Romanne Santiago Posadas

A Thousand Paper Cranes for Japan By Romanne Santiago Posadas March 2011 Hiromi Takita was our tour guide when I first came to the Land of the Rising Sun in October of 2010. (Second from left, Hiromi is smiling cheerfully with the author on her left along with two other delegates from the Philippines.) A few months after our trip, I was shocked to know that a tsunami has devastated Fukushima and the surrounding areas. The news filled my heart with concern and empathy for people I know. I wondered if Yoshi Ishikawa, a soft-spoken ministry official, was safe with his Filipina wife and family. I thought about Fumiko, the bright-eyed lady reporter at Yomiuri Shimbun. I thought about the hardworking civil servants who dined with us at the little tempura house near our hotel. They must be busy running around or answering phone calls. Then I thought about my friends who were half way through their master’s degree at a university in Tokyo. Will the tragedy affect their schooling? I wondered if our chief diplomat was doing well. She was the epitome of hospitality when I met her at the Philippine embassy. But mostly, I was worried for Hiromi-san. She told me her husband was with her in Tokyo. I saw the pride in her eyes when she recounted her husband’s job at Panasonic. The couple was saving for a car. I fervently prayed for their safety, along with folks who may have been affected by the calamity. I also remembered that Hiromi’s parents lived in Kyoto, which is two hours away by train. Amidst the dread that has gripped the nation, I hoped they were quietly sipping their green tea. As I pondered the life of people I know, astonishing images started flashing in my mind. Artistic soji screens and expensive tatami mats of the Tokyo Imperial Palace were soaked in water! Nihonjin and gaijin were travelling on lifeboats along Shibuya crossing. Astroboy was seen flying and carrying children to safety. My imagination was running wild. I was in a state of trance. Suddenly, messages started popping in my phone. A sense of relief flooded inside of me. Hiromi and my friends were all safe. Thank God. But even after this grateful discovery, I still could not push myself to sleep. I embraced my pillow and lulled my imaginings. I felt a rush of nostalgia. I spent a total of nine days in Japan. It was an educational tour for persons involved in the Mindanao peace process. The tour was sponsored by the Japanese Ministry of Education. With wistful eyes, I slowly walked to this dreamy land, cherry trees constantly swaying in my mind. I logged in to my Facebook account with the yearning to reminisce. It wasn’t long before I found what I was looking for. The pictures were lovingly organized under four albums: “TOKYO IN MY EYES”, “Hiroshima and Miyajima in my heart”, “KYOTO MEMOIRS”, and “Tracing My Footprints in NARA AND OSAKA”. I started browsing the pictures one by one. Events and stories came flashing before my eyes. (One afternoon in Harajuku) Tokyo is a vibrant city. At twelve midnight, as I eat my first dinner at the Shiba Park Hotel, I saw people in black and gray flannel suits pedaling their way home on a bicycle. Young and old. They pedaled to their respective destinations. It was dark outside but the Tokyo Tower was awash in majestic orange lights. I walked to the convenience store at the corner of the street and bought my first Japanese beer. I was instantly in love. I want to work in a city where I don’t have to cover my nose from pollution or to feel sorry about beggars on the street. I want to pour sake to the waiting ochoko of my friends and to bow to each other good naturedly. I want to live with people who take their jobs seriously, who dress well regardless of the nature of their jobs, who value honor, cleanliness, and order in society. The character of a daimyo in Shogun, a fictional novel by James Clavell, said, "the law may upset reason but reason may never upset the law, or our whole society will crumble like a tatami.” Remembering these words now, I realized why Tokyo behaved the way it behaves. There is a socio-cultural consciousness which defines behavior in its society. Every motion is in harmony with another. How can an urban center be in a state of constant harmony? Thinking about it, I realized I did not see a single policeman lurking in street corners. As I reminisce this marvelous city, I believed in my heart that Fukushima can overcome its woes. Without a shadow of doubt, it will rise above the water which drowned its infrastructures and destroyed the harmony of its moral fiber. Next stop was Hiroshima. It was the highlight of our tour. I still remember the feeling of excitement. (A resident of Hiroshima) What happened in Hiroshima 75 years ago was far worse than what engulfed Fukushima a decade ago. In just over six decades, Hiroshima was able to rebuild itself. When I think about my trip to Mazda Museum on that fine October afternoon, I am filled with admiration for every strong-willed and disciplined Nihonjin who reconstructed Hiroshima from the ashes of nuclear disaster to the great city that it is today. At the Children’s Peace Monument in Hiroshima, I stood teary-eyed reading a story about the thousand paper cranes, which inspired little Sadako Sasaki. Now, as I read about the aftermath of the earthquake and tsunami, I hope that a thousand paper cranes shall be enough to inspire Japan to continue carving its niche under the sun. At one point, I remembered watching a news report on TV about the President of Japan Airlines. It’s incredible to see the CEO of a corporation sacrificing his personal salary to save his company from impending bankruptcy. Such humility, frugality, and strength of character bespeaks of the pervasive fortitude, worthy of a true daimyo in the days of Edo. (A monument of Astroboy in Kyoto City) Memories of my sojourn in Japan are forever be etched in my mind: the grace of geisha walking on the streets of Kyoto, the impressive Golden Temple, the sweetness of green tea ice cream, the wise words of the chief abbot of Tōdai-ji Temple, the monument of Astroboy which is a landmark of my childhood, the historic Nijo castle, the smiles of school children at Asakusa Temple, the remarkable gadgets at Akihabara Electric Town, university students who can speak Tagalog and who can mimic Filipino folk dance with the same elegant grace of a native dancer, signature campaign against nuclear power, the Miyajima deer, samurai swords and colorful parasols for sale, and the amazing bullet train. All these and more represent the breadth and depth of Japan’s culture and its singular place in modern contemporary world. The lamp once out Cool stars enter The window frame. Plum flower temple: Voices rise From the foothills The crow has flown away: swaying in the evening sun, a leafless tree. This haiku was written by the Japanese novelist Natsume Soseki -). His poetry bespeaks of the hope and aspirations of a people. As I read his poetry, I felt the grief of a nation besieged by disasters such as the Great Kantō earthquake of 1923. Fortunately for humanity, time is a great healer. In the book “Shogun”, the words of James Clavell still rings in my head, “time has no single measure, that time can be like frost or lightning or a tear or siege or storm or sunset, or even like a rock.”