Morikami Sukeji, who traveled to America 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, continues to write letters to his sister-in-law and her family, who lost her husband (Sukeji's younger brother) after the war. His recollections of his hometown and the past continue to grow. Shortly after arriving in America, he tells his niece how disappointed he was when he was informed that the woman he had first fallen in love with in his hometown had gotten married. He also learns that a friend from his hometown who had traveled to Florida had died in a train accident. Sukeji almost got caught up in this accident.
* * * * *
The woman I loved is gone forever.
March 27, 1962
"While in Japan, Sukeji fell in love with a younger woman who lived nearby and proposed marriage to her. Unfortunately, her parents opposed the marriage. This unrequited love was also a major reason why Sukeji went to America."
Aki-chan (niece),
(Omitted) 56 years ago, in this month, I was in Kyoto while waiting for a boat. I didn't have much time, so I only passed through Kyogoku once. At the end of Kyogoku, there was a sweet potato shop. For three sen, I was able to buy a big paper bag full of them. I stayed there for about a month, but spent most of it at second-hand bookstores.
I went to Arashiyama once, but the cherry blossoms had already fallen. Women were washing vegetables nearby. Rubber boots were not invented at that time. I heard that if I could endure for three years in America, I could easily bring back about 1,000 yen, so I decided to go to America.
I came here on a contract to work for three years to pay back my travel expenses of 300 yen (US$150). I paid off my debt by living like a slave for three years, but I didn't have enough money to pay for my return trip, let alone 1,000 yen. The summers at that time were so hot that nothing I planted grew. There was no work, so I had no choice but to go fishing or live on my back.
Even if you play, you have to eat. I put an ad in the newspaper and found a job cutting firewood about 180 miles north. I lived alone in a hut about 10 miles deep in the mountains and worked hard, but my daily income was only about a dollar. Then I received a letter from the country. It told me that Hatsuko had gotten married.
My beloved Hatsuko has left me forever. I was stunned and could do nothing but cry. I gave up on returning to Japan and lost contact with my hometown. Since then, for more than fifty years, Hatsuko has constantly appeared in my dreams. I was back in Japan the other night. As I was sleeping soundly in a hotel room, I heard the voices of two people, who sounded like mother and daughter, talking in the club room next door.
I listened carefully. The girl's voice was unmistakably Hatsuko's. In that moment, I was taken aback, and my dream was cruelly shattered. Hatsuko was already an old woman in her 70s.
In my dreams, she is always a pretty girl. She is currently in Kyoto. She said she never received the letter I sent her through her mother. Should I just let it be a beautiful dream and keep it in my heart? Or should I go back and meet her? I can't make up my mind. What would I do if it was Akiko?
A few hours of reading every night
July 9, 1962
Thank you for your quick reply, Akira-san. I've lost weight, but I'm not sick. My appetite is good, and I sleep well, both day and night, but I haven't had many dreams lately, so I feel unsatisfied. A few days ago, I took a nap for the first time in a while, and dreamed about my hometown before I went to the United States. The doctor said that I'm fine, but that I should take it easy for a while.
Even if I read for a few hours every night, my eyesight doesn't deteriorate at all. I don't get headaches and my bowel movements are good. I go to the fields every day, but because it's hot I don't do much. I just planted some watermelon and melon seeds. Even if I get sick, I don't have to worry. I have kind neighbors, a big hospital is only 10 minutes away, and my best friend's wife, a former nurse, lives nearby.
Maybe because I don't speak any Japanese, it's hard for me to write letters. I wish I could write interesting ones. Anyway, life is a dream. All we can do is live in hope. Whether it happens or not is a matter of luck. What kind of pen do you use, Aki-chan? I have to use ballpoint pens. For 25 cents, you can buy a good one. I bought 20 of them for 1 dollar the day before yesterday. I don't know where they are made, but they don't seem to be made in Japan. Everywhere I go, they're full of Japanese products. If I go to the supermarket, they sell Japanese sake too. It's lonely that there are no Japanese people there, though.
There are evening showers every afternoon. It is cool at night. It is now storm season and we must be careful until mid-November. I pray for safety this year as well.
July 9th Morning Uncle
Four friends from the same hometown died in an accident
August 13, 1962
Mi-san (my sister-in-law) and Yamauchi died. They were on the way back from a farewell party for a person who was going back to Japan soon, together with my wife and two other compatriots, when they were hit by a train at a railroad crossing, and all four of them were killed. I was supposed to go too, but an urgent matter prevented me from going, so I escaped the disaster. You could say it was carelessness, but that's just how it is, but I guess this is fate.
I often hear stories of people escaping death because they missed a train or plane. Now I am the only Tango resident left alive.
Japan is in a great economic boom, and job difficulties are a thing of the past. Nowadays, if you don't treat a maid like an ume-don (Osaka dialect for a maid) like a guest and bow three times and nine times, you won't get any customers. Money can buy anything, so even people who live in six-tatami rooms apparently have TVs, refrigerators, and even cars. Money seems to be circulating well. Every bar is full of people. This is the story of someone who returned from Japan, and even if you take it with a grain of salt, it's still impressive and very much appreciated.
October 15, 1962
Thank you for your letter, Mi-san. I'm glad that everyone is healthy. I'm also safe. It's gotten a little cooler here, and I need a cover at night. This summer was very calm with no storms, but it was raining a lot, which was a problem.
I imagine you must have been praying for the repose of your loved ones as you celebrated the 20th anniversary of your brother Yoneji's death and the 10th anniversary of your nephew Osamu's death. I regret that I was not able to meet Yoneji again and Osamu.
I read in the newspaper that Japan has had another bumper harvest, which makes me very happy. Ironically, fresh vegetables are in short supply and are more expensive than meat. I hope I don't eat too many and get sick.
The other day, about 50 Japanese people came to Yamauchi's funeral. I didn't know any of them. I could clearly see about 15 GI brides standing in a line. Their appearance and bone structure were almost the same as they were 50 years ago. They were probably people who grew up on potato porridge. They looked to be around 30 years old and from the countryside.
Today is October 15th. It's getting cooler day by day. Christmas and New Years are coming up soon. I wonder what I've been doing all year. I haven't been lazy or anything, but I haven't been able to get anything done.
I don't want to live in a big house. I don't want to drive a fancy car. I don't want to taste the delicacies of the mountains and the sea. All I want is to eat when I'm hungry, sleep when I'm tired, not worry about what other people say, and spend my days in close contact with nature.
He chose America over emigrating to Manchuria or Korea.
November 5, 1962
Mi-san, today is the fifth day of November, 76 years ago, when I let out my yell. I always forget about it and then remember later, but strangely enough, I remembered today. In the evening, I was tired after coming back from the fields and lying down on the couch when Lester from the apartment came over and said, "Today is your birthday. Shiyojya (my wife's name) has made your favorite fried chicken and pumpkin pie and is waiting for you, so come right away." He came all the way to pick me up.
I was born not in the house in Takiuma (Miyazu City) that is now there, but in a place called Oka no Ura, near the cemetery on the outskirts of the village, which is now a rice field. When I was about two years old, my grandfather built the current house by making a lot of efforts, but most of the fields were taken as collateral for a loan (meaning security or mortgage), which marked the beginning of our poverty. After that, we were always tenant farmers. Even if we worked hard all year round, we could barely make ends meet.
If the harvest was bad, he couldn't pay his debts at the end of the year. He even wrote a loan for just 5 yen. In such a state, he couldn't enter a good junior high school in his village, so he had no choice but to go to the agricultural school in Kyoto, which was subsidized by the prefecture. At that time, just after the Russo-Japanese War, there was a lot of migration to Manchuria and Korea, but he came to America because he thought it was more promising.
I had intended to stay for about three years, save up some money, and then go back home, but things went wrong and I ended up staying in this country. I could go on and on, but I think you already know, so I'll stop here. I'm still as healthy as ever and working in the fields.
December 25, 1962
Mi-san, I received your parcel. They are all rare items. It's been a while since I've smelled the scent of my home country. Today is Christmas. But the field was busy and I worked all day. Last week, the weather was unusually cold, and not only the crops but also the oranges that had just started to turn color froze. There's not much time left this year. I hope you all are healthy and able to welcome the new year.
Very few people born in the Meiji era survive
January 1, 1963
Dear Mi-san, I received the New Year's cakes a week ago. I had hoped that they would arrive well, but they were moldy again. However, the mold only seemed to be on the surface, so I immediately sealed them in a glass jar and put them in the refrigerator. I'll take them out around next Sunday and check, but the contents should be fine. Anyway, thank you for your kindness.
It seems to be a little colder than usual this year, but I am in good health, have a good appetite, and sleep well at night. Recently, old acquaintances and friends have been dying one after another. Most of them are about the same age as me. The cause of death was cancer or heart attack. Fortunately, I haven't had any signs of that happening yet, but I still can't let my guard down.
After Yamauchi died, there was no one to talk to in Japanese, and there are very few people born in the Meiji era left. In the next five years, the Japanese language will probably disappear completely. The other night, I had a dream that I was back in my hometown. The Yamada fields in "Okuyama no Bo" (the name of Takiuma, Miyazu City) deep in the mountains had been beautifully turned into farms.
There was a modern bungalow, a vegetable garden and a flower bed. There was even a boat floating in the pond. No matter how many years pass, I still miss my hometown. Even if it's an isolated island in the middle of the ocean or deep in the mountains where no birds go. Lately, I've been imagining the world of that faraway star. Someday, I'll understand what it's like. I want to live until then. I'm tormented by the thought of the very end of the universe. I remember the young poet who committed suicide. I can picture him loving sukiyaki. I shouldn't get sentimental at the start of the new year, so I'll stop here.
Donating land to city and county
February 18, 1963
Thank you for your letter, Mi-san. I had heard about the heavy snowfall in the back of Japan through the papers, but I didn't expect it to reach Miyazu. In the old days, it was normal for it to snow two or three feet deep, and farmers were happy about it as it was a sign of a good harvest. Snowy winters were actually warmer, and as a child I often ran around barefoot on the frozen snow.
I ate the New Year's rice cakes that you sent as zoni, and they didn't taste any different. The mold had penetrated deeper than I expected, so only a very small part was edible.
Maybe one day I'll be able to eat my fill at Irori's side. I'm still as strong as ever. Lately I've been feeling a bit depressed, and I've been getting sick a lot, so I get tired of things quickly and I can't feel as enthusiastic as I used to, which is a problem.
I don't mean to achieve success or fame, but I think I was too easygoing because I didn't have to worry about making a living. I think everyone experiences this at least once, some people turn to religion, others distract themselves with hobbies like traveling. Sometimes I think I wish I could go back to the situation I had when I went to America, when I had nothing and lived with only hope.
What should I do? You are the only one I can talk to about this. It's not a lie, it's not Jordan. Anyway, since this is the situation, I have decided to consult with my lawyer and organize my assets.
For the first time, I donated 100 acres of land (1 acre is about 4 tan in Japanese) to the city of Delray as a sign of gratitude for their long-term support, and 40 acres to the county. An agricultural experiment station is one of my lifelong goals, but it became impossible to realize, so I asked the county to do it. I don't have much time left now. No matter how many years I live, I'm content just to eat.
March 6, 1963
Thank you for your prompt reply, Mi-san. It's a little difficult to answer when asked what I want most, but for now, it's travel. I'd like to travel around the world, but one year will be enough. In the end, I'll definitely go back home. The mountains and rivers of my home country. I'll confess this now, but there are hardly any days when I don't think of home. One day, I will go back. I can't go back completely, but I might go back and forth every one or two years.
I am extremely busy digging a pond now. If there are no breakdowns, it will be completed in about two months. In any case, humans have no choice but to work. If we slack off, it will be over. I will pull myself together and get to work.
March 30, 1963
Mi-san, recently Japanese magazines have been advertising that "wolfberry" is effective against all kinds of diseases, but you have been suffering from high blood pressure for a long time, so I think you have already tried it. I would like to try making a sample myself, so I would like you to send me some seeds as soon as possible. I would like to send you about 25 or 30 seeds by airmail, so please send them to me.
Last Sunday, I visited a German friend in Fort Rodadero where I lived a few years ago. While there, I stopped by a second-generation Japanese family living in the suburbs, and other families were there too, so I met them for the first time in a long time. The children are third-generation, and are almost as built as white people. They don't speak Japanese, they only speak English.
There is a family of Koreans living in Delray. They are from Tokyo and serve as secretary for a wealthy man in the city. He graduated from the Japanese Law University and spent three years at a university in Miami. His wife is a tall and beautiful actress. They have two boys. I gave them some old Japanese magazines and they gave me some rare Japanese things like dried squid, instant miso soup, somen noodles, and Moroko fish from Lake Biwa.
March 1963
By the time he was 30, he was worth about $250,000.
Aki-chan, I received the photo. Aki-chan is so bold. She has become a beautiful young lady. I can't believe it's the same forehead as yesterday. She has such a cool, smug look that she's the daughter of some noble family. Youth should be enjoyed to the fullest, but please don't go overboard and worry your mother.
Japanese kimonos are beautiful. They are so elegant that it is no wonder that foreigners admire them. The pure white silk damask fabric and the glowing peony flowers are simply stunning. It is a work of art that Reiko has worked so hard on.
It's a bit ironic that Aki-chan, who isn't very good at math, is working as a cashier at a company. But the world is not so worrying. I was also bad at math in elementary school and it made me cry. My grades were always just barely passing. Because of that, I worked recklessly even after coming here. Sometimes I was right, sometimes I wasn't, and I kept repeating the same thing until today.
By the time he was 30, he had become a wealthy man worth about $250,000 and lived in a first-class hotel, living like royalty. Back then, $250,000 was a lot, more than a million dollars these days. However, due to a small mistake, he lost it all, and not only was he penniless again, he was also in considerable debt.
I didn't cry or lament. I persevered and worked hard again, but it was a time of economic depression, so it was impossible to raise funds. It was during this time that I lived in a rundown hut and lived like a beggar. Enough with the confession story, let's go back to the original story. My friend wanted to learn how to use a Japanese abacus, so I bought him one. He seemed to be able to do addition, subtraction, and multiplication, but he just couldn't do division.
I think there was something like multiplication by nine, but I can't remember it. Aki-chan, if you know it, please let me know as soon as possible. It's division by nine. Look. This friend is a young lawyer who graduated from university, but I was surprised that he didn't know multiplication by nine. There is always someone better than you.
It's already March this year. It's getting warmer day by day. Kyoto will soon be bustling with tourists as cherry blossom season approaches. Recently, older Issei who live in America are going to Japan to find wives. They're looking for someone to have tea with. There are quite a few Issei widows, but they don't pay any attention to these Issei men. Most of them live well. They finally feel at ease after their husbands die. They don't feel like remarrying and having to beg for their wayward husbands again.
Many Issei men are old-fashioned and stubborn. Japanese girls have a good reputation in this country. The number of white people, as well as Nisei, who go to Japan to look for wives is increasing every year.
I have started digging the pond again after a while. It is expected to be completed in about two months. By autumn of next year, I will be able to catch big trout. I am looking forward to seeing Mt. Fuji, Miho no Matsubara, and Seta no Nagahashi Bridge (note 1) .
(Note 1: Seta no Nagahashi is actually Seta no Nagahashi. It is the Karahashi Bridge in Seta, Otsu City, Shiga Prefecture. There is an old song that goes, "Even if the samurai's boats are fast, if you are in a hurry, turn around Seta no Nagahashi.")
A house suitable for the club is currently being planned. Two more old acquaintances have died. One was a man from Morioka, Rikuchu, and we shared the same rice pot for about a year when I first came to America. He was a very successful farmer, and died at the age of 76. He was the same age as me. The other man was a white man nearby, who was found dead in his car on the side of the road. It wasn't murder or suicide, but a common case of heart attack. He was one of my comrades when I was in business, and he was also successful and wealthy in the countryside. Everyone's end is different. As for myself, judging from my handwriting, I will have no trouble eating and will live a long life, but for some reason I feel like I will die in a big forest wearing my boots.
(Titles omitted)
© 2019 Ryusuke Kawai
