John Wayne would have made a great samurai.
He often killed eight men with his six shooter.
Samurais did the same thing… Slashed through two dozen other samurai with one sword…at least in the movies.
My mother drummed it into me for the first years of my life – that “my ancestors” were samurai.
And not just plain ol’ run-of-the-mill samurai.
They were 偉い侍.
Okie-dokie. I’ll help. High ranking samurai.
And its true…but flawed.
It gets too complicated so for argument’s sake, I have a second cousin, Toshio. He was adored by both my mother and Aunt Eiko. “Tosh-chan”, as we lovingly called him, was always kind to them through the years. Considering his horrendous working hours common amongst Japanese workers of that time, he still made the effort without complaint. He eventually became a top-notch engineer for Mitsubishi and worked in Cairo and Singapore to name a few places. He lives in Yokohama, Japan.
When I lived in Japan alone for a couple of years as a very young adult, ever faithful Tosh-chan was there again. This time to help me out as well.
As it turns out, and while mom was there with me visiting, he took us to his home village of Fukui, on the Japan Sea side. It was beautiful country and the area still had the ambience of pre-war Japan. We stayed at his parent’s house and were fortunate to meet some of the extended family. The house was typical from that early time – even the abode was outside. And the mosquitoes. Notice the plural? They never went away. The little buggers loved me… After a couple of hours, I was swollen like a Japanese pin cushion.
One day, Toshio drove mom, his mom and me to a very old temple, Zenshouji (全昌寺〒922-0807 Ishikawa Prefecture, Kaga, Daishoji Shinmeicho, １ if you’re curious). It was at least three centuries old and miraculously escaped US Naval bombardments.
We met with the head monk who took us to a room where we waited. We sat with our feet under our hineys; you should try that. Very uncomfortable. And the damn mosquitoes were there.
Then out came the monk with a VERY old notebook for the lack of a better description. It had black front and back covers. It was about three inches thick and quite dusty. It was held together by an old hemp string which bound EQUALLY old rice paper. He opened it up on the tatami flooring.
I wish I took photos of it. But my family (on my mother’s side) does have something similar in appearance. The paper and writing looked like something like this:
The rice paper the history was written on was from the 1600’s… from about the time the Mayflower set sail on her historic voyage putting it into an American mindset (which was AFTER the Native Americans were here, of course). And the writing had some details on “my” samurai ancestors. Unbelievable. Even Joan Rivers would have been speechless.
We then proceeded up a good sized hill accompanied by – you guessed it – the world’s supply of mosquitoes. I would have preferred just one Doutzen Kroes bug me. Was it my Hai Karate cologne?… or my blood infused by twenty years of Oscar Mayer bacon? Whatever it was, I must have smelled scrumptious to them. I was the nectar of the gods to the little buggers.
We climbed. And Tosh-chan pointed out that as we climbed up, the gravestones (called Ohaka) got older. And older. And older. 1900. 1850. 1800. 1750. 1700. 1650… “Fascinating,” as Spock frequently said.
Then, near the top of the hill by a ledge was a line of ohaka. There they were. “My” ancestors. Samurai ancestors. I was standing by their ashes.
The ohaka with the roofs on them mark the resting place of the honorable samurai. (The littler ones mark the resting place of children.) The one Tosh-chan and I are standing next to represents the resting place of a high ranking samurai. All their last names were of the “Shibayama” clan of which my grand-mother was one (my mother’s mother).
According to the family’s understanding, one ancestor was so skilled in swordsmanship that he was appointed the personal instructor to the son of a shogun. I’d have to admit that would be quite an honor back then. Others were feudal lords.
But…….. That is on my mother’s side and even then, half of that as she had her father’s blood in her… although my grandfather was also of samurai heritage. I know very little of grandfather’s side except that he came from the island of Shikoku.
And my father’s family? They were hard-working farmers. NOT samurai. And that’s one-half of ME.
So what does that make me? As mentioned at the beginning, my mother drummed into me my ancestors were samurai. I grew up thinking, “Yeah! I’m samurai!”
Yes, my ancestors were samurai. Noble ones at that. No doubt. But what my mother drummed into me was just a tad flawed to say the least. SOME of my ancestors were samurai.
So I guess John Wayne is more of a samurai than I.
Make that Tom Cruise. He did a much better job portraying one in “The Last Samurai”.
In a future post, you will learn of the true samurai. Not the lore. It is definitely not what you see in Hollywood movies.
But in closing this chapter, here is good ol’ Tosh-chan this past summer when my oldest son Takeshi and I went to Japan.
He helped us once again. Right down to the mosquitoes.