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, continued to write letters to his sister-in-law and her family, who had lost her husband (Sukeji's younger brother) after the war. In 1970, the weather was bad and crops were severely affected. The departure of his niece, who he had planned to bring over, became uncertain, and he received news that his brother had died. Thinking of his sister, who had already passed away, he felt dejected that he was the last to leave.
* * * * *
June 4, 1970
Mi-san (sister-in-law), I sent five books (all identical) directly from the publisher the other day. As soon as they arrive, please distribute one copy each to Mr. Higuchi, Miyazu City, Miyazu High School, and the Miyazu City Youth Association. Please read the remaining copy yourself.
I wrote a detailed account of my recent situation to Reiko the other day, so I won't go into it here. There is nothing more miserable than being lonely and sick. Despite my usual efforts to prepare myself, I find myself falling into pessimism.
<My brother's death, I have regrets>
July 3, 1970
Thank you for your letter, Mi-san. I was surprised by the death of Masabee (my younger brother). I received the news that Masabee was in critical condition in the middle of last month, but it happens all the time so I didn't think much of it. I haven't heard anything from his family yet. They may not come, like they did with Fudeko (my younger sister). Although Masabee and I were always at odds, he was my only blood relative in the world, and I wanted to meet him one day, so I regret that it has come to this point.
To live is to die once. It is eternal sleep. Good and bad are wiped away. Wouldn't it be better to set out on a journey without worries than to suffer from illness and cause trouble to those around me? I am finally the last of the last. One day my turn will come. There is a mountain of work to do, but death is fate, and there is nothing I can do about it.
Maybe it's because of my age, but the cold and heat are harder on me than most. There's been a lot of rain, so the seedlings I planted are getting fat. When I think about three years from now, I forget all that suffering. My mood hasn't changed at all, but my appetite has gotten a lot better. These days, everyone is going on vacations. I don't have a specific destination in mind. I just lie around whenever I have free time. This is what I enjoy more than anything. Kyoto has become lively, hasn't it? I think your monthly trips to Miyazu will be the most enjoyable thing for you. Farewell.
Living in a one-bedroom trailer house
July 27, 1970
I received your letter dated the 15th, Rei-san (niece). A passport can be issued without any documents. That's a bit surprising. You're ready, but we haven't even built a house yet. The house we're in now is a one-bedroom trailer. It's good for a couple, but it's too small for me and my uncle.
As we all know, the construction boom has caused a labor shortage, materials shortages, and rising prices, making it difficult and tedious to build a house in the countryside. Apartments are being built one after another in the city, and although they can be bought or rented instantly, they are often quite expensive.
I don't want to live in the city. The other day, Mr. Snyder (a friend) came over and told me that he had bought land in the countryside, built a house and lived there alone. He put the house up for sale and it sold, but the price of land had risen so he couldn't buy a new house, so he had to vacate the house he sold and had no choice but to move to an apartment. It has two bedrooms and costs $200 a month, plus $250 for miscellaneous expenses. He has now quit his job at the newspaper company and is now working as a correspondent for a major magazine company.
If you come, I will come to meet you. I am disabled and I am not good at geography. My driving is dangerous, so I have asked Mr. Snyder to go. I wrote those things because I thought you would be surprised when we met for the first time. They are all true. All we can do now is wait for a while.
Now that I have my passport, there is no need to rush. I can study English. I have two teachers, Mikio (my nephew) and Akiko (my niece), by my side. It all depends on your efforts. Above all, I need to speak as much as possible.
Thank you for the Yusura plum (called Yusuranme in the Miyazu region). They are good seeds, I will plant them right away. I hope they grow well, but I am a little worried. Not a single tree grew the last two times.
I'm still the same. My body feels heavy and I don't feel like doing anything. Even if I force myself to do something, I get tired right away. The doctor said that I'm exhausted both physically and mentally from pushing myself too hard for so many years. Worrying is the worst thing. He said that there's nothing I can do but rest.
The other day I went to town about the land tax. I had a lawyer look into it, but it was a little too late, so I had to pay an extra $1,750. I stopped by my friend's house. Unfortunately, he wasn't there, so I was tired and slept in the shade of the trees in the garden. I was woken up around 9pm.
Mr. XX first informed me of Masabe's death. In the photo, he looks much older than I thought. I guess he was worried. I don't know what happened, but he's in a pitiful position. I think it would have been better if he had returned to his hometown immediately.
How is your situation these days? Are you good at sewing? You're not the "motherfucker" of the family, are you? How is Akiko? I think she's recovered and gone back to Miyazu.
I received a letter from Higuchi-san. It was a letter of thanks for the book and of regret for Masabee. Sometimes I feel homesick and think about moving back. When I was in my hometown, I loved fishing and often went out in the summer. I often caught flatheads and gobies. What about now? Just after the war, there was a plan to reclaim land up to the area around Monju no Dehana and Suzuzaki (near Amanohashidate)... and even the area around Ipponmatsu. Now it's just a dream.
Housing issues not going as planned
September 16, 1970
Thank you for your letter, Mi-san. My current situation and health condition are exactly as I wrote to Reiko the other day, and there is nothing changed. The housing situation is not going as planned, so I explained the facts as they are and asked for your understanding in order to avoid any misunderstandings. However, it was a failure, and I did not receive even a single reply. Now my thoughts have changed. I don't have much time left, so instead of worrying about pointless things, I have decided to just let things take their natural course.
I'm very happy that Masabee's affairs have been settled smoothly. I'm glad that you were able to receive your father's inheritance as well. Fudeko received the house in Takiuma, and the rest went to repay Masabee's debts. I received nothing. My parents worked hard all their lives and barely made ends meet. ... What a pitiful life they lived.
The typhoon season is still here, and we have been lucky enough to have been spared several hits, but there are still two months to go, so we cannot let our guard down. The fruit trees we planted recently have started to grow thicker due to the recent successive rain showers.
Everyone has their own shortcomings. Even after years, it's hard to find them just through correspondence. Human kindness is slowly fading, and in this world where everything is self-centered, even if someone asks you for something, you'll be flattered as long as it's convenient, but once it becomes even a little troublesome, you won't even reply. Goodbye.
<Busy tending to fruit trees>
April 8, 1971
Thank you for the photo and letter, Mi-san. Akiko has become prettier, I don't know, but she looks good in Japanese clothes. Akiko also sent me a letter and a photo. It was just a formality, but we had a discussion, but there was no notice of the marriage. I found out about it for the first time through your letter, but I still don't know the address. Mikio seems to have grown a lot in the photo. He looks like a big man, sandwiched between you two little guys.
I still have problems with my limbs, and although I've gotten used to it, the cold and humidity are still a pain. It's still cold here too. Even though it's April, it's 70 degrees (21 degrees Celsius) during the day and around 50 degrees (10 degrees Celsius) at night. I'm sensitive to the cold, so I sleep wrapped up in an electric blanket at night.
This year, the weather has been just as bad as last year, with frost and ice. In addition, an unusual drought has caused disease and insects, destroying almost all the vegetables. Prices have risen dramatically due to shortages. Tomatoes, eggplants, cucumbers, chili peppers, beans, etc. are about 25 to 50 cents per loaf at the store. Meat is also expensive, with high-quality meat going for 1 dollar to 1 dollar 50 cents per loaf.
The cheapest chicken is around 30 cents. I am extremely busy tending to my fruit trees, planting, leveling the ground, etc. I sleep well and eat well. Whatever I eat tastes good, but I am picky. Sometimes I get by on canned food. No matter how many years pass, I can't forget the taste of rice. Especially in the summer, when I have no appetite, there is nothing better than ochazuke.
The pickles we use are homemade. The tea is from India. Japanese tea has a nice aroma but lacks flavor. The world is becoming more and more complicated. People are selfish and cannot be trusted at all. They are all talk and no sincerity. It's cold again today. It's just before 8am, but the sky is clear and the north wind is blowing. We're behind on weeding the pineapples, so we bought a new weeder yesterday. We don't have as many workers as we once did, but we're lazy and don't work as hard as we used to. I could go on and on, so I'll stop here for now. Goodbye.
This morning, 65 years ago, I set sail from Yokohama. It was a cold morning with raindrops falling. I have deep feelings for the long journey with high aspirations and the turbulent life. None of the Yusura plum seeds that Reiko sent me grew. The buds were not even cut off.
"A rat nibbled my big toe"
May 15, 1971
Thank you for your letter, Mi-san. I'm too busy and tired to write. It's finally starting to feel like summer since May. 90 degrees in the daytime, around 70 degrees at night. Today is May 15th. It's a big anniversary in my life. I arrived here 65 years ago.
The other day, I received a letter from Mitsuhama's father (Akiko's husband's family). I'm glad to hear that Akiko likes it very much. The day before yesterday, there was heavy rain for the first time in 10 months. It's a great relief, but it's not enough. It will probably rain more than we can handle soon.
The 30 Japanese persimmon trees I planted last year have started to grow beautifully. If all goes well, they will bear fruit next year. I'm going to try five varieties and if they turn out well, I'll plant more. When autumn comes, I remember the persimmons in Takiuma (my hometown). There are so many things I want to do. People laugh at me for being so old, but those of us who don't have much time left can't take it easy.
Miyazu and Takiuma seem to have changed a lot, but I'm a little surprised that the population has decreased. It's puzzling that a city with a population of 40,000 doesn't have a single newspaper. The Kitakinki area had a good newspaper.
My health is fine. I eat well, I sleep well. The only problem is that I can't walk very well and I have trouble crossing the streets in town. I recently got a new neighbor. Virginia Snyder and her family moved onto my property. Her husband, Ross, is a building inspector for the city. Virginia is still a newspaper reporter. They're both college educated and they're nice people.
With the cat gone, the number of mice has increased. A big one came in again tonight and nibbled on my big toe. I guess it mistook it for a carrot. It started to rain again. It's cool tonight. I can hear the crocodile roaring nearby. Good night.
(Titles omitted)
© 2020 Ryusuke Kawai
