I have traveled as far as hundreds of miles from the Pearl of the Orient to the Land of the Rising Sun only to encounter images of déjà vu from a distant past.
My knowledge of Japan is similar to the preserved stories in the pages of history books and to the poetic narratives of ancient scholars. My sentiment toward its people is akin to that of the accounts of Philippine war veterans and to my fellow countrymen who sought for a greener pasture in this foreign land. But I must admit that it was a naïve and indifferent perspective.
The works of James Clavell and Yukio Mishima introduced me to the beautiful and somewhat mysterious culture of Japan. Their descriptions of the charming four-season landscapes and their excavation of how a typical Japanese mind works seduced me to come closer to the unfamiliar places and characters of a nation who once conquered the land of my forefathers. My hesitation is as strong as my curiosity, but the latter prevailed. I decided to set foot on a country I once considered an enemy.
September 2008. It was the beginning of autumn. The changing colors of leaves and the dancing hues of the mountains are reminiscent of the blood shed by the heroes and martyrs who fought for freedom and won independence. The first snow fell on the ground. Winter reminded me of the hopelessness in the eyes of people reflecting the debris of the destruction caused by war. Then the signs of spring showed up. The fragrant flowers brought me back to the times when petals dropped from the sky to celebrate the power of a peaceful revolution. And the sun once again reclaimed the seasons. The heat, humidity, and the lengthier days evoke the tropical atmosphere back home. War, violence, bloodshed, tears, devastations, anger and revenge—these are typical words imbibed in a citizen of a country who fell victim in the hands of the Japanese military during the World War II. This was Japan for me 2 years ago. I did not expect that my negative view will transform in the same way as my witnessing of the picturesque changing of seasons in this country who have sheltered me since then.
A time zone away, Japan doesn’t seem to be too far from where I am from. A four-hour plane ride assures me that my comfort zone is just within my reach. But the day I entered the land that boasts hundreds of years of civilization, I was mesmerized by the novelties of my northern neighbor. Differences. It was believed that comparison is at best when you decipher differences. Between Japan and the Philippines, it won’t take a genius to spot some of these.
- An author named Irene Nemirovsky once claimed: “What separates or unites people is not their language, their customs, their principles, but the way they hold their knife and fork.” But here in Japan, chopsticks rule the dining table.
- Japan’s right side of the road is wrong in ours.
- When a Japanese reads a book, he will start flipping the pages from right to left and scanning it from top to bottom. A Filipino will see this as reading backwards.
- For meeting appointments at 8:00pm, a Japanese will show up on or before 8:00pm. Expect a Filipino to come at least half an hour later.
- Cars in Japan—the smaller, the better. Cars in the Philippines—better if it’s bigger.
Despite these differences, I was, at the same time, confronted by several nostalgic similarities with my Asian relative.
- Seniority is, most of the time, important. I grew up in a society that reveres the elderly. I was taught to talk with them in the most honorific way I possibly can. A lola (grandmother in Tagalog) in the Philippines and an obaasan in Japan probably enjoy the same respected status given to them.
- Most of us Filipinos believe that education is the most important inheritance you could get from your parents. And I saw the same high value Japanese people give to education.
- These two distinct races have the same passion for singing. Karaoke is not only a form of entertainment but also a way of bonding families, friends and even new acquaintances.
- Who can live without rice? Expect Japanese and Filipinos answering in unison: “no one!”
- Fish is in bounty anywhere in the Japanese and Philippine archipelagos.
But the most significant similarity between the Philippines and Japan, although very much latent, is history—or more specifically, the consequences of a tragic part of our past. It is true that the bitter history of war distanced me from this country which I now consider as my second home. And it was also history that narrowed this animosity. On January 1 of this year, as the world is welcoming a new beginning, I was in Hiroshima revisiting the past. While people are well wishing for the year ahead, I was grief-stricken by the horrors of Hiroshima’s days of yore. As bells were rung to celebrate a new set of opportunities and blessings, the cries of the children echoed against the walls of the Peace Memorial Museum. As fireworks were lit to embrace the dawn of a new decade, the vastness of the destruction exemplified by the A-Bomb Dome blinded me.
On August 6, 1945, Hiroshima’s history was sealed. The US atomic bomb hit the center of the then thriving Japan’s educational and military center. Thousands of lives lost and properties damaged. It marked the beginning of the nuclear age and at the same time raised an awareness of the security threats of nuclear weapons. 65 years have passed since the atomic bomb was dropped at Hiroshima and now it has become as lively and even more prosperous than before, armed with history and an unwavering advocacy for non-proliferation of nuclear arms.
Staring at the Flame of Peace while drinking a can of Fire Coffee that has become my favorite nomimono since I came here, I realized that Japan was not at all different from my country. Japan and the Philippines are both victims of wars caused by conflicting national interests, by incompatible ideologies, and by the few who controlled and grabbed power. They both share the same history. As a pay respect to the epitaph of the nameless victims of the Hiroshima bombing, I also prayed for the unidentified Philippine soldiers who bravely sacrificed their own lives in order to break the chains of an imprisoned country. They both share the same consequences of political mistakes. As I sat in front of the Bell of Peace, I heard the deafening noise that struck Hiroshima on that fateful day while recalling the battle cries for independence. As harbingers of peace, they both raised a voice that resonates for the world to hear.
From a 3-day trip around Hiroshima, I boarded an express train back to my university. The numerous cultural heritages around the country only prove that Japan never abandoned its past, may it be praiseworthy or appalling. I admire Japan for not losing hope despite the disasters of the previous wars. I admire its people for rebuilding a destructed nation from the rubbles of suffering and despondency to a great thriving nation that it is now. For it is in the past that the Japanese people are rooted as a nation. It is the same past that this beautiful country of samurai and geisha, of ginkgo leaves and sakura flowers, the home of the majestic Mt. Fuji and the ancient wonders of Kyoto, has learned to stand up again.
Realizing that we have treaded a parallel path of history, I discovered that this country is no longer a stranger to me. It was a truly surprising hakken. Having experienced the same bitterness of war and violence, Japan and the Philippines also share the same aspirations of a future free from the threats of tyranny, nuclear proliferation and other forms of violence. And together with the rest of the world, we can all steer our history’s direction leading to a long-lasting peace for the generations to come.
