment on the fact that my kids are “half” (i.e. have one non-Japanese parent), particularly since they all look more like me than their Japanese Dad. This can get tiresome, for example when some people seem to think they have to speak English to my kids, or act surprised that they can speak Japanese at all!

One thing I feel strongly about is that my kids are lucky to have two cultural heritages. Since they have mainly grown up in Japan and attended Japanese schools, their experiences have been the same as most kids their age in Japan. However, we have also celebrated Western holidays and take annual trips to New Zealand. I worked quite hard to help keep up their English, and taught them to read and write English when they were small.

Do you have any message for teens in Tohoku?
You guys have gone through something that is hard enough for adults to bear, let alone for young people with so much of life ahead. Most people will never know how it really feels to have lived through the earthquake, the tsunami and the aftermath. But people in Tohoku have picked up the threads of their lives again and communities are working to help each other. It might not be the same as before—and may never be again—but it shows the courage of the people of Tohoku. I pray that the teens of Tohoku will be able to pursue their goals for the future with the same spirit.