Imagine we are making a TV program to show the world the best, most fun parts of Shinjuku! You will choose your favorite spots, prepare the content and become reporters and directors! Once the places are decided, we will walk around and make live reports in front of them and interview each other and hopefully others about the wonders of Shinjuku! All in English, of course! Those who want to be filmed should bring their camcorders and cameras. However, we will respect everyone’s privacy so those who prefer not to be filmed, will not be on camera—but will still be reporters, though!

judittokyo.com/others/judits-reporter-class-in-shinjuku-tokyo

Interview by Judit Kawaguchi

Mariko Bando is the president of Showa Women’s University in Tokyo. She is a bestselling author with more than thirty books, including The Dignity of a Woman, which sold over 3 million copies. An advocate for women’s rights, Bando is Director of UNIFEM (United Nations Development Fund for Women) Japan Domestic Committee. Her distinguished career has had many highlights: She was the first woman to join the Prime Minister’s office as a career bureaucrat in 1969 where she served the government for 34 years. In 1995, she became Vice Governor of Saitama prefecture and in 1998 she was appointed Consul General to Brisbane, Australia, the only woman ever to hold such a post. From 2001 until 2003 she was Director General of the Bureau for Gender Equality in then-prime minister Junichiro Koizumi’s cabinet. Bando is equally successful in her private life: she’s happily married with two children, and is famous for her mentoring skills which earned her the respect and love of many generations.

Dignity means that when you’re breaking the glass ceiling, you’re doing it very carefully to make sure that the shards don’t hurt anyone. And of course, afterwards, you pick up the pieces.In Japan, we have bamboo barriers that keep women out of the circle of power. Luckily, bamboo is flexible so as long as you are, too, just like a little snake or lizard, you can squeeze your way into the center.

I never felt inferior to men. At school I knew the answers as well as any boy so I grew up thinking that women and men had the same potential. The challenge is to know oneself. I quickly realized that I’d do better at work than in the kitchen.

Subordinates, especially women, must raise their bosses. The reality is that company rules and modes of behavior were set by men for men so even today, few bosses know how to handle women workers. Men have their own unspoken understanding of the way a company system operates but women usually need more verbal communication. The trouble is that since most supervisors are men, they are worried about giving feedback to women, as they are scared of being called too tough or even accused of sexual harassment. Yet if a woman wants to grow, she must teach her bosses how to talk in a way that that she understands. One should never assume that the others know what one means.

Adults get jobs but it’s the work that matures the person. I grew into an adult thanks to my job and my colleagues. Nobody remembers your failures as well as you do. I couldn’t forgive myself when I didn’t do a job well. I was a very good student so I assumed that I’d do well at work but for the first decade I made a lot of mistakes. Now I know that I was too tough on myself. You don’t have to be!

No matter what happens, how nice your husband may be, keep your job! In the 20th century, most Japanese women unfortunately quit their jobs after they got married or had a child. So much talent and possibility was lost. I hope that the 21st century lifestyle is about women working and also having a family. It can be done and it’s worth it!

Don’t make excuses for yourself. Most people find alibis why things don’t go well for them. Don’t be such a person. Keep a polite distance from yourself so you can see your performance the way it is and improve. Work on yourself before you ask others to do overtime.

When you meet a woman with the Queen Bee Syndrome, you must take the stings with smiles and bring her more nectar than any worker bee, ever. Sadly, women in senior positions often look at younger women as competition and instead of supporting them, they make their lives even tougher. “I suffered a lot to get here, so you should, too! “ is their attitude. These queen bees often assume that a man can do a better job than a woman so they promote men over women. It’s a very sad predicament for everyone and shows that these queens don’t have enough confidence in themselves. They take pleasure in refusing help or even causing harm to other women. Only consistent good performance can convince such bees and if not, don’t worry as their reign always comes to a bitter end. I’m not proposing a sweet revenge but telling you to let nature take its course.

The biggest mistake women make is to quit their jobs when things are tough. This way they never taste the happiness of success and jobs well done that would surely be theirs a few years down the line. I never thought about quitting and somehow the struggling turned into greater challenges that I could have ever dreamed about. Hang in there for dear life and life will reward you!

Small, boring, seemingly unimportant details create a big beautiful picture. It’s not the brilliance of your work performance once in a while that matters the most: it’s your every day behavior that makes people want to work with you. If you’re always on time, if you’re polite, helpful, reliable, and you’re improving, you will be given more and more responsibilities because your colleagues will want you on their team.

Don’t be afraid of getting older! Many people, especially women, worry about aging but if I had a chance to be younger again, I’d say: No, thank you! My 20’s were exciting but they were all about hard work and mistakes. The 30’s were much better, as I understood my job and how to be a better mother and wife. My 40’s were fantastic as I had responsibilities as a team leader and from then on I feel that with every year I contribute more. That’s happiness.

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/mariko-bando

Interview by Judit Kawaguchi

Masatoshi Uchiumi,64, is a landlord in Tokyo’s trendy Jiyugaoka area. Divorced and living alone, six years ago he lost his eyesight due to an illness. Although he felt like giving up, he focused on widening his vision with lessons in karaoke, voice computer, haiku, English conversation and ballroom dancing. At the IFAC Cup Japan Blind Dance Championships 2006, the world’s first such competition for the blind, held in Tokyo on August 27th, he chassed up to the semi-finals. He says that with effort, for him things are always looking up.

Bad experiences make strong people. I was in my 20’s and already a manager dealing with big corporate clients’ claims. They were furious with our products and many refused to see me. I would sit silently in front of their company headquarters all night, just waiting for them to calm down and let me in. The job was awful and I did it for years without any complaints. I didn’t escape. That long struggle prepared me to deal with anything.

I find handicapped people too much of a challenge. I tried dating some but their victim consciousness was too much of a barrier.

The key to success is to find out how to excite people. A truly psyched up person is capable of amazing achievements. I was the second worst runner at school for four years straight. Then in the 5th grade, my mother offered me 1000 yen if won the 100 meter dash. I couldn’t sleep that night and ran straight to first place.

Getting blind was a real eye-opener. Once I lost my vision, the superficial things like sexy clothes and makeup, were all out of the sight and only kindness is left. I date wonderful people. My friends always tease me how some are so hot that the sidewalks are burning up as we walk, other times they warn me that the ladies scare the living daylight out of them. We have great laughs.

The boss should work hardest. I was 28 and had never cooked a meal yet. Still my dream was to own a restaurant so I quit my company job and opened a small joint. I watched the cooks and memorized how they prepared everything from sashimi to stews. I had about 50 employees over the years and I looked up to all of them.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I flew to Italy and stood in the Uffizi in front of Botticelli’s painting, The Birth of Venus, reconstructing it dot by dot, blink by blink. What a sight.

If one is blind, Japan is the place to be. It is so convenient here. Bathrooms are easy to use, trains are on time and arrive on different tracks, traffic lights and just about everything makes a sound.

Do not change your lifestyle if you get sick. I have been the new year-party organizer for the past 30 years. When I got blind, others thought they should help me but I am handling it just like before.

Singing is music to my eyes. I know over 200 songs by heart and as I get into each one, I feel as the characters in the song. Karaoke is a great escape.

I never give up, no matter what. In the first year at my English school I was so nervous that during class my whole body was shaking violently from the stress of not seeing or being able to read or write. One classmate recommended that I quit. But I stayed and still listen to English at least two hours a day.

Progress stops with welfare. I dislike the idea of welfare because it just makes people lazy and dependent. I’m always a fighting Tarzan, and a samurai dancer.

I’m always in good hands. Sometimes I have difficulty distinguishing the stairs from the train platforms. Last time I fell on the tracks people around me quickly pulled me out.

I am just a normal average guy but a bit more fun. I love the ladies but I keep falling for the same types over and over again. I can’t see why.

Being blind is like having a permanent jetlag without ever arriving anywhere. I still keep going.

Love is blind and that’s beautiful. I was 40 and she was 24. We were in love and when she got pregnant, we got married, even though her family was very much against our union. We have two children. I worked so hard all week and spent every weekend with her and the kids, going to amusement parks and hiking. I had no time off but I loved being with them. One day about 18 years ago she packed up the children and divorced me. She must have had her reasons.

A wife or husband should be a best friend first. A kind and funny person is the best partner.

Sunglasses keep us in the dark. People don’t notice that I am blind so I get yelled at and pushed around quite a bit. I often bump into walls and once I was thrown into one so hard that my left eyeball fell out of it socket and was dangling on the optic nerves. I had to hold it in my hand till I got to the hospital and the docs popped it back in.

Discrimination is good. I am still healthy enough so I can say this but maybe in a few years I will be dependent on others and change my mind. What’s next? I worry.

I am always out and about, happy to be alive. People tell me to stay at home and rest but I don’t see their point.

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/masatoshi-uchiumi

Interview by Judit Kawaguchi

Words to Live by–Eiichiro Amakasu, 70, is a carpenter who designs and builds traditional Japanese homes and their surrounding gardens. He is an expert of the sukiya style of residential architecture which is typical of Japanese tea houses. Amakasu is also a master of the kanna, the Japanese plane, which is one of the most important woodworking tools. Since 1997 he has been one of the organizers of Kezurou-kai, a yearly Japanese planing event that draws hundreds of carpenters from around Japan and some from abroad. Carpenters bring their own tools and wood and demonstrate various carving techniques. Amakasu’s skill with the kanna always wins him crowds and the respect of his peers as he slides off some of the thinnest, longest and widest shavings from the boards. A single shaving can be a few meters long and as thin as the diameter of human hair, or about 0.003 millimeters. Amakasu is not only famous for his kanna skills, but is well-known for his shyness and readiness to teach others the magic of woodworking. He is the model for the Edo era carpenter in Shuichi Sae’s novel, Edo shokunin Kitan.

Be picky about the type of work you accept! Sure, you might not get rich that way but you will improve your skills and develop a reputation for excellent taste and professionalism. The only jobs I accept are the ones that start with nothing or something great. I used to get offers to renovate family homes that were built 10 or 20 years previously. I refused those because the only way to fix such buildings was to demolish them and start from scratch, but that’s not what the owners had in mind. For many years I had no income for six months or more but I did not change my philosophy.

If you bring the women to your side, you’ll be OK! Wives decide everything in Japan so as long as we get along with them, the job is easy.

Tools are family. I keep them for life. When my blades get very small, just a few centimeters, I put them neatly in boxes and keep them at home as my treasures. At night, I open those boxes and look at my old blades. This is my healing time. Better than TV! If I get a headache, I take out my box and once I see the little blades, my pain is gone.

Wonderful assignments are worth waiting for. In 2009 I was invited to create a traditional Japanese chashitsu or teahouse at the Ashmolean Museum of Art and Archaeology at the University of Oxford. We built the whole structure in Japan, then we took it apart, shipped it to Oxford and put it together there. This way of working is usual even in Japan but it was my first experience rebuilding one abroad.

Unless we keep polishing our skills and techniques, they get lost. Ise Jingu, our most sacred Shinto shrine complex, located in Mie prefecture, was established 2000 years ago and records show that it has been rebuilt every twenty years for the past 1300 years. Some people might wonder why the buildings and the bridge must be rebuilt so often. One reason is the idea of renewal which is central to Shintoism. The other is that this is the only way to ensure that the engineering, woodworking and art techniques that are used here are passed onto the next generation of artisans. This is what has been keeping Japanese art and carpentry alive.

If the home is good, the job goes well. When a wife is always in a good mood and creates a peaceful home, the husband is happy and can concentrate on his mission. He will definitely succeed. Since we met 40 years ago, my wife has been such a woman. She is my everything. She even prepares the best bento for me every day.

Don’t stand out; leave that for your work. I never liked sticking out. I prefer to be quietly working in the background. But when I use my kanna, people gather around me. That’s the only time I can stand attention because I am happy to share my technique.

My wife made me into the man I am. That is what women do: they raise their men. She is seven years older than me but doesn’t even look more than 50. Beautiful! And she is always laughing, always positive. That is what turned me from a morose carpenter into a man that usually has a smile on his face. Her words always ring in my ear: “ Be kind. Smile at people. Just relax. Stay calm. All is OK.” Guess what? It is. Thanks to her.

If you do a good job, you don’t need to advertise. Your work becomes the ad. Every home I built was requested by someone who has seen my previous buildings or have heard of me from others.

Bad at business should be a compliment. That’s me. I always keep my own thinking and I don’t do anything just for money. I work for beauty, this is why I only accept amazing commissions. They might be very expensive homes but I use up the budget for materials that nobody would dare ordering. I want a masterpiece and I want to be proud of my work. This is why all my clients turn into lifelong friends.

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/eiichiro-amakasu

By age twenty-five, mountain climber Ken Noguchi grabbed the title of the youngest person ever to climb the seven highest peaks on seven continents. With that challenge out of the way, he decided that as long as he was on top of the world, he could do more than just admire the view: he could actually change it for the better. He started to carry things down and today he is known as the earth’s top garbage man. He says he cleans much more than the peaks. The climber talked to Judit Kawaguchi.

JK: What does mountain climbing mean to you?
Ken Noguchi :That’s a tough question. On the mountain, everything becomes very simple, and I feel like I am the real me, very much within my core. I guess the higher I go, the more I feel grounded. In the city I am overwhelmed by way too much information and stimuli but during climbs I don’t use my head anymore, well, at least a lot less that in the city, and I feel with my heart. I become spiritual and open. With every step, I cleanse my system and even my sense of smell heightens, exactly because there are no smells on the mountain. There are no plants, no living things so the body longs for smells but there aren’t any. As I climb, the sound of my steps echo inside of me and I feel very much in control of my own destiny.

JK: Even though, with each step you are more and more at the mercy of nature.
KN: Yes, that’s so beautiful about the whole thing. I guess I give myself up to the power of nature and this sets me free. On the Himalayas, each expedition lasts about two months and after a month or so up there, I notice that I actually have ears, that my hearing is sensitive enough to hear the silence. The mountain is a very dangerous place, rocks fall left and right, any moment an avalanche might swipe us away, and our bodies respond to this constant fear by sharpening our senses: it is simply for self-preservation. Believe me, up there all I think about is survival and how I want to stay alive and be back in Tokyo, as soon as possible. All the important answers come to me there, which I am unable to formulate in the city.

JK:What sort of revelations came to you while on a mountain?
KN:For example on Mount McKinley in Alaska, when I was nineteen, I walked all alone on a glacier. There was not a soul around and suddenly I noticed something small and black in the snow ahead of me. I got closer and realized it was a tiny bird, dead and frozen and I immediately knew that the bird and I were the same: tiny and fragile and that our size difference was so minute in the big scope of things. The two of us were the same size up in the mountain. Then and there I accepted that one day I’d be dead exactly like that little bird and suddenly I was free of all worries and complexes. The weight was lifted off my shoulders and since then I try not to sweat the small stuff. Thanks to that tiny bird, at age 19, the garbage from my mind and soul was gone and only the essential was left.

JK: So after nineteen, you don’t have any more worries?
KN:I do! Sure, I do and that is why I keep going back. In the mountain I am OK but once I come back, I get back into the same bad cycle.

JK:Sounds like you climb for self counseling.
KN:Exactly. In the city I create new problems and worries for myself so I must return to the mountain. In Tokyo I get all confused, I think too much and feel out of breath, it is like I am always running, both my feelings and my body are racing, so consequently I lose focus and get lost, but on the mountain I get my direction back. There I can get rid of my complexes.

JK:You are famous for cleaning mountains but you are also purifying yourself.
KN:Yes, I bring down other people’s garbage while I leave my own up there. Not the real physical stuff, but my emotional baggage.

JK:What complexes did you leave on mountains?
KN:Luckily I said bye to almost all of my demons already. I was a troubled boy, and my problems culminated in a two-month suspension at the Rikkyo School in the United Kingdom when I was sixteen. This was a tough boarding school and I was not a great student so I was the only kid in my middle school who couldn’t get into high school based on academic performance alone. Fortunately, the principle decided that I could advance as the temporary student. Imagine what a big shock and disappointment this was for my parents and me. At that time I thought I’d go to a good university but I was put on probation. I blamed myself a lot. Everyone called me “the temporary kid” and one day when an older boy bullied me again, I just snapped and punched him. I couldn’t help it and since I studied karate at the time, I guess I hit him kind of hard.

JK:Sounds like you were struggling with some other issues.
KN:My mother is Egyptian and she met my father who was a diplomat, when he was stationed in Cairo. She was just 19 at the time and although she spoke Japanese, once they moved to Japan, she had lots of stress because my father was busy and couldn’t be home for dinner every night. That is normal in Japan where people must work so hard and come home late, but for Arabs, dinner with the whole family is a really big deal and the women are very strong and demanding so my mother was always complaining. They divorced while I was away in boarding school.

JK:There was lots of movement in your childhood.
KN:Yes, lots. In kindergarten I spoke only Arabic but I am not very good at it now. I lived in Japan from age five till nine, then the next three years we were in Egypt and after that in the UK. After my suspension I was placed under house arrest and came back to Japan and my father recommended that I’d travel around. I went to Osaka to stay with my uncle and then visited Nara and Kyoto for the first time in my life. It was an eye-opener.

JK:How did you feel when you came back to Japan at age sixteen?
KN:I lived abroad for so long by then that Japan was like a foreign country to me. I had very fond memories and always wanted to be back because looking at Japan from far away I realized what a great country it was and how much I wanted to live here. I had difficulty living in Egypt and the UK, because I found both too hard to adapt to. So I was very excited to finally come back to Japan and very hungry to absorb Japanese culture. That is why I picked Kyoto and Nara and I loved them both but was taken aback by the lack of pride Japanese displayed towards their country. Most Arabs are very proud of their culture so for me that was a given but being in Japan, even now, I don’t feel that Japanese have enough pride, especially the young. I also see a lack of desire on the part of most Japanese to contribute to their nation.

JK:Why do you think Japanese lack pride?
KN:Japanese don’t know how to appeal and are not good at asking questions. For example, at school when the teacher asks questions, Japanese kids do not raise their hands but in Egypt, students are almost falling out of their seats to answer, to show that they know. This is missing here, even though many have the right answers. Also, Japanese travel abroad a lot but most don’t travel enough domestically, especially among the younger generation. Now the Japanese government invited many foreigners through its Yokoso Japan campaign which is great but how about recommending Japanese themselves to see their own nation? Unless we Japanese know more about our country, and feel pride in our heritage and achievements, how can we possibly attract foreigners? The first step in advertising Japan for tourism is not building hotels to accommodate the foreigners we hope to welcome but to educate the Japanese about the beauty of their own culture so they can introduce it to visitors.

JK:What aspects of Japan are you most proud of?
KN:The Japanese are very polite and extremely hardworking. The people are delicate and what they produce is sophisticated and beautifully detailed. The food is amazingly fresh and always beautifully presented. I can depend on people and trust their words. In Egypt everyone says “Inshallah,” which means “if Allah allows it or wills is”, but what that really translates into is that no deal or promise is 100%. There every conversation and business meeting ends with this expression which is kind of nice because it shows that people are relaxed about life but at the same time, I never know if the other person will follow through or not. In Japan, people keep their words. And they are punctual. I love that! I also find that Japan is very open-minded. For example, we celebrate Christmas, then on New Year we pray at Shinto shrines and we arrange funerals at Buddhist temples.

JK:What bothers you here?
KN:Since I came back at sixteen, I have the same trouble: I love looking at Japan from abroad. That is why I need to go back and forth, I leave Japan, then return, go away, come back. I am married with a small child so I am very concerned about education. I don’t like the strong emphasis the Japanese put on study, particularly the type one does while sitting by a desk. I believe in going outdoors and want both children and adults to go out more into the fields.

JK:When did you start climbing?
KN:The trigger was when in Kyoto I stumbled upon adventurer Naomi Uemura’s book. I was amazed by his efforts and also saw similarities between his childhood and mine, especially because he was not so good at communication in his young age, which rang so true for me, too. I saw that there was another way of life and I wanted it to be mine. That winter I climbed Mount Fuji and I was hooked. I knew I wanted to challenge all the top mountains on the seven continents.

JK:What was next?
KN:The following summer and winter vacations I climbed Mt. Mont Blanc and Mt. Kilimanjaro with my father’s backing. However, he told me that if I wanted to keep climbing, I had to find sponsors myself because he was not going to help anymore. He was right: collecting money is the first step of the adventure process. I entered Asia University in Tokyo and I spent all my free time calling companies, as many as 146 in one stretch, but got rejected 146 times because I was nobody, just a young guy after a dream. I kept sending them info and also wrote letters to newspapers begging them to interview me. Once a teeny-tiny mention of me appeared in a newspaper, some companies agreed to meet and I finally got some sponsors.

JK:What were your next targets?
KN:I was in a hurry because in order to get sponsorships, I had to be the youngest person on record to climb all the top peaks on the seven continents. Everything went according to plan till I tried Mount Everest at age twenty-three and failed. The same thing happened the following year but on my third try, at age twenty-five I finally made it. I was on top of the world!

JK:How did you feel on top of Mount Everest?
KN:Scared. Accidents usually occur during descent so standing there was very frightening. All I could think of was what could go wrong from that moment on. Maybe 300 out of 1000 climbers die so I lost my confidence to go back to the last camp. Helicopters can not go higher than 6000 meters so the only way down is walking. I just wanted to be back to the base camp or better yet, walking around in Tokyo. Every time I climb, I swear that I would never go back to the mountain. Then I come back to Tokyo and enjoy the bath, which I missed so much for two months, also the food, and all the comforts and after a few months that warm, thankful, happy feeling disappears and I want to go back to nature again. I keep doing this cycle, endlessly.

JK:You’re stuck in a bad spiral but you don’t really want to escape either.
KN:Yes, exactly. I am 100 percent sick and I wish I could get well. And now I am on a mission because the image of Mt Everest is so gorgeous and clean but the reality is that the mountain is still a heap of garbage so I feel that I must keep cleaning it.

JK:Who are helping your clean-up efforts?
KN:Of course the sherpas, but the hardest part was to convince them to join me because they all said that they were ready to die for adventure but not for garbage. I agreed but still wanted to go ahead with my plans so I promised we would only move in good weather and take lots of precautions. Nepal is a developing nation so their main concern is development and not so much the protection of nature. As I talked about nature conservation, somehow the sherpas got convinced that carrying the garbage down from the mountains was a worthy cause. But we must go up to 8000 meters, to the last camp, pick up our load and walk down, then go up again, and we just keep doing this for about two months. We can only carry down one or two oxygen canisters, because one weighs eight or ten kilos empty.

JK:Going up and down so many times must be very hard on the body.
KN:It is the worst, so once we are done, my face is so brown, the color of dirt, and not from the sun, and my whole body is full of horrible rashes. My doctor said my blood was so dirty because the circulation slowed down. I usually lose over 17 kilos, going from 76 kilos to under 59. The second time I went back to clean Mt Everest, I was told that one sherpa died in some kind of disease a month or so after our first cleaning expedition. The same sad news waited for me after the second year. Then in 2002, after the third cleanup, I was also bleeding heavily through my rear-end and was hospitalized for 2 month. This was when I finally realized that they passed away because of our cleaning effort and not due to another illness. Once I was discharged, I immediately returned to Nepal and told them that we should quit because human life was the most precious. To my surprise they said they wanted to keep cleaning the mountains. They were already cleaning their villages, too and they were recycling. They all think Mt. Everest is Nepal’s symbol and they want it cleaner. So in 2003 we cleaned it again, then took three years off.

JK:What are you doing this year?
KN:From April we clean Mt. Manaslu, which is 8163 meter tall. The reason I picked this mountain was because it was a Japanese group that reached its summit for the first time so the Nepalese call it Japanese Mountain. This happened 50 years ago and we celebrate it by cleaning it up a bit and also by making at attempt to reach its summit.

JK:Do you consider yourself more of a climber or an ecological worker?
KN:I’m a climber who moved into the ecology field but I am still a climber first and last.
I encourage people to go out into the countryside, visit little villages and talk to the local people, taste their fresh local foods and enjoy nature. In 2003 I started a camp, the Ken Noguchi Environmental School, where participants between the ages of six and twenty-two stay at six locations in the countryside and even just four or five days out there make a difference in their understanding of nature.

JK:Who are your greatest teachers?
KN:Elderly people are the keepers of culture and I feel very strongly about learning from them and passing their knowledge onto the younger generation.

JK:You also clean Mt. Fuji with volunteers.
KN:In 2000 we started with just 100 or 200 people but since every summer 300, 000 climb it, the garbage they leave behind is substantial. We clean about ten or twelve times each season, between June and November and last year we had about 3600 volunteers from all over Japan. Most of the garbage is actually gone from the middle of the mountain to the top. Once the mountain is clean, people don’t want to dirty it so they all carry down their own garbage. The good point of Japan is that people jump at an opportunity to be part of a trend so it is easy to gather people. Once one takes action, it is easy to find volunteers.

JK:What are your plans?
KN:To create a society that not only makes less garbage but also protects its nature more. I often travel around Japan and see how the countryside is filled with elderly people while the young move to work in the big cities. I think eco-tours could be a viable business option to keep young people in the countryside so I am working on this system with Tokyo governor Shintaro Ishihara. We also created park rangers who are specialists to protect nature and we hope to extend this to many parts of Japan. Now we have about ten of them in Tokyo city and I am their leader. We also have rangers on Mt Fuji.

JK:What is the greatest threat to humans?
KN:It’s global warming, for sure. In the cities it is hard to notice it but on the mountains it is obvious: in the past five years the number of avalanches increased tenfold. I lost many friends. Imagine a wall of snow 150 meters tall coming at you, increasing in size with every centimeter: that is global warming and unless we take action right now, it will swallow us all up.

A version of this interview appeared in Skyward Magazine in 2006.

judittokyo.com/others/ken-noguchi

Interview by Judit Kawaguchi ( 2008 winter)

Until his death in 2017, Dr. Shigeaki Hinohara was one of the world’s longest-serving physicians and educators. Hinohara’s magic touch is legendary: From 1941 until 2017 he was healing patients at St. Luke’s International Hospital in Tokyo and teaching at St. Luke’s College of Nursing. After World War II, he envisioned a world-class hospital and college springing from the ruins of Tokyo; thanks to his pioneering spirit and business savvy, the doctor turned these institutions into the nation’s top medical facility and nursing school. Until his death he served as chairman of the board of trustees at both organizations. Always willing to try new things, he published around 150 books since his 75th birthday, including one “Living Long, Living Good” that has sold more than 1.2 million copies. As the founder of the New Elderly Movement, Hinohara encouraged others to live a long and happy life, a quest in which no role model is better than the doctor himself.

Energy comes from feeling good, not from eating well or sleeping a lot. We all remember how as children, when we were having fun, we often forgot to eat or sleep. I believe that we can keep that attitude as adults, too. It’s best not to tire the body with too many rules such as lunchtime and bedtime.

All people who live long — regardless of nationality, race or gender — share one thing in common: None are overweight. For breakfast I drink coffee, a glass of milk and some orange juice with a tablespoon of olive oil in it. Olive oil is great for the arteries and keeps my skin healthy. Lunch is milk and a few cookies, or nothing when I am too busy to eat. I never get hungry because I focus on my work. Dinner is veggies, a bit of fish and rice, and, twice a week, 100 grams of lean meat.

Always plan ahead. My schedule book is already full until 2014, with lectures and my usual hospital work. In 2016 I’ll have some fun, though: I plan to attend the Tokyo Olympics!

There is no need to ever retire, but if one must, it should be a lot later than 65. The current retirement age was set at 65 half a century ago, when the average life-expectancy in Japan was 68 years and only 125 Japanese were over 100 years old. Today, Japanese women live to be around 86 and men 80, and we have 36,000 centenarians in our country. In 20 years we will have about 50,000 people over the age of 100.

Share what you know. I give 150 lectures a year, some for 100 elementary-school children, others for 4,500 business people. I usually speak for 60 to 90 minutes, standing, to stay strong.

When a doctor recommends you take a test or have some surgery, ask whether the doctor would suggest that his or her spouse or children go through such a procedure. Contrary to popular belief, doctors can’t cure everyone. So why cause unnecessary pain with surgery? I think music and animal therapy can help more than most doctors imagine.

To stay healthy, always take the stairs and carry your own stuff. I take two stairs at a time, to get my muscles moving.

My inspiration is Robert Browning’s poem “Abt Vogler.” My father used to read it to me. It encourages us to make big art, not small scribbles. It says to try to draw a circle so huge that there is no way we can finish it while we are alive. All we see is an arch; the rest is beyond our vision but it is there in the distance.

Pain is mysterious, and having fun is the best way to forget it. If a child has a toothache, and you start playing a game together, he or she immediately forgets the pain. Hospitals must cater to the basic need of patients: We all want to have fun. At St. Luke’s we have music and animal therapies, and art classes.
Don’t be crazy about amassing material things. Remember: You don’t know when your number is up, and you can’t take it with you to the next place.

Hospitals must be designed and prepared for major disasters, and they must accept every patient who appears at their doors. We designed St. Luke’s so we can operate anywhere: in the basement, in the corridors, in the chapel. Most people thought I was crazy to prepare for a catastrophe, but on March 20, 1995, I was unfortunately proven right when members of the Aum Shinrikyu religious cult launched a terrorist attack in the Tokyo subway. We accepted 740 victims and in two hours figured out that it was sarin gas that had hit them. Sadly we lost one person, but we saved 739 lives.

Science alone can’t cure or help people. Science lumps us all together, but illness is individual. Each person is unique, and diseases are connected to their hearts. To know the illness and help people, we need liberal and visual arts, not just medical ones.

Life is filled with incidents. On March 31, 1970, when I was 59 years old, I boarded the Yodogo, a flight from Tokyo to Fukuoka. It was a beautiful sunny morning, and as Mount Fuji came into sight, the plane was hijacked by the Japanese Communist League-Red Army Faction. I spent the next four days handcuffed to my seat in 40-degree heat. As a doctor, I looked at it all as an experiment and was amazed at how the body slowed down in a crisis.

Find a role model and aim to achieve even more than they could ever do. My father went to the United States in 1900 to study at Duke University in North Carolina. He was a pioneer and one of my heroes. Later I found a few more life guides, and when I am stuck, I ask myself how they would deal with the problem.

It’s wonderful to live long. Until one is 60 years old, it is easy to work for one’s family and to achieve one’s goals. But in our later years, we should strive to contribute to society. Since the age of 65, I have worked as a volunteer. I still put in 18 hours seven days a week and love every minute of it.

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/dr-shigeaki-hinohara

Dr. Koichi Ito is an endocrine surgeon and the best-known and most sought-after Japanese authority on the management of thyroid diseases. He is also the third-generation owner of Ito Hospital , ranked as Japan’s most progressive thyroid-care medical center. Physicians all over Japan refer their patients to Ito Hospital in Tokyo’s Omotesando for its world-class care. In 2009, out of the 277,471 outpatients, 10,000 were referrals. The workload here is heavy: On an average day, the 20 physicians and 18 nurses on duty might see 1,000 to 1,400 outpatients. Yet a visit to Ito Hospital is not a painful experience. While the staff work with lightning speed, supported by an efficient computer system, they are renowned for their kindness, and surely much of this must be down to three generations of the Ito family’s humane attitude toward patients.

It’s therapeutic to keep the memory of our loved ones alive. One of our colleagues, Dr. Takashi Mimura passed away one year ago, at age 77. We made his desk into a little shrine. We put all the things he loved on it — beer, cigarettes, his favorite sweets — and lots of photos of us with him. No other person will use that desk. He is with us forever. His desk is near the entrance so we say hello and goodbye to him every day. It’s like he’s still with us, but he’s off that day.

Once people are traumatized, the psychological scars might heal but certain issues will remain sensitive. Radiation therapy is very strictly regulated in Japan because of our tragic history, being the only nation to suffer from two separate atomic bombings. In Japan, the government limits the maximum dose of radioiodine (iodine-131) — the substance we use to treat cancer patients — to 500 MBq per person per day, while most countries allow 1,110 MBq for standard therapy. Also, we must hospitalize patients undergoing iodine-131 treatment, while abroad, outpatient care is possible. The idea that a patient undergoing therapy might emit harmful gamma rays and affect others is still extremely strong in the minds of Japanese. The rules, however, severely limit the number of patients we can help and the speed of the procedure. We’ve lobbied for change, but so far it’s been in vain.

A person working in the field knows more than anyone at a design table. One of our physicians, Dr. Takehiko Tsuchiya, designed and made a machine for thyroid uptake tests. We collaborated with Toshiba to produce it for us and now it’s sold on the market. This is typical in Japan; here many people are amateur engineers who design and build their own machines. That’s why there’s such a variety of Japanese high-precision medical equipment.

Universal health care is a human right. Japan can be proud of its high-quality health-care system. Everyone is covered and the low prices are government-regulated so the same procedure costs the same all over the country. This is wonderful for patients as it provides an extremely people-friendly medical system, where everyone gets equal treatment. I’m not surprised that nowadays many tourists visit Japan for medical care.

Predictions are often wrong. In the 1970s, we were told that by 2010 Japan would have more physicians than available positions. And look what happened! Japan is struggling with a shortage of doctors. One reason is that people are living longer than we imagined; another reason is that many female doctors quit the profession after getting married. Nobody could have predicted the current situation back then.

Women patients often prefer female doctors. We conducted extensive research and discovered that this is the case. So, since the 1990s we’ve been hiring more female physicians. Today half of our doctors are women, but since 90 percent of our patients are female, we still have a long way to go.

You understand others’ feelings when you’re in their shoes. My father had a heart attack four years ago and suddenly I wasn’t a doctor but the son of a patient. I was shocked at the amount of paperwork I had to do: lots of release forms in legal lingo I could barely comprehend. It made me feel really sad. I realized how much Japan had changed. These types of contracts don’t match the Japanese spirit, which is based on trust, not signatures. I signed them all, but it dawned on me that our hospital had to follow the trend and provide such forms to our patients too.

Not only can we learn from mistakes but we also can teach others how not to make them. In 12 years, we had four malpractice claims against our hospital. We won every case, but it took a lot of time and we lost some confidence. Instead of hiding these experiences, I share them with other doctors because I think that we must keep everything transparent and out in the open in order to further protect our patients and ourselves.

The joy we get from helping and healing people keeps most of us doctors healthy and working until late in life. The beauty of our profession is that we can help people as long as we are healthy ourselves. My father is 87 and works full-time. So are my professors in Japan and those in the United States. My mentor, Dr. Edwin L. Kaplan at the University of Chicago Medical Center, is 74 and performs 220 surgeries a year.

Just because you have no symptoms, it doesn’t necessarily mean you are healthy. In Japan, one in every 10 women over age 40 has some sort of thyroid abnormality. Many of these abnormalities are so mild that the sufferer can live a healthy life without any symptoms or treatment, but some eventually develop into serious diseases. Catching such problems early is crucial. That’s why in Japan, a thyroid examination is part of the routine yearly health check.

Some forms of cancer are not scary anymore. The 20-year survival rate after diagnosis of thyroid cancer is an incredible 95 percent! Hearing such good news certainly helps the healing.

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/dr-koichi-ito

Interview by Judit Kawaguchi

Wang Jia Liang is a travel agent at IH Travel in Tokyo. A specialist in outbound travel, for the past 27 years Wang has been arranging airline and hotel reservations as well as creating unique itineraries for foreigners and Japanese traveling from Japan. Before marrying a Japanese and moving to Tokyo in 1990, Wang worked as a travel agent and tour conductor in China for 11 years. His vast knowledge of every nook and cranny of China earned him the rare honor of being selected as a model worker among his 750 colleagues. In Tokyo, Wang is well known as a trusted travel agent and a most patient concierge who saves travelers time, money and lots of stress.

Building a new factory doesn’t create job opportunities anymore, except for the construction industry. We took a factory tour in Japan. During our visit we saw that the lines were moving but we didn’t see any workers in the building. We were told that this huge factory was operated by only two people! The rest of the work is done by robots. The future is already here, right now, in Japan.

Having too many choices is constrictive. At first, the Internet eliminated the need for travel agencies, since online, anyone could act as their own travel bureau. It’s fun to sit at a computer and look for the best routes and deals. I know! I love doing that all day. But there are so many choices. Browsing is enjoyable if you are just gathering information, but if you need to make a choice and a reservation, many people feel trapped in the maze of options and want an expert to help them navigate their way out. We get many such first-time callers. Once we guide them out of the labyrinth, they never venture back in again. They hold on to us for dear life.

Reserving online might be easy, but once you’d like to cancel or make some changes, there is nobody to talk to you, nobody to help you. You’re on your own, and for many people that’s not enough.

Becoming a travel agent was my childhood dream, because in those days this was one of the most exciting jobs a Chinese person could possibly get. It meant free travel around China and meeting foreign visitors. I worked for the China International Travel Service from 1978-1989 and was in charge of inbound travel. Foreigners weren’t allowed to travel around China freely; they had to hire one of the government guides like me. I had the best job and the greatest lifestyle! My rent was less than the equivalent of $1 a month and my starting salary was $8. The best clients were the Japanese, as they were the kindest.

To have a clean city, all you need is well-behaved citizens. Japan has no street cleaners and very few garbage cans yet the streets are spotless because nobody litters. Japanese people even carry their garbage home from the park.

Propaganda only works as long as people can’t travel abroad to see reality with their own eyes. Basically everyone who travels to Japan falls in love with the country. The Japanese people are so kind and friendly and the country so beautiful and well-developed that even those Chinese tourists who believed the Chinese government’s anti-Japanese propaganda completely transform into fans of Japan! Nothing is more convincing than seeing something with one’s own eyes.

Japanese service is the best in the world. Here is just one example to illustrate how amazing it really is: We were going to stay at a ryokan (Japanese-style hotel) with my friends. It was raining as we were approaching the building when the staff appeared in front of us holding umbrellas over our heads. They bowed and apologized for the rain as if it was their fault. The staff didn’t hold umbrellas over their own heads, only above ours. Once inside, they presented us with three bottle of delicious Japanese sake. They said they were sorry the weather was so bad on the day we arrived. My friends just couldn’t believe their eyes. And this was not an expensive ryokan, just an average place in the countryside. Such attentive and kind welcome is normal in Japan but I’ve never experienced it in any other country.

Even if you have a lot of money, stay at simple places to get a feel for the country. Luxury hotels are wonderful but similar everywhere in the world. That’s why I recommend tourists to stay at a minshuku. These family-run bed-and-breakfast places are excellent value and a wonderful way to experience life at a Japanese house.

The Japanese toilet is the pride of Japan. China is the world’s second biggest economy and its citizens feel great pride in their country. But only until they use the Japanese toilet. Once in there, they fall in love with Japan more as they recognize that only gentle, caring and smart people could design such a wonder. The gorgeous design, the cleanliness, the various rooms for children, the elderly, for people with disabilities: It’s just amazing! It’s the essence of Japan. My friend’ son said he thought that maybe in 50 years China can reach that level. I hope so!

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/wang-jia-liang

Interview by Judit Kawaguchi

Eighty-five-year-old Hideo Suzuki is a reluctant survivor. A former tokkotai (Special Forces Unit) member of the Jinrai Butai (Thunder Gods Corps), Suzuki volunteered to be the pilot of an Ohka, a manned rocket-powered aircraft, during World War II, or the Great Asia Pacific War, as it is called in Japan. For sailors on U.S. warships in the Pacific, the Ohka was the most feared suicide bomber. Suzuki became an Ohka pilot because he was convinced that the only way to quickly end the war was to cause massive damage to U.S. military targets. His hope was that news of such attacks would enrage the American public, triggering antiwar demonstrations in the United States that would lead to the end of the war and save the lives of Japanese citizens as well as U.S. militarymen. Before Suzuki could fly on a mission, though, the war ended. Feeling great shame for having survived, he decided to honor his comrades by living long and dedicating himself to rebuilding Japan. Still passionate in his opinion about the war and its results, he keeps his fellow soldiers’ memory alive, often visiting Yasukuni Shrine.

I wished I had died as an Ohka. For months, I kept seeing my comrades off. They all smiled as they boarded the plane, thinking that we would soon meet in Yasukuni Shrine. Our impending deaths did not feel like a sacrifice but more as a chance to do something good for others.

Attacks on civilians are unforgivable. War should be fought only among soldiers. I get angry when I hear Japanese bombers mentioned together with terrorists who attack civilians. We Japanese tokkotai only aimed at military targets. That is the complete opposite of terrorists.

Sitting down today will make it harder to stand up tomorrow. I try not to take it easy in my daily life. For example, I don’t sit down on the subway, because resting weakens the muscles, which would ultimately cause me to get older faster. I stand straight to stay strong.

There are circumstances in which you, me, anyone would willingly give up their life. I wished I had died in an Ohka. For months, I kept seeing my comrades off. They all smiled as they boarded the plane, thinking that we would soon meet in Yasukuni Shrine. Our impending deaths did not feel like a sacrifice but more a chance to do something good for others.

Karoshi (sudden death from overwork) attacks those who hate their jobs. People who are reluctant to work have a lot more stress than those who love their jobs and feel happy about contributing to society. I worked very hard every day till my retirement at age 70 and I was never sick and never sick of it.

Japan had no way to win The Pacific War. The incredible power imbalance between the U.S. and Japanese forces was obvious to all of us. For example, in 1944, the United States produced 209 times more oil and 100 times more tanks than Japan. And for every Japanese bullet fired, 524 U.S. bullets were fired back. By 1944, the U.S. air arsenal was 8.6 times bigger than the Japanese one, so Japan came up with the idea of suicide bombers to speed up the end of the war.

Camaraderie — especially in the military — is a powerful force. Soldiers often want to die together. The pilot sat in the Ohka, which was carried under the belly of a much larger mother plane. Smaller aircraft surrounded the mother plane to protect the Ohka from enemy fire. Once a U.S. aircraft carrier was spotted, the Ohka was released and the pilot navigated it, dodging enemy fire, as it glided at up to 600 kph without an engine, before firing its rocket engine and crashing into its target. The explosion was enormous because the Ohka’s tiny 6-meter body was filled with around 1,200 kg of explosives. At that point, the mother plane would turn back and pick up another Ohka, but sometimes the seven other airmen aboard decided to follow the Ohka and also crashed into the U.S. ship. They wanted to cause even more damage to it, and since they had trained together with the Ohka pilot, they wanted to join him.

Tokkotai members were not crazy, brainwashed suicide bombers. Many of us thought that since Japan had won the Russo-Japanese War in 1905, we were going to win this one, too. But as early as 1943, when I was a student at Waseda University, top navy officials had come to our school and told us that even though Japan was winning at the time, if the war lasted another two years, we would surely lose.

Victors write their own version of history — and we are all losers if we believe them. As if the cruel firebombing of Japan’s cities were not enough, the U.S. dropped the nuclear bomb on Hiroshima. The fact that a completely different type of nuclear weapon was later used on Nagasaki is evidence that the U.S. was performing a most evil scientific experiment on the Japanese people. Yet even now the U.S. insists that the atomic bombs saved lives. It’s a preposterous idea that has been repeated so many times that many people accept it as truth! I certainly do not.

In a marriage, one must feel responsible for the other’s happiness. When my wife and I were introduced 56 years ago, we were not in love immediately. But I thought that if I were upright, responsible and faithful, she would be able to love me. I was right. She is always so kind and supportive, and I simply adore her. Of course, I never pronounce this, but she feels it through my actions. We both make efforts to behave so that we never have to feel shame or regret. I always think of her parents, how much they loved her and wished her to be happy. We still go on dates to Ueno Zoo, where we went the first time we met. We are head over heels in love.

I’m glad I was pushed into getting married. I was 29 and not very interested in tying the knot when my boss told me that in order to get promoted, I would need to be married. The thinking back then was that married people were inherently more responsible than single folk and therefore could be trusted more in the company, too. I am not promoting that idea at all, but I certainly got lucky thanks to it.

Japan is still an occupied nation. The U.S. did a great job at deboning the Japanese until most have no spine, no guts and no strength left in them. They couldn’t do much to my generation, but the younger Japanese are as weak as one can get.

Hanging out with older and much younger people is rejuvenating. I have two close friends who are both 97 years old and who often call me to play golf or the board game Go with them. Because of their age, I always say yes to their invitations. Hey, if they can still swing a golf club, so must I! I also have friends in their 30s who are much fun to be with.

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/hideo-suzuki

Judit Kawaguchi had the pleasure of working with Croatian-French cinematographer, Radovan Tadic, on his documentary shot in Japan. I highly recommend that you see it if you have a chance! Everything by genius moviemaker Radovan Tadic is worth seeing!

Here’s the summary of the film:

Ten Easy Pieces:

Following the teachings of Roland Barthes this documentary tries to confront Eastern (Japanese) with Western culture and its set of values. In doing so, it uncovers sometimes familiar, other times disturbing links between various topics such as food and trains, tennis and espionage, psychoanalysis and S&M, vampires and young girls, myths and dreams, monsters and Vladimir Ilich Lenin.

Message from Judit:

Radovan Tadic is a fantastic Croatian-French cinematographer. He has brilliant screenplays in the works and he is a hardworking, super talented artist who –as most artists!!!—has difficulty finding sponsors.
If you or your organization would love to support a great artist: he is your man! Please contact me and I connect you two. Thank you and hope to hear from you!
xoxox
Judit

More about the film:

For Archipel 33 TV documentary “Ten Easy Pieces” also “A la recherche du future anterieur” (English title: ‘Future in the Past’) directed by Radovan Tadic,
Radovan and Judit Kawaguchi conducted interviews in Japanese and English with:
Professor Okonogi Keigo, the “Father of Japanese Psychoanalysis,” and professor at Keio and Tokyo International Universities
Nouvelle Kaiseki Ryori Chef Kenichiro Ooe (Park Hyatt Tokyo)
Doctor Tamaki Saito and his hikikomori patients (young people who refuse to leave their homes/rooms for years on end)
Teppanyaki Chef Murata Fujio at the Garden Restaurant in the Hotel New Otani (food prepared by the table on a large teppan by a masterchef –what does it all mean?)
Homeless in Shinjuku Park, how they live and where they come from
Shinkansen Designers, Mr. Tezeni Masamichi and Mr. Tetsuo Fukuda
Inochi No Denwa founder, Professor Yukio Saito (IND is Japan’s first and largest free telephone counseling line)
Osaka’s Bunraku puppet theater’s master puppet makers and puppeteers and their fantastic puppets

Ten Easy Pieces atarchipel :

Following the teachings of Roland Barthes this documentary tries to confront Eastern (Japanese) with Western culture and its set of values. In doing so, it uncovers sometimes familiar, other times disturbing links between various topics such as food and trains, tennis and espionage, psychoanalysis and S&M, vampires and young girls, myths and dreams, monsters and Vladimir Ilich Lenin.

Documentary of 83mn – Year of production: 2004
A coproduction Archipel33, Arte France with participation from Centre National de la Cinématographie and support from Procirep

direction Radovan Tadic
directors’s assistants Judit Kawaguchi and Thomas Schmidt

judittokyo.com/others/radovan-tadic

Interview by Judit Kawaguchi

Masahiro Murata, 44, is a hair and makeup artist whose salon, MaQueen , just behind the Kabuki-za theater in Ginza, is a sanctuary for both his loyal clients and staff. Murata loves people, and especially beauty in them, which he believes manifests itself in the way one treats others. As one of Japan’s top hairstylists, for five days a week he works almost 15 hours a day, and he spends the other two traveling around the country doing workshops for professional hairdressers in styling, perms and cuts. As famous for his technique and style, he is more about substance than anything else.

Many Japanese women want special treatment, regardless of whether they deserve it or not. I love women who care about others more than they do about themselves. That is the kind of beauty that will never go out of style.

Age is just a number — the higher it is, the better the person seems to get. Nothing is more attractive than people who are kind, caring and also look their best. They have a great atmosphere, and others just want to be close to them. That is sex appeal.

People who steal had their childhood robbed from them.I guess they are ill, and it is hard for them to get well. Once, in another shop, I worked with a guy who was taking cash out of the register. I didn’t confront him but invited him for dinner, where I asked about his upbringing, which, as I suspected, was troubled. I also talked about my life. He said he was lifting money off us and felt really bad about it. After that he tried to stop but couldn’t — it was a disease for him. Even his best intentions were not good enough.

Looking good is not for yourself but out of respect for others. Choose the proper look and hairstyle for every occasion.

Be toughest on yourself. People pick the easy way in or out, but I always choose the hardest possible route. This way when I succeed, my happiness is that much greater.

Effort does pay off, although it might take a long time to see results. The deshi (apprenticeship) system between master and student is very strict in Japan. For the first three to four years a hairdresser in Tokyo gets about 130,000 yen a month and works from 9 a.m. till 3 a.m., at least six days a week. The worst part is that you are almost never allowed to quit and open your own salon. In my 15 years in the industry so far, I have only seen one example besides mine where the stylist left his salon amicably.

Silence is full of meaning. My father was a carpenter and I helped him out in my teens. He used to drive me to the houses he built 10 or 20 years earlier, park the car, and we would just silently sit and stare at the buildings. He was checking if the structures were still safe because Japan has so many earthquakes that cause shifts in the ground. If he found something amiss, he contacted the owners; if not, we just drove home. We didn’t say a word but we sure were talking. He passed away four years ago, just when I was hoping to take him on trips.

True love sometimes has to lie. My parents divorced when I was six and I was raised by my father and his mother. She is 93 now and the most important person in the whole world to me. When I was a child and had a fever, she sat beside me all night, putting cold towels on my forehead. When my dad was hospitalized and we had no income, except the little money she had from selling sweets in her tiny candy shop, she would still prepare good meals for me. But she didn’t eat with me. She said she had eaten already. Actually, she hadn’t, because we were too poor, and she only had enough food to give me my portion, but she never let me know that.

A popular person is popular everywhere. He or she does more than others expect or hope for.

Your staff and customers are first. The owner always comes last. At night, I clean the whole shop, our tools, the toilet, everything. I just hope the staff follows and learns to care about the details as much as I do. I want them to feel thrilled to have become stylists and to be able work at my salon.

Japanese need to develop their personalities more. Many new clients want to look like a famous actress or model and ask me to copy their hairstyle and makeup. I encourage them to find their own style by asking many questions.

Never call in sick, unless you have a disease that others can easily contract. I try to stay healthy for others’ sake more than my own. This is my 15th year as a stylist, but I have never taken a day off because calling in sick causes too much trouble to both one’s coworkers and clients. Even when I have a headache, or stomachache or fever, I pretend that I am well. Nobody should know when I am in pain because then they worry about me.

Being a professional means continuing to study forever. Japanese never stop researching and studying. Every night after we close the shop, we continue experimenting and teaching our younger staff. This goes on till 3 a.m., then we go home and are back around 9 a.m.

Complexes are pretty simple. Sometimes they are just reflexes. Japanese want to be beautiful because we have strong feelings of inferiority, especially toward beautiful Caucasians, who are taller with longer legs and smaller faces. This is the driving force behind the well-dressed and put-together Japanese.

Bald is beautiful.Once the hair is gone, it is gone. Say goodbye and be proud that you have enough male hormones to have lost your hair.

Technique has to be shared.I keep teaching what I know because I think of this as my duty. Not only do I pass down what I already know, but I learn so much from students, too.

Body language expresses more than words can.Those who master skills quickly and well are good listeners. As I teach, I can tell instantly which students will master the moves fastest. Their posture shows attentiveness and alertness, they keep the perfect distance from the wig and have smooth, elegant movements.

Big plans require big action. Just planning is not enough — one must make the moves too.

Keeping the proper distance is the way to get really close. People come to a salon to look and feel better. Basically they need a place to rejuvenate. I listen to anything they say but I never dig deeper into their private lives.

A word from Judit: Whenever I look great, it is thanks to Murata san. If you see my pics in kimono, all those incredible hairstyles are created by him, too! On pics where my hair is a mess… that’s me, naturally!

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/masahiro-murata

Interview by Judit Kawaguchi

Kazushi Sato, 68, is the owner of Tsurunoyu Onsen, a hot-spring ryokan (traditional Japanese inn) in Akita Prefecture. Nestled within beech woods deep in the mountains, Tsurunoyu is surrounded by natural beauty — bears wander freely, feasting on mountain grapes, and edible wild mushrooms grow in enough abundance for Sato to pick them to serve at dinner. The ryokan’s traditional wooden buildings date back more than 100 years, and were carefully restored by Sato and his wife 30 years ago when they took over the establishment, but the ryokan’s history goes back further. It welcomed its very first guests in 1650. Between taking dips in the milky onsen waters, guests stroll among oil-lamp-lit thatched buildings and savor local dishes cooked in an irori (sunken hearth). It’s a relaxing experience that the Satos take pride in, and Tsurunoyu has been ranked many times as Japan’s most beautiful hot-spring resort. On a special Fuji Television program in 1998 about Japan’s top 100 ryokan, it was voted as number one for its location, its architecture and its service. In 2008, it was made a Registered Cultural Property by the national government, and a year later it was awarded five stars by the travel publication Kanko Keizai Shinbun. Fame has not gone to the Satos’ heads, however — the couple still humbly run around the grounds, keeping it clean and serving their guests.

Thanks to my wife, we have succeeded. No matter how tough life was, she stayed strong. We climbed the mountains every day to look for mushrooms and sansai (mountain vegetables) to serve our guests. We did this not only because such vegetables are delicious and local, but also because they were free. Back then, we experienced years when we wouldn’t see a guest for six months. But my wife kept on picking and smiling every day.

Nature is perfect; all we need to do is copy her. The Japanese carpenters who built the Horyu-ji Temple in Nara Prefecture — the world’s oldest surviving wooden structure, dating back to 607 — understood wood expansion and shrinking, which they considered when engineering the building’s construction. In the forest, the side of a tree that faces north is always the strongest, so when they built the temple they used the wood that faced north on the temple’s northern side. No wonder it’s still standing tall.

As long as the toilets are comfortable, people are happy — even in nomadic conditions. I first saw the Washlet (Japanese shower toilet) in the 1980s, and I immediately bought one for every restroom at the ryokan. I knew that as long as people had decent, clean toilets, they’d be happy staying in 100-year-old rooms.

Setting the right price helps create the perfect atmosphere. At an expensive place, it is difficult to really relax. Fifteen years ago, we were getting quite busy and we were advised to double our prices. But we refused. Our buildings are fantastic, but they were once accommodation for farmers. They are simple and made from inexpensive local wood. Our prices must match the quality of our buildings. Also, an onsen is a health spa and healing waters should be available to everyone, so it’s better that it’s not expensive.

Some laws are like instructions on how to destroy tradition. Japanese fire-prevention laws strictly forbid the construction of wooden hotels or ryokan. This is one reason why traditional Japanese architecture is disappearing. We exist because our buildings are older than the law, so it doesn’t apply to us. But any wooden ryokan built or renovated after the laws were created had to have its walls covered with mortar, supposedly to protect the structure from fire. If we could peel off these monstrosities, Japan would look more beautiful. We have smoke detectors and sprinklers now, yet the laws have not been amended.

The key to success — even globally — is to express local flavor as strongly as possible. Local food and customs make a trip enjoyable. Akita has it all: secret onsens tucked away in the mountains, Akita bijin (beautiful women) with skin like fresh snow, minyō folk songs, great sake, lots of good pickles, mushrooms and bears.

The forest is a great food basket. We pick mountain grapes and akebi (chocolate vine) fruit, and collect chestnuts and wild mushrooms to serve our guests. In the spring, we search for sansai. The air is delicious and moist and we get to share it with everyone, including the bears.

A country needs all kinds of people with all kinds of jobs. Japan is full of jobs that nobody wants. There’s work available along rivers, such as cleaning and fishing, and at ryokan, but it seems that everyone wants to live in Tokyo and sit at a desk.

Imperfections keep things from getting boring. The doors of our futon cabinets are made from chestnut tree. Each door is different because the grain of the wood is unique to each, and no two doors are perfectly aligned. Expensive ryokan and hotels would not allow such imperfections. They think of them as a drop in the quality of service. But actually, humans are more at ease looking at imperfect and natural objects than they are when faced with objects that are identical. It’s like having a beautiful wife who is boring, as opposed to one who may have slightly crooked teeth and a bit of a bent nose but is entertaining and bright.

If you use your hands too much, you destroy the atmosphere, but if you don’t touch anything, the environment will overwhelm you. I rarely cut our plants and trees. I only make small adjustments to keep them healthy, not for aesthetic purposes.

Healing is a slow process, but nowadays only the really sick can make time for it. Hot springs are places of healing for the body and the spirit. Our onsen has been used for toji, which is a traditional extended stay at a hot spring. Twice a year, farmers used to come to us and rest for 10 days to a month. We still provide room and board at very reasonable prices but few people can afford to take a week or more off work. Sadly, it’s only once they fall ill that healing takes priority and people go to hot springs for toji.

Great service is simple and customized. We let the trees grow naturally, so of course we give our employees the freedom to be themselves, too. They all have their own personalities and ways of talking, which is more interesting than a uniform service. We take it easy here, so that guests can, too.

A version of this interview appeared in the Japan Times

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/sato

Judit filmed koinobori making in Iwakura city, Aichi prefecture. This beautiful town is famous for cherry blossoms and its koinobori industry. Koinobori are carp streamers printed on cloth and starch is applied to give them a shiny finish. The excess starch is later washed off in the Gojo river in a what is called ‘Nobori Arai‘.

judittokyo.com/nhk-tv/judit-filming-koinobori-making

Judit loves wearing kimono!

Geisha taiken in Ito city, on the Izu peninsula in Tokai-kan,
where I learnt about ozashiki culture and the meaning of iki,
sang dodoitsu and danced as a geisha

judittokyo.com/nhk-tv/judit-kawaguchi-in-kimono

Interview by Judit Kawaguchi

Pierre Gagnaire is one of the world’s most famous chefs, whose Michelin three-star cuisine has been dazzling diners around the globe for decades. Gagnaire’s masterpieces earned him his first Michelin star in 1976, and since then food-lovers and more stars have been gravitating his way. Today a total of seven Michelin stars shine over him. Gagnaire, at 60, is full of energy and in constant motion, endlessly moving between his 10 restaurants around the world, including one in Tokyo’s ANA InterContinental Hotel. Guests at every Pierre Gagnaire restaurant are treated like royalty: They enjoy beautiful decor, magnificent cooking and impeccable service. It’s the dishes themselves, however, that are the biggest stars in Gagnaire’s galaxy — full of great stories, every bite has a punch line and every plate has a happy ending.

I’m very lucky that I am a little talented with my hands. One day I realized that, for me, it’s possible to tell a story with food. That’s all I know how to do. Only that.

Food is a way to give tenderness to people. I put all my love and energy into my dishes. For 42 years I’ve been trying to be honest and to define food as a part of life. My form of expression is cooking, but it’s not the food, it is the people (those who make it and those who eat it) who are the most important ingredients in life. And that’s the simple truth, no matter how elaborate my dishes get.

The best recipe for happiness is to give pleasure to others.I feel so good because I create little links between so many people with my cooking. When they eat my dishes, they feel something and somehow it all clicks: Through the meal, people connect to those who they share the dishes with. The food can also conjure up some memories that allow them to have conversations they might not have had otherwise. Food is a communication tool.

Love is serious. When my restaurant in Aoyama was shut down, I called my chefs’ moms to reassure them. “I’ll take care of your son. Please don’t worry!,” I told them. Every chef who works with me is my child, my son or my daughter. I feel responsible for them. I have these babies, these little orchids, in 10 hot kitchens around the world, so I must make sure they are thriving. I can’t just stay with one kitchen, I have to circle around and visit all of them.

Cooking is storytelling. I let the ingredients tell their own narrative. The vegetables, the fish, the fruit — they all talk to me. Hokkaido potatoes describe the farmers who watered them and Aomori apples paint a picture of the elderly couple who wrapped paper around each fruit to protect it from the cold. I speak their language, no matter which country those little potatoes or fruits are from. I listen and we make stories that take the form of different dishes. Once these stories are out on the plate, the guests also allow the food to talk. The dishes aren’t just consumed; the people who eat them add more character to each plate, so the creative process continues outside the kitchen, in the dining room.

My life is my work and my work is my life. I chose this way of living and I love what I do, but actually, I’m kind of like a prisoner. A happy one, but jailed because unless I worked as much as I do, I’d worry about the quality. But that’s always the dilemma of any professional. Before you make it and are doing very well, you have to work so hard. You assume that once you succeed, you can take time off, but those days of rest never come!

Only people excite me, not things. When I meet someone, I want to feel the person’s energy. That’s my life force.

To be a restaurateur, one must be part artist and part businessperson. If one is only an artist, it can be impossible to make it. This is because we put a price tag on pleasure. It seems infantile, but it must be done. Yet even at the level of our prices, we don’t make much money — good products are very expensive and our kind of cuisine, considering the talent behind it, is time consuming. A good meal has a lot of value but a small profit margin.

Food is nourishment for the soul and the mind, as well pleasure to the body. The first time I came to Tokyo, in 1984, I had already been working for myself for seven years. Japan was a revelation: My feelings about cooking were confirmed here. In Japan, food is not just food: It’s a philosophy, a garden, a poem, a sculpture, a way to something, a path to the universe. I tried to learn that. Since then I have had a very good relationship with Japan. Japanese people love detail and quality as much as I do.

Writers tell the same story in every new book they publish. If it’s a good one, we keep reading them. When I open a book, I fill myself on its atmosphere. That’s what I love — a book’s ambience. The story is just an improvisation around the same scenario. It’s the same for what I do, too: I offer a few hours of dreamtime, so that you forget the city that you are in and you’re transported to mysterious and magical places.

There are some nice, what I call “flat” people in the world, but I prefer working with those who have little stars in their eyes. That makes it all worthwhile. The earth is round, so get rounder — at least in spirit!

I hope there are some more stories in me. I’ll keep working as long as I can, and I hope that in the future my chefs and staff will use my name and continue my story — with the guests, of course. I hope there’s more to this story than what’s been written so far.

A version of this interview appeared in the Japan Times

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/pierre-gagnaire

Interview by Judit Kawaguchi

Horiyoshi III is revered by tattoo enthusiasts as possibly the world’s greatest horishi, or full-body tattoo artist. (Horimono are tattoos done purely for fun, while irezumi are tattoos that mark criminals.) Friendly and too cool for words, the 61-year-old loves digging his needle into people — he definitely gets under their skin while doing his beautiful works. Although Horiyoshi considers the human body as his canvas, he has published 10 books of artwork on both paper and skin. His latest collection of drawings, “36 Ghosts,” arrived in bookstores this month.

A master knows his own mistakes and wants to erase the evidence. I heard of a swordsmith who was dying and ordered his apprentices to find and destroy all the swords he had made when he was younger. I wish I could do that with some of my earlier tattoos.

One must suffer for beauty and for art. Normally women and artists experience such pain, but in my business it is the client, especially since it is illegal to use painkillers while tattooing. Although it’s a real pain to be poked at, the results are so amazing that people are happy to lie down to suffer for at least one hour a week for about two years.

Some things can never be fixed. Tattoos walk and talk, and the mistakes stay there forever. Of course, that is part of my past, and it reveals the process I am going through.

Every creature is beautiful, whether it is a whale or a spider; but for me the most beautiful is the human body. When I met German film director Leni Riefensthal 20 years ago, I complimented her on her photo book on the Nuba people in Africa. I think the Nuba have the world’s most balanced and gorgeous bodies, with long, muscled legs and amazing proportions.

For some, getting tattooed is healing. To get a full-body tattoo takes years of suffering, and that requires maturing as a human, learning to experience and overcome pain. It is as if with each piercing of the needle, they become stronger and more complete.

If you think you’ll regret it, don’t even think of doing it. Tattoos are serious business. They stay on, they mark you for life, so you had better think long and hard whether you are ready for such a body alteration.

The creatures I draw only come alive on somebody’s skin. This is why I never show my designs as so-called art. I draw simply for fun and to have samples to show my clients so they can pick a new design. The creatures depicted take the person’s breath away once they are on his or her skin — and then the two start breathing together, in unison. Human history alters the look of the animals and plants I paint, and when the person wearing them dies, so too do they.

Our lives belong to the young, and they must lead us. To do that, they need to know Japanese history and feel proud of their culture. Only then will they take responsible steps that are worth following.

Ghosts are real. I was painting one day in my Yokohama studio, when I saw a figure walk in. I turned to say hello and it disappeared into black powder. I told this to a psychic and he said that in the Meiji Era there was an execution ground where I live, so there were lots of ghosts wandering around my neighborhood.

Tattoos should only be seen in private. I have even tattoed the private parts of men. They are really upfront about it but, of course, only to a select few. That is how the whole body should be viewed: in secret.

It is pretty when you hide beauty. Japanese put the loveliest designs on the inside of our clothing so that it can only be peeked at, not stared at. Similarly, I only allow photos of my own body as I am proud — as a tattooist — to show my work. If I were not in this line of work, I would never show them to anyone, except my family and buddies who also have tattoos.

Matsuri — Japanese festivals — are the best time to feel unity with our fellow men. That is the only chance we have to see yakuza in their full-body horimono and not fear them. It is OK to stand next to them and even take smiling photos with the scariest guys. They transform into cute neighbors for one day. The same guy on any other day is scary. This is the special psychological state of the Japanese.

Horimono are cool as they have the smell of the outlaw. People are attracted to criminals because they are scared of becoming one. Fearsome equals strong, so we love such people.

Tattooing is part of our national tradition. I feel responsible for keeping the classical repertoire of Japanese designs alive, one prick at a time. The many magical creatures that I portray must not go extinct.

Ryu — the dragon — is mysterious. It doesn’t exist, but it feels like it should.

Studying is not for achieving promotions or improving your circumstances. Studying teaches us how to enjoy life, where to begin and end things and how to behave in between.

I respect all life forms, which means I think of others first, then myself. People who talk ill of others make me sick. My goal as a human being is to be nicer to others and care about them more than I care about myself.

Women have the power and the responsibility. They are stronger than men psychologically so they can act weaker just to make us feel bigger.

Men who have iki — or cool spirit — are scary. They are like hawks who hide their talons — they don’t need to show off their strength because they are secure in it. Such men never bully the weak.

Real beauty is often hidden. Young men want to show off: their manhood, muscles, jobs, women, cars and tattoos are all on display. As a man matures, he shows off less outside and learns to hide his beauty in his heart.

Women should not go to bed quickly. Men are wired to hunt. The longer we have to wait for the prey, the more we will see it as a treasure.

The same quality that we love about somebody might end up annoying us later on. So choose a partner who is good, as kindness can be forgiven, even in oversized proportions. My wife, Mayumi, loves animals and even after their death she puts food and drinks for them on the altar. I think she does too much, but this is exactly why I love her — she overdoes it but her heart is beautiful. So I just stay calm and quiet and remind myself that this is why I married her. She does drive me crazy, but I do not let her see it. That is a man, and that is love.

Those who help others without taking credit have my respect. I heard of a woman who sent money to a coworker but never told him she was the one who helped him out. Now that is what I call super-cool behavior.

A version of this interview appeared in the Japan Times

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/horiyoshi-iii

This article introduces the book I also worked on.
More about this later!

クールジャパンとモテる男の条件 グロス・ナショナル・タレントで見た、世界の中の日本

judittokyo.com/others/this-article-introduces-the-book-i-also-worked-on-more-about-this-later

Interview by Judit Kawaguchi

Marine, a 5-and-a-half year-old black Labrador retriever, just might be one of the world’s most unexpected heroines in the fight against cancer. Marine’s nose is capable of detecting 18 different types of cancer on a person’s breath and has already been mechanically replicated as a sensor the size of a mobile phone to detect breast cancer. The manufacturer, Seems Inc., is hoping to have the product on the market within six months and for under 10,000 yen. Marine’s supersensitive nose was discovered by her owner, Yuji Sato, 60, whose adoration for the dog opened his eyes to her incredible potential. Sato’s insatiable desire to experiment, matched with Marine’s love for him, have resulted in one of the more unusual, and fun-loving, research teams on earth.

Pets are the best healers. I used to take our smaller dogs to schools and nursing homes, and the minute the animals were placed on the knees of the very ill elderly or sick children, the pets’ healing power was apparent. Unfortunately Japan is so behind the rest of the world in this field. We are refused entry to most places and many doctors either do not accept or do not care that animals have beneficial effects on patients.

To develop your talent, you must exercise. Marine’s nose is sensitive but it is our daily exercise that makes her smelling ability exceptionally great. Every day I come up with new ideas to please her because her moods and my feelings are different daily so we never repeat things. One good exercise was buying two new glasses and letting her smell one after hiding the other on the beach among many other glass bins. She found the match immediately.

There is no manual for learning. I only graduated from high school — since then I have been working and playing around. I do not learn much from others, I have my own ideas.

To get scientifically correct data, science is not enough. I know how similar research to mine is done in Europe and in the United States: In an enormous lab, filled with million-dollar machines, a large number of staff — mostly PhDs — in white space suits work in a totally pristine environment where temperature, noise, humidity, wind and smell are all 100 percent controlled. A clean dog is let into the room where samples are placed and he or she is supposed to pick out the ones containing cancer. I, on the other hand, work in a messy beach house. Marine runs in to smell samples I place in boxes on the floor, and yet our results are super accurate and, with our help, the world’s first sensor that can detect breast cancer on human breath is already being produced. No wonder Marine and I are producing the best results: love and trust create a positive outcome, science does not.

Japanese are victims of bureaucrats who suffocate the population. When I first moved to the coast I was shocked by how many people died in the ocean every year, so I decided to train a few dogs to rescue drowning people and offered them for free to the lifeguard’s association. They loved the idea — for a lifeguard, working with a dog is the best combination: the dog drags a life preserver to a drowning person, who grabs it and is then pulled to safety by the dog. If the lifeguard swims alone to someone drowning, in their panic, the person often grabs the guard and not the life preserver, sometimes killing the rescuer. Yet the city government refused to allow the guards to pair with the dogs because, according to them, the dogs would dirty the beach. Even today, Japan has no system for lifesaving dogs.

Japanese are not good at communication so their pets develop psychological problems. Since many people rarely talk, pets cannot learn much from them. That is why dogs bark like crazy.

A dog’s smell is the greatest tranquilizer. Nothing calms me down more than my dog’s sweaty front paw. I smell it often during the day and before going to sleep. It is so sweet and the rubbery texture is great to touch. When I smell her paw, I am taken back to some ancient spot in my hypothalamus where life was all about feelings.

Even without money, one can produce incredible results. Japan is No. 1 in the world in cancer research even though neither the government nor the medical industry funds many research projects. I get no help, no money, no support from anybody, except a little bit from the sensor’s manufacturer. I cannot even get enough samples of cancer patients’ breath because, although doctors agree that cancer smells, they do not want to participate in my research. It seems that doctors do not care about saving lives, they just want to save their time. They look down on low-tech research involving a dog and an old man.

Dogs understand humans. My dog, Rose, would act according to what she heard us talk about. If we said we wanted a beer or some ice cream, she would just go and get it from the fridge. I guess she understood about 70 percent of our conversation. When she died, I felt as if my daughter had just passed away. I even wrote a book to her, titled “Rose ga Kureta Jinsei (The Life Rose Gave Me)” to tell her how blessed she made me feel.

To find happiness, we must throw away rational thoughts and follow our heart. I was making good money in Tokyo working in television and yet I quit and moved to the ocean with my wife and six dogs. I had no plan except to hang out in nature and play with them.

A version of this interview appeared in the Japan Times

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/yuji-sato-and-marine

Interview by Judit Kawaguchi

Mitsuo Tsuchida, 67, is a bilingual tax accountant and the founder of Tsuchida & Associates in Tokyo. He and his team help people of various nationalities file Japanese and U.S. tax returns, regardless of which country they may live in. As an Enrolled Agent of the IRS, he has the privilege and right to represent clients before the Internal Revenue Service of the United States. Tsuchida’s wide range of services, however, go beyond filing tax returns: With his team of experts, he assist clients from the cradle to the grave with financial advice.

Everyone is an artist. I provide tax services instead of writing music, but my life is still full of creativity. What we do for a living doesn’t matter. How we do it does. No matter the situation, we can choose whether to create a good or a disturbing experience for ourselves or others. I always try to make people feel better, not worse, even when I have to tell them bad news. I focus on finding solutions that are as creative as possible.

You get more by sharing than hoarding. According to some Buddhist teachings, heaven and hell are equally beautiful places and both are full of delicious foods. Yet people in hell are skinny and miserable. Do you know why? Because although in both places the chopsticks are very, very long, making it too difficult for people to pick up food with, and put it in their own mouths, those in heaven, feed each other, while people in hell just try to stuff their own faces.

Writing a will is a priority if you have someone you love and care about. Everyone knows that they may die suddenly, yet most people don’t prepare a will because they assume that without one, their assets will automatically go to their spouse or partner and their chil- dren. Not true. If a foreign national dies in Japan, his or her country and state laws take priority over Japanese law. The Japanese tax office will require the widow or widower to track down the dead spouse’s relatives around the world, and divide the assets according to his or her birth country’s laws. This procedure is extremely time- and money-consuming, and in some cases, 50 percent or more of the assets gets divided between relatives, while the rest goes to the surviving spouse. If the relatives are alive, they have a right to the assets, even if the deceased did not want them to receive anything. And if the relatives are dead, proof of their deaths must be submitted to the Japanese tax office.

Just imagine procuring death certificates for your spouse’s dead relatives, whether you have met them or not! Things aren’t any easier if the deceased spouse is a Japanese national. If there is no will, a portion of the assets automatically goes to the parents and siblings. If the couple had no children, the percentage that goes to relatives, not to the surviving spouse, is significant. Without a will, custody battles over children are also common between the surviving spouse and the parents or relatives of the deceased — especially if one spouse is a foreign national. And same-sex couples, face special difficulties, so for them a will is a must. Immediately, if not sooner!

Taking the lion’s share is not even good for the lion. Sure, he can eat a lot today, but what about tomorrow? Soon everything will escape from his sight. Yet some Japanese are becoming more aggressive because they’ve been miseducated that being a smart business person means taking more than others.

Not knowing the law doesn’t protect you from prosecution, even across borders. The United States requires a lot from its citizens and green card holders. For example, every U.S. citizen and permanent resident must file yearly U.S. tax returns, even if they live and pay taxes in another country. Recently, another obligation has been imposed: Americans and green card holders must report details about their bank accounts to the U.S. government. This is according to the Foreign Bank and Financial Account Reporting (FBAR) and its rules require U.S. citizens and those with green cards who have foreign accounts and trusts worth more than an aggregate value of $10,000 to file annual reports with the Treasury Department. Failure to do so results in stiff penalties.

In today’s age, the idea of citizenship should be reconsidered. I have several Japanese clients who were born in the U.S. and returned to Japan at the age of one or two. They have never been back to the U.S. since then and they consider themselves Japanese, but unbeknownst to them, they are still U.S. citizens because they were born in the U.S. These “accidental Americans” have the same obligation to file yearly income tax returns to the IRS as U.S. citizens do. They must also report their Japanese bank accounts as required by FBAR. But as we say in Japanese, “shikataganai” — this can’t be helped.

A rich person is someone who spends on others, no matter how poor he or she may be. Most religions teach that we should give at least ten percent of our income to others who aren’t family. And if we have no income, time can be the currency.

A version of this interview was published by the Japan Times

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/mitsuo-tsuchida

Interview by Judit Kawaguchi

Arihiro Fujita and Kimiyo Fujita, owners of the award-winning Takasagoya Pork Shop in Tokyo’s Tsukishima, know their pork. These two 76-year-olds also know what makes a relationship work. They’ve been married and working together for 51 years — without, they claim, even one argument.

Arihiro-san: You can’t argue when you’re naked and in a big tub of hot water! So we bathe together every night and since we are relaxed, it is the perfect time to discuss the mistakes of that day, plan the next and show our appreciation for each other. I say, Sorry for getting mad today. She says, OK, don’t worry, honey.

Kimiyo-san: Men need more support than women, so if the wife is smart enough to recognize this, everything goes smoothly and the whole family is happy. Men get angry because they want the work to go smoothly and expect all the workers to do a great job every minute. It doesn’t work that way. I just listen, wait till he calms down, then when we drink tea at night, I explain why the person made a mistake and apologize in their name to him. He always realizes that it was not on purpose and he also apologizes.

Arihiro-san: It is a total waste of time to try to change people. Be nice to them and leave them alone.

Kimiyo san: A greeting is enough to know the person. Anyone who looks down, forget them! People say Japanese do not make enough eye contact. Sure, it’s true! That is why they have communication problems. Looking down means you’re not listening. Honest people look you in the eye and understand you.

Arihiro san: Life is long and one has to plan for that. We both make effort to listen to each other and to stay considerate and kind, no matter what. We both work the same hours, from 6 am till 9 pm every day. Business is first and since she does the books, I do the laundry, cook the meals, and keep serving her tea. I never watch TV while she is still bending over the books. When she is done, we chat.

Kimiyo san: The TV is never on during meals. We want to talk to each other all the time.

Arihiro-san: We use every part of the animal because it is life and one must not waste even a tiny part of life.

Kimiyo san: Every morning and night we say a prayer for all the animals and we thank them from the bottom of our hearts.

Arihiro-san: It’s fortunate that I got very sick 25 years ago. Before that, I was so proud and sure I would never get sick. But then I did, and I realized that disease can be your friend because it shows you your limits and helps you control your life.

Kimiyo-san: No matter how rich you are and how expensively you dress, it means nothing. We don’t care about looks; we want substance. A person who is poor but speaks from the heart is everything to us. That is the man we wanted to marry our fourth daughter. Finally, he appeared!

Arihiro-san: We all get what we deserve. Thirty-one years ago we lost all our money because we blindly trusted people and put loads of cash in front of them. We were responsible for the environment that turned them into thieves. So if terrible things are happening to you, you are doing something wrong and you had better reexamine your behavior.

Kimiyo san: Life is about contributing to society and helping other people. When our goal was making money, we lost it all.

Arihiro-san: For us, buying bottles of sake as gifts for 100 people is better than going out for some fancy dinner with expensive wine.

Arihiro san: Money is alive or dead, depending on the situation and the person. Here is a story: a thief stole a lot of money from someone. He was escaping and suddenly had to use the toilet, but had no toilet paper so had to wipe his butt with one of the bills. How about the one about the old woman who carried a big bag full of money on her back, but when she opened it, it was nothing but sand.

Kimiyo san: Greed will get you nowhere nice. Money is to provide a safe and average lifestyle for our kids and employees. We can’t take money to our graves, so the extra money we make, we consider it as not our own, but everyone’s, that we are safekeeping. We use it for others, too.

Arihiro-san: My wife checks out every one of our daughters’ boyfriends and if they don’t pass inspection, they’re history. When someone is smitten, they are blind, so it’s up to parents and friends to check out the love interest to make sure they don’t make a mistake.

Kimiyo san: The secret to a happy life together is trust and always working together for the same goals.

Arihiro san: And always thinking of the other person, not oneself!

Arihiro san: We both believe in reincarnation and we hope that in our next lives we will be together again!

Kimiyo san: We never worry about aging. Even young people die suddenly, so nobody knows when life is over. We take every day as a present and are thankful for the time we receive.

Arihiro san: The beauty of this job is that it is endless! We will never retire. It keeps us young and happy.

Kimiyo-san: Every December 31st he washes my whole body as his appreciation for the whole year. I don’t wash his body because he doesn’t let me! If I wash his body, we’re equal and he doesn’t want that. He wants to be sweet to me!

Kimiyo-san: If I were not in this business, I would be a hairstylist, making everyone look and feel good!

Arihiro-san: I would be a carpenter, because I enjoy designing and making beautiful things for others.

A version of this interview appeared in the Japan Times on September 13, 2005

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/arihiro-and-kimiyo-fujita

Words to Live by 藤田有宏さんと藤田喜美代さん
By Judit Kawaguchi 川口ユディ
Translator: Toshio Ozawa
Approved by Arihiro and Kimiyo Fujita

東京月島で、表彰を受けた焼き豚で知られる「肉のたかさご」を営む藤田有宏さんと藤田喜美代さんは、豚肉を熟知している。76歳のご両人は、夫婦の力の大切さもよく心得ている。二人は結婚して以来51年間ずっと一緒に働いており、この間一回の口げんかすらしたことがないという。

有宏さん：裸になってお風呂の大きな湯船につかっているときに、口げんかなんかできないでしょ！わたしたちは、毎夜いつも一緒にお風呂に入るのです、そうするとゆったりくつろげるものですから、その日のいけなかったことを話し合ったり、次の計画を考えたり、お互いにありがとうと言い合ったりするには、お風呂の時間がぴったりです。私が、今日はむっとしてごめんねと言えば、家内が、気にしないでいいのよ、と答えるのです。

喜美代さん：男は女よりもずっとたくさんの元気付けが必要なんです。ですから奥さんがそこのところをきちんと分かっていれば、何もかもがうまくいって、家族のみんなが幸せになるんです。

喜美代さん：日本人はちゃんと目を合わせないようですね。それって本当です！だから、うまく話ができないのですよ。下を向いているとしたら、話をしっかり聞いていないという意味なのです。正直な人は、ちゃんと目を見て理解するんですよ。

有宏さん：他人を変えてやろうと考えるのはまったく時間の無駄ですね。ほかの人には気持ちよく接してそっとしておくことです。

有宏さん：私は25年前に大病を患ったことを、幸せに思っています。それまでは、自慢たっぷりに、私は絶対に病気に罹らないと信じていたんです。ですが、いざ病気になって悟りました。病気は、自分に限界があることを教え、人生をいろいろ変えるのに役立つところから、友だちになれるのだということを。

喜美代さん：どんなにお金があっても、また、どんなに高価な服装をしようと、そんなものは意味がありません。私たちは身なりを気にしません。中身がほしいのです。貧しくたって、真心から話をする人が、私たちにとっては全てなんです。そんな人に、四人の娘を嫁がせたいと願っています。

有宏さん：私たちは、わが家に相応と見られるものは、すべて与えられています。20年前、私たちは、何も考えずに人を信用して、大きな財産を失いました。あの人たちを泥棒に仕向けてしまった環境については、私たちに責任があります。ですから、もし何かひどいことがあなたの身に起こったとしたら、きっとあなたが何か間違ったことをしているのですから、自分の態度を見直すべきです。

有宏さん：私たちにとって、人に施せる事は高価なワイン付きの高級ディナーに行くことよりもすばらしいことです。

有宏さん：家内は、娘たちのボーイフレンドの全員に目を光らせています。そして、もし検査に合格しなければ、ボーイフレンドは過去の話になります。ですから、両親や友だちは、恋愛の関心にしっかりチェックを入れて、過ちを犯さないようにする責任があるのです。

有宏さん：生命のあったものですからお肉の部分を粗末にしません。また、どんなに小さな生命であっても無駄にしてはならないのです。

喜美代さん：もし、この仕事につかなかったとしたら、私はみんなをきれいにしたり、気持ちよくする美容師になっていたでしょうね。

有宏さん：私だったら大工さんだね。だって、他人のためにデザインを考えたり、きれいなものを作ったりするのが楽しみだからね。

喜美代さん：毎年大晦日には、主人はこの1年間の感謝の印として、私の体のすみずみまで洗ってくれるんです。私は、主人の体を洗いません。やらせてくれないんです！私が、主人の体だったら、私たちは平等なんですが、主人はそれを望みません。主人は私にやさしくするのが好きなんです！

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/words-to-live-by-1153

Izu Oshima is a small volcanic island about 100 km South of Tokyo. It has subtropical climate and is famous for tsubaki = camellia. Every year from January till March the locals welcome visitors to the Izu Oshima Tsubaki Matsuri, their beautiful camellia festival. Judit Kawaguchi reported about this fascinating place for NHK World TV.

Izu Oshima island is fun to visit all year round, but don’t miss the Tsubaki Matsuri! To go to Izu Oshima from Tokyo, you can take the high-speed jet ferry from Takeshiba Pier in Tokyo and you’ll arrive on the island in one hour and 45 minutes.
Or take the train or the shinkansen to Atami on the Izu peninsula and switch to a ferry from there. Either way, spend a night or two on the island so you’ll have time to explore.

judittokyo.com/nhk-tv/azu-oshima-tsubaki-matsuri

By Judit Kawaguchi

Still, I always feel better after a visit to Suehirotei, the beautiful old theater for traditional Japanese acts in Tokyo’s Shinjuku area. Here the brilliant performers treat me to a total mental, emotional and physical workout. Mine is a set menu: I get a delicious bento (lunchbox) and a drink in Isetan department store, cross the street and get lost in the realm of the senses.

Suehirotei’s facade is fully covered with the fantastic handiwork of Tachibana Sakon, the grand master of rakugo calligraphy, depicting the names of the rakugoka in black ink. All other acts, such as jugglers, singers, paper artists, who are called iromono, are painted in red ink. He explained how these characters differed from other types of letterings, such as those used for sumo or kabuki. “For rakugo, each stroke should be wide and with as little space between the strokes as possible, as each line depicts a row of seats and we surely don’t want any empty seats in the theater! These characters bring good luck and used only on happy occasions. I’ve been at them for 40 years!“

Mr. Kitamura Ikuo, Suehirotei Theater’s owner has just spent 120 million yen on restoring the 1947 building to its former glory while putting in larger, more comfy seats and new toilets. “This is the only theater in Tokyo that has both chairs and tatami seating. I keep it as authentic as possible and also as free as it gets. The performers can make fun of just about anything and in the heavily censored Japanese media, our place is special!” he says. I totally agree!

Rakugo is funny storytelling, performed by a rakugoka, who is dressed in kimono and sits on stage on a zabuton (pillow).There are two types of stories: koten, or classical, some of which are 400 years old, and shinsaku, or contemporary pieces. One thing is for sure: all are hilarious! The performer is always introduced by his or her own theme song, played by three ladies on shamisen behind the shoji screen backstage.

I met with Kitamura Masumi, who has been the head of the Rakugo Association for the past 20 years and is in charge of scheduling 270 different artists who take turns performing in the four theaters dedicated to these art forms that are left in Tokyo. “230 are rakugoka and 40 are iromono. The beauty of these art forms is that none has an age limit. We have storytellers as young as teenagers and they continue till their deaths, many in their 80’s, and 90’s. This world is very different, as the young are hanging out with the old masters and learning from them, so the art goes literally from generation to generation, unchanged by technology. “

Rakugoka Katsura Bunshou has been telling funny stories for 40 years. “I always talk about my own family in the makura part (funny warm-up to the actual story ) as this way the audience doesn’t get offended. People have no interest in hearing some happy story of me taking a luxurious trip around the world, but if I talk about how I stopped traffic and was practically kicked out of the Buenos Aires airport, and why the JCB card is not welcomed everywhere, although my wife said it would be, and how I almost choked to death at a restaurant, well, people can laugh about these kinds of troubles.” I certainly did! I also had tears running down my cheeks as I listened to him at Suehirotei give the Japanese education system, and parents, a few kicks. Later I asked him about his own youth.“I never leaned on my parents, and once I decided to be a storyteller at age 18, I moved out from my parents’ house into a little apartment, worked my butt off at a shoestore and at a gas station while running around to rakugokas to learn the trade. Students never pay any money to a teacher but we always bring gifts, a box of sweets, a sixpack, whatever he likes. I spent all my money on gifts but I was happy to as they taught me so much and I am still living off that treasure.” Now he has four students but he says a rakugoka never refuses a serious hopeful. “I can’t tell you how many ways I had to approach some of the big rakugokas to ask them to teach me, and if I was persuasive, they sooner or later accepted me. So I learnt from many, many master storytellers.“

Another master rakugoka, Katsura Nankyou adds: ”The younger storyteller has the right to learn from any of us, so if we are asked to teach someone, we never refuse. We, elders have the duty to pass the stories on and it has been done this way for 400 years.“

With each performer having only 15 or so minutes of limelight, and tickets running at 3000 yen for a whole afternoon or evening of 20 or so acts, I wonder how these artists survive.

Mr. Kitamura, the theater’s owner says:“ Going on stage and being in front of a live audience is a challenge and pleasure for them, so they don’t mind doing it for free. They get maybe 1000 yen or so for transportation expenses, that is all. This is their practice ground! ” So how do they make ends meet? “ They get paid for special shows in the countryside so they can make a living that way or they have other incomes. “ Akashi Suzue, the great singer, agrees: ”I really don’t need money. I have a small income form teaching and that is enough for me to live on.”

Rakugoka Katsura Bunsho adds: ”I guess out of the 600 storytellers in Japan, about 50 make a living on rakugo. The rest are taking on odd jobs or their wives support their storytelling habits. Of course, we make money at weddings, festivals, private parties but not on stage, that is for fun and practice, a place we sharpen our skills and keep in touch with our audience.“

Katsura Nankyou, a brilliant veteran rakugoka also celebrating his 40th year on stage, knows over 200 stories by heart. “Most are koten because I just love the characters, the little shop owners, the typical Edokkos (people born and raised in Edo, Tokyo’s former name). Back then Japanese were a lot kinder, they had to, as they lived in nagayas (long housing block with small units for each family) and they treated their neighbors like they were from the very same family. I just dig kind folks, but it is hard to find such people nowadays.”

How do they get this funny? Another veteran rakugoka, Katsura Nankyou laughs:”Practice!”

Yanagawa Fumio, the Osaka Bunraku Theater’s young PR manager loves rakugo, too: “Rakugo is fascinating because one person alone, without a set and with really minimal props can conjure up a whole scenery. It is magical how the unseen is visualized in rakugo.” Veteran rakugoka, Katsura Nankyo agrees:” I tell the same story to 100 people and they all see it from a different angle. Rakugo’s world is very deep and extremely wide and the understanding of a story really depends on the listener’s character.”

All the performers have great stage presence and Akashi Suzue is no exception. “I was 40 when I first put the shamisen on my lap. Now I am 45.” The audience is already rolling in laughter but once her ethereal voice, accompanied by the shamisen, fills the theater, every single person, even those suddenly woken up from their delicious little naps, are mesmerized by her happy little songs. She gives an intro to each one. “This is called Shinonomi Bushi and and it’s about how around 1920-30 the geishas went on strike in Kyushu because they were treated badly by their employers. Imagine?“ She is not kidding, she actually knows the geisha world.“For fifteen years I was a singer, drummer and shamisen player in the most famous dinner theatre called Matsubaya, in Tokyo’s Yoshiwara district.“ On stage she also talks about her time in the USA, way back in 1955, arriving in Lubbock, Texas, with just a day bag and going from door to door, looking for a job. “Be brave and do what you want!” is her motto and she has been sticking by it.

Another amazing performer at Suehirotei is Yanagiya Toshimatsu, who has been spinning koma (wooden tops) for over 45 years, placing them on fans, parasols, his own face, head, and just about anything he finds. How can his wildly spinning koma gently slide down the thin edges of a Japanese fan? “That takes a lot of practice. Maybe 5 years.” he says. He learnt the trade from his father and now he himself is in the teacher’s role at the National Theater, where his new three-year course is beginning next spring. “We study together five days a week so in three years the students get pretty good.“ Those interested in mastering the koma, should call the National Theatre as this art form is really a disappearing act! Learn from the masters while they are around to teach!

The incredible kamikiri artist (paper cutting), Hayashiya Niraku, is only 36 years old but has been chopping up everything in sights since he was a little kid. ”My father was a kamikiri artist so I was born with paper and scissors in hand, but I only began to seriously study from my father once I turned 20.” His fingers surely do the talking and he finishes the most elaborate images in less than one minute, while keeping us suspended in thin air with hilarious stories.

“Understanding Japanese is key for enjoying rakugo. Of course the rakugokas are all talented so they can change their voices for each character and use the fan and the handtowel to signify many things, so I guess even someone who can’t speak a word of Japanese, can appreciate that but to get the ochi, the punch line, for that one needs to speak good Japanese.” says Mr. Kitamura, Suehirotei’s owner. “Rakugo on TV is still great but definetely loses a lot of its appeal as it is very watered down and made into a more sophisticated form than what it is really intended to be. “ This sentiment seems to be shared by most artists, who feel they are truly free only in a live house, where no TV cameras are allowed. Katsura Nankyou, a grandmaster with 40 years on stage put it this way:“ Japanese TV has way too many rules. We can’t make fun of this or that, we can’t use words that are essential and of curse hilarious, partly because they are a bit edgy. So you gotta go to a live rakugo performance to really have a good time!“

Yes, go!!! These performers all do the circuit of the four Tokyo theaters that showcase their traditional art forms. Check them out at either Shinjuku’s Suehirotei, Ueno’s Suzuki Engeijou, Asakakusa’s Engei Hall, or the Ikebukuro Engeijou. Go get hooked as rakugo, shamisen, koma and the rest are all really good for you!

judittokyo.com/others/in-stitches-at-suehirotei

Interview by Judit Kawaguchi

Suzue Akashi, 84, is a folk musician whose repertoire includes songs from many parts of Japan, with shamisen and taiko drum accompaniment. Her insatiable desire to learn led her from a Tokyo milk hall through the U.S. Air Force’s Haneda Education Center to university studies and work in Tennessee and Texas in the 1950s. Back in Japan she switched from selling Avon cosmetics to playing shamisen at the prestigious Matsubaya ryoutei in Tokyo. A winner at countless music competitions and the 2002 recipient of the Prime Minister’s Award, she is proudest of having always done the right thing, even if it was painful to do so.

I have good skin and posture because I grew up in a milk hall. My parents ran a milk hall. They also bottled and delivered milk all over town. At that time, in the 1930s, milk was a luxury, and I was very lucky because I could drink as much as I wanted. At school kids teased me for my white skin. “You drink lots of milk so your skin is so pretty!” Later when I was living in the U.S. in the 1950s, both blacks and whites asked me why I had such white skin with so much straight black hair. Many touched my hair and face.

If it’s short and sweet, then nobody gets bored. People get tired of listening to others so I sing hauta, which are 2- or 3-minute songs, with great punch lines, compiled from the best parts of longer pieces. I also sing zokkyoku which are the popular songs of the 19th and 20th centuries.

I operate like a U.S. university: easy to get in, but hard to graduate from. In the traditional Japanese art world, the teachers are revered and pick their students carefully. I don’t. I never refuse anybody who wants to learn from me. I have a responsibility to give my knowledge to as many students as possible.

After surviving the war, I can never complain. Our whole neighborhood in Tokyo was firebombed. Once the bombs hit their targets, the napalmed cloths from inside them flew all over the place so every 15 or 20 centimeters a small fire was born. It was so pretty. We ran through the firestorm, down to the Tamagawa River. Once we got there, we were stunned, because the riverbank was already full of people. Many stood in the water. We couldn’t squeeze in. This is when the U.S. planes started dropping firebombs right on top of the people in the river. From a river of fire we were in a river of blood. I don’t how why and how my family survived Word War II, but we all did.

War is hunger. We were always so hungry. After the firebombing, I crawled back to the place where our house used to stand. In the rubble I found an iron pot, which I remembered had a little rice in it earlier that day. I opened it but the rice was gone: it all turned into a lump of black charcoal.

The world of the Japanese is very delicate and the Japanese are very sensitive. A tiny mistake can hurt others. The choice of words and their intonation, the tone of voice, the body language, they all matter. Japanese communication is through so many means, so many sources, yet simultaneously. We read all these signs and it creates an image of the person in us. We had better be careful of our own stance and behavior.

War is never personal. I never hated the Americans for what they did to us and I’ve never held grudges against the U.S. either.

Why sleep when being awake is more fun? I took a luxury liner to the USA on board one of the vessels of the American President Line. It took two weeks to San Francisco. There were very few Japanese among lots of wealthy Chinese, Indian and Phillippino men. I never stayed in my room but fooled around on deck. I had dates on all decks and although I had a good room, I ended up staying up on deckchairs, staring up at the sky, with some charming men after me.

Some people see colors but not the whole picture. It was the 1958 and I was working as a secretary at a cotton office in Texas. A colored engineer was injured on one of the machines at the factory and rushed to the hospital. In a while we got a call from the hospital that the doctor refused to treat him. Our president, Mr. Tapp, was furious and drove to the hospital himself. He screamed at the doctor until he finally agreed to help.

Airplanes are a bore. They get you places but not in style. That is all. I never fly because there is not much to see.

I was never serious about men. They were serious about me, but I was only serious about playing around with them. The key is not to go too far because then guys lose interest.

Even dull places have interesting people. Sure, I can find the coolest and hippest people in any place in a day but I never intended to live in the U.S., because it is just not fun there. The U.S. is a dull country; there is nothing to do there. It is so boring! People go to church on Sundays, then eat a big meal, chat and some even go back for the evening service. Maybe big cities like New York are better, but I doubt that they are as exciting as Tokyo. In Tokyo we have so many fun places to go, things to do. I had to come back to Japan.

It’s better to love than be loved. After I came back to Japan, I married a Taiwanese man who supplied noodles to my father’s restaurant. I’d never noticed him before even though he was always stopping by. Once he proposed, I just couldn’t say no. That is just me. He adored me and treated me like a princess but I couldn’t return his feelings. Those were sad times, so I can’t even remember how many years we were together. He had liver cancer and died in my arms.

Forget the past, if it’s sad. Remember it, if it’s happy. Either way, don’t dwell on the past.

It’s never too late to switch careers. I was 40 and making great money as an Avon Zone Manager. I loved my life. One day I bought a record of minyo, or traditional folk songs. As I listened, I could smell the fresh soil and crisp air those songs were born in. I was hooked and started to take shamisen lessons.

Watching TV is nonsense. I either work or practice my songs. I hate sitting around.

Selling is all about complimenting the customer. Find something you like about him or her and praise it. Never lie!

I don’t need to be loved by everyone. I’m always honest and speak the truth, even if it hurts at times. Most Japanese say what the other person wants to hear, but they never say what should be said. This creates lots of problems.

Geishas’ lives are about endurance and effort. I worked as a musician at Matsubaya, at one of the top ryotei (a high-class Japanese restaurant). Guests enjoyed delicious sukiyaki or tempura dinners while listening to music and enjoying the dances of geishas, who were superior artists.

Two parents must have one voice. My second husband was also Taiwanese. We were very happy at first. He had four children from his previous marriage, with two still at home. He was the typical sweet father, letting the kids run wild. I tried to discipline them and asked them to study and behave but he never backed me up. He just stayed silent. A weak father makes a good mother look evil. I had no choice but to divorce him.

If you want to be successful, you need to have a specialty, something about you that nobody else has, a sort of atmosphere.

Learning something for a long time is not enough; continuing it for life is the key. People study an art form but once they feel they are pretty good at it, they quit. Soon they forget everything they had learnt. What a waste!

If I could be half as nice as my mother was, I would be a wonderful woman. My mother was always gentle, always smiling and working. She was the most patient and gentlest person I have ever met. She worked so hard in our milk hall, taking care of the delivery guys and customers. There is no woman like her in the world! She never complained, never said anything negative.

For a lucky few, love happens more than once. My father passed away in 1965, just one year after he built a beautiful house in Chiba prefecture, where they hoped to live for the rest of their life. Suddenly, my mom was alone and I was worried about her. One day she said she had somebody she wanted me to meet and that if I didn’t like him, she would never see him again. I was so happy and wanted to meet him that minute. She called him and he came over. I stood outside and watched as he pulled up in a Mark II, an expensive sedan. I was not impressed by the car, but once he got out, I understood what she saw in him. He was very nice and kind, like my mother. They lived together very happily for about 16 years, traveling all over Japan with his relatives.

A great teacher can change lives. My high-school English teacher, Masako Tango, always wore kimono, had her hair up in a bun and never had make-up on. But she spoke English as well as a native speaker and was well-versed in English literature. All of us students arrived in the classroom early for her class and studied hard because we respected and admired her.

Be strict with yourself and gentle with others. I am very disciplined with myself. I always study so hard, even now. I practice every day and teach, also.

Never throw away an opportunity to study or work. I loved Bob and he loved me, but when I got a scholarship to study in Tennessee, I left him behind in Haneda. I figured there were many other Bobs in the world, but maybe no more scholarships. I was right. Keep in mind that this was in 1950s’ Japan, so getting an invitation to go to college in the U.S. was very special. I didn’t want to miss the boat.

Once I knew I was adopted, I loved my parents even more than before. I had the most wonderful childhood and the greatest parents. When I applied for a passport at age 25, I found out that I was adopted by my uncle. I was shocked and amazed that they could love a selfish girl like me that much, even though they were not my birth parents. I adored them even more from that moment on.

I didn’t believe in one love. I believed in love. Yet I found my sweetheart when I was 54. I never met a nicer man. His face is not much, but he has a heart of gold.

To have a good life, education is the key. First of all, find what you want to do and focus on it. Every day people mature, so doing something new every few years is natural. The point is to do it at full steam, to work hard and excel at what you do.

I am so thankful that I am alive. I put my hands together for every meal, for every day that goes by in peace.

A version of this interview appeared in the Japan Times

judittokyo.com/words-to-live-by/suzue-akashi