A Gamble in Japan
Joan Kim (Syosset High School)
When I was younger I used to despise Japan. I thought it was Japan who taken away my grandfather,
leaving my dad without a father and my grandmother without a husband. In 1948, the war had separated
my grandfather while he was on a business trip in Japan, forcing him to settle there temporarily and then
permanently. During those years, my grandfather, thinking his wife and child had died, married a Japanese
woman and had another son. He began a few businesses and was very successful. Eventually he came to
understand that his wife and child in Korea were still alive and living in America. He began to send money
to help support my grandmother and father. One day, my parents and I went to visit him in Japan. Forty
years had passed since my father had met his father.

I remember my dad lifting me out of a car, whispering in my ear, “Joan, don’t forget what I told you.

Remember to bow politely.” My parents, luggage in one hand and my hands in the other, walked towards
the building with whimsical designs on the windows. Rolling the front door to the right, my jaw dropped at
the sight of hundreds of strange machines. I had never seen anything like it, except it reminded me of a
room in Las Vegas that I was not allowed to enter. My mother, fluent in Japanese, called out someone’s
name and flipping back to Korean, said: “We’re here!” After a moment, we heard the sound of creaking
wood and a clatter of pots; then an elderly couple appeared at the bottom of the stairs. These strangers were
my grandparents.

Starting from scratch, my grandfather had started a casino business and at one point in time, owned
over three buildings in Japan’s most industrious cities. “Pachinko,” said my grandfather, as he beckoned me
to come and sit in front of one of the machines. Ignoring my parents’ protests that I was too young to
gamble, my grandfather took out a coin for me to insert into an opening. As soon as the coin hit the bottom,
the machine sprang to life and began to show images of a singing mermaid. After a minute or two, the
machine spit out two silver marbles, and that was my first introduction to Japan’s most popular pinball
machine. Tired of the crowded and polluted cities, my grandfather had moved to the countryside of Nagano.

Customers interested in pachinko were scarce, but strangely, my grandfather continued to open his doors
every morning to his small business. The building was surrounded by rice patties and somewhere, there
must have been a bean field because my step grandmother always brought in a basketful of cooked string
beans. To this day, I cannot forget the way these furry pods popped out sweet beans into my mouth.

These memories are vague, yet they stay with me. As I got older and began to learn about the culture
and history of Japan, I realized that it was the war, not the country or the people that I disliked. I realized
that, in a way, Japan had saved my grandfather and provided him with great success, even allowing my
family to be financially supported after immigrating to America from Korea.

Many things have changed since I left Japan in 1995. My grandfather’s buildings had become
bankrupt and were sold for very cheap prices. Recently, he passed away, leaving his Japanese wife and son
in Japan, and another elderly Korean wife in America who still remembered what he wore on their first
date. Seeing that generation fade away, I dearly wished that I were older and more successful. I wanted to
help my step-grandmother and my sick uncle, but I did not know how…That is, until I learned about a
Japanese language course at my high school. Dropping four years of honors Spanish courses, I enrolled in
Japanese Level 1 as a senior at Syosset High school. Sad that I did not find out about this course any
sooner, I am faithfully studying my hiragana, katakana and ru, and u-verbs and plan to continue in college.

I only hope for the day that I am able to meet my Japanese family again and tell them how much I waited
for this day to come in fluent Japanese.

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