Currently viewing the tag: "Japan"

I had the pleasure of attending the Full Frame Documentary Festival again this year.  There were so many incredible films to see and I was grateful to have been able to squeeze “The Tsunami and the Cherry Blossom” into the very busy schedule.

So, how would I describe this forty minute Oscar nominated documentary about the horrific tsunami that ravaged Japan in 2011?

Bone chilling and healing.  Two very different words, but precisely the ones that most accurately describe this masterpiece.

The film opens with a scene that still haunts me:  People standing on a hill watching the wave hit and their city being destroyed, calling out to others on lower ground to “hurry” to higher ground while a black, relentless wave that sends houses floating like surfers creeps in after them. Watch the first minute of this video, which is an abbreviated piece of the opening scene – but it gives you a sense of the shock, angst and pain that we all felt in that theater:

We sat there with chills covering our bodies, tears streaming down our faces.  Some people were howling.  It was so very real.

Nature can be so very cruel.  And then, it can drastically shift gears, suddenly and unexpectedly becoming the source of healing. In fact, it can be an immense, emotional tidal wave of healing, as this film illustrates.

Enter stage left: the cherry blossoms.  Their ability to return, despite mother nature’s overwhelming wave, represent a rebirth and hope.

Although cherry blossom gathering parties were cancelled in 2011, many people ventured out to see the beauty of the trees. We learn that the cherry blossom has ten stages before full bloom.  Each stage has its own word to describe it.  When the flowers die and fall, they are given a different name.  These delicate pink flowers, with unwavering beauty and death, have often been associated with mortality.  They are a fitting symbol of what the people of the Miyagi Prefecture witnessed.

This film is powerful tool for educators.  It can be used to illustrate the power of nature, to discuss the history of a tragedy and to reflect upon culture.  I am confident that you will remember this documentary for a very long time.  Let it and the lessons of the cherry blossoms stay with you.

Visit the film’s website for more information.

 

 




Today I’m going to pose a question based on a book I’ve been reading – “Hokkaido Highway Blues: Hitchhiking Japan” by Will Ferguson.  This book documents his hitchhiking trip from the southern most point of Japan to the northern most point.  He tells witty tales about the range of people that he meets, illustrates the link between behavior and culture, and references how he is constantly assumed to be an American (he is Canadian.)

While the book is enjoyable, playful, informative and engaging, there was one page that really resonated with me. That was page 113.

Page 113 spoke of the phenomenon of realizing, for the first time in your life, that you are a visible minority abroad. This page is a terrific discussion tool for pre-departure and re-entry.  Here is the quote from Ferguson who is attending a popular public event in Japan:

“I wended my way through and the crowds parted like the sea before Moses…Schoolchildren openly gawked, jaws gaping…Men watched my every move as if I might pull out a handgun and start shooting at any moment…

“A foreigner, look!” A flock of high-school girls burst past in a flurry of nervous laughter, and boys, brave after the fact, whispered “Harro!” to the back of my head. “Ah, we have a guest from American here today,” said the disembodied voice of the P.A. system, the voice of a decidedly tinny god. Maybe he will sing a song for us later.”

…That I, so very average and unexceptional, should cause a stir among these bright crowds of costumes gives a new perspective on the idea of exotic. I remember a trip to a Japanese zoo, and how the children turned their backs on the caged wildebeest and watched me instead. ‘More interesting than a wildebeest’ became my personal motto after that.  It was oppressive at times. What I wouldn’t give to be a Japanese-American, to be able to blend in without a ripple, to attend a spectacle without becoming one, to be able to relax.  When your face doesn’t fit the national dimensions you find yourself in an observer-affected universe; your presence alters actions, and the very act of observing changes that which is observed. You cannot slip by unnoticed.  You cannot forget the pigment that you present to the world. If nothing else, Japan has taught me what it is like to be a visible minority, and it is a hard lesson to learn.”

I read this and stopped in my tracks. I was immediately transported back to India, to a day that I had looked forward to for my entire life. I was in Agra, taking time off during a business trip, to see the Taj Mahal.  I started my day at the Red Fort, where I caught my first glimpse of the Taj Mahal.  It took my breath away. The light was so soft, the colors so perfect, it almost appeared to be floating.  I was in awe. Speechless.  Gazing.

And then it happened.

A group of school children approached me with cameras.  They were smiling and giggling.  They pointed.  I looked around, wondering what they were pointing at.  Was I missing something? Perhaps there was someone famous here – maybe a Bollywood star or politician? I glanced to my left, to my right.  I looked in the distance, wondering if something was going on at the Taj that I had missed?  And then I realized.

They were looking. At. me. The foreigner.  The lady who wasn’t with a group of children or her husband.  The lady with the light skin and a lavender backpack.

I suddenly became more interesting than the Red Fort or the Taj Mahal.  My presence altered actions.  I could not slip by unnoticed.  It felt strange, unsettling.  And as Ferguson said, it was a hard lesson to learn.

When one is preparing to go abroad to a place where they will stand out, simply because of their skin, hair or eye color, size or shape, how does one truly prepare?  And when one returns home, how does one take that hard lesson and relate it back to the home country? How does this lesson change the lens that one sees the world through?

I hope that this discussion takes place in both pre-departure and re-entry gatherings.  Being more interesting that a wildebeest or the Taj Mahal is a challenge, to say the least.  So today, I ask Melibee readers:  How are you making these visible minority experiences teachable moments? What did you learn when it happened to you the first time?

(If you have a visible minority lesson to share – please click on “comment.” You do not need to register to comment on the blog nor will you be added to a mailing list. But if you do sign up for the Melibee newsletter in the upper right hand column of the home page, you may win a book by one of the Melibee  speakers – Ibrahim Abdul-Matin!)

Here is a link to Will Ferguson’s book about his experience in Japan:

 

 

 


List Price: $25.00 USD
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Release date July 1, 2003.




An enormous earthquake hit Japan on Friday, March 11.  For those of you looking for friends, family and students there, please use  this important tool that Google set up after the Haiti earthquake :

If you are concerned about your study abroad students in Japan, please refer to this posting (from the New Zealand earthquake) which references action steps for those of you who don’t have a firm emergency process for your campus.

Our thoughts and prayers go out to everyone in Japan and any areas impacted by the tsunamis that have followed.

(Melibee Global offers consulting on emergency and safety planning.  Should you be interested in learning more, please contact us at info@melibeeglobal.com.)




Here are 3 interesting videos that highlight the importance of non-verbal communication. If you will study, volunteer, intern or travel abroad, the following video clips are useful resources that highlight how a simply gesture, turn of the head or handshake can convey a much deeper meaning.  (If you are a study abroad adviser, add these links to your toolkit for pre-departure or in country orientation meetings.)

The first video is a clip from a BBC documentary.  It provides various examples of non-verbal communication including hand shakes, head nods, and hand gestures for places such as Mali, India, Turkey, Greece, the US, England, Italy and more.  It does a nice job of explaining some of the history of these non-verbals:

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This appears to have been prepared by students (who selected some great music!) and focuses on non-verbals in India:

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This is specifically about the various uses of silence in Japan:

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A Mirkitani Cat

I recently discovered a documentary entitled “The Cats of Mirikitani.” While preparing to write about it, I took a peek at the film’s trailer. It has no words of introduction – only music. It makes perfect sense once you see this film, as it will leave you without words and perhaps only a very full heart and a need for a box of tissues! It is hard to describe the power of the story of Tsutomo (Jimmy) Mirikitani and his journey to healing from the pain of war, loss and homelessness.  Here is the short trailer:

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I stumbled across “The Cats of Mirikitani,” which tells the true story of Jimmy Mirikitani, a Japanese American artist, who becomes homeless in New York City. The tragedy of 9/11 provided an opportunity for him to build trust with a local filmmaker, Linda Hattendorf.  As time marched on, Hattendorf helped to peel back the layers of Mirikitani’s life. Through this incredible film, we discover that Mirikitani, born in California and therefore a US citizen, was put in a Japanese interment camp for 3 1/2 years during the war. He was pressured to renounce his US citizenship. Although he ended up homeless, he continued to draw while living on the streets of lower Manhattan. Hattendorf lived around the corner from his usual hang out and she regularly filmed 80 year old Mirikitani and his drawings in the months before 9/11.

On September 11th, the planes hit the towers and Mirikitani again addressed his emotions through art. He drew the tragedy of the towers just as he drew the pain of the internment camp at Tule Lake and the devastation of Hiroshima. And when the toxic dust fell across lower Manhattan, Hattendorf searched the streets for Miritakani and invited him to stay with her in her tiny apartment. She continued to film him as they shared the same space.

We realize, as the film progresses, that his life story has lived in the art that he has drawn every day for years – the significance of the cats, the mountain, the persimmons.  With each scene of trust building between Mirikitani and Hattendorf, we learn more about the tragedy of an artist’s career being stolen from him by the forced internment, the family that he lost in both Hiroshima and the US, the pain and anger that he lives with, and how his art kept him going.

One of Mirikitani's drawings of the internment camp.

I won’t give away the ending, but I will strongly suggest that you have a handkerchief nearby!  I will say that the power of Hattendorf’s humanity and the beauty of this aging artist’s soul develop into an incredible tale that yields many life lessons.  Here is what this film made me ponder:

1) Behind the eyes of a homeless person is a life that I know nothing about – and when I don’t know about something or someone, I should ask and learn.

2) September 11, 2001 and December 7, 1941 are two dates that will live in our history books.  How we have responded to those two dates is increasingly important. We learned in time that Japanese internment camps were simply cruel and unjust.  Perhaps we will also explore the idea that demonizing all of Islam for the acts of a handful of terrorists is also cruel and unjust.

3) Art has the power to heal.  Time has the power to heal.  Place has the power to heal. Compassion has the power to heal. The most unlikely combination of people possible – a “40-something” film maker and an 80 year old homeless man – they have the power to move mountains.

This is a film that should be used in the classroom. It is appropriate for high school and college level students, and can be used in any of the following disciplines:  Sociology, Social Work, Cross-Cultural Communication, History, Film, Politics, Art, Art Therapy, and more.

Mirikitani’s work will be on display from January 15 – March 26, 2011 at the Japanese Canadian National Museum in Crescent Burnaby, BC (Canada).

I’ll simply close with Jimmy Mirikitani’s favorite expression, “Make Art, Not War!”

Cats of Mirikitani (DVD)

Director: Linda Hattendorf
Starring: Jimmy Tsutomu Mirikitani
Rating: NR (Not Rated)


List Price: $29.95 USD
New From: $14.32 In Stock
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Release date January 12, 2010.




Art by Nikita Hunter

As a young child,  I lived in Rego Park, New York.  For those of you not from the United States, Rego Park is in Queens, one of the 5 boroughs of New York. Each year, the Police Athletic League (PAL) would offer a contest for school kids in this urban environment and give out trophies.  At the age of 8, I won a trophy for a poem and picture that I drew about “my neighborhood.”  I remember receiving the trophy from some man that made my mother’s eyes bulge out of her head with shock and joy.  He walked us to the subway and she was beaming!  (As I grew older, I realized the significance of that man joining us for a stroll to the subway. That man was James Earl Jones, the actor who played Darth Vader in Star Wars!)

While on the internet tonight, I came across this beautiful video about a local school in Brooklyn – another of the 5 boroughs of New York. Nikita Hunter, a middle school teacher, participated in a Fulbright program to Japan and upon her return home, reflected on how she could share the culture most effectively with her young students.  The video below shows her very creative and successful attempt at doing so.

Ms. Hunter’s approach reminds me of the teacher’s power to expand the imagination, creativity and interest in other cultures in our youth.  It made me think how much more interesting the PAL contest that I participated in at the age of 8 would have been if I was asked to write a poem or draw a picture about my home AND another child’s home abroad – what culture would I selected? How would I have researched it at that age? What would my young mind have imagined another child’s home abroad to feel like?

Please enjoy “Japanese Me” as much as I did:

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