公一

This will be the only Japan blog written about a specific person.

公一Kouichi was one of the first people I met in Nakanojo.

A very gentle person, he was the 係長, kakaricho, or sub-section chief, of my side of the 教育委員会 kyoiku iinkai, the Board of Education. We sat back-to-back at our desks for the entire first month of my first year's tenure, as the schools were on their Summer break and were not to begin school again until the end of August; there is about a six-week or so break in the summertime for Japanese students.

公一, or 公ちゃん Ko-chan, as he was affectionately called by his co-workers and as he invited me to call him soon after we met, was a quiet person by nature but he had a great sense of humor; during the first month he would turn around and, little by little, start teaching me some of the local ベンben (slang) based on the Japanese I already knew. I would crack the entire office up by trying out my new ben but, in the end, I found they were thrilled that someone would want to learn all that I could and acted as a sponge, soaking up all that I could, and all that anyone would be willing to teach me.

During the first month of my stay, 公ちゃん and Papa-chan took me out to climb the local landmark, 嵩山, Takayama and taught me of the magic of living in an area surrounded by volcanic hot springs. They took charge of me in my 歓迎会, kangeikai, welcome party during which I demonstrated not only my decent alcohol tolerance but also my stamina to stay out all night eating sushi and ramen and singing カラオケ karaoke.

We went on a trip along with other Education Board members and with several groups of junior high students who were involved with Nakanojo's sister city, located in 千葉県, Chiba Prefecture, on the beach. Papa-chan, 公ちゃん, Yuri-chan, Taka-chan, Kogure-san and I soon formed a sort of sextet; between us we would take little day trips from time to time to different places, everything from art museums to hikes in various natural landscapes. This group of people averaged in age about 15 to 20 or so years older than I was; most my age had left Nakanojo for The City, but tended to return when the responsibilities of Life called them back home to an existence more in touch with their roots, a very important detail in the lives of the Japanese.

公ちゃん and I became allies. I would join him and his wife in various activities. His sons were students of mine. Although feeling very attracted to him, an attraction I sensed he shared but knew it was something neither of us would speak of nor act upon, a deep and enduring friendship developed between us. In the middle of my second year's tenure, 公ちゃん was rotated out of the 教育委員会 kyoiku iinkai board of education and into the position of the Mayor and Vice-Mayor's right-hand man.

Although the move made everyone in the 教育委員会 sad, as 公ちゃんwas so sweet and loved by all, we still were able to see each other often and get out for excursions. There was a huge going-away party held for all who were being transferred out, and a welcome for those transferred in. The Japanese love to party. But that's another post. 公ちゃん had quite a low tolerance for alcohol, and I would often go to his rescue when I saw his face becoming flush with all the 義理 giri obligatory sips of 酒 sake he would have to drink...it's a cultural thing. I would come around with the sickeningly sweet orange soda drink or the canned 紅茶 kocha tea to give him something other than alcohol in his system, for which he thanked me, silently and profusely, and we would sit together and chat while watching the rest of the world imbibe.

In August 1996, the beginning of my third year in 中之条 I decided it was time to return to my home for a visit; I had not seen my family in a year and a half. Five of my friends, including Papa-chan and 公ちゃん decided to take a trip to the continental US at the same time so as to meet my family and see where I was from. I was thrilled to have this opportunity to share my home with them. My family was so gracious as to open their home to them for meals, arrange hotel stays, rent a van so we could travel to some famous and special sites together and try to communicate as much as possible with my friends. 公ちゃん really put himself out to try to communicate with my father. The two of them ended up very close, with my father greatly influencing 公ちゃん into making a huge change in his life--公ちゃん became a Christian a few years later because he thought my father so embodied all that was good and tried to live the way a Christian out to live without being pushy about it...living by example and not by word. At the end of their few days' whirlwind trip through Southern Oregon, we had to depart in the airport. For me, it was not sad as I knew I would be heading back to the Orient in a couple of weeks. But my family was extremely emotional, as were my normally rather emotionally-stoic Japanese friends. Tears were shed. 公ちゃんhad stayed up late composing a thank you message he wanted to read to my family in the airport, and he followed this up with a hug given to my father. The effort alone was very touching.

My final year in Japan witnessed great changes in 公ちゃん and my relationship. We tried to cram as many activities together in as possible, feeling like our time together was almost over.

We truly loved each other. This was very pure in the sense that no feelings were ever acted upon beyond shared activities and simply spending time, laughter, feelings...together.

公ちゃん was diagnosed with stomach cancer in the second half of my final year. Right before my departure, he was hospitalized and had the upper portion of his stomach removed.

My last night in Japan, before going to dinner with the closest of my friends from the 役場 yakuba town hall, I went to the hospital to spend a few hours with 公ちゃん. I told him everything I wanted to do still with him. He confided in me all he felt and wanted. Then we sat there, held hands, hugged and wept.

For an eternity.

That was the beginning of tears shed upon my departure, and yet that does not end the story. 公ちゃん made it through just fine, although he did lose a bit of weight that made his already slight frame even slighter. I had returned to the States, entered graduate school and met who is now my husband.

Seven people came all the way from Japan for my wedding.

公ちゃん was among them.

Taka-chan, a very close friend and confidant, pulled me aside while I was entertaining the group in the days leading up to the wedding and told me that 公ちゃん and his wife had divorced. She left him. But he did not want me to know because he didn't want things to change for me.

I let 公ちゃん know that I had been informed. I didn't know what to say. I don't know if anything would have ever been different, but he was not about to change my life's trajectory.

Our honeymoon took us back to Japan. My friends made it back before we did, and 公ちゃん was at the 中之条駅 Nakanojo eki train station awaiting us. He had with him a newspaper reporter from the prefectural paper to interview me as "the gaijin who has returned to her 第二古里 daini furusato second home."

Leaving 中之条 that time was very difficult for me. A part of me knew, I suppose, that I was never to return. My hopes skyrocketed when, in 2001 I heard from 公ちゃん saying he and Papa-chan wanted to come for a visit. I then received word from Papa-chan that 公ちゃん was in the hospital again. I gave birth to my daughter in November of that year and sent word back. I received congratulatory messages back from 公ちゃん through Papa-chan.

The next word I had from Papa-chan was that 公ちゃん had died.

He was 45 years old.

December 15, 2001.

My heart was broken, my world completely fell apart, after having tried so hard to reconstruct what had shattered after my father's death two years almost to the day before.

I will never again return to 中之条. Without 公ちゃん there with me, there is nothing more there but memories shared. I visit all the time in my dreams. I am still speaking Japanese in my dreams. 公ちゃん is there, by my side, in my dreams, and will be, I am sure, until the day I die.

It is my secret, that I keep guarded deep in my heart and soul, under lock and key. Very, very few who know me well know this story...

...but perhaps it is time to let the beauty, the deep sadness, and the truth of the story be known.