restaurants are filled with noisy kids and housewives

After work, I dined out. I haven’t done that as often as I used to, because restaurants are filled with noisy kids and housewives. Kids are my regular enemies. Today, the place was empty as it had just opened for the day. But as the time went on, more and more kids came in, and soon I got besieged by them. Only move I could take was to retreat, as usual. I sincerely wish kids-free environment would prevail someday…

I tried one last time under the dim light of a mercury lamp.

Here, I make an embarrassing confession. I hadn’t been able to ride a bicycle without training wheels until the fifth grade. I always believe that riding a bicycle successfully for the first time should be like the one in the movie ‘Kramer vs. Kramer’ where a father played by Dustin Hoffman jumps for joy and takes a picture of his son’s first ride. Sadly, parents in real life are too defective. My parents used to be farmers who worked out on the field from dawn to night. They hardly took a day off and when they did, it was a rainy day. During winter when their work was a little less hectic, they would bring crops from the field to a communal wash place by the small park near our home. They spent the rest of the day washing the crops by hand with their long booted feet soaked in freezing water. My father used a short interval between the field and the wash place to teach me to ride a bicycle. He couldn’t spare more time and I wasn’t a fast learner. After a few unsuccessful attempts, I became the only one among the kids of around the same age in the neighborhood who couldn’t ride a bike.

One day, my mother took me to the park with my sister on her way to work. Because she told us to bring our bicycles, I thought she would teach me this time. But she spotted a couple of older kids in the park, asked them to teach me and rushed into the wash place. With the kids’ help, my younger sister by four years got to ride a bike without training wheels, while I couldn’t. The kids laughed at me. When my mother poked her head around the door of the wash place and asked them how it went, they said, “She’s no good! Her sister rode it first!”

Much later, I was already close to my then-best friend Junko and took courage to ask her to teach me. She helped me in the park earnestly until it went dark. As it was time to go home, I tried one last time under the dim light of a mercury lamp. And I finally made it. Behind me, I heard Junko shouting for joy, “She’s riding! She made it! Hooray!” When I stopped and looked back, I saw her face flush with happiness. I miss her. More than I miss my parents…

A doctor or a minister

 When it comes to an
election, I always remember Mr. Goyude. He was a local politician in my
hometown. I often saw him outside the elementary school I went to,
waving and talking to kids. He would hand out his cards to kids, saying
‘Say hello to your parents for me!’ Some foolish kids boasted about
getting his autograph or shaking his hand. Every time I saw Mr. Goyude, I
felt pitiful for him. Japanese people say ‘A doctor or a minister,
which will you become?’ when they admire a promising child. Our family’s
next-door neighbor used to say it to me and each time, I hoped not to
be a minister because to become one, the process seemed so sad and
miserable. Now I’ve grown up and I became neither a doctor nor a
minister…

from Tumblr https://hidemiwoods.tumblr.com/post/186037815811