Yellow is the New Black
So, I was at the mall today hanging out with my aunt. We walked past a massage stand, where you could get a quick shoulder/neck massage for 20 minutes at $20. She sat down to get a massage, and as I was sitting down waiting for her an intriguing thing happened. Well, maybe not intriguing, but interesting enough that I couldn’t forget about it all the way home.
A middle-aged Caucasian woman came up to the stand and said to the Chinese owners/employees, “Hey, is my girl here? You know, my girl with the clip in her hair? Is my girl here? I love that girl. Is my girl here?”
She might as well have said, “where’s my n*gger.”
I know she probably isn’t a racist. She probably didn’t mean any harm. The workers didn’t seem to notice or mind, answering back with big smiles and nods. As I was replaying that moment in my mind, asking myself whether I’m simply being overly sensitive, it occurred to me that Middle-Aged-Caucasian-Woman probably would not have referred to Chinese Masseuse as a possessive object had Chinese Masseuse been White Masseuse.
Racism, as in lynchings, “whites only” signs, and by any other blatant means, perhaps doesn’t exist in Los Angeles anymore. But it’s still alive in many other easier to ignore but harder to kill ways and expressions.
And by the way, I think I am being sensitive. It might be because I just started getting into Asian American Studies at school. Categorically, I might fall into the paler, whiter, “pastel Asian” group as according to my family’s literacy and socioeconomic background. But my eyes are opening to the world of those Asians in America who are the deep mustards, ambers, and tans of society.
A call to all suburban Asian kids: we speak English, so let’s speak up for our parents, our people.
Posted by genieinjapan on November 21st, 2007 filed in Daily Life | 2 Comments »Life in L.A.
Today was another one of those (many) days when I wished I were still in Japan. Where public transportation is bliss.
Because today, it took three and a half hours to get to school. My house is 15 miles away from my school. When I come home at night, it takes me about 20 minutes. This morning, it took three and a half hours to drive 15 miles. I could have gone to San Diego and back in that time. Three. And. A. Half. HOURS. Two of my carpoolmates missed class; one missed a big neuroscience midterm. Thankfully, a few more people in the class experienced the same problem and the merciful professor is allowing them to take it tomorrow.
I wanted to rip my steering wheel out or urge the government to invest in flying car technology. And then I came home to read that a man died in the accident, and thousands of more people today were probably more severely affected by the traffic than our car was. People are so self-centered (=me).
Big-rig crash kills 1, snarls the 405
Brian Vander Brug / Los Angeles Times
Investigators remove the body of a victim after a crane crashed on to the 405 Freeway early today.
By Jean-Paul Renaud, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
12:27 PM PDT, October 30, 2007
An early morning big-rig crash today on the southbound Interstate 405 left one person dead near Los Angeles International Airport and blocked traffic for miles, authorities said. It could be early afternoon before the site is cleaned up, California Highway Patrol officials said.
Traffic on the southbound lanes was backed up this morning for nearly two miles, past the 101 Freeway.
Although surface streets were strained earlier in the day, an LAX spokesman said traffic around the airport was returning to normal at midday. But airport spokesman Marshall Lowe said northbound Lincoln Boulevard from Sepulveda Boulevard to Loyola Marymount University remained congested because of construction in the area.A heavy-duty truck carrying a crane crashed into the center divider about 4:45 a.m., CHP Officer Jose Nuñez said. The driver, who has not been identified, was killed, Nuñez said.
“How that happened, or whether or not he was trapped inside the vehicle, we don’t know that yet,” Nuñez said.
Three lanes of the 405, a major commuter road, were blocked in both directions during the morning rush as accident investigators worked at the scene. Once the accident is cleared, Caltrans officials must still assess the damage to the divider.
“If drivers can avoid going around in that area, they should do anything to avoid the 405 southbound,” Nuñez said. “Northbound lanes are affected, but it’s heavier southbound.”
Posted by genieinjapan on October 31st, 2007 filed in Daily Life | Comment now »Happiness & Heroism
I think I’m starting to like independent film. I used to despise them for their renderings of reality–either too extraordinary or too ordinary, and often times without a hero or happy ending. For example, the movie “Lost in Translation.” I hated it. People expect me to like it because it’s Japanesie. Meanwhile, I was waiting around for a plot to start, but it ended and turned out that it was just film of people living. It was unhappy. It was boring.
I just saw “Motel,” starring Sung Kang. It was an independent film. I was complaining about the lack of story when my brother basically told me to sit down, shut up and realize that the beauty is in the lives of the characters. “Motel” was sad, it was perverse, it wasn’t so eventful.
But real people are sad and perverse, and life isn’t always so eventful. Real people and real lives don’t always have happy beginnings. Or happy ends. Or happy middles. The happiness is sprinkled in once in a while; why do people feel that they are entitled to 24-hour happiness?
I’m guilty of that too. But I’m getting content with the fact that I will not always be happily-ever-after-always-and-forever. I’ll probably be happy on my birthday. I’ll be happy on my wedding day. I’ll be happy the day I have children. I’m happy for my friends. I have moments of sheer joy, reading an e-mail or listening to a song. But I don’t have to be happy in-between.
And I don’t have to be a hero(ine) either.
Posted by genieinjapan on October 28th, 2007 filed in Post-STINT | Comment now »ほ～んま久しぶりです。
It’s been nearly two months since I’ve returned to the States from my short stint in Osaka.
A fresh, new life in the States, a fresh, new blog to record it! So much has happened in this past year, the past two months, and I’ve been so busy that I thought, “when it’s all over, I’ll sit down and think about it.” But it’s never over, is it? =)
I don’t want to just whiz through life not thinking, reflecting, ruminating, really absorbing those moments that shape not just my world but the world around me. I guess that’s another thing that became reality to me this year–the life I live is not my own; my actions, my words, my hopes, dreams, character–all of that is not just contained to myself, but whether I like it or not, it’s going to have some effect on people. Whether they are strangers, acquaintances, friends, my family (present and future), what impression do I want to leave upon the world during the fleeting time that I’m on it?
A good one. =)
I was listening to my favorite radio station, KROQ the other day and one of my favorite songs from high school came on the air–”Amber” by 311. In their wise, wise words–”nothing good comes easily / sometimes you’ve got to fight / oh / amber is the color of your energy.” I think they were talking about beer. That’s all good too, but what I mean, is a good, truly good, life is not going to come easily. I’m feeling that lately. But I really, really want it. So I really, really want to fight for it.
Like Starsky & Hutch, “just do it.” =)
Posted by genieinjapan on September 26th, 2007 filed in Post-STINT | 1 Comment »Hisashiburii~
That means “it’s been a long time.”
Today we had our weekly staff meeting. Afterwards, we often have “Fun Time,” ranging from bowling, sharing, just having lunch together, or playing a simple game. Today was a movie–Monster’s Inc. in Japanese. Buuut, I had to step out and “work.” I do that a lot. I think I have a sickness, where I can’t sit and relax…and then I get mad when people get to have fun while I labor away. I have a problem. A student asked me what I do for fun. It was a hard question to answer. What do you do for fun?
Yesterday I went to my first Japanese baseball game–the Hanshin Tigers vs. Chiba Lotte Marines. THAT was fun. I think I love Japanese baseball. I wish I could figure out how to post videos, because wow it was so fun. They have a cheer/song for EVERY SINGLE PLAYER. And all of the fans know it. The away team sings and stands and jumps around for the entire inning that their team is at bat.
I love this picture. This is Sunny, one of my teammates, but she’s expressing the passion that Osaka people have for the game. People from the Kansai region are not ordinary Japanese people. They’re like super human. I love it. 
Seventh-inning stretch was so awesome. Everyone buys their own long-weird-looking balloon things, gets them ready halfway through the seventh, and then releases them all together. So, so good. 
This is like the fan-stand-conductor man. There’s one in every aisle. They’ve got some moves. I wonder how you can qualify to be one.
So cute. They’re wearing Kanemoto jerseys. Apparently, Hanshin fans look up to him as a man of all men, a true blood-brother of the Osaka region. 
My lovely Korean teammates and Singaporean tourists behind us trying to figure out the game of baseball–apparently they don’t have it in their country.
Aisuru (beloved) Koshien. The Hanshin Tigers’ home field.
The day before that I invited Ota-san, a cleaning lady at Handai, to come to church for a special concert. A Campus Crusade staff couple has a music ministry. Their duet is called “Treasures in Jars of Clay,” and they both play the acoustic guitar…and wow they have beautiful voices. They travel Japan and Korea, sometimes bringing along their two sons who play the flute, and share their testimony and the Gospel. A lot of people were moved to tears by their music, and a few people accepted Christ that day. They sang a very famous song, roughly translated “You were born to receive love.” Ota-san repeated all day that it’s such a shame Japanese parents don’t say that to their children, to their friends, to their family…
After the concert, Ota-san invited me to her apartment for dinner. She fed me a LOT. Spare ribs, salad, three different kinds of Japanese noodles, a bunch of exotic vegetables, and then when I was going home, she gave me a gift–she had knit two sweaters for me because I was so cold during the winter in Japan. Oh my gosh…I was so overwhelmed…especially when I met her wretched 26-year-old good-for-nothing daughter. Her daughter was so rude. They don’t live together. Her daughter spends all of her money on self-beautification while her elderly mother barely gets one day off a week. Ota-san said she will save up some money and try to come to America to visit me in two years. But until then, she told me to write a lot because she doesn’t use e-mail and also so I can practice writing Japanese. 
Ota-san grows her own lettuce. Fruit and vegetables are expensive in Japan.
The day before that was our Digital Scavenger Hunt.
The first mission: team “hengao,” or “funny face.”
Human pyramid.
We did it on our first try!
Fit the entire team in a phone booth.
Take a picture with the Kandai dance team.
Figure skating.
Take a picture with an animal. This dog was the fattest dog I’ve seen in Japan. I miss my babies–Johnny Depp, Charlie Brown, and Keiko-chan…
Keiko-chan and Charlie Brown who now looks like The Beast. Note to Family: Why are you not taking care of the animals?!??!
Thou shalt not show favoritism, but too bad–Johnny Depp is my favorite. He was a runty scaredy-cat kinda dude, but not anymore!
Take a picture with a Kandai professor. I had to run and ask every elderly man that passed by–the students were being too shy.
Western shoot-out. Sometimes I really want to shoot this guy. Just kidding. Haha. Maybe.
Take a picture with something that has a-()-()-n written on it. We found a-(n)-(pa)-n (azuki bean bread).
Rodin!
Find an Asian ballerina.
Take a picture with the Japan Discount Store Man.
Take a creative team picture.
Take a picture with Kandai’s very own Afro-man. He’s cute.
That was my weekend.
Posted by genieinjapan on May 29th, 2007 filed in Daily Life | Comment now »Tada (Just An) Update
What am I going to do when I go back to LA and I’m speaking this weird hybrid English/Japanese and no one but myself understands me.
How does something change your life so drastically in just one year.
Speaking of going back to LA, I think I’m scared. I have to go to school four days after I get off that plane. I feel like a very different person now, and I’m sure lots of people and things back at home have changed. What is America like after VT? I don’t know. What’s happened to you in the past year? I don’t know. It’s like I’m starting a new life. Brand new, fresh, scary start.
And speaking about hybrid languages, I recently bought two textbooks: one Korean, one Spanish…both in Japanese…which means I’m re-learning Korean through Japanese which is strange because they’re both foreign languages to me, but it’s SO much easier than going through English. Can anybody spell f-r-e-a-k? The Spanish is to refresh my memory for CM2007 (that crazy 20,000 people worldwide Christian conference going on in my mother country this July), just in case…
Speaking of hybrids, I think I want a Hybrid car. Let’s love, people–the environment, the neighbors, the family, the nations, everybody. Let’s just love, love, love.
Posted by genieinjapan on May 23rd, 2007 filed in Daily Life | 1 Comment »Retraction…Rejoice!
Taka sent an e-mail to one of our staff saying: “boku wa kirisutokyo ni hairimasen.” I can’t enter Christianity. “iroiro to hanashi wo kikasete moratteno wa, gakumonteki ni kyoumi ga atta kara desu.” The reason I listened to you talk was because I’m just academically interested. “gomennasai.” I’m sorry.
He’s interested in learning about Christianity, but becoming a Christian is a completely separate thing, he says. That’s a-okay! Praise God we have such a straight-up friend. A lot of times Japanese students will really, really, really beat around the bush. Good times.
In other news, TWO more students accepted Christ today. Their names are Kimi and Hiro. They’re the real thing. Let’s go nutsss!!! Haaaalllelujaaaah!!!!!Jesus Christ in Japan. UNNNSTOPPABLE!!! Posted by genieinjapan on May 23rd, 2007 filed in Daily Life | Comment now »
Guess What Happened Today…
and yesterday! Shinya accepted Christ.
Sayuri accepted Christ.
Last week it was Ayumi. Testuya.
The week before that was Masashi.
The week before that was Masamichi.
We are on a roooooll!!!!!!!
This is nuts.
Today was my first time at Osaka Univ. of Foreign Studies in months. Before going out sharing the Gospel, I went and sat in a corner to review the gospel tract just to make sure that I got it–unfortunately, there were a couple Japanese words I forgot. So I asked the girl in front of me if she could help me out. And she did. And then we started talking a little. And then she let me read her the gospel tract in my hand. And then she prayed to receive Jesus Christ into her life. And then she’s coming to church this week. And then I’m going nuts.
Let’s add one more–praise God for Taka, a student at Kandai, who accepted Christ today.
Woooohoooooo!!!!!!! Posted by genieinjapan on May 23rd, 2007 filed in Daily Life | Comment now »
Facts & Figures
In the month of April, our team shared the Gospel with 121 people.
Eight of them took it for everything that it is, and that’s phenomenal. A thousand times amen and hallelujah to that.
Fifty days until 20,000 college students worldwide gather in Pusan, South Korea to praise and worship the One true and living God, be blessed beyond imagination, then take off to be bright lights shining truth, goodness, compassion, humility, healing, and peace in their corner of the globe.
33 of them coming to Osaka. Shine, shine shine.
85 days left in Japan.
About seven people a week, a goal of 100 people to share the Gospel with in the remaining 2.5 months.
Six kilos to lose for 2 bridesmaid’s dresses.
35.2 lbs. of books that are going to take 6 weeks and lots of yen to ship back home.
Seven weeks and 21 years old. Zero alcohol units yet consumed.
Infinite joy.
Posted by genieinjapan on May 23rd, 2007 filed in Daily Life | Comment now »A Loooong Weekend.
I just flew in from Jejudo, S. Korea. My grandmammy lives there, in the middle of nowhere on this beautiful island. To make a long story short and then tell a long story, by flying out there I messed up my good “traveler’s” record with the Japanese government. But I kept my very, very lonely grandmother company and in addition to that, I learned a lot/am discovering a lot about myself as a Korean. Here’s three days worth of journaling and ranting scribbled on receipts, envelopes, and other scraps of paper because I didn’t bring a journal…but I had to write, lest I explode:
May 5th, 2007
“Today is Cinco de Mayo. But I’m sure no one in Japan/Korea cares. Anyways. It’s 9am. I’ve been awake for the past five hours already. I can’t say it’s been a crummy day, but I think I’m just tired, cranky, and not wanting to put up with people…but God is great, and the past few days have been amazing. Wednesday night, we had dinner at Hiroyuki’s house. He made awesome curry and these soy/tofu patty things. I chopped up daikon (radish) salad and brought some Mister Donut donuts. Shiawase~ (Good times.) I connected with Naofumi on a level that I hadn’t before, based on our joint affinity for M-Flo. Gotta get him that Power-For-Living book. He also offered to watch Spiderman 3 with me. Yatta!
Thursday I spent all day at home, on the phone, Internet, getting ready for Love Sonata. In my personal opinion it was overhyped and too Korean. I had a hard time enjoying it. The whole event just started out bad. Maiko showed up half an hour late. We got separated, and I couldn’t even talk to her. The entertainment was…decent. There was a lady doing praise songs on a Korean-koto thing (what do you call that in Korean?! Geez). She was pretty skilled. It made me want to take up something more ethnic–whether it’s the koto (what is that?!) or drum or whatever. Korean cooking. Language. I am madly in search of my roots now. As modern day Korea touches a sensitive nerve with me, I will delve into ancient Korean culture…
Anyways, it was so funny to see Yoo Seung Joon, in his old age (29?), dancing (mediocre, repetitive, unimpressive), and lip syncing to long forgotten hits. But I was moved when the pastor of Onnuri Church blessed and prayed for him, in pursuing his true passion, which is pastoring. But in his youth, while he still can sing and dance, that’s what he’s doing–singing, dancing, doing his thang. I don’t like how Koreans hate him because he didn’t go to the army. Do you know how stupid that is? They say they’re angry because he didn’t do something he said that he’d do. Well guess what you hypocrite, I bet you can’t even count on your fingers and toes how many times you failed to do something you said you’d do. You call yourself a Christian, Korean? Didn’t Jesus Christ teach to love and forgive? You call yourself a hater? Then why are you cheering for this apparent person you hate, then desperately wanting to shake his hand and take a picture with him? I don’t understand you people. I don’t understand my people.
Well. The message was good. I was furiously tapping away at my Korean-English dictionary. It was direct, it was a clear presentation of the Gospel. Though it came from a Korean-Christian perspective. That much it lacked, considering the Japanese audience. But two of our kids came to Christ, and that’ s good enough for them so that’s good enough for me.
Early the next morning, we took off for Taka’s. His house/temple was large and beautiful, and his mother so hospitable and generous. She wanted to shine her light as an ambassador of Tenrikyo. Christian moms around the world, how are you shining your light? Do you keep a clean house? Do you raise upright kids?
Toriaezu, we talked, joked, laughed, ate, and then took off for Tenri City, Tenrikyo capital of Japan–of the world, I should say. It’s a completely different universe. Tenrikyo flags fly everywhere, people don black prayer robes, and the Ojiba (or temple, Tenrikyo’s “mecca”) is the center of everybody’s attention. Taka and his mother said that that place brought them peace. I could see why–it was beautiful, serene, mountains and blue sky in the backdrop. I could understand why–knowing that when you come to this place, everyone believes what you believe, understands you, relates with you, can connect with you with ease. You are not a foreigner. On that level I connected with Taka that day, realizing how difficult it must have been in school in atheist Japan, trying to hold on to a faith that none of your friends can vouch for. At the same time, his family wasn’t much of a support either, though his father being a Tenrikyo priest. Christian fathers, are you raising your children in the faith? Are you growing and supporting, equipping and training your children in the Truth?
This morning was great. I was just moments from the station when I suddenly realized that I had double checked for my box of soy milk, my Bible, and my gospel tracts, but had completely neglected my passport and ticket. Had to trek back up my mountain to get it. Ato, I got stopped at immigration and officially revoked my application for the missionary visa. That was a sobering experience. Toriaezu, I can return to Japan with no problem. But reapplying for a 3-5 year missionary visa in the future may get ugly. But my God provides what He wants to provide, so I have no qualms about that.
Now I’m sitting in a Korean Air airplane, where all the stewardesses have approached me in Japanese so far. Now what does that say about me?
I want to be perfectly trilingual–to be able to boldly and confidently introduce myself as a Korean. To clearly communicate that I am a daughter of God in Japanese. To relate my experiences to the world in English. It’s going to take some work.
I’m at my grandma’s house in Jejudo now, and not much has changed though I think I have. My perspective of this place–I used to hate it here. There’s no Internet, no young people, no noise, just trees, birds, bugs, and beautifully aged women with ninety years of stories on their faces. I’m captivated by this place, by these people. On the way here in the taxi, it was so good to hear the taxi driver and my grandma just gibber-gabber endlessly in a wild and rural form of Korean that maindalnders don’t even understand. Koreans are a gregarious people. Talking, laughing, bickering with people they don’t even know and may never see again. I don’t believe Koreans consider karma–do good or bad to another person, it doesn’t really matter. Koreans think, “I just need to be open and honest about my feelings.” There’s no such thing as self-screening here. I haven’t spent much time on the mainland so I can’t speak for all Koreans. But this has been my experience on this island where much of distinct Korean culture has been preserved and isolated.
Where a heater once sat in my grandma’s living room lies a chest with the entirety of my great-grandmother’s possessions atop it–some ceramic dishes, brass bowls, wooden ladles, and baskets. They have to be something like 80 years old. That’s 1920, mind you. I love the brass spoons, which are so crude-looking. You can see right away that they were hammered into these flat, round, enormous shovel-looking things by someone’s very own hand. My father’s side of the family was virtually unaffected by WWII. They were living on this island, away from all of the tragedy and racism. The Japanese apparently didn’t care too much about this island paradise, now considered Korea’s very own Hawaii.
However, my great-grandma’s stone hut has been mauled down and replaced by young mandarin trees. That is a tragedy! I was hoping to go in and explore the ancient edifice, hoping that maybe I could find an interesting thing or two and keep it as part of my history. Apparently, the person I resemble most in my family is that very great-grandma. Anyways, seeing that those spoons and bowls were here only possessions–not because she was poor, but simply because that’s all she really needed–I don’t know if I envy or pity that simplicity. Because life would be so nice and uncluttered if all I was concerned about was working hard and feeding myself and my children. But life for me, for all of us, is so complicated, living in the 21st century. I go to college. I have a car. I have a cell phone. I have an iPod. I have a Palm Pilot. I have interests and desires that are flung all over the place. I feel like I have a purpose beyond just working, eating, and sleeping and living yet another day. I want to make a difference in this world. And with the heritage I’ve been given, the upbringing I had and the experiences I’ve come across, it’s not my place in life to just survive, to just barely make it. I’ve been made to overflow. To expand, and push things forward.
My grandma talks a lot about her children, her grandchildren. But does she really know what kinds of lives we lead? This woman has gone years without seeing family. I completely understand now why my father insists that we go see her as often as we can. All of her grandma friends live with their children and grandchildren. Hers live in a land and world far, far away. Sure, we may well-off living overseas and claiming the American Dream, but what does that matter to her? She’s just a Korean farmer, a mother, a grandmother who could care less about the American Dream–she devoted her life to her family, and that’s what she wants most of all.
She’s so different from my own mother.
I don’t know what to think…my father’s family and my mother’s family are so different. You’ve got very traditional, humble farmers and blue-collar workers on one side, and then there’s progressive, migrant, white-collar social activists on the other. My paternal grandmother doesn’t have more than a junior-high school education. My maternal grandmother was educated overseas and had a university degree. My paternal grandmother raised 3 children alone. My maternal grandmother bore 7 children whom she often left to fend for themselves while she led a feminine-rights group in the city. They were Catholic, by the way. My father’s side is Buddhist. I’m Baptist.
I’m always in this messy middle-ground–Korean-American, East-West, Liberal-Conservative, Buddhist-Catholic–haha, just kidding about that last one. But really–God, what is your intention by all of this? Would you have me be like my grandmother, an excellent chef and devoted housewife, or like my mom, who maybe hasn’t done a lot of hands-on-raising of children herself, but leads by example? She holds two master’s degrees and is pursuing a doctorate. But why education? What are her motives? Self-advancement? Self-achievement? To support, challenge, and encourage her children? I don’t know…I don’t know…I really don’t know much of anything, do I? It’s a tricky question. To pursue my dreams–is that being selfish and neglectful of my duties as a future wife and mother? Or is it possible to be a perfect-both. Most people say it’s impossible. Do I dare attempt the impossible? Of course. =)
Anyways, like Ecclesiastes says–do your best, just leave God up to the rest. My life is Your canvas.
Some relatives came to visit for like 5 minutes. An ancient man with watery eyes. A young man, young woman. They’re getting married. So we say hi, the bride-to-be hands my grandma an envelope, and that’ s that. They head out, probably to greet more distant relatives. I ask my grandma how we’re related. She started, “Your great-grandpa’s cousin’s…” and gave up. We just are. Somehow.
May 6th, 2007
I lost a lot of weight in Japan. The food is really small here. So my grandma kept feeding and feeding and feeding me, like most grandmas do. Then she asked me why I always wear maternity clothes. The irony. (If you don’t get it, it’s because I do. Wear maternity-esque clothes).
Today my grandma told me not to get too deeply involved in religious activities. She said being a follower of something is good, but not to get too involved, lest I become a fanatic. She said if I ever graduate and say some crazy-talk like I want to be a missionary or engage in other religious activities, that she will absolutely oppose. I responded, “Yes, grandmother…” Was that a lie? It’s not like I listened to anyone in my entire life anyway.
Anyways, it was good to discover that she’s not the hardcore Buddhist that I thought she was. I was a little bit troubled today when she talked about Reverend Sun-Myung Moon, notorious cult-leader; she was praising how much power and money and influence he had. He had made a visit to Jejudo a while ago, inviting all the Moons and connected relatives on the island to join this event at the convention center. Some distant kin urged my grandma to go, so she said yes because she just wanted to see the convention center, see someone famous. She mentioned her plans to go to my dad in one of his weekly calls, and my dad, a growing follower of Jesus Christ, said that he’d rather that she didn’t go. In actuality, she really wanted to, but so not as to displease her only son, she didn’t. And neither did all the other grandmas in the village. Go Dad. Go Grandma. These cult leaders can be tricky, tricky…
I learned today that money, power, and fame do in fact move people. Especially Korean people. And what about Japanese people? I don’t know. That seems like a given. But for some reason, I have this innate urge to steer clear of rich and famous people; I’ve never been one to join a fan-club or want to take pictures with celebrities. It kinda grosses me out when people get all excited about “Oh I saw this person” or “So-and-so was at blahblahblah today!” But what is God telling me about influence and impact…the ability to change lives as your own (hopefully) godly life is made visible…show me Your way Oh Lord.
May 7th, 2007
Why is it that I’m always so eager to leave this country. I’m always at high-tensity levels until I’m safely on the plane. I don’t really want to talk to anyone or even hear anyone, for that matter. What happened. The other day I was even contemplating living in Korea for a year or six months (never mind, three months, if can even last that long) to really learn the language and culture, maybe even be close to my grandma. Now, I can’t stand to be here another hour. What is this condition where you hate your own people so much? I can’t love Japan more than I love my own country. What is that?
When my grandma’s not around, I do this thing where I only speak to people in Japanese…like at the check-in counter at the airport or to flight attendants. When did Japanese get more comfortable than Korean for me? That’s a scary thing. Don’t forget who you are, where you came from.
Posted by genieinjapan on May 7th, 2007 filed in Daily Life | Comment now »