スクリプトは事前提出されたものですので、ビデオの音声とは異なる場合があります。

Close Yet Far

Otsuji Ayaka (National Institute of Technology, Toyama College, Imizu)

“Treasure every encounter, for it may never happen again.” You should regard every encounter as a once in a lifetime chance.

This is one of the well-known proverbs of Japan, which is called “Ichigo-ichie”. While I was in Canada to study English for half a year, I kept this word in mind. The period I could spend in Canada was very limited, and it was a little expensive. So, I tried to live as much of a fulfilling life as I could in Canada. As a matter of fact, I was content with my life in Canada because my host family accepted me as a real daughter, and they provided many opportunities to talk about each other in English. Hugging and kissing every morning were things that I really hesitated to do because they were not familiar to me, but it was an easy way to feel loved. Fortunately, I never became homesick, even for a short moment. My studying abroad was successful because I could concentrate on myself. In other words, the life in Canada was just unforgettable, awesome, and “serene”.

Time flied. Finally it was time to go back to Japan. One month before leaving Canada, I got strongly depressed because it was hard to accept the fact that I would have to restart my usual life with my boring family in a tiny little house.

Honestly, the relationship between my mother and I had been terrible for ages. I used to have an argument with her every day. On the day I left for Canada, her last words stuck in my head. “Please don't buy any souvenirs for us, especially for me. I don't need anything from you. It's just a waste of money!!” I expected that she would say “see you” or “I will miss you”, but it was totally different. Yes, I definitely understood she wouldn't miss me at all. She didn't even regret my leaving. As you may guess, I have never felt loved by my mother. Because of this fact, I had regretted coming back to Japan. As I got on the plane, I kept repeating this phrase over and over inside my head; “I wish I had been born in Canada”.

After picking up my bags and leaving the customs area, I saw her. The woman seemed to have been waiting long at the airport. I thought I would feel uncomfortable if I saw her; however, the situation was contrary to my expectation. As soon as she saw me, she gave me her smile which I hadn't seen for a long, long time and just said “Welcome back”. NO HUG NO KISS, BUT SERENE. Regardless of the physical distance between us while I was in Canada, and regardless of the emotional distance between us in Japan, she is my mother, and I was happy to see her again. She kept saying “good, good,… you're here!” on the way home in the car. She smiled happily as if she'd got a wonderful present. Perhaps I was what she wanted, and I was her souvenir.

This experience caused me to see the big picture. I realized that I have been spoiled by my culture, and I didn't make any effort to communicate with my mother because of this reason. I remember trying to minimize words and tell her my feelings indirectly or unclearly, as she usually does too. I think her last words actually meant “I don't need any souvenirs but I just hope you come back safely.” There were many misunderstandings between us because we relied on the high-context culture of Japanese society too much. We believed we understood each other very well without enough words. However, this is wrong. No matter how wonderfully Japanese think they can read other's minds, meaningless misunderstandings often occur like the one I told you about today. Arguments and fights might have been avoided. No matter how much we can tell our feelings without words, we should put love into words or show better attitudes to at least the people who you really care for, and not be close yet far. Keep ichigo-ichie in your heart and treasure every moment, but not only for people whom you first meet, but also with people whom you have the chance to meet again.

“Dear mom, I really appreciate you being my mother. It is Ichigo-ichie. I love you.”