Furusato

Imagining my Great Uncle's Beginning

My ninety-year-old father finally told me why he left Japan in 1952. He showed me an old, yellowed studio portrait of relatives I didn’t know existed. By this time, my father’s heavily accented English had floated away like the shriveled leaves off a dying tree. But even in Japanese, he was a man of few words. His bony finger pointed at the old photo - a proud bow-tied young man standing behind his family, “Boku no oji da. This is my uncle. He was a farmer’s son who became a doctor and then came to America.”

Judging from Great Uncle Ishii’s snappy outfit and his wife’s bobbed hair, the photo must have been taken in a California studio in the early 1920’s. The doctor stands by his seated wife who has managed to still their four or five year old son, Robert, dressed in a fussy Lord Fauntleroy outfit. Great Uncle Ishii’s hand rests on the shoulder of his daughter, Grace (Kanako), who looks about seven years old.

Great Uncle Ishii and his family looked like they fulfilled the American Dream. So why hadn’t my father told me about them until now? Why is this the only photo we have of these relatives? Five years after my father died, Covid gave me the opportunity to try to find answers. I started filling in the huge gaps in my relatives’ story. Starting at the beginning, it is mostly my imagination that fleshes out the bare bones I have. Great Uncle Ishii’s story must have started at the end of the 1800’s in the Japanese countryside:

* * *

In Kōshū of Yamanashi Prefecture, a Japanese farmer and his five year old son Ei, walked along the narrow banks of their rice paddies to the family cemetery. For generations, the family buried their dead in this tiny plot - always in view as they planted and harvested. The farmer and Ei passed the small Jizo statue put up for Ei’s dead brothers who died too young to be in the cemetery. The farmer nodded to Jizo and Ei copied his father’s greeting. The green dome of trees of the cemetery reminded Ei of the giant turtle who carried Urashima Taro to a fantastic undersea kingdom. An old tale about a fisherman who never returned.

“Otoosan. How big is the ocean?” Ei said to his father who walked before him carrying a wooden bucket and ladle.

The farmer answered, “I don’t know. I’ve never seen the ocean.”

As the farmer scooped water from the bucket over his parents’ grave stones, his son touched the oldest stones. Misshapen, covered with moss, and lopsided, these stones were barely recognizable as shaped by human hands.

Ei asked, “Otoosan, where will you and Okaasan be buried?” The farmer pointed out the small empty space near his parents’ and grandparents’ stones.

Ei looked up at his father and asked, “Where will I be buried?” The farmer looked around and scratched his head, “Saa. Basho ga nai. Well, there’s no room.”

That was the first hint Ei would have to cross vast distances, like a dandelion seed caught in a typhoon. For not only was this country crowded with the dead, the land was crowded with two thousand years of the living.

That August, before the Obon festivities began in the evening, Ei was taken by his parents to the old fortune teller at the local temple in Kōshū. The Obon festival was a time to dance with the drums, commune with the dead and cool themselves with ghost stories. The cicadas buzzed so loudly, Ei had to listen carefully to hear his fortune told by the old man. The bespectacled, scholarly-looking man looked at Ei and his parents. “Isn’t this the great-grandson of a miko? A shamen who was well known for her magic?”

The farmer frowned. “Yes, but shortly before she died, my grandmother was wronged by a wealthy lord. The Yūrei is still angry. I’m afraid for my son’s future.”

The fortune teller took Ei’s small hand, and carefully examined the faint lines of his palm. “Very interesting. This child will do very well in school but…” The fortune teller took off his glasses and looked at the farmer. “There is also a sign of tragedy.”

Ei thought of his two dead brothers. Okaasan had told him about one brother who died at birth and the other who died of fever when he was a few weeks old. Jizo was taking care of them now. He asked the fortune teller, “Will I die soon?”

The old man smiled at the young boy whose strands of thick black hair were plastered against his forehead with sweat. “Botchan, don’t go looking for death. It will find you when it’s time.”

Ei thought, not if I go far away.

A few years later, Ei accompanied his father on his three day walk to the new harbor town, Yokohama, to sell their silkworm egg cards. The sale of these cards would help make ends meet. For the seven year old boy, this was the most exciting journey of his life. He felt proud to help his father but reluctant to leave his little sister, Shizuko, who had reached the age of two. Ei’s job had been to watch Shizuko while Otoosan and Okaasan carefully placed handfuls of tiny silkworm eggs onto each card, covered them with paste and dried them on racks outside their hut. The village headman told them to meet a broker in Yokohama who had sold silkworm egg cards, pottery and lacquer ware from Kōshū villagers.

Gaijin, white outside-people with large noses and pale skin, bought these goods. Another farmer begged Ei’s father to take his young crippled son, Hiroshi, along with them. Since birth, Hiroshi’s legs had been too weak for him to stand. Why not see if Gaijin could help Hiroshi as well? Ei’s father felt pity and agreed to take the little boy. Ei waved goodbye to his mother who kneeled besides Shizuko, as his father led the ox pulling the cart with Hiroshi perched inside.

Three days walk was as far as the farmer and the boys had ever been. As they approached the outskirts of Yokohama, they saw new things - the jinricksha, a graceful two wheeled cart pulled by a muscled man. Well dressed men and women going in and out of large wooden buildings with bright colored lanterns and cloth flags, and as darkness approached, here and there, electric lights which glowed brighter than any candle. When they were hungry, the farmer stopped their cart and approached a street food cart. He gestured for two bowls of noodles. One for Ei and Hiroshi to share in the ox cart, and one for himself. When the Chinese food vendor saw that the two boys would share a bowl, he suddenly took back one bowl and poured half of its contents into another bowl so each boy would have his own. The vendor walked over to the ox cart and gave each of the boys a bowl with a set of chopsticks. Ei looked at his bowl as if it were a feast and said to the vendor, “Arigato. Thank you.”

The vendor smiled and said, “Hajimete? First time?” When Ei was startled by the man’s sing song accent, the man laughed and said, “Chugoku-jin desu. I’m from China.” Ei put the bowl to his lips and sipped the broth. Oily, rich and comforting as the warm liquid flowed to his belly.

Hiroshi exclaimed, “Takaramon mitai. The food is like a treasure box.” With their chopsticks, Hiroshi and Ei picked up pale white bean sprouts, gold bamboo shoots, and black fungus lying atop the noodles.

The farmer scolded them, “Stop playing with your food. You boys need to eat everything so we can return this man’s bowls.” Ei hurried to eat. The green negi sliced as thin as grass tasted crunchy-sweet. The tiny red flakes floating in the soup burned his tongue. Ei took a mouthful of the noodles. Chewy and more delicious than anything he had ever tasted before.

That night when Ei told the innkeeper about Chugoku-jin’s food, the innkeeper told them China is only a few days ship’s journey across the Japan Sea, just on the other side of Kankoku. “The Chinese are some of the many Gaijin in Yokohama. They speak different languages. The Gaijin with the long noses came from lands much farther away than China, across the ocean.”

The next day, the produce broker who took their silkworm egg cards told them a long nose Gaijin doctor named D.B. Neal at Jūzen Hospital was willing to see poor farmers like them.

He said, “Jūzen Hospital is in the Noge area of Yokohama, the other side of town.”

They walked all morning and along the way, Ei shouted, “Otoosan! Look.” The view spread out before them, beyond the many buildings, a strip of water glimmering on the horizon like silk.

The farmer exclaimed, “That must be the ocean. It’s so beautiful.”

Once they reached Noge, Ei was impressed by the height of the large white building which they were told was Jūzen Hospital. Four floors! The boy had never seen a building so tall. Ei almost tripped as he gazed up at the large glass windows of the monstrous structure. The front steps were wider and smoother than anything he had ever seen. The inside of the building seemed to contain a whole city. People rushing about. Ei stayed close to his father who carried Hiroshi through this strange building with a ceiling so high, it made Ei dizzy. They walked by wooden doors marked with unknown symbols until finally, they found the door of the Doctor Neal.

Inside the waiting room, an old woman got up to let Otoosan sit down with Hiroshi on his lap. Ei wondered what the others were waiting to see Dr Neal for. A few were farmers like them, but most were dressed in fine clothes. When the nurse finally called for them, she told Ei to stay in the waiting room. But when Hiroshi began to cry, they let Ei come in.

Inside a room, the nurse removed Hiroshi’s clothing and had the little boy lay his twisted legs on the white sheeted table. The unfamiliar sweet and tarry smell of the solution they used to sterilize equipment stung his nose. Ei looked around the room. A large glass window faced the sky, strange equipment gleamed through glass cases, and charts with mysterious drawings covered the walls. What a wonderful place. But Hiroshi was terrified and clutched Ei’s hand so hard, his fingers began to hurt.

The nurse said, “Kowagaruna. Don’t be afraid. The doctor will help you.”

Ei tried to calm Hiroshi just as he calmed his baby sister, “Nandemonai, This is nothing.” But his heart pounded so hard, he was afraid Hiroshi would see his ruse. This was the first time for him to meet a doctor. And not just that, a Gaijin doctor of western medicine. He was a tall red haired man with pale green eyes. He wore a white coat and spoke in a rolly-twisty sounding language to a nurse who translated his words into Japanese.

The nurse spoke for the doctor, “The Doctor wishes to examine the boy.”

The farmer stood back but Hiroshi clung to Ei and whispered, “Niō mitai! He looks like Niō!” Niō was Buddha’s guardian deity. The doctor’s large pale eyes did resemble the bulging eyes of the statues who stood guard at the gate of the largest temple in Kōshū. But Ei felt this man intended to be gentle rather than frighten them as Niō did.

Ei squeezed Hiroshi’s hand as the doctor examined the boy’s frail arms and legs, tapped his back and used a strange ear piece to listen to Hiroshi’s chest. The doctor smiled and spoke. Ei listened to the nurse translate the doctor’s words, “I will give you a prescription. Instructions on what the boy should eat. If you see no improvement in three months, please return here.”

Ei thought, How does this Gaijin know what’s wrong with Hiroshi? Before the doctor could leave, Ei raised his free hand, as he had been taught by his teacher when he had a question. Otoosan frowned at Ei and said, “Kora! Don’t waste the doctor’s time!”

The doctor saw the interaction between father and son and smiled. The nurse listened to the doctor and said to Ei, “The doctor wants to know what your question is.”

Ei gulped and said, “Onegai. Please, sir. Tell me what is wrong with my friend.”

The doctor said something to the nurse who brought out a notepad with which she took notes as the Gaijin spoke. Then the doctor patted Ei on the head as he left the examining room. Finally after the nurse examined her notes, she said, “The doctor says your friend has a disease called ‘rickets’. The doctor says he learned in medical school that many children and animals suffer from this disease. But if the sick child is fed fish oil and exposed to sunlight, he will heal.”

Ei was astounded. This Gaijin learned this in ‘medical school’? What was that? He turned to Hiroshi. “Did you hear that? You will be healed!”

Over the coming years, the fortune teller’s prophecy for Ei seemed to come true, at least the part about doing well in school. Young Hiroshi’s recovery inspired Ei to study hard. But now he dreamed of going to medical school, just like the Gaijin. Not only was Ei smart. He had a sturdy farmer’s build and a work ethic which ensured he beat his classmates on the playfield as well as in the classroom. But he never gloated. He respected his elders but also adored his younger sister.

As soon as Shizuko could talk, she asked Ei questions. “Oniichan. Nani? Big Brother. What’s this?” as she pointed her finger to her eye or her nose or some other part of her body. And Ei never tired of answering his sister with careful explanations. As soon as Shizuko began school, she became obsessed with learning everything her brother was interested in. If she occasionally beat him in a word game, he never became resentful as most older brothers would. Soon the farmer and his wife could no longer keep up with their children’s conversation in the evenings about science and math.

Over the next years, like many school boys, Ei followed newspaper stories of the Japanese adventurers who became rich overseas. The newspapers wrote glowingly of their favorite sons who did well, in Japan’s 1894 war against China, and then in the Gold Rush in America. But Ei was not impressed by the thousands of miners who crowded the trails up Gold Mountain.

Eleven-year-old Ei thought, “Baka. Fools. They are like the mice who stupidly follow the scent of rice into an empty storehouse.” Ei was most impressed by Furuya, a self-made man from his own Yamanashi prefecture. From humble beginnings as a money lender to the Japanese gold rush prostitutes in Seattle, Furuya became the head of a large company with branch offices in Yokohama and Tokyo. He made his fortune from trade, business and construction deals. He was rich enough to buy the Nippon Kan (Japanese Hall) in Seattle where every night there were Japanese concerts, movies, judo and kendo competitions and community meetings. Ei never forgot the newspaper photo he saw of Furuya, proudly standing in front of the Japanese exhibit at the 1909 Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition in Seattle.

Even as Ei grew into his teens, he kept his mild character and patience, which made him popular with his teachers. His high marks earned him praise. But for his sister, such intelligence was regarded with suspicion. Some of the same villagers remarked, “That Shizuko is too smart for her own good. Her great-grandmother’s Yūrei ghost is with her.” The girl did not fit in with the other girls who dutifully followed in their mothers’ footsteps. Shizuko spent her time pouring over her books, and then examining Ei’s books.

After he finished high school at the top of his class, Ei was accepted into Keiji Medical School in Tokyo, the first from his village to go to a university. His dream was coming true. He would begin studying western medicine. As a young man, Ei resembled his good-looking father. His wide set large eyes, thick eyebrows, and a nice smile were set off by skin that retained the healthy golden glow of a people who worked outdoors.

Ei and the other medical school freshmen were invited to a welcome party at the Dean’s home. As the twenty or so young uniformed men gathered in the Dean’s front room, Ei’s handsome features were noticed by everyone, including the Dean’s eldest daughter, Mia and Kato, an ambitious freshman who planned to someday be Dean of the school. Kato noticed Mia glancing at Ei and thought, Even if the Dean’s daughter likes Ei, surely he’ll choose a more suitable successor. Someone like me with a good family. Ei’s only country bumpkin.

All of the other students were from Tokyo. Sons of doctors, government officials or rich merchants, they were refined in manner and pale in color. But Ei was embarrassed by everyone’s admiring glances and looked down. Mia was so struck by Ei’s awkwardness that she approached him and whispered, “Take off your cap.” Ei’s face flushed in embarrassment and he could only stammer his thanks as he took off his cap. At that moment, Mia was charmed by the unpretentious young man. He was so unlike the other proud young men who visited her father.

The students were surprised and a little jealous when the Dean took Ei under his wing. Perhaps this handsome young man, a poor farmer’s son, will make something of himself. The newspapers loved this kind of story. In this exciting Meiji Era, everyone was thirsty for tales of success and happy endings. News about the Tokyo Industrial Exhibition filled the students with excitement and hope.

Of course, there was much work to be done. Not only would Ei need to be educated, he would need to be properly trained in social manners. The way he walked, The way he talked. Even the way his face looked. “Warauna. Don’t smile! That’s a sign of weakness and the patients won’t respect you.” Ei did as the Dean advised. He forced himself to frown so much, his face ached. When the other students sniggered at Ei’s provincialism, the Dean turned to them and said, “Ei-kun here has a much harder job than you boys. Be grateful of where you came from.”

But over the coming months, the Dean’s defense of Ei only served to fuel the other students’ resentment towards the farmer’s son. Kato was especially irritated. As soon as the students were alone Kato would pinch his nose and say things like, “Kusai. Something stinks of ox manure in here.” Or “I’d never let my sister be examined by someone who’s worked in the mud.”

Ironically, Ei longed for the clean, fresh air of his furusato. In Tokyo, the smoke from every household’s cooking fire, the stench from the pit toilets, and the decay of refuse on the streets assaulted him everyday.

Loneliness pressed down on Ei like the rain pelting his father’s humble home. He felt like the straw roof of their farmhouse, sagging and moldy. He missed the countryside. Back in his furusato, Ei was well loved and respected for being himself. Here the Dean was always “correcting” him and when he wasn’t being corrected, he was the butt of Kato’s teasing. And now, the Dean mentioned his daughter, “Mia has taken a liking to you.” The furious silent blush on Ei’s face was taken by the Dean as confirmation of mutual feelings of affection between the young people. But Ei only wished to escape the walls pressing in on his future. The only friendly face was that of the grocer’s daughter who saw him when he bought vegetables for the week. She noticed Ei’s downcast eyes and kindly asked, “Doshitano. What’s wrong?” Her innocent concern reminded him of the villagers back home and he responded to her.

Every week when he stopped by the small grocery, Ei looked forward to talking with the girl whose name he learned was Michi. It was inevitable that the lonely medical student and the friendly grocer’s daughter would be attracted to each other. One day, Michi invited him for tea in her home behind the grocery. When Ei sat at her small kotatsu table in the sitting room, she served him green tea and sliced a persimmon. “Where are your parents?” he asked.

Michi smiled and her cheeks colored. “My parents are away in the country, purchasing vegetables.”

After the tea and persimmon, Michi led Ei into the other room and kissed him. The temptation was too great. They began an affair. Ei felt as if his thirst had finally been quenched. For the next few months, Michi let Ei know when they would have the apartment to themselves. The relief he felt at every tryst they had was so great, he longed for Michi’s body as much as he craved for food and water.

One day, Michi told Ei her parents wanted to meet him, the medical student who visited their daughter regularly. The ruddy-faced grocer and his chubby wife welcomed Ei as an honored guest, as Michi sat silently behind them. “Sensei. Thank you for your kind attention to our daughter.” They bowed in deference to the young doctor. For this poor family, such a guest was a great honor. The grocer said, “We are sorry to bother you with the news that our daughter is with child.”

Ei’s first reaction was joy. But then he thought, Should I consult the Dean? But he knew what the Dean would say. Consider the consequences of acknowledging this relationship. Ei’s rise to become a doctor meant he was expected to marry a woman of an upper class family. Someone like the Dean’s daughter, Mia. The Dean had hinted how important a suitable spouse was, He said, “I’m so lucky to have married my wife.” and left unspoken any romantic feelings. “You know, she’s the daughter of a prominent government official who’s been so helpful in my career. I owe him so much.”

Although Ei was not a big drinker, he knew not to refuse the Dean’s invitations to go out drinking. They always went to the same tiny bar, run by an attractive woman named Yano. Valuable information was shared when they drank. Important men like the Dean relaxed his usual harsh persona and spoke his mind. There was a silent agreement they would never admit what had been mentioned under the cover of alcohol, the following day. The Dean’s formal paternalistic character transformed when he drank. A drunk who told the truth, the Honne while the during the day, the Dean maintained the Tatemae. A respectable exterior. Yano would pour their drinks and murmur her approval, “That’s right. The Dean is wise.”

While the Dean drank, Ei would take sips of his sake but drank nowhere near what the Dean drank. Ei learned to act the part of a drunk. Yano also drank to keep them company. One night over many cups of sake, the Dean winked and said to Yano, “We had quite a night, didn’t we?”

Yano blushed, covered her face with her hand and said, “Yamete. Stop teasing me. What will the boy think?”

Ei looked at the two of them. Are they lovers? The Dean laughed at Ei’s look of surprise. “Don’t be so naive, my boy. Many of my friends keep a mistress or two, along with illegitimate children. It is one of the privileges of success. Yano here knows never to intrude on my professional life and my wife’s realm. I am happy to enjoy her favors while she is happy to have my support. Isn’t that so, Yano?”

The bar mistress nodded her head in agreement. “The Dean is wise. He knows the way of the world.”

The Dean affectionately tousled Ei’s hair, “My boy, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

Ei didn’t mention Michi to the Dean. After all, the baby wasn’t born yet. He brought food whenever he could to the grocer’s family and made sure Michi was in good health. She would not suffer as his mother had. His worst fear was that she would lose the baby as his mother had lost his brother. I mustn’t get emotionally involved, he told himself but he couldn’t help imagining what being a father would feel like. In 1918, Michi gave birth to a healthy girl. Ei happened to be there when Michi’s water broke and he witnessed the birth of his own child. He felt such a sudden surge of love for the baby, that his chest ached. It was a girl. She inherited Ei’s wide set eyes and forehead. Her perfect little body was a miracle. Her hair was thick and glossy like the most succulent sea weed.

A month later, when they knew the baby would survive, they took the baby to the Shinto shrine for the blessing by the priest. Ei decided to name the baby Kanako. He wore his student uniform and wished he could have bought Michi a nicer kimono. The baby was dressed in a small kimono and held like a precious bouquet by her mother. It was a beautiful spring day, sunny with the scent of colorful camellias drifting through the air. As the priest conferred his blessing on Kanako, Michi noticed a white snake with red eyes peeking through the shrine door. She whispered to Ei, pointed to the snake and said, “A good omen. A promise of prosperity and good fortune.”

Ei laughed, “In the West, the snake is evil. He is the one who tempts Eve with the apple of knowledge.”

Michi said, “But how can the snake be both good and evil?”

Ei did not have an answer. But that night he dreamed a white snake came and spoke. “Give me the baby,” the snake said. Ei was horrified and woke up in a sweat. What did that dream mean?

The following evening Dean invited Ei to Yano’s bar. After the sake had taken its effect, the Dean blurted out, “Congratulations on your baby.”

Ei laughed to cover up his surprise. “How did you know?”

Yano said, “The whole neighborhood knows about the medical student who visits the grocer’s daughter.”

The Dean playfully thumped Ei on the chest. “It’s not surprising a healthy young tanuki like you would spread his seed.”

Ei felt insulted to be described as a tanuki, but bit his tongue.

Then the Dean turned solemn. “But you ought to know something about the grocer’s family before you get too serious about one woman.”

“When Yano told me your woman was pregnant, I hired an investigator to look into her family.”

Ei didn’t like where this conversation was going but tried to look unconcerned.

The Dean put his hand on the back of Ei’s neck. “This woman’s grandmother on her father’s side was from … Kankoku.”

When Ei didn’t react, the Dean continued, “No matter that some of them have lived in our country for many years. They will never be Japanese. They are not to be trusted.”

Yano said, “I’m shocked, too. The grocer’s family are such nice people but this explains why they didn’t prosper. Kawaisoo. I pity them.”

Ei’s heart sank. It was true. Japanese had strong feelings against Kankokujin even though one couldn’t tell them apart from the Japanese. Those Kankokujin born in Japan spoke Japanese as fluently as any native. The Dean said, “I’m telling you this for your own good. Once you are associated with a Kankokujin, your career as a doctor is ruined. You’ve had your fun with the grocer’s daughter. You’re lucky she only had a girl. A girl is expendable. Now it’s time you moved on.”

For Ei, the next days passed like a fog. How can I just move on and forget about Michi and Kanako? But he knew the Dean was right. Even back in his furusato, people were harsh in their treatment of Kankokujin who worked as common laborers. After all, Ei was just a farmer’s son. Just as there were always people above them in status, there were always those below. The government’s efforts to “modernize” weren’t going to change people’s hearts. Even below the Kankokujin, there were the burakumin, those Japanese who inherited their stigma through no fault of their own.

Could the Dean be wrong? Was he using this information to keep me from marrying Michi? I can’t believe the Dean or the grocer’s family would deliberately deceive me.

He confronted the grocer. “Is this true? Was your mother from Kanjoku?”

The grocer prostrated himself on the tatami mats while his wife and daughter looked on in shock. The baby began to whimper. The grocer cried, “Yurushite! Yurushite! Forgive me. It’s all my fault. I foolishly thought I could change my past. Before my mother died, she made me promise to hide her past. She didn’t want me to suffer as she and my father did.” He turned to his wife and daughter and touched his forehead to the floor, “Forgive me!” The grocer kept his head down, unable to face the shocked faces of his wife and daughter.

Ei took the crying baby from Michi’s arms. Kanako immediately stopped crying and looked up at her father with wide eyes brimming with tears as if she too were saying, Forgive me. Forgive us. He asked himself, Why is my daughter such a beautiful child? The grocer’s wife and Michi also threw themselves on the ground, quietly crying. Their fates lay in Ei’s hands.

Ei pressed his face into Kanako’s plump body. Her tiny hands patted the sides of Ei’s head, like the wings of a bird. The baby smelled of Michi’s breast milk and the tatami mats. Her coos comforted Ei as he considered what to do.

There is no future for us in this country. I must go to America.

* * *

I’ll end my tale here for now. Once Great Uncle came to this country, there was more for me to find in the internet forest. A notation in an old census chart. Newspaper articles. Public records. An old hospital building that was built by Japanese immigrants. There was evidence of Great Uncle’s success in California as my father had said. But I also found evidence of tragedies. The worst that anyone can experience. Explaining why my father had kept these relatives hidden from me all during his life here in this country. Maybe it’s time to breathe life back into my father’s secrets and see if I can hear their stories.