Days go on. It’s back to work and making sure that things keep moving here. Part of doing your part is going back into the system and keeping the machine moving. In Japan its a well oiled precision tuned instrument on overdrive. All perfectly syncing and driven with fervor. We are all components and mechanisms perhaps. This brings me to why the photo, hence I’ll go on with with part of the writing that I love to do the most which requires less analytics and more seeing life as it is.
He came into our van in a quiet manner. Older man with big glasses, cap, peppered hair, a beard, and a stout build. His hands were worn from a life of working hard. He had a small bag and carried two books. One was his bible and one was a large manga (comic) book. During the drive up out of Tokyo up to Tohoku, he took turns reading both. He was polite, soft spoken, and very quiet. At rest stops he would get out and walk around on his own. Only a few seemed to know him, but most in the group congregated with only their acquaintances. As I would open up snacks on the road I’d offer to share with him.
He’d warmly smile, laugh, and then accept. At the time although quiet, he did not seem remarkable. For the next few days he was with our group. He ate with us, talked with us, and stayed where we all slept 8 in small room. On the day we reached the Ishinomaki to distribute aid, I began to notice something. As the aid stations were set up, as the lines queued, and as the people interacted with. He seemed very elated. I could see him openly leading people to hard to find items that were lost in the piles. He would stoop down low to the same level as children as he’d speak to them. With the crowds and people he was lost amongst us. I don’t think any of us there that day came without sincerity.
I believe everyone had the most honest and best intentions. However I could sense that this day meant more to him. He seemed to have a inner perception that offered the right approach to engaging the ones in need. It’s likely that many of the people in the long lines had never before sought any form of hand out. Now with weeks of barely enough life essentials fathers, mothers, and children had to wait in soup lines and seek relief. One of the hardest things for me was knowing how to interact with people. What do we say, what do you do, how do communicate to a person who’s just likely lost a lot of friends and family. Sorrow and sadness are bountiful; needful things and happiness are not. How do find the right way of making things better without making thing worse. I watched him and learned. He would offer a light bow, a smile when reacted to, and he was one of the few that put smiles on many of the people. He offered sincerity. I can’t go on to explain it. I don’t know. But I did see that it meant a lot to him to help them. It meant a lot for him to empower them. On a human level he’s a really wise man. I had no idea until later. On any other day in a totally different place. The tables could be turned.
He’s homeless. He heard about the volunteer group and was moved to come and help the people. Of my immediate friends, colleagues, and people that I know in Tokyo; I can count very few that have actually gone up and volunteered. Many make have made donations and such. I have no intent to be dismissive. I just want to say this man went right into the more difficult path. When we shared our stories of the day, he broke down and cried. He said he could see in their eyes more hopelessness than people ought to have. He used very few words, but he was honest and moved. I learned a lot from him. I learned that I need to rethink things. I’m a person who’d grown up firmly believe that life is what you make it. There are no entitlements. There are consequences. But now sometimes, sometimes, I think the system fails. Parts of the machine get taken out. Parts get put aside. Nobody wants them. Sometimes they are still very good and worn perfectly into their roles. They may not look as shiny. They may not be new ones milled with technological advances. But they are not useless. Although forgotten, they have value. I heard that he fell on hard times when he lost his job. That because of his age of 61 it’s nearly impossible to find income to bring himself out of his situation. He refused to become a burden to his family so he went out on his own. Although homeless he is self sufficient. He collects used books and magazines to sell. In the homeless community he is a leader. He keeps his friends safe and assists them with guidance, day jobs, and counseling. I have to say this is an amazing person. I have rethink a few things about myself. On any given day in the Shinjuku area of Tokyo you’d likely pass him and not notice him. Most unlikely will people even want to engage him enough to know his name.
His name is Takahashi-San (Tallest Bridge). He’s an amazing man.
Linh Vien Thai is Amerasian, born in Dalat, South Vietnam, where he continued to lived during the war. He left for the U.S. and is now an American living in Tokyo. He enjoys adventure traveling and doing what’s right to make the world a better place.
