Sister Cities

For the most eventful part of that weekend for me, see previous post.

June 5 — After the re-signing ceremony and reception, I was finally off the hook. I wandered over to Pioneer Place mall with some of the Sapporo delegation. (I think we did lose some people, but I don’t blame them; they’d just gotten off the plane from Japan that morning, and this was the longest flight some of them had ever taken.)

Now it was time for the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the children’s art exhibit that was in place in the mall atrium. There were more speeches — Mayor Fumio Ueda and former Portland Mayor Tom Potter. The English to Japanese translator for this event seemed much more at ease in her formal Japanese than I was — I’m guessing she’d spent much longer than my own 4 years in Japan — though at one point, she did get carried away and read her translation ahead of what Tom Potter was saying…again, translating is hard.

The children’s art from Sapporo was actually fairly intriguing. They seemed to be in two categories: features of Sapporo (snow, landmarks such as the government building and the clock tower, etc.), and — strangely enough for June — explanations of New Year’s in Japan. Mostly by fourth and fifth graders, they were a hell of a lot better than anything I could draw at that age, or even now, for that matter.

June 6 — I participated in the Grand Floral Walk, which kicks off the Grand Floral Parade, the main event of the Portland Rose Festival. I’d volunteered to help carry the banner for a Sapporo-related youth group, which I didn’t know anything about until I talked to some people that day. Apparently there’s an international youth summit that takes place in Sapporo, and this was a reunion of sorts for former participants.
Afterward, they kindly treated us to lunch at Todai, where I stuffed myself with sushi and those cute little cakes I love so much there.

June 7 — A light day for me in terms of Sister City involvement. I sat at the hospitality desk at the Benson Hotel for just a couple hours. There wasn’t a lot for me to do, since people were mostly getting ready to go to the “Sayonara Party” at the Japanese Garden that evening. I think the most significant thing I did was direct a woman to the Bath & Body Works for nice-smelling bathroom stuff. I mostly chatted up the other volunteer working the desk with me, a white American who’d lived in Japan for several years and spoke pretty good Japanese.
I didn’t attend the Sayonara Party because, well, the weather wasn’t looking so great and I was feeling pretty exhausted after a busy weekend.

I wish I could have done some of the tour group outings, or the dinners that people in the area were hosting in their homes. But I guess I can’t do everything.

Here’s what I took away from the weekend of sister city activity:
- Portland and Sapporo have an active, committed sister city relationship unlike — from the impression I get — many other sister cities.
- Both cities like to emphasize their shared love of: nature, environmentalism, and of course, beer.
- Best moment with the two mayors: During the signing, Fumio Ueda went straight to signing the document. Sam Adams looked up and held his pen up with a cheesy smile at the flashing cameras. Mayor Ueda figured out what was going on and did the same.
- It’s great that I got to do it, but I don’t think I want to do formal interpretation again.
- …but I would love to work with Japanese visitors more.

Translating is hard

Last week, the Portland-Sapporo Sister Cities celebrated their 50th anniversary in conjunction with the Portland Rose Festival. On Friday, June 5, a delegation from Japan, including Mayor Fumio Ueda and Sapporo City Assembly members, arrived for a weekend of activities commemorating our sister city relationship.

I enthusiastically volunteered to participate in the festivities. I figured I could use my bilingual skills to help with a tour group or do some basic translating. I was surprised when I was asked to be a translator for the official Re-Signing Ceremony. I was unsure of the rather high assignment, but I wasn’t about to turn down such a great, unique opportunity when presented with one.

The day before the ceremony, the other translator and I met with Fred Ross, the International Relations Director for the City of Portland. As he walked us through City Hall going over what we’ll be doing the next day — starting with the courtesy call in the Rose Room, the Re-Signing Ceremony itself in the Council Chambers, and then the reception in the atrium — I really started to wonder, what the hell am I doing here!?

Now, I’m a fluent English speaker (obviously) and a fluent Japanese speaker. When I’m in Japan, people don’t suspect that I’m an American that’s lived in the United States for most of my life. When I do have to explain that I’m visiting from overseas (because I have to tell them why I don’t have a Japanese address for a form something), they’re often impressed or even seem baffled at my perfect Japanese.

That said, when I looked at the mayor’s talking points that I was provided, I had pangs of panic. I was up most of the night looking up words and trying to familiarize myself with the unfamiliar. I may be able to carry on conversations with Japanese friends and family, and generally get along day-to-day life in Japan with relative ease, but a formal occasion with politicians? That was another matter altogether.

I learned scores of new words.
vice speaker = 副議長（fukugichou)
city assembly/council = 議会 (gikai)
honorary citizen = 名誉市民 (meiyo shimin)
Chamber of Commerce and Industry = 商工会議所 (shoukoukaigisho)
re-signing = 再調印 (saichouin)
written oath = 宣誓書 (senseisho)

The list goes on.

By about 5:30am, when I lay down for a “nap” so I can — ridiculously — go to my regular job for a few hours before I head over to my translating gig, I was hating Japanese.

I arrived at the Mayor’s Office around noon and hung out with the other translator, comparing notes. Morgan, a community college Japanese teacher, was doing Japanese to English, which I already suspected was the much easier job. (She later told me that she’d responded to the e-mail about the translating assignment and requested Japanese to English, which is why I got stuck with English to Japanese. Damn.) Fred Ross introduced us to Mayor Sam Adams, and then I watched as they walked around, the IR director briefing the mayor on the day’s events.

At 1pm, the dignitaries from Sapporo arrived and we went into the “Rose Room” for the “courtesy call.” I didn’t know what a courtesy call was before, but everyone was seated along a big table, where there were some formal words by the two mayors and a few others, a gift exchange, and then some time for mingling and picture-taking. I was seated behind Mayor Adams, and Morgan was seated behind Mayor Ueda.

This was definitely the most difficult part of the day. One of the first things I had to do of course, before I was really even settled into translating-and-speaking-formal-Japanese mode, was translate Mayor Adams’s unscripted speech. He talks. He pauses. I spit out what he just said, in Japanese.

A few more considerations about myself:
a) I consider myself someone who is generally comfortable with being in front of people. I enjoyed giving presentations in school. I’ve been in performing arts my whole life. During my short involvement with Model United Nations in high school, I got an award my very first conference out.
b) In a sense, I’ve been translating for people my whole life. My parents’ English never got very good; my language skills surpassed theirs by the time I was about 7. I was the family translator.

But:
a) I’d never done anything of quite this much level of responsibility when it comes to speaking. When I was looking around the room at two mayors and the Sapporo City Assembly among others, looking at me expectantly, yes, I was very, very nervous. I’m sure my lack of sleep wasn’t helping either.
b) Translating for errands and casual, friendly conversation is just not nearly the same as translating a speech for a mayor. Japanese has a very distinct formal language that I’m not accustomed to speaking in, let alone trying to translate into. It’s because of this that makes English->Japanese translating so challenging, and it’s this point where I think it really shows that my English is much better than my Japanese.

In case you’re not bilingual yourself and you think translating would be easy for someone that is — well, it’s not. The thing with being bilingual is, I do no translating when I talk. I don’t think in my head, “how do I say this?” and translate it; I just speak in Japanese or I speak in English and it comes out. So imagine trying to think of synonyms for a particular word. How about completely rephrasing an entire sentence? Now how about doing that on the spot (quick!) in front of important people in an unfamiliar setting?

I was just relieved that I was able to pull out the phrase for “recession.” 不景気 (fukeiki)–that’s one I just happened to have picked up on my last trip to Japan.

At 2pm was the actual Re-Signing Ceremony. We were joined by many more people for this in the Council Chambers, including Portland city commissioners, former Portland mayors, and members of the Sapporo citizens delegation (important businesspeople and such). There was some time before the ceremony started, and I was greeted by Russ Lewis, the local news anchor who was MC’ing the ceremony. He was very friendly and did much to put me at ease. He had never had a translator before (other than for sign language), and he asked me about places in his speech he should be pausing. I told him he doesn’t need to worry, because for this, I had a pre-translated speech in hand.

Armed with speeches I can actually read from (I didn’t even translate them myself — someone from the Sister City Association did, though I did make a few changes), the ceremony went fairly smoothly. The only speech I didn’t have pre-translated was the one for Sam Adams, though I did at least have his speech (in English) in hand to follow along, which made it infinitely easier than the earlier speech. I got it the day before but hadn’t bothered to pre-translate it, since I was under the impression that these were just talking points and not the actual speech. Well, he did follow the written speech, and I had at least looked up some key vocabulary words, so I think I did fairly decently, if with a few stumbles.

Finally, we moved out over to the atrium for the toast, where I ended up not having to do much.

The reception was the fun part. I tried to keep my “translator hat” on and did what I can if I spotted people that looked like they needed translating, but I got a chance to also just mingle and talk to people. I asked people from Sapporo what they thought of Portland, or of the U.S. One woman told me that this was her first time in Portland, but she had once lived in Louisville, Kentucky on a homestay when she was younger. Funny enough, the people from Sapporo often started with the same question everyone else here seems to start with: “Are you a student?” I suppose it’s my age (I’m 25 but look younger), but maybe they thought I’m in the U.S. for college?

I was relieved when it was all over, but all in all, it was a good experience. I feel grateful and honored to have had the opportunity to take an active part in the Portland-Sapporo sister city relationship!

For the rest of that weekend: To Be Continued…

I’m a little late to the party but…

…with our new President Barack Obama becoming recently inaugurated, I just wanted to share more stories from my last trip to Japan.

My shiny new passport in hand, wherever I went, I proudly announced to friends and family that as of last summer, I am now an American citizen. And, invariably, one of the first things everyone said was:

“You got to vote for Obama?!”

It seems Obama Mania had caught hold in Japan as well. My new American citizenship might have further legitimized the Cool Relative From America status I frequently enjoy (and yes, I’m a fittingly arrogant American), but people seemed really, really excited that I was able to vote for Obama. Of course I was excited too, and I am excited that this is my first real President, but not being much in touch with the pulse of Japan these days, I was a bit surprised at the extent of the hoopla around him.

I’d heard about the city of Obama, Japan being into Barack Obama, but it seemed to be common knowledge in Japan that they sell Obama manjuu there. I love the pun on the bottom of that packaging, too — they combined “Obama” and “manjuu” to create…”おばまん” or “Obaman.” Haha! My dad and I wanted some of these novelty items, but apparently they only sell them in Obama.

One day in Japan, I was watching TV and I even heard about this book of Obama’s speeches printed in English as well as Japanese, with a CD included so readers can follow along. I just did a quick Google search and it looks like NPR has recently picked up on this. It’s a pretty cool idea.

On another side of things, maybe I just forget how much the U.S. is scrutinized by other countries. I talked a bit with some of my dad’s cousins, and one of them asked me if I ever engaged in protests in college (I’ve never been to a protest of any kind), and commented that student protests don’t seem to occur much anymore. Curious, I asked what she was protesting, and she answered, “the Vietnam War.” This prompted me to ask a rather dumb question: “With America?” I guess it never occurred to me that there were young people overseas protesting the Vietnam War. She laughingly exchanged stories with her sister about their eyes burning from tear gas and how nobody was probably paying attention, all the way in Japan. It was an enlightening conversation for me.

Stubborn Twig and Mochitsuki

It’s been quite a week for Japanese-American culture in Portland.

On January 15th, I went to a reading/talk by Lauren Kessler, the local author of Stubborn Twig, the selection for the Oregon Reads 2009 program. The idea is that people across the state will read this book over the next several months. Because of the subject matter — “Three Generations in the Life of a Japanese American Family,” the book cover says — I’d decided I better participate in this program and had picked up the book earlier in the week (with a Barnes&Noble gift certificate that was gathering dust!).

Lauren Kessler proved to be charming and smart. She read some passages from the book, yes, but she went beyond what most authors do at these readings and took some time to just talk, about the members of the Yasui family who are the subject of her book, about the immigrant experience, and about what it means to be an American. To be honest, I started out slightly skeptical of a white author writing about a Japanese-American family, but that seems to have been a result of my own prejudice. It’s obvious that Lauren Kessler, this woman of third-generation European descent, fully immersed herself into all aspects of this book, cares about the Yasui family and others like them, and has given a lot of deep thought into the nature of this Nation of Immigrants.

Over and over, I found myself mentally nodding at what she was saying. To grossly paraphrase, she talked about how America is a “patchwork quilt” and not a “melting pot,” that we can celebrate our differences and not become all the same while still being a cohesive unit, how there are some aspects to the immigrant experience that are universal no matter where you came from, and yet how in other ways things are different for a descendant of a Japanese immigrant versus a descendant of a European immigrant because some of us “wear our foreignness on our faces.”

One thing I found particularly insightful is when she said that it “takes the third generation” to want to recapture their grandparents’ culture and reconcile it with their own, after the first generation tends to cling on to their home country’s culture and the second generation tries to eschew their parents’ foreignness. I find that that’s very true despite the fact that it doesn’t directly apply to myself. But I’m neither first nor second generation, but an in-between “1.5 generation” as I’ve heard it called. Having been born in Japan and spending a short few years there (which makes me technically first generation) and then growing up in the United States (which also makes me have much in common with the second generation), I seem to have somehow gone through and transcended all three of these steps that Lauren Kessler talked about.

So now I go to events like Mochitsuki.

(Picture “stolen” from the Mochitsuki website, since my camera broke in Japan)

This year’s annual Japanese-American New Year’s celebration took place yesterday, January 17th at Portland Community College’s Sylvania campus.

There was the Cultural Fair with booths, an ice-carving demonstration through the Portland-Sapporo Sister City Association (it was definitely COLD enough outside!), and yes, mochi-pounding and mochi-eating. But the big event was the show that occurred in the Performing Arts Center.

And as with last year, the highlights for me were the performances by Portland Taiko. I love these guys. They’re imaginative, loud, and lots of fun. I love their bits of choreography and their powerful sound, and I love that they really have a modern sensibility that works. I actually took a class with them a year ago and thoroughly enjoyed it (I’ve always wanted to be a drummer, too!) but haven’t “gotten around” to continuing to take any more. I feel inspired…I wonder if they have spots left for the next class?

…And if you have no idea what I’m talking about with this taiko, go look it up! There’s other ensembles elsewhere in the country, particularly if you’re on the West Coast.

Two families

Like the one from last time I was in Japan about a year and a half ago, we went to a get-together dinner with my dad’s side of the family (mostly his cousins & their families).

The next day, I met my stepmother’s family for the first time since she and my dad got married last year.

My dad’s family, all from Osaka:

…and my stepmom’s family, in the small town of Shirakawa in Fukushima prefecture:

‘Nuff said?

Just too much seafood

I’ve been a pesco-vegetarian (eat fish/seafood, but no red meat or poultry) for about 8 or 9 years now, but I decided to go completely vegetarian for at least 2 weeks since I got back from Japan. For largely environmental reasons, I’ve been trying to be more of a conscious seafood eater, and I feel like I’ve done my share of raping the oceans in my mere 8 days in Japan.

Just a sampling of the crazy fancy food I was eating —

Before:

After:

15th trip to Japan

…and my first as a real American, standing in the non-Japanese nationals line at Narita Airport and all.

I’m running out of excuses to not post on here, seeing as I’m back with a lot to write about, but I do need to be getting to bed at the moment so I’ll just leave you with a little preview:

As seen from the shinkansen…

San Francisco Trip, Part I – Elections Madness

I just got back from a 4-day trip visiting a friend in San Francisco. Lots happened in those 4 days, but as it’s Election Day as I’m writing this, I’ll start with an Elections-theme.

Prop 8 is huge in California. I’m somewhat ashamed to admit I’d somehow completely missed it living up in Oregon, but apparently it’s been in the national spotlight. In case you’ve been living in the same cave I’ve been in, Prop 8 seeks to change the California Constitution to ban gay marriage.

As you might imagine, being in San Francisco days before the Elections was…interesting. There were anti-Prop 8 people on every corner holding signs and giving out stickers and buttons — even in driving rain.

And as it happened, I was in The Castro on Halloween night. Unfortunately, most of my pictures didn’t come out well because the flash on my camera doesn’t work, but this one came out decently due to the good lighting:

The friend I was visiting? Walking around sporting an Obama button and a “No on Prop 8″ button:

What the hell happened to this guy who voted for Bush in 2004 and used to casually drop homophobic comments?

It’s never too late to turn to the light side!

(…and I mean that all as a compliment, John. Thanks for letting me stay at your place!)

The ESL Controversy

I know, two politics-related posts in a row.  But this is important and something I can speak to from personal experience. I’m also a bit excited I get to vote for the first time since I became a U.S. citizen just a few months ago.

There’s an initiative on the Oregon ballot this year (Measure 58 ) that would limit English as a Second Language to 1 to 2 years per student (depending on grade level).

First of all, there seems to be some misconception that ESL/Bilingual education means that students don’t speak or learn English. They do. In fact, I’d argue that that’s generally the point.

Now, at the risk of sounding self-important: I’m pretty smart. I speak and write in English better than a lot of people who only speak English do. I ended up going to a prestigious university and graduating with honors and a double major. In addition, I came to the U.S. at a very young age, and I grew up with stable parents, maybe not affluent but definitely not poor. And in my early elementary school years, my mom walked me to school while drilling me on spelling and sometimes even stayed to volunteer in my classroom.

…And I spent over three years in ESL. In those late ’80s – early ’90s at my California elementary school, they held me back in the program until I finally passed the proficiency test in third grade. I’d failed it in first and second grade.

Under Measure 58, I would have been kicked out of ESL after Kindergarten.

It takes a long time to learn a language. Moreover, it’s stressful to be in a new country, and ESL provides a safety net. Even younger kids, who learn relatively fast, benefit from spending time with other immigrant kids that they can learn English with. For older kids, high schoolers — I find it hard to even imagine how difficult it must be to adjust. And say you come to this country as a freshman in high school, and you spend your 2 years in ESL. Then under Measure 58, you’d get thrown into, what, physics and English lit with everyone else? Does that make sense to anyone?

And while I grew up in fortunate circumstances, many immigrant students didn’t. In the school systems, there are Southeast Asian refugees and illegal Mexicans, for instance. Students who are disadvantage socioeconomically tend to not perform well in schools. Add language and cultural barriers and it makes things even worse. Of course they’re not doomed and they can succeed…but a supportive environment that is attentive to their specific needs can go a long way.

No on Measure 58! (or any other similar law your state might put on the ballot!)

My complicated relationship with Japan, Part 4

I apologize for the lack of posts this week.

I’m back with the last part (for now?) of the “My complicated relationship with Japan” series, and I’m going to end on some positive notes.

First of all, two things of note that I like about going to Japan:

- Food. I love Japanese food. Ramen, udon, soba, takoyaki, okonomiyaki, sushi, donburi, tempura, sekihan, and Japanese curry, and snack food like dango and anpan. Even the “Western” food tastes better, like spaghetti and korokke (croquette), or desserts like cheesecake and crêpes. Everything in Japan is delicious. It seems that when I’m in Japan, I’m living for my next meal.

- Family. As much as it’s annoying to be with some of them sometimes, I’m no different than most other people that I enjoy spending time with relatives. In particular, I’ve always stayed in fairly good contact with my cousins on my mom’s side, and they both have two young kids. It’s been fun to see how they’ve grown every time I go back to Japan.
The last time I went to Japan, we had what might be called a “family reunion” dinner on my dad’s side, and it was the best part of that trip (family and food!). I’d always thought I had a rather small family (only child, only a total of 4 cousins), but I met relatives I didn’t even know I had. Over at our young-people side of the table, I sat next to (bear with me) my grandmother’s cousin’s great-grandson (that would mean a great-great-grandparent of mine would have been the sibling of this guy’s great-grandparent, I think), who was the same age as me. There was also my dad’s cousin’s daughter (or my grandma’s sister’s granddaughter, if you prefer), who coincidentally happened to be back in Japan from Germany (where she currently lives) at the same time I was there.

I’m careful to say “I don’t like going to Japan,” as opposed to “I don’t like Japan.” If I wasn’t proud of who I am, I wouldn’t have this blog. If you haven’t been to Japan and might be interested in going, I’d encourage you to do so. You’ll probably have a great time. For you, it’ll all be new, and you won’t have the problems I have. And if you’re white (or black, for that matter) and know 2 phrases in Japanese, everyone will love and adore you.

Which brings me to… I’ve had more than one person suggest to me that I’ll have a much easier time in Japan if I play up my American-ness. In a way, that might be true, as one of my problems is that I look and sound too Japanese to be an obvious “foreigner” (particularly if I’m with family), except I’m sure there’s something that seems a bit “off” about me. So while the average foreigner traveling in Japan will impress locals by knowing any Japanese or anything about Japan, I look and sound the part of a Japanese woman enough that I suspect I strike people as just weird and a little stupid. I feel this way pretty often in stores, train stations, information desks, hotels, taxis, etc.

But do I put on a fake American accent and pretend I don’t speak Japanese well? That wouldn’t exactly solve my problem of feeling like I can’t be myself in Japan, would it? Do I tell people every time “I’m an American”?…Right, because then people won’t think I’m weird at all. I’d just confuse people.

The struggle continues, I guess.