Hidden Intellect

There is a gentleman who has been coming to my English class at the seniors' day care center for a few years. Now retired, he previously worked in the law department of a large university. Each week, one of the staff leads him into my classroom and helps him sit down.

The first time I met him, I greeted him with a hello.

"Hello! How are you?" he answered clearly. (Now that's unusual, I thought.)

"I'm fine, thank you! How are you?"

Eyes twinkling, he replied, "I'm fine, thank you! It's a fine day, isn't it?"

I've gotten to know this delightful man over the years. His habitual blank face transforms when I call him by name, get his attention, and direct a question to him in English. He looks up, momentarily lucid, and answers politely - usually correctly - before lowering his face again.

Each week, we play a different card matching memory game. When his turn comes, he looks around confused and needs to be told to pick two cards, inevitably picking the two closest to him. He then says their names in English. He is the only one that does that. Perhaps the only one that can do that. When he does randomly get a match, he doesn't seem to understand the significance.

Towards the end of class, we play hangman, which I have changed to a non-morbid version with a little girl flying a kite. He has trouble coming up with a letter when it is his turn, needing a reminder each time. Yet, his face lights up with recognition when he guesses the correct word, impressing the class with his vocabulary.

At these times, I do an internal dance of joy.

After class, he will shake my hand, smiling, "Thank you! See you next week!" then hobble back to his seat, unstable, helper by his side to assist him. There he sits, head down slightly, face blank. Back to default.

He is 62 years old.

Age

Looking around the room, in awe of the age represented, the lives lived, the wars survived, I couldn't help marvelling at the beauty: the gently sagging jowls, the soft fairy-pillows tucked neatly under the eyes, the myriad lines of wisdom. I wondered if these people realized how deeply beautiful they are.

(Will I think I'm beautiful when if I survive into my 90's? Hmm, doubtful.)

Out of my reverie I wake, when my favorite 98 year old starts in on a story. I had lifted up the "fish" card, "When I was young that was the only fish left in the rivers and it was delicious! Such a delicious fish," and on she raved.

Next was the "duck" card, showing a clear color drawing of a mallard duck. "Pigeon" called my friend. This was the fourth time she'd made this mistake since the class began. "It's a duck," I told her, "a duck," the room joined me in good-natured laughter.

I love how age seems to bring with it a lack of self-consciousness and pettiness.

"Youth is the gift of nature, but age is a work of art."

Stanislaw Jerzy Lec

Midori no Hi

May 4th is "Midori no Hi" in Japan - "Greenery Day." Accordingly, I took a two hour walk through verdant forests and along narrow country roads. Even though I've lived here for many years, I walked in a completely new area about five kilometers to the north.

Along the way I met an old man driving by on his tractor who stopped to greet me. "There are tons of bamboo shoots around here!" he added. "Why don't you take some?"

"They're too much hassle to prepare, so I don't eat them." He laughed and went on his way.

A bit later, after plowing another of his fields, way further up the road he met me again on his tractor. We chatted a while in the shade of swaying bamboo, and he told me a little about himself. He had been born just after the war.

"Oh, that must have been tough," thinking of the devastation that was Japan at the end of WWII.

"Not at all! Not tough for me at all!"

"Oh, did you experience the bubble economy?" (The English word "bubble" is used in Japanese to refer to that era.)

"Yes! I was just an average 'salaryman.' When I retired, I was given two million yen. They asked me if I wanted to buy a car. I said, 'No, I want a tractor.' I bought a tractor, then I paid in cash to have a house built for me. I was set."

Indeed he was.

"Come and take vegetables from my garden anytime!" He told me before heading back to his house.

I wonder what his neighbors would think if they saw a middle-aged white woman taking vegetables from his garden when no one else was around.