Journey to a Japanese Family
Ethan Hamilton (Horace Mann High School)
I may not remember any other “firsts,” those landmark accomplishments parents keep track of. But I
do remember one – my first favorite book. It was “Grandfather’s Journey” by Allen Say. Maybe it was the
beautiful illustrations, or maybe it was that my own beloved Grandpa always added in some personal
anecdotes, but this autobiographical story was the beginning of my own parallel journey to Japan.

Almost everything in my room has relevance to Japan. From the reproductions of Ukiyoe prints or the
Japanese style Buddha to the Domo-kun piggybank, I’ve assembled artifacts of Japanese culture through
careful purchases. Suddenly I sip my Oi-Ocha and snap back to the present. I was lost in my own little
Japan again. While other kids dream of becoming rock or sports stars, my own fantasies center on
connecting with a culture that I believe epitomizes both aesthetic and spiritual beauty. In addition to reading
that first story about Japan to me, my Grandfather introduced me to his own Japanese treasures. Grandpa
shared his books about Hokusai and Hiroshige and later read to me about the Showa, Edo and Meiji
periods. Perhaps my favorite among his treasures was his teapot collection, which somehow survived my
enthusiastic handling.

My Grandfather, however, couldn’t have grown up further from Japan. A first generation Jewish kid
from the Bronx, he enlisted in the army as soon as he was old enough after WWII broke out. Never having
been out of New York, he was shipped overseas once his training was complete. By the time he arrived in
Japan, the war was finally over. Grandpa was astonished not only by the hideous devastation resulting from
the war but also, by complete culture shock. He explained how being in Japan changed the way he looked
at everything. So much so in fact, that he came to feel more at home abroad than he had back in NY. He
illustrated his stories with gifts – a ceramic Buddha he’d fallen in love with and bought with his soldier’s
salary. A cinnabar box upon which my fingers have traced and retraced the carved cherry blossoms. I came
to understand why Grandpa had selected “Grandfather’s Journey” for me. It was striking how it was almost
the inverse of Grandpa’s own journey.

We continued to explore Japan as much as possible from home. This bond between us never felt
complete without an actual trip to our spiritual homeland. I’d been studying Japanese in school and had
completed my Bar-Mitzvah into adulthood. Grandpa began to plan meticulously and we debated our
itinerary passionately. Should we focus on Tokyo and be thorough or spread our precious days across the
country thereby having only a brief visit in each place? Because Grandpa and I both had medical problems
– and because neither of us ever did anything lightly – we settled on an intensive visit to Tokyo. From our
first lunch at a noisy noodle shop (soba for me, udon for Grandpa) to the shrine of the 47 Ronin, there was
nothing that appealed to only one of us. Together we drew fortunes at Asakusa and Grandpa, remembering
a long-ago visit, showed me how to light an incense offering. It was certainly the trip of a lifetime and
perhaps you can tell by now that it ended very sadly. Despite great effort, Grandpa’s heart, always
brimming with love, could last no longer. I made the trip home alone.

Thus it was with mixed emotion that I signed up for a homestay in suburban Tokyo last summer. Once
the Nakahamas picked me up, it was easy to fall in with the rhythms of their lives. At last I had two
brothers and between visiting Hiroaki’s school, playing PS2 for hours, or just joining in with the family’s
Sunday barbecue, I had much to distract me from my bittersweet memories. One weekend, the Nakahamas
planned a journey to Kamakura and along the way, we enjoyed eating at a decades-old family-run noodle
house. Unlike the lunchtime restaurant Grandpa had taken me to in Tokyo, it was a quiet place where we
sat at tables instead of at a counter. In a way, I now feel as though I have my own family in Japan. Still,
however, I dream of making another journey when my Japanese is fluent and my brothers and I can laugh
at my awkwardness when we first met. Above all, as I strive to accomplish this goal, I will always try to
make Grandpa proud.

Bibliography: Say, Allen. Grandfather’s Journey. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1993. Print.

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