It is here that the fashion trends make their debut. It is here that the oldest live. It is here that the people are touted as close minded, bound by values, expectations and tradition, unable to breakthrough. When we are reading our papers and playing our games, juvenile suicides here, are on the rise even as you read this, word, after word. A fast pace of life dependent on their modern infrastructure and the latest in technologies, everything is instant, accessible. They give it many names, one of which is Nihon. And so it is here, that Koichi Suginaka lives and will live, for his journey, is what I would call, the beginning of an ending.
3 am, 5 hours of sleep to day one at work, but it had not mattered to the young man who turned 24 just 3 hours ago. A reserved soft spoken man, the fresh graduate found a job at a day care centre, and it had not struck him as anything queer to be taking care of these four year olds when he could have been off at a public school. It did not strike him as anything silly, or stupid if I may say, that a man who graduated with a degree in English was taking care of a bunch of rascals. Rascals he would call them, for he was never a fan.
The night had ended, and morning was already here but the faster the morning graced him, the wider he was awake. He was not nervous, neither was he scared. The man just, could not sleep. As he lay in bed in his apartment in Tokyo, where the lights were never turned off, and the billboards ever changing, so were the memories in his mind that was deeply rooted, never to be faded way. I guess that is an inevitability regardless of the situation because through the passage of time, everything may pass, but the memories, we always keep.
Nisshi,
I got to go out with Rukawa and Takeshi today but when I went home, daddy asked why I came home so late. Why I never studied. But I did. Rukawa also went home late but he never got scolded. He never needed to do the dishes but I had to. If I was lucky, I would not get slapped as long as I did it quick. Takeshi is going away. His father is bringing him to Disneyland. I’m sure that he will have fun. I wish I could too but I know the day will not come. He always called me a bother, that I was a rascal.
Jan 2 1990.
The alarm rang like a school bell, a sound he did not want to wake to or familiarize with. It took him a year before he decided to get the job. He needed clothes to look decent, wax to do his hair, food to satisfy the appetite. He once wondered what was so upbeat about the times where poverty was rife. Now he knew. The pay was decent, and the interview a breeze. Koichi was a man that you would definitely call laidback. He put on his velvet jacket accompanied by his striped shirt that looked almost perfect. It was his signature look that he decided to splurge on the last time he got allowance from his parents who had now given up on this prodigal son. He was now on his own and also on his way. On his way to a workplace he knew he would dread but was willing to put himself through just for the sake of money, expectations and plain naivety.
“The kids here are mostly four year olds. What you do is simple. All we need is someone to give them the attention they need and the guidance they deserve. Nap time is 3pm. We do activities in the morning but that’s handled by me for today. You must be around though to make sure they are fine and not doing something else. As you know, parents are very particular and the last thing we want to do is offend them. The rest of the curriculum is here in the folder that I passed to you earlier on when we met. Any questions yet Mr. Suginaka?”
“Please, call me Koichi. Koichi is fine for me madam. No questions yet. I look forward to this job.”
Sure he was. Koichi had got himself into a mess he underestimated but that never bothered him, at least not yet. So 9am it was, as he waltzed his way into class. It looked just like the old times, during his fraternity days as a student, only smaller. Very much smaller and this time filled with kids, Many kids.
“Children, come sit around.” The director said.
He had forgotten her name already but he was sure it was in the folder. She was a middle aged woman, who seemed to have been there for a reasonable amount of time. The bespectacled lady must have been a lover for kids he though. That was exactly complementary to Koichi. But I guess it was not a problem since he was the only one who knew that.
“This is Mr. Suginaka. He will be your new teacher so all of you have to listen to him. Are we clear children?”
The kids nodded in silence for a short bit, before an ecstatic and enthusiastic cheer followed which he swore irritated him to his gut.
“Good morning kids.”
The day had just begun and it was sinking in but he took comfort in the amount of work he had to do and thought immediately that time would pass quickly as soon as he made himself busy. Trust me when I say, he could not wait when the clock struck at 3pm. It would aptly apply then, that silence is golden.
SCHEDULE
0900-1000 Coloring
1000-1100 Breakfast
1100-1200 Puzzles and games
1200-0100 Playground time
0100-0200 Lunch
0200-0300 Story telling
0300-0400 Nap
0400-0500 Cartoons/ Videos (Decided by choice based on roster at the next page)
The young man who was now officially a day care teacher stared at his watch blankly, trying to fathom the fact only two hours had passed. A man that was once served in such spoilt fashion was now ironically, paid to serve these “angelic” kids; these rascals. The rose among the thorns was what you would call Koichi’s first problem and her name was Naomi Amuro.
Black was the colour of her short wavy hair, and her eyes seemed to sparkle in the most enchanting of ways. Naomi Amuro was a toddler who was constantly oblivious to the space around her. In other words, she was the definition of purity and simplicity.
The young man felt as though time was trapped in a capsule, that time was yet again, passing so slowly when in fact the time for cartoons, videos and going home was soon to come. Ironically at this point, he could not relate to the fact that the first day at that day care centre was about to end.
Parents rushed in to pick their kids up as though picking up reserved goods from a store. Koichi could not help but blame them for the state he was in right now; a state which made him look and feel like a lifeless and pathetic soul that served kids.
As a jubilant face masqueraded Koichi, he escorted the kids out one by one aversely. Funny how all the kids left the day care hastily except for that bright-eyed girl, Naomi.
The immaculate girl embraced Koichi. One which was earnest but wasn’t enough to impress Koichi that Naomi was genuine.
Koichi stood there, motionless, numb.
Nisshi,
Rukawa and Takeshi are very close to their parents. Whenever they leave their homes, they would hug their parents. I really envy them both and I do not know why I never got a chance to do that. I always wanted to hug them, but they are always busy. Yesterday, I tried to look for them before I left the house for school but Daddy was on the phone, and Mummy was out in the garden. Are they too busy for me? Do you think they love me?
Jan 10 1990.
Koichi stepped into the day care centre on the following day. It felt stale to him, he felt out of his depth in that place. The day seemed like it was a carbon copy of the previous day, a routine which he knew will be stuck to him for a while.
That hug lingered around his head, he tried to eliminate it but his mind was so consumed with that retrospective thought.
As the day progressed, Naomi was the one kid at the day car centre whom Koichi kept observing. He simply did not understand the meaning of this all.
12 pm and it was playground time. Koichi’s task as a day care teacher was to bring all the thrilled kids to a playground nearby for games like catching and sand castle building. Mundane would be the word that I would use to describe Koichi’s feel during playground time as.
Naomi isolated herself from the other kids. She did not look as though she was lonely neither did she look like she was cheerless. She was engulfed in her own world of sand-castle building.
“Mr. Suginaka?” Naomi called for the young man harmlessly.
Needless to say Koichi had to attend to her needs, or in his perspective, he had to serve her.
“Yes Naomi? What’s on your mind?”
Naomi did not respond to that question but just gave him a pile of sand from her palms and smiled naturally at him.
It was not like him to reciprocate to children’s offers but he did, reluctantly.
The sweetness of 5 pm arrived and Koichi had to wait for the mad rush of parents once again. It was a moment when he would usually feel plastic and unreal. This time though, it was different for him. So there it was, that the man who seemed to loath his job or rather the content of what the job consisted of, now felt a tinge of difference. As the end of yet another day dawned upon him, he found himself, this time, ushering Naomi to her parents, which left him in awe, not in awe of what Naomi did for him, but in awe of himself, his own actions.
Sitting on a bench by a playground with the “backdrop” of the beautiful evening sun, Koichi gazed out and looked at the playground or rather the other side of life where the pasture seemed greener, He saw adults along with several other kids. As he allowed them to enter his confidence, He saw what they saw.
In the eyes of a child, they saw no hate, they saw no obsession, they saw no greed and they never saw materialism. Yet in their eyes were of such pure innocence and the tears rolling down only when they seemed to had lost their favorite toy or when their parents left them to go for work or when play had to stop because of rain. Their point of sadness was brought about through genuine loss with neither loss nor gain in their world; their world of innocence. They had no worries, no bills to worry about, clothes to think of or girls to be bogged down by. Their world was, it was in fact nothing. They were for themselves with everything in the world provided for them.
In the eyes of us, we valued war over lives at stake when it came to possession of rights. We spoke of freedom of speech but we were yet killed or banned from what we wanted to say. We valued our faces more than truth. We hid what was in the stash and took out what looked good in the trophy cabinet. In the eyes of us, we seemed to absorb the fact that our way to survive was to pry open the harsh reality of intent of us humans.
In the eyes of the infants, they had a world of their own, a world they created subconsciously along with other infants, other kids that allowed us adults to enter the realm of their world but never to be part of their world. We were past that already, everybody has it once. That is why we experience nostalgia from time to time.
So home he went, for tomorrow was still to come.
Nisshi,
I love the playground. I have so much fun there and I am not stopped by anyone or anything. I wish my whole life was in a playground then I would not need to face other things already.
Jan 20 1990.
Fall for myself.
The rain fell mercilessly on the ground as I gazed out to the window. It wasn’t heavy, it wasn’t light either. It just seemed, never to stop. It was the kind where you couldn’t really see rain until you heard the pitter and the patter as it hit the ground. The cars that passed by every two seconds made the rain ever more present. The breeze that went through the grills of my window sent their greetings of course. However, it was the day, that sat me down as I gazed out. Mallow skies, colored apartments and hotels that seemed to be all of the same color in one fell swoop; a dull pale yellow, an overcast sky if you like.
If I looked carefully, I could see what was on the television in the unit of the apartment opposite mine.
And if I zoomed out of that focus, I could see the colors of the clothes hung out by forgetful or probable sleeping neighbors. When was the last time I would pay attention to these details and take time to appreciate my surroundings. I could not recall. When was the last time I headed out to fool around or get drunk with my blokes, catch a decent movie or make out in the sea of my blankets with God knows who. Every damn day, I’ll tell you that much.
Am I having one of my epiphanic moments you ask. Why, no. I’m merely learning to fall for myself.
I would sit myself down and call the people that mattered. Send an email to my father who was somewhere in Europe, enjoying the fruits of his labor. I would take a decent shave and sink my anatomy in a nice warm bubble bath. Get dressed decently in case a guest might stop by. Audrey Hepburn would sing to me as I fed on glamorized alcohol that people deemed as wine, smiling, to Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Paying the bills, going for a run and cleaning up the house would be next. Working on my long due assignments would come at long last, as I sat down, enjoyably to wine and to delve in the passion of my work.
If I looked carefully, I could see what was on the television in the unit of the apartment opposite mine.
The news was on. But yet I wasn’t so sure. The rain got heavier, makings its presence much more seen and heard. I couldn’t afford to confirm my affirmations. I had assignments to do, my grandmother to call and my dad to email. I had Bills to pay and my long awaited bubble bath. Photographs of my surroundings to be taken. My self promised runs and household chores. But all that could wait. For now the rain had invited me to bed, once again. The ever enticing bed made an offer simply too ard to resist. But I promise, I will be ascetic to my tasks later. Please, please, let me get what I want.
Sleep.
Goodnight.
Later.
