Massachusetts Institute of Technology © 2011 Visualizing Cultures
Why am I starting a diary? Every traveler’s impulse... but, this trip is special,
a home coming...it is the first time I have crossed the international date line since we left Japan in the year Showa 37, that is...1962. I am practicing
calligraphy for the word “Diary.” The top Kanji character is “nichi” or “hi”
(pronounced “he”). It means “day.” The bottom character is “ki.” It means “record.” “Nichi-ki” is hard to say, so you say “nikki”...and that means “Diary.”
I learned calligraphy in school – I didn't like it because it takes patience. Beautiful calligraphy is a sign of culture, like the tea ceremony or flower
arranging. You look for a certain form of beauty. It is a way of expressing
yourself. It is not just writing, but it conveys feeling.
Site 01: Station
I arrive in My Old Hometown,
Hiratsuka, Japan
I found some old family photos here at the house...Yikes!
I hope no one else ever sees them!
My watch is still set on Boston time: 7:30 pm...yesterday!
site 01 Photo 1.1
Niki Diary
site 01 Photo 2.1
America...here I am fresh off the boat, aged 10, grease in hair.
site 01 Photo 2.2
Older and wiser - no grease.
My first impressions of America: houses far apart, lots of cars, lots of trees, lots of food, and ice cream served at school!
Shocked by hair color, especially the red-haired girl in class with freckles and metal things on her teeth (braces).
She wore a girl scout uniform. I felt happy that they wore uniforms too, like we did in Japan.
site 01 photo 3.1
Junior High School in Alabama. I am carrying my clarinet, 9th grade
I didn’t understand much English the first year in Alabama. I remember when I was in 2nd grade back in Japan, we were one of the first families to get a TV set.
My first glimpse of the United States was on the cowboy show “Bonanza.” The first phrase of English I ever understood was one of the brothers, Hoss, saying, “What happened?”
site 01 photo 3.2
Band Program: Jr. High band concert
High School: the longer I was in America, the more different I felt. I tried to fit in to a 100% non-Japanese community. Started to stutter.
After 10 years I snapped. In Japan, I felt like part of a group. I knew how people would react. It was a structured society. The US was a free-for-all...make your own rules.
site 01 photo 4.1
Lookin’ good! high school in Alabama...Here I am with mom, dad, and my little sister, Mari. (Cool car)
Arriving at the station in Hiratsuka today I was surrounded by my native tongue... and people who look like me!
It reminded me of the first time I visited San Francisco. Something was strange...but what? Then I realized that no one was staring! I had always been stared at. A Japanese family in Alabama was very... unusual!
site 01 photo 4.2
Football ticket... Alabama vs. L.S.U.
I had forgotten what it was like to ride the train in Japan...the doors open so fast! You have got to move!
I didn’t recognize my own hometown today: tall buildings, concrete streets, cars, buses. I remember muddy dirt roads, fields, ponds, bomb shelters, travelling by bicycle, bus, hardly ever by car.
Since I left, Japan has gone from being defeated in war to being an economic power.
site 01 photo 5.1
3rd or 4th grade; on top of mountain overlooking Hiratsuka
site 01 photo 5.2
I am in front, in the middle and my little sister, Haruyo, is next to me (in a white collar). I still cannot figure out why she was on our field trip because she was not in my grade.
Well, I do not know what else to write. It is just good to be home, even though home is not the way I
remember it!
site 01 photo 5.3
School outing at a beach resort near Hiratsuka.
We hiked, carrying water containers, wearing partial school uniforms.
site 01 photo 5.4
Close-up view of the water bottles.
(I am not in this shot, nor Haruyo either, for once.)
