I thought I'd post a little something different today and get a little more personal since this is a
personal blog. I always enjoy when other bloggers talk about the elements that make up who they are as people, so I thought I'd start with some Japan posts, beginning with my family. People often ask who my inspirations in life are and I'll be the first to admit that my inspirations don't go far beyond the bounds of family but since I have found myself needing more and more inspiration these days, I thought I'd write about one: my grandfather.
My grandfather worked for the Toyota company when it
first began decades ago and was the first person from the company to go
to New York in 1957 and open up shop, as it were. The first person.
Ever. In the years after WWII, Japan’s economy was in shambles - like
the rest of the country - so the only way to salvage it was to get
foreign currency circulating within it. In this case, the US dollar.
Problem was, basically no one on the international scene even wanted
anything Japan had to offer (which, to be honest, wasn’t much). My
grandfather described these early exports as primitive - ceramic plates,
bowls, silk stockings, etc. So Toyota scraped up adequate funds, sent
my grandfather over for six months with a few traveler’s checks and
ordered him to try and get the Americans interested in Japanese exports.
But this was a whole lot easier said than done because everything about
Japanese exports was wrong. When my grandfather would bring samples to
potential customers, they’d find something to pick at: the color was
wrong, the shape was wrong and (in the case of fabrics) even the weave
was wrong. All this time my grandfather was sending back reports to
Toyota stating what the issues were and, over a good deal of time, the
quality of Japanese goods improved to the point that Americas were
buying. Thus, the Toyota Trading Company was born.
My
grandfather worked with the international trade branch within the Toyota
company, which includes the automobile branch but extends far beyond
it. I always forget to distinguish between the two since, growing up,
Toyota was always more or less a single entity in my mind consisting of
both branches. However, I began realizing that to most people Toyota is
merely the name of an automobile maker. So to clarify: my grandfather
was the vice-president of Toyota North-America, but presided over
international trade which naturally included cars but also fabrics,
foodstuffs, etc etc etc. He is currently retired and has been for years
though he is still marginally involved in the company. He is part of the
Toyota Society, a group of retirees who meet a few times a month for
business affairs as well as chummy fun - golf, ma-jung and luncheons. He
also is the auditor for his friend’s engineering company, which keeps
him busy. Sometimes I think he should take it easy, not to take on so
much and to relax more. A big part of me is afraid of when my
grandfather passes away and I don’t really want him to rush that day,
though it will come when it wants to, I suppose. I don’t know, I can
hear the voices of my mom and some friends telling me not to worry about
it, about my grandfather’s inevitable death. And I don’t think about it
often, obviously, just when I am reminded that he is getting old and
that no one lives forever. I will admit that when he passes away, I will be
crushed for a very long time.
My
grandmother always called him katsuo, a kind of fish that is constantly
moving because were it to stop moving it would die. There is a legend
in Japan about the katsuo who constantly swim around the world, not
because it was afraid it would die were it to stop - it kept swimming
simply because it loved movement and didn’t want to stop. That describes
my grandfather perfectly, he is always on the go, not egged on by a
fear of death. He is always in a suit, no matter where we’re going, be
it a quick run to the grocery store or to an orchestra concert in an
upscale concert hall. In fact, I have never seen him not wearing a suit
in public. A few years ago we went shopping together and came across the
men’s jeans section of the store. He paused for a moment, hands clasped
behind his back, dressed in a grey pin-stripe suit, black shoes
polished and suddenly looks over at me and said, “Maybe I should start
wearing jeans, wouldn’t that be different!” with a laugh. I laughed
right along with him, trying to picture him in a pair of jeans. And you
know what? I couldn’t do it. I am so used to seeing him in his suits,
looking perfectly comfortable and casual just as I feel in my jeans and
cardigans, that to picture him any other way was nigh impossible.
Needless to say, he’s still sticking to the suits. He is a businessman
at heart but also a businessman with a heart. Growing up as a teenager
during WWII and the years following, he was confronted with the jarring
reality of life in a country on the losing side of war (never a fun
place to be). For years people were starving to death around him and
there was never enough of anything. One thing I always admired about my
grandfather was how human he is, how conscientious of others around him
whether it was people he came across in business circles, societal
circles or someone he passed in the grocery store. He was a very
successful businessman, but the money never got to his head. Instead,
the images of starvation and struggle remain firmly imbedded within him;
his greatest joy comes from making other people happy. We were eating
at a very fancy, delicious sushi shop one night and as I ate (with
‘child-like bliss’ my uncle later informed me) my grandfather watched me
with such joy in his eyes. My uncle looks over and says with a grin,
“Grandpa grew up in a time when everyone starved to death so his
greatest joy is watching the people he loves eat good food”.
The
war taught my grandfather and those in his generation to persevere and
work themselves to the bone because there was no other alternative. He
helped build one of the largest and most successful companies in the
world, yet still remains incredibly down-to-earth. It’s insane. He is
accepting, he is loving, he is understanding and compassionate. I wish
that everyone had someone in their life like him, someone to look you
square in the eye lovingly but firmly tell you to keep going, to keep on
chugging away at life. Someone to whom you can look at and realize that
yes, love does in fact cover a multitude of sins - including those that were inflicted upon you.
I hope that
someday I can be like him. I don’t know how realistic that is, but
there’s nothing wrong with having lofty goals, yes?