(this was written on the flight to Japan, en route to Ino-machi, Kochi-prefecture)

日本に近付いてくるほど曽祖母の声がはっきりに聞こえて来て居ます。彼女と私の間柄は何でしょうか？夢は自分て言う物では無いでしょうか？この頃歌が急に頭の中に弾いて来ます。新しい歌を書いて見たいと思ってます。もし貸したら、これが曾祖母の本心の夢。カナダ生まれでも何年もこの土地の上に歩いていててもこの風土の心動き空気、音はっきり言うと合計の意味が分かりません。これ程ひいばあが図うっと自分の土地に帰りたいですか。外から見ていると前線意味が無いでしょうか？ 

In flight, travelling toward returns. How many generations must pass for the fulfillment of a singular wish? Great-Grandmother, 筒井さとさま was born upon the lands to which i now travel anew. Great-Grandfather, 幸馬じhad owned a 楮 (kōzo) paper tree farm in Agawa-gun (吾川郡), Shikoku-prefecture (四国県) before embarking on a journey from which there was no return. It was against my Great-Grandmother’s heart wish. Great-Grandpa moved the family, which at the time included my Grandmother to 宮崎県 in the hopes of expanding his farm business. They fell to immediate misfortune. Unbeknownst to Great-Grandpa, the massive tract of land that he purchased had been occupied by two warring factions. Intergenerational enmity gave way to alliance when an outsider, Great-Grandpa dared to grab the property rights from right under their noses. Under the guise of throwing him a lavish welcoming party, the village folks had written out the deeds to the newly acquired property. As Great-Grandpa became heavily inebriated with drink and jubilation, the villagers had him stamp away all his rights to the land. Overnight, my Great-Grandparents were left in near destitution. 

Great-Grandmother never returned to her homeland again. This was the starting point of diaspora of women on my mother’s side. This was the beginning of wandering without returns. This is the life of salmon who lurch toward unchartered waters. I am this salmon. 

子供の時からなかなか声が出て来ませんでした。喉に引っ付いて言いたい事を全部飲み込んでて我慢だけしかありません。親戚の土地に近付いてくるほど歌を歌いたくなりますは。鳥の歌が光って来ています。すうっと喉から飛んで行って来ます。 

My Grandmother also lived a life beyond her own intentions. Born in Agawa-Gun, 吾川郡, 清川 直恵 (Kiyokawa, Naoe) was uprooted at age 4 or 5, never to return to her birthplace. Rather, she became further flung, accompanying my Grandfather, a contractor, to China where they resided for 11 years, only returning to Japan under desperate circumstances as war broke out between the colonizers and China. Grandfather was forced to remain, having been conscripted by the Japanese national government, most likely going on to kill the very people who had been under his employ. So fucking messed up. And my Grandmother never reconciled how her life in China was incorporated into the nationalistic machinations of Japan’s brutal Imperial colonization across Asia. Now, this is the descendants’, my, our collected responsibility.

Like her mother and grandmother before, my Mother, 後藤 京子 (Goto, Kyoko) also uprooted from Japan to go even further afield to accompany my Father, 虎信 (Toranobu) to Canada. At age 61, Grandmother followed soon after in order to abide by her daughter, where she died from decades of hard labour. 

My Mother still carries my Father and Grandmother’s ashes wherever she moves. Currently they dwell atop a dresser next to her bed. This, the continuation of diaspora past breath. 

For many years, had a recurring dream that i was alone, frantically wading the pacific. The sky was blanketed with the most oppressive indigo, only the brightest stars glimmered quietly to accompany the errant lapping of water surrounding my restive form. Facing japan, i wailed and wailed, looking towards islands that were no longer reachable. Could it be that all along, this was my Great-Grandmother trying to flounder home, only to find that after so many divergences, she could no longer find her way? 

to be continued… 

[Photo: c. 1974? in Langley, B.C. in front of our first proper home. A tiny two-bedroom sardine tin of a place with an outhouse in the back. If you look carefully at the photo, you will see a series of cages stacked on the porch. My sister had created a mini zoo, capturing wild animals in the area. The snakes escaped easily. I am the youngest of four daughters.]