Raymond Nakamura

Raymond Nakamura vive en Vancouver, Columbia Británica en Canadá.  Cuando no funge de asistente personal de su hija, él escribe poesía vogona, dibuja caricaturas rechazadas por la revista New Yorker y da tours de la calle Powell, la comunidad japonesa en donde su madre creció antes de la Segunda Guerra. Él tiene un poema que trata sobre ser un arquero de hockey en hielo que aparece en una antología de poesía de deportes para niños llamada And the Crowd Goes Wildwww.raymondsbrain.com

Última actualización en octubre de 2012

identity en ja es pt

Crónicas Nikkei #4 — La Familia Nikkei: Memorias, Tradiciones, y Valores

George Nakamura cumple ochenta y ocho años

Mi papá cumplió ochenta y ocho años de edad este año, así es que le hicimos una gran fiesta. Quizás el cumplir ochenta y ocho no es tan raro como lo fue alguna vez, pero aún es un asunto importante, especialmente dentro de la cultura japonesa, en donde es llamado «beiju», lo cual significa «edad de arroz». Esto se refiere a la manera en que los caracteres para el «ochenta y ocho» se parecen al carácter para el «arroz», un símbolo de bondad y abundancia. Estábamos encantados de que aún gozara de ...

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Crónicas Nikkei #7 — Raíces Nikkei: Indagando en Nuestra Herencia Cultural

My Bachan

We called my Dad’s mom, Bachan. When we visited, she’d offer me a cherry-flavoured cough candy, and I would nod and say, arigato. Every Easter, she sent me and my brothers a chocolate bunny each. She didn’t speak much English and I didn’t speak much Japanese. So I knew her only a little. She was 4’7”, vegetarian, and raised eight kids. She lived 91 years smoking roll-your-own cigarettes. I’ve since realized her life reflects many of the most significant events in Japanese Canadian history.

She was born Taki Kinoshita on February 8, 1889 to ...

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A Tale of Two Baa-chans

For better or worse, marriage can change your life. The arranged marriages of my Issei baa-chans (first arrived grandmothers) completely transformed theirs. Even though my grandmothers did not know each other, they shared experiences in common. Both were eldest daughters, born during the Meiji era of Japan, and immigrated to Canada as teenagers to marry older men they had never met.

Both of my baa-chans discovered life in Canada was not what they expected.

My father’s mother, my Nakamura baa-chan, was born Taki Kinoshita in 1889, the year a new constitution for the Empire of Japan was established under ...

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Not Made In Japan

Breaking Fast

Breakfasts
Were processed,
Warm and white.

Soup, often corn,
Always a powder,
Poured into a plastic bowl
That looked lacquered.

Added water, 
Boiled in an aluminum kettle 
On the rusting gas table. 

In the shiny red toaster oven,
Toasted a single piece of white bread, 
Soft and square and thick,
With tiny holes
Like styrofoam,
Something to do with Japanese flour. 

On top
Sat a single piece of white processed cheese 
Plasticized
At its melting point. 

In rural Japan,
Real cheese 
Was not a real option.

Sitting at my low table
Quickly break my fast.

Gulp.
Bite.
Chew.
Swallow.
Repeat.

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Not Made In Japan

Feeling Warm at Christmas

One Christmas...

My Mom sent me a turkey one Christmas. It was a frozen, smoked turkey. I invited a bunch of people to my place to eat it. I took out the middle sliding doors of my rooms, so I had a fair amount of space. The tricky thing was that the turkey was too big to fit in my microwave oven. Since it was smoked, I just had to figure out how to defrost it. I ended up using the electric heating element of my table for warming my feet, to warm the turkey. I sliced off bits as ...

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