Morikami Sukeji, who traveled to the United States as a member of the Yamato Colony in South Florida and remained there alone until the end of his life after the colony was disbanded, continued to write letters to his sister-in-law and her family, whose husband (Sukeji's younger brother) had died after the war. Now in his sixties, he often complained of poor health and became faint-hearted after hearing of the deaths of his compatriots, but he was always thinking about new endeavors, such as planting cherry trees.
* * * * *
"The son of an acquaintance of mine was killed in battle in Korea."
October 6, 1953
Mi-san, it hasn't rained for a long time today. It's been raining for a long time, and the fields, cities, and lowlands are covered in water. Just when we thought the sixth typhoon, Florence, had passed, the seventh storm appeared 250 miles southeast.
It is now exactly 12:15. The sky is cloudy and not a single star is visible. A cool breeze is blowing from the sea. The temperature is 78 degrees (about 26 degrees Celsius). It has become much cooler in Florida and the days are a little shorter. It gets dark around 7pm.
The October issue of King arrived yesterday. I cried at the article on Muntinlupa (note 1) . I am a sensitive person and I often cry at movies. I cried silently at the actual scene of the Japanese battleship sinking in the Battle of Guadalcanal. Not a single person applauded.
The day before yesterday, in the afternoon, there was a funeral for the son of an acquaintance of mine. His name was John, and he was 21 years old. He was killed on the battlefield in Korea. His father was killed in battle in the South Seas, and he was an only child raised by his mother after the war. He dropped out of school, volunteered to join the Marines, and was sent to the battlefield last summer.
Before the ceasefire, he was seriously injured in an enemy counterattack and died calling out to his mother. John was a quiet and gentle young man. On Saturdays, he often came to my farm and helped me by driving the tractor. "Tomorrow is the enemy of the cherry blossoms" (said to be the words of Shinran) - there is nothing more fleeting than human life. I have a slight stomachache, so I will excuse myself now.
(Note 1) King is a popular entertainment magazine published by Dai Nippon Yubenkai Kodansha (now Kodansha). Muntinlupa City is a city on the island of Luzon in the Republic of the Philippines. After the war, General Tomoyuki Yamashita and 17 other people executed for war crimes were buried there. It is also the location of the war criminals camp known for the hit song "Aa Muntinlupa no Yoru wa Sarakete" by Hamako Watanabe.
December 1953
Dear Mi-san, I moved to the suburbs. My three cats are all healthy. Maybe it's because of their age, but they get all fuzzy when it's a little cold. They are 5 and 3 years old. My only comfort is the radio and reading books. Letters and newspapers are delivered to the nearby road, so I only go to town once or twice a week, and sometimes I don't see anyone for three or four days.
I eat when I'm hungry, I sleep when I'm tired, so there's no distinction between day and night. Those who believe in God and live by faith are happy. I don't find myself miserable and I don't envy them. I think this is probably the final message of the year. A new year full of hope and forgetting the past is near...
Let's plant cherry trees
March 4, 1954
Thank you for your letter, Mi-san. As you can imagine, I am suffering from a cold. Sometimes I get that splitting headache and cough that makes me cough up blood. Even when I rest, I have almost no appetite, and nothing I eat tastes good. At times like this, I miss Japanese food. I can't forget the taste of ochazuke.
South American countries are welcoming Japanese immigrants. Why don't they send more sons and daughters? Even if they don't eat Japanese rice, it would be for the good of the country. Are today's Japanese youth timid? I've gone off on a tangent.
It's already March this year, but there are no cherry trees. I would like to plant some here while I still have some.
April 15, 1954
Thank you for your letter, Mi-san. I'm still the same. My cough has finally stopped, but I'm still suffering from headaches and phlegm. I moved to town this morning. Same place as last year. Next Sunday is Easter. Florida has gotten pretty hot. It's about 85 degrees in the shade during the day, but the cool breeze coming in from the ocean makes it a little more bearable.
I arrived here 47 years ago this month. What was once a small village is now one of the best winter resorts in the United States. Japanese Issei of the same age as me die almost every day. I have made a fresh start. When times are tough, don't look up. You should also look down. Let's not be too pessimistic about each other's futures and do our best.
postscript
It's been almost four years since I last saw you, and I've honestly confessed many things to you, despite my shame. I don't know to what extent you believed me, though...
My thoughts about the future have changed a little recently. I am already 67 years old. I miss my hometown. However, it is dangerous to return to my hometown in the current situation. It is becoming easier and easier to emigrate to the United States.
"I want to study how to raise edible frogs and chickens."
April 20, 1954
Dear Mi-san, I think it's because the weather has gotten much warmer, but my health has almost recovered. I can't play every day, so I'm going to study how to raise edible frogs and chickens. I'd like to have a book on how to raise them in Japan.
Please ask at your local agricultural school for the latest edition, which is not too academic. I will send it to you as soon as I receive the payment. There are good English books and bulletins here, but I think the Japanese ones are a step ahead. Also, please give me a copy of a map of Kyoto Prefecture. Have you been to Miyazu lately? I heard that it will incorporate the surrounding towns and villages to become a city, and even change its name. Thanks to that, Masahira (my brother) is doing very well in business. At present, 70 houses are being built, according to Akihira (my brother-in-law). As usual, I haven't heard anything from Masahira.
Ms. Mi, what do you think of young people in Japan these days? They seem to be full of quibbles and have no spirit. I envy the spirit of young people in Germany, a country that also lost the war. I saw two sons of a Japanese acquaintance of mine. They are content with their low salaries and want to get married quickly. I was surprised that they have no pioneering spirit of going abroad and carving out their own destiny.
Adventurous blood runs in the Morikami family, and I wish I had at least two or three sons. When I think of the great forests of South America, I am overcome with emotion. This is the only thing I regret. The other day, I unexpectedly came across a photo I took when I first went to America, looking at those spirited eyes. I was so excited to remember those days.
I can't sleep so I decided to write this letter. It is now exactly 1:30 in the morning. I plan to sow about 1 tanbo of peanuts tomorrow, so I will stop here. I am getting a little sleepy. The temperature inside is 71 degrees (about 22 degrees Celsius), and I can hear the sound of light rain hitting the mango leaves. The temperature during the day is around 80 degrees (about 27 degrees Celsius), and there are no mosquitoes or flies. Please take care of the book.
postscript
I have lots of newspaper and magazine clippings that I'd like you to read, so I will send them to you shortly.
<Please send me wild cherry tree seeds as soon as possible.>
April 30, 1954
Mi-san, I forgot to ask you in my last letter. I would like you to send me one or two thousand wild cherry blossom seeds as soon as possible. They may not grow in Florida, a country without mountains and with a different climate, but I would like to try growing them just to be sure. They grow beautifully in the north. Also, please send me some Japanese maples. Please ask that seed shop in Kyoto (I forgot the name). I will send the cost together with the book.
Mi-san, I'm fine now. I'm working a little bit every day. I slept well for two nights, my appetite has improved, and I've gained a little weight. For now, I'll just do urgent business.
June 12, 1954
Mi-san, even though I'm not that busy, the days are passing by so quickly that I can't afford to be careless. This summer has been particularly hot, with the average temperature recently reaching 95 degrees (35 degrees Celsius) and 75 degrees (24 degrees Celsius) at night. However, as long as there is a breeze, it's not painful at all.
For some reason, there are a lot of flies, which is annoying. I plow the fields with a tractor. I work four or five hours a day, and sometimes at night. On clear, moonlit nights, my thoughts always wander back to my hometown, and I lose track of time.
Because the soil is sandy, after two or three years, the water melons become thin and become useless. This year, the cold weather caused a poor harvest, and the first ones were 5 cents per pound. I bought a slice this morning for 25 cents and ate it by myself, then chopped up the skin and salted it. If the weather is good, they can be grown all year round, but the ones grown around New Year's aren't as tasty as the ones grown in the summer.
Last winter, due to the cold weather, there was nothing locally produced, and only a little came in from Cuba and South America. The price is about 10 cents a pound, and the country is in a state of war due to the Korean War. Food prices will also be frozen soon. Meat will be the most affected, and I think that the supply shortage will lead to active black market trading again.
Compared to me, who can live with just rice and soy sauce, Americans who cannot live without meat are completely miserable. I've been playing for a month, so I've gained 5 pounds and am now 125 pounds. I've written a lot of pointless things. I'll stop here for today.
No reply from home
July 9, 1954
Although it was unavoidable, I gave up on returning to Japan, but now I feel rather... At one point I was very hesitant. I miss my hometown. The mountains and rivers are the same as they were in the past, but people are not the same (note 2) . Even my physical brothers and sisters are like strangers to me. This is even more so for other people. I sent New Year's cards and Christmas cards once a year. I also sent magazines. But there was no response. In the past year, in preparation for my return to Japan, I have been investigating the Miyazu region, so I have sent letters to a few influential people, but I have not received any replies. Now I don't even feel like reading the Hashidate Shimbun, which is sent to me once a month.
I recently got to know a person who runs a farm 25 miles south of here. He is a second-generation Japanese born in California, and his wife is also a second-generation Japanese. They were educated in Japan and returned to the U.S. after the war. His father is a doctor and is currently working at a medical university in Tokyo.
Both of them were quite fluent in Japanese, and while we were talking in English, we started speaking Japanese without realizing it. Thanks to them, my Japanese has improved a lot. Recently, I stopped by on my way to Miami and they were very happy. They told me to come and hang out for a couple of days, so I ended up spending two days with them.
For the first time in 50 years, I forgot about the bad stomach effects of eating Japanese fish cake, bamboo shoots, dried seaweed, pickled radish, pickled plums, ginger, miso, etc. I was able to get a lot of Japanese food at a low price because my brothers live in Chicago.
I have a four-year-old daughter with big, round eyes who is quite playful and calls me Uncle George.
It's pretty calm here, but we're in storm season, so we can't let our guard down until November. A second generation Japanese who runs a flower shop in our city suggested that I try growing flowers, so I'm getting ready. I'm doing research by reading books, ordering newsletters, and going to the library.
My mother (a white woman) is good at flower growing, so she is going to help me. This year, we will do it on a very small scale for research purposes, so if there are prospects, we plan to expand it for a while. We have decided to hold off on the edible frogs until we have enough capital.
I have no worries because I have kind friends and neighbors who are closer than distant relatives.
It is 11pm now. It is hot and windless tonight. I am worried because one of my two cats has not come home for three days. At one time I had six cats, but one less, then two, and finally there are only two left. Both are males, so they have no successors. Just like me.
(Note 2) A famous poem from the "Selected Poems of the Tang Dynasty" in China. It is thought to use the phrase "People are not the same" from the poem "Year after year, flowers are similar, but people are different."
<The passionate feelings I had when I went to America come back to me>
September 1954
Thank you for your letter, Mi-san. There is nothing changed here. The recession in Japan was expected. We were carried away by the temporary boom caused by the Korean War, and forgot to take into account the situation of a defeated country. It was what we brought upon ourselves.
I have been thinking about how to invite you to America for a long time, but there is nothing we can do with the quota of only 200 people per year. More people who marry GIs can come to America without any restrictions. The number has already exceeded 13,000, and I have no idea how much it will increase in the future.
Every day, first generation Americans die. Sooner or later, my turn will come. There are some people in this world who have a hard time dying. There are some irresponsible people who suffer for a long time, get help from others, and don't even have money for a funeral. If possible, I would like to die peacefully in my sleep and never wake up.
I have made sufficient preparations for the worst case scenario regarding my inheritance. When I think about it, the 50 years of struggle are just a fleeting dream. I am no different from a bug. The only thing that is lacking is that my old body and my communication with others have become like that of a stranger. I would be reassured if at least Yoneji (my youngest brother) were still alive.
Whenever I think of my hometown, I can picture in my mind the cedar and cypress trees I planted there, growing big and splendid. I would like to return to Japan once. Last year, I even drew a map of these trees and asked them to take a photo, even if it was just a stump, and send it to me, but I have not received any reply.
It's only about an hour away from my house (my parents' house in Miyazu). I've digressed. Just an old man's complaint.
At one time I was up to 140 pounds, but recently I've lost about 10 pounds. I've been doing a little flower growing, but it's not going as well as I'd hoped. I'm busy weeding.
If I push myself too hard, my whole body hurts and I can't do anything the next day. The Issei people gave me rare Japanese things like pickled plums, soy sauce, pickled ginger, and tsukudani. They all spoke Japanese quite well, and the daughters called me "Grandpa," which felt a little strange.
(Titles omitted)
© 2019 Ryusuke Kawai
