A moment with Obaasan

One of the best way to observe one's culture is to become what my professor would say "a fly on the wall" and since I've been living in Japan, I always thought of how it would feel to be a part of a Japanese family and not being surrounded by "Gaijin" (foreigners) on a daily basis. When I signed in for a program called "home visit family", I meet obaasan (the grandmother of the family). I could clearly see that she is a living cultural tie within the family. The family itself was beyond kindness that it's almost too good to be true but the one that holds the family is the grandmother. Without her, the traditional value would be far less adapted to the family as the modern lifestyle has already taken over to suit their current needs. In order for the family to get away from their busy life, they would visit obaasan once every week to see her but also to remind themselves about where they truly belong. I was overwhelmed to become a part of the family especially when I was invited to the grandmother's house. My social interaction with obaasan was far more different than it was with everyone else in the family but that doesn't necessarily mean that I felt uncomfortable with her. I had already experience many difficulties with my level one spoken Japanese in this country so this was not something entirely new. I knew I wanted to talk to her once the mum and the dad went home and left me and Ami (the daughter) at obaasan's house. Once obaasan was finally free from cooking and cleaning, my relationship with her starts to develop. Our conversation turns out (like it always do) to be very pleasant. A difficult yet committed conversation with my mind running wild with anticipation especially when I have to read all the possible signs that goes along with the words to at least understand the situation that was giving to me. I found myself overwhelmed by the story of her life during war time that allows me to glimpse and share in. She told me about her early marriage at twenty years old with the man she spend her life with until he passed away in 2010. She also talks about the atomic bombing in Hiroshima and Nagasaki where her grandfather was killed.  Her voice were spoken with serenity and contentment that could go for long without any need for response. Her story and behaviour to it penetrated my soul and I could visualize her being in that incident. I also found myself reflecting her story into the glimpse of my own grandmother during the Vietnam war and how her father fought to protect the country. Overall, it was such a wonderful feeling to be at obaasan's traditional house and hear her talking. The conversation continues to ebb and flow until midnight. A moment with obaasan that I will never forget.

Lost in your own neighbourhood

Being lost in your "supposedly" neighbourhood in another country could be the most terrible nightmare of your life. It already happened to me a few times during the first week of my staying at Hirakata-shi in Osaka. Since I've been accompanied by my flatmates everyday to school, I assumed everything will stay in mind. Then comes the time when I had to head back home without someone to accompany me and worse comes to worst, I completely forgot the way back. I realized that I never really paid much attention to the area so it was quite obvious that someone would want me to get lost at some point. This unfamiliar environment known as my neighbourhood suddenly became much clear. I was more aware of the streets, the buildings, the shops, the people and all those vending machine while trying to find my way home. It was a major challenge but it gave me another perspective of my neighbourhood. There are virtually no roadside parking in the local neighbourhood. The roads, streets are ridiculously narrow and the houses are crammed up against each other but that doesn't mean that Japanese people are not able to give you space while you are passing them with your bike. Many times when I encountered a cyclist, I experience a limited space between me and them and I know in fact it is not only due to the narrow roads. So if you are suffering from claustrophobia, you should not come to Japan. The majority of my neighbours are old people and you can see them walking or even jogging along the street every morning but there are no way I could ask my neighbours for direction since I do not speak any Japanese and they are probably from a war-time generation where English was not common at school so I just walked pass them and gave them a nod to pretend that I don't seem be lost. However, their behaviour towards the environment shows how they seem to be related to the earth by being grounded. Therefore, I believe that my neighbourhood has a fundamental quality of health and life. Apart from my neighbours, there were power lines filling up the sky, little family owned shops and restaurants hidden between buildings and of course a world of vending. Wherever you go, you’ll surely bump into this fascinated vending machine. My neighbourhood sure is convenient but not enough for me to identify where I am. After an hour and a half, convenience was back in the game. A foreigner in my neighbourhood. How convenient, just follow the foreigner and you are home.

It is however a lovely neighbourhood and my stop-motion video will show you the local neighbourhood of Hirakata-Shi.