Osaka

Hi again readers (if any), hahaha

Today is my seventh day in Osaka, Japan. How is it going, you ask? I'm fine, as always.. First of all, I am healthy and safe. I am surrounded by amazing housemates and friends, and I am taken care of by wonderful program directors and landlords. I am starting to believe that everywhere I go, there are guardian angels protecting me, and as long as I am not too reckless, I will be nudged towards the right path. Anyways, I just got back from the gym, and I am blogging as I wait for the dinner with a friend at eight.. So here goes!

This program I am participating is called CET Osaka, and one of it's special features is the fact that we get to live with a specially assigned Japanese roommate. I live in a 8-person house (4 American students, 4 Japanese roommates), and my roommate, Shouta-kun, lives in the room right next to me. First of all, this semester might not be as academically intense as Amherst, but this semester really taught me to live. Japan is a very sophisticated society to navigate in, whose members have very little tolerance for people who deviate from the social norm.

I am currently in the midst of settling down, trying to better improve my communication skills with my Japanese roommates, and figuring out the dos and the don'ts of living in Japan. In the past seven days, I have learned that, among other things: 1) It is unacceptable to eat anything rice-based and walk (although something as tiny as sushi or onigiri) in Japan, but it is okay to eat bread while walking. 2) Phones are forbidden in the gym, even if you only use it to listen to music. MP3 players are cool though. 3) In the event of an earthquake, you need to rush to open a window or a door. There are further things that I haven't learned properly yet, like how to throw out trash. There are designated days in the week to dispose garbage, and on different times you can only throw out certain things. You have to use a clear plastic bag, and you may not put the garbage the night before.

If Singapore is a fine city, where order is kept through punitive measures and cost-prohibitive fines, Japan's order is maintained from social pressure and norms. From silent, judgmental stares to blatant criticism, the middle aged people here seem to try their best to make sure that everyone else is doing things the way it's supposed to be done. Of course, it's the society's business. Children here are taught to put the collective before the individual, and to always be mindful of how one's actions might impact others. That is not to say that everyone follows the rules. Occasionally, we get to see the oddball who slurps his cup ramen casually in the train, or older Japanese workers throwing up on the side of the street after drinking stupor.

Thus, it has been an interesting experience. I am starting to understand why a lot of people feel that living in the Japanese society is stressful, and I have an inkling that the Japanese people might care even more about their 'face' than the Chinese people. But yes, this is a place where I can be as polite as much as I would like to be and find someone who is even more polite. And yes, this is a place where I get to bow to other people and instead of getting judged, I get a bow back. It feels pretty nice!

Thank you,

Surabaya

Ahh.. Some things never really change, do they?

I am born-and-bred a metropolitan boy, but my dad actually grew up in Surabaya, Indonesia's second largest city.. (which was unfortunately the city of origin of the recent Airasia plane incident.) I am lucky, very lucky, that my dad relented to my mom and moved to Jakarta before they had me.

I grew up having the privileges of living in a capital city, but at least once a year, during the Chinese New Year, I will have to be forced to go to Surabaya, to visit my paternal granddad and my dad's side of family. Surabaya is rustic, and rusty; I have never had good memories of visiting her. Surabaya was always filled with mosquitoes and poor bedding, with noisy cousins who speak Bahasa Indonesia with a weird accent. Family relations were full of tension at best; sometimes the fuse would blow up. I remember always dreading my visit there, and I always looked forward to go to the airport to fly back to Jakarta.

When it was my turn to study to the States, with it came with the right (and later it became a burden) to not go back home during Chinese New Year. It was a fair deal to me, in the beginning, at least. I called back home and wished them happy Chinese New Year, and it would save me the hassle of going to Surabaya and meeting extended relatives I barely know.

My grandpa then fell severely ill around two months back. It was suffice to say that he needed to be flown to Singapore in a chartered plane for an emergency procedure, and let's just say that the doctors pulled a miracle and gave him a second life.

I could never communicate properly with my grandpa. He immigrated to Surabaya from 厦门 in his teens, and went straight to work instead of going to school. As a result, he spoke a mixture of Bahasa, Javanese, 闽南话， and 普通话。Given the fact that I never understood 闽南话 and I only learned 普通话 two years ago, I am very pleased of myself if I can understand fifty percent of what my granddad is saying. Most of the time, though, the words that come out from his mouth seemed like gibberish, and if I'm lucky I my dad or my aunts would translate his words for me. If not, I would just nod politely, smile, and attempt to come up with something that was tangential to his questions and remarks.

My granddad isn't the easiest person to get along with, either. He isn't the most patient or polite of people; and he is very stubborn. There was some life decisions he made that his kids would never have condoned. I haven't been able to appreciate him up until this moment. It is a pity that such is human nature, only when you realize something is scarce and about to be taken away you start to value it. My grandpa's hard work was the reason I am living my life comfortably and travelling around the world right now. He survived on powdered milk, tap water, and 馒头s when he crossed the South China Sea to avoid persecution. He was open-minded (and wealthy) enough to send my dad to USA for his tertiary education. He named me 林耀宗，and thus the duty is on me to make his name fragrant. (I am his eldest inner grandson)

I remembered how, when I was small I stayed in Surabaya, I couldn't sleep well and went downstairs. Granddad was watching television, and he taught me how to open and eat 葵花子s. I also remembered when I was studying in Singapore, he would come occasionally and treat me to very good meals in Orchard Paragon's Crystal Jade, his favorite restaurant. Funniest is when he told me to get some fried rice for myself as he saw I was losing a lot of weight due to the stress in Singapore. He assured me that the fried rice is cheap, and the "cheap" fried rice turned out to be from... din tai fung. Hahahahaha

As I visited his home yesterday evening, and the first thing he told me and my dad was to climb to the second floor and pray to our ancestors. Afterwards, I sank in his sofa, I noticed how time seems to be immortalized in his house. I was sitting on the same sofa that I sat on fifteen years ago, looking at the same newspaper clippings on his mahogany table, and watching from the very same television. I have grown into an adult, into a man who felt compelled to show his grandpa a picture of his girlfriend on his phone. At the same time, I felt that these rusticness grounds me; it keeps me rooted, it makes me remember who I am.. Or at least who I have been.

My granddad was very healthy compared to two months ago. We had a dimsum this morning, and then we took him to stroll in a nearby mall. However, some things about his house really changed.. It started with the broken water and piping systems, and then this time a lot of his house's lighting wasn't working. If a person's dwellings signify his life, this does not bode well.. I am very grateful for whatever time I have left with him, and I am very grateful for the opportunity of seeing him once more before I leave for Japan in two weeks' time.

However, I cannot keep myself from wondering.. if, upon his departure, will I cut all my ties with Surabaya? The only compelling reason to visit this place will only be nostalgia, and we all know that we must not look at the rear view mirror too often if we are to drive a car forward. Nonetheless, I am grateful to be back. I get to see my solid roots, and I will never forget them. And I hope I can do you proud, grandpa. Hopefully I get to see you again.. Love you.

Yours,
林耀宗

Unfortunately, I didn't have the chance to convey even a tenth of this to my own grandpa. I will probably never have the opportunity to. However, I believe that some things are better left unsaid, and some words are meant to be unspoken...