This afternoon, we went to meet Sachiko-san. Sachiko-san is a woman who survived the atomic bomb in Nagasaki. She was under 10 years old and playing outside with friends. She was nearly killed, by inhalation and suffocation, from the dirt and debris that piled on top of her.
My friend, Caren, is writing a book about her life. She has been working on it for many, many years. She allowed my after school students to read a copy of the manuscript she sent to the publisher. I planned to visit Sachiko-san on behalf of my students. I'll get to that later.
But first, we ran into Anne Prescott and John Frank! These two guided me through my first tour of Japan in 2013. They are staying at the same hotel we are. I felt bad for Perry because just as we got on the up escalator, Anne was half way down, I quickly pushed Perry back off with no explanation, then started waving wildly at the escalator. We talked a bit about our trips and tried to set up time to meet later next week. I don't think it will be possible though. We both figured since Perry and I are leaving for Narita on July 4th, and they had rigid schedules for the first and second days they arrived (the 3rd and 4th). It's too bad; it would have been fun to see each other again later.
In the afternoon, we went with Miyanishi-san to the Nagasaki Symphony Orchestra concert. Miyanishi-san is in the orchestra! He plays the clarinet. It was an amazing experience with such talented musicians.
Miyanishi-san had us sit next to a woman we did not know, but she quickly started talking to us. She knew who I was. This woman was Etsuko-san (sp?), Sachiko-san's younger sister. She seemed happy to take us to see her sister.
After the concert, we went to see see Sachiko-san at the assisted care building she lives at. We, literally, went up a mountain to get to her.
Etsuko-san was very nice, but was a bit surprised by my age. I think she was expecting someone at least 30 years older. I hope I did okay. I was very grateful to her for spending so much of the day with me. Fumiko-san drove us, and conversed in a lot of Japanese with Etsuko-san. I heard "Maggie-san" a lot, but I'm not sure why.
Meeting Sachiko-san was more overwhelming than I thought it would be. She does not read or speak English; I asked a friend of mine, Keiko - who is also working with Caren on translating Sachiko-san's story into Japanese - to translate a letter I wrote to her. The letter is as follows:
Dear Sachiko,
I am a teacher at a school in St. Paul, Minnesota. This was the first year we created the peace club at Hmong Academy. Caren gave us a manuscript of your story. She said that she wanted to know what young people thought about it. So, last fall the students read your story.
I would like to share some information about our students. They are children and grandchildren of the Vietnam war. Their families fought for the United States in Laos. The Lao government ordered for all Hmong to be killed. Their families ran from their homes through the jungles hiding from the Lao military. The United States did not help them. Many people died escaping while crossing the Mekong River where Lao military sat in trees and shot them. They went to refugee camps in Thailand.
Then they came to the US to live. Their families knew no English. Again, the US did not help. Many Americans were, and still are, mean to them. They think the Hmong are somehow poor and stupid people. St. Paul has one of the highest populations of Hmong people. The Hmong are adapting and rising to success, but they are losing their language and culture. This year is the 40th anniversary of their migration to the US. This same year it has been 70 years since the atomic bombing in Nagasaki.
I wanted to share this with you because I think one of the reasons our students loved your story was because it was very personal. They too lost many loved ones, their homes completely destroyed and confronted discrimination. They had to start over in a place that was completely different than before.
Thank you so much, Sachiko, for teaching our students about strength and resilience, about overcoming terrible things. After reading your story, I think many of the students started the healing process for their families' and the school. You have truly inspired a group of children across the ocean and helped them envision a world of friendship-making.
Please accept these 1000 cranes. After reading about you, the students decided this was the one thing they could do to thank you. The students worked on them throughout the winter and spring. They recruited friends, family and classmates. They shared your story and started the healing process for other families in their community. Although only a few have read your story, it has reached so many people. You have become such a large part of these students' lives in a way that has forever transformed them into leaders, peacekeepers and global friends to you and Nagasaki.
Thank you so very much for doing what so few can.
Many of my students do not enjoy reading. But most students read Sachiko in one night. One stayed in for Halloween so he could finish it. I cannot communicate how much these kids loved and appreciated the story of Sachiko-san's life. Some students wrote her letters that Keiko also translated. Fumiko-san read those too. We did not stay long, but it still makes me feel lightening bolts of excitement when I think about it.
The journey of the cranes was a worrysome one. In Ueno, I had to send the cranes ahead to Nagasaki in a flimsy travel bag with the rest of my luggage due to the limited space on the trains between Tokyo, Kyoto and Nagasaki. The man working for the delivery company came to pick up the bags, but spoke absolutely no English. The one person in our group who could interpret was drowning in questions by the other travel members.
After an increasingly frustrating conversation between two people who did not understand each other at all, I finally just ripped the bag open and showed him the paper cranes. The carrier nodded, took the bag from my hands and put it on his pile.
I wasn't sure we were able to communicate our thoughts. But when we arrived in our hotel room, on the table sat a box. I opened it and there was the bag of cranes in perfect condition. The delivery guy had packed them for us, free of charge.
I'm not sure what it is about paper cranes. They are just folded pieces of paper but create so much understanding that it doesn't matter if anything was ever spoken at all.
The cranes now hang in Sachiko-san's shared room.
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