One Year Closer

A First Grade Papa Sudo (with a model) posing for a magazine cover shoot

You know when things that are hopelessly ridiculous try and get serious and it just makes them that much more ridiculous? Well, unfortunately that is the way that my final post in Japan is headed.

Up until now, I have not made any reference to the incredible tragedy that this country went through a few months back. The truth of the matter is that here in Tokyo, you would never know. I have felt a few small earthquakes which were an occasional reminder, but it wasn't until we were at Hide and Yuka's place and watched some of the absolutely harrowing footage of the airports, streets, trains, and displaced people that I was reminded of what happened here. Masako pointed out the occasional escalator that isn't working or only a few lights in a train station being on. It is not because they don't work, it is because they are conserving energy. I couldn't help but think of the light in the middle of Henry street back home that works when it feels like it. We are not conserving energy...it is broken. It is a matter of pride here in Tokyo that things are NOT broken.

In Tokyo, the travel time between trains and cars is incredibly different. It generally takes longer to get to places by car, and the trains are always on time (unlike my beloved muni that guesstimates when it will show up within a half hour window). The trains here are to the second. They have to be to keep this place moving. For Tokyo to stop or slow down there would be consequence. With that in mind I cannot fathom the ultimate consequence of what happened here after the tragedy. As with everything else it is a matter of pride that this country is not broken..........not in aesthetic, not in function and not in spirit.

The airport in Sendai that we saw covered by the merciless black water is open again.........the road to Iwate is clear........the trains are always on time.

The other night I had a long conversation with the Japanese playwright Daisuke Fujisawa, and I asked him where he was when the earthquake happened. He said that his latest play was set to debut the night after the tragedy and he was in rehearsal. He was so focused on directing the stage that he did not even notice the quake. When he fully realized the magnitude of what had happened, he still opened his play on the night of March 12th, one day after the tragedy. It was a controversial thing to do, but for him failure was not an option. To be beaten and to wallow in sadness instead of picking up and carrying on would be a disservice not only to himself, but to his fellow countrymen.

I asked that question to everyone I could...where were you when it happened? Most people were at home or at work and had a story about things falling, buildings rocking, and how it lasted so long it seemed like it would never end. Each person I have asked has persevered in their own way. The air of uncertainty is lifting and this country is not broken.

The Dahruma

Early on in the trip I learned of the Dahruma. He was a man born into wealth who found his life meaningless and went deep into meditation. Legend has it he sat in the same place in front of a blank wall for nine years. The statue of the Dahruma is a common item and comes in all sizes. we spent an hour taking a lesson and then painting the patterns on his face ourselves. You paint in his right eye and wish for something, and when that thing comes true you can fill in the left. The statues are designed in a certain way that they will always find themselves right side up. This is the lesson of the Dahruma. No matter how you find yourself down, you must always return to your feet. Failure is a huge part of life that each person experiences, but failure means absolutely nothing as long as you keep trying. To not try is unforgivable.

So here I am, one year closer to flowers, in the middle of Tokyo trying to have a clear thought about all of this. I always compare everywhere I travel to where I'm from, and when you do things like compare the subway systems of other cities to that of the cities of California, you are definitely treading into comic territory. It is the easiest thing in the world to find your own personal shortcomings and that of the places you live by visiting a place like Japan.

I noticed is how things like escalators and trains have hardware that is assembled with regular philips head screws instead of the security screws that we see all over San Francisco that you need a permit to get the bit for. I am not saying that some jerkoff with a Dewalt could take these things apart in SF, I'm saying some jerkoff with a Dewalt WOULD take these things apart in SF.

Would I change it if I could?

I am not going to apologize for being a hopeless Californian. There is no other place in the world that I want to live, and there are no words for how much I love my city, my state and my country. The only thing I can say is that I am incredibly blessed to have a family on this side of the globe that give me a window into these thoughts and feelings. Besides, if things in SF weren't thrashed what would me and my dad have to laugh about?


I didn't start traveling the world until my late 20's and now I am officially in my late 30's realizing that the reason why I have such a compulsion to do so is because being away for these short periods is the only way to have somewhat of an omniscient sense of who I am and where I am from.

The other day in Akihabara I was messing with a little radio and I turned the dial ever so slightly and heard the American top 40 dj Rick Dees say, "so and so will have been on earth 37 years this coming monday the 30th and I wish him the best". It was so strange I turned the dial away and walked away pretending it didn't happen........but it did. I have come too far to believe in things such as coincidence and superstition. The world is simply a place where the beautiful and bizarre happens more often than it doesn't.

Beautiful meat from Nagoya

On my last night here we had an incredible dinner at home. The amazing meat I had on my birthday two years ago was shipped here from Nagoya and we had dinner together as a family. Yuka's mom sent me a bouquet of flowers for my birthday. Two years ago I was given flowers on my birthday and it seemed funny to me, but getting them today was just stunning. The arrangement could have been fit for miss America it was so huge. I couldn't help but sit and just stare at them.
Say what you will, throw all the rocks you want, but I seriously can't remember the last time I felt this touched.

So I have to leave here tonight and I usually spend the last day in Japan being sad that I am leaving Japan. I admit that I am sad, but only because I am so overwhelmed by the example set by the people in this country............ especially my family.


One year closer

with love,

Aaron D. Guadamuz
May 30, 2011
Tokyo, Japan