Recently I'm exploring the SNS called Facebook. I recently joined without even meaning to, just by checking out my son's url link shared in Mixi, a Japanese SNS. It was all in Japanese, and since I can't read kanji perfectly, wasn't even sure what I was clicking "yes" to, half the time. Before I knew it, I had my own page and the computer was automatically sending out invitations to all the people in my email address to add me to their list of FB friends. It was kind of daunting, frankly, but having already navigated Mixi three years ago, I didn't immediately panic, and have been able to roll with the punches as they've come. (It also helped when I changed the language to English!)
A real motivation in this effort, of course, is getting connected to a variety of old friends...or distant friends; or making new friends, and getting to correspond with this palette of people who weren't accessible two weeks ago! I'm always hungry for correspondents...I can't get enough human contact EVER, so social-networking sites are one form of technology I consider user-friendly!
I was reading an old Entertainment Weekly magazine the other day and happened upon an article written about how Facebook had undergone a "face lift" in March of this year (news to me!), and how awful everyone was finding it, as a result. Having nothing to compare the newly designed format to, I am relatively satisfied. Ignornace is bliss, as they say.
I got very excited today when an influx of messages appeared in my email inbox, all reporting on lots of Facebook activity. Since I use the computer as a stress-diffuser most of the time, having a new "toy" to play with in cyberspace has been awfully nice. Since an old high school friend had tracked me down, and another pal had just gotten married and shared his wedding/honeymoon photos in an album, I had fun today reconnecting with two more fellow c-space explorers!
Monday, June 8, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Technology: Friend or Foe?
We live in a technological age. Everyone is used to having a cell phone or two and many households out there own laptops as well as desktop computers. A great number of shoppers get a navigational system automatically when they buy a new car and most businesses rely on security systems with extensive technological do-dads, wiring and a fleet of guard men in patrol cars ready to rush over when there's a crack in the armor.
Despite all this, the baby boom generation grew up with one phone in the house (and well-to-do people had an extension!), the importance of sending handwritten thank you notes drilled into them by their moms, and family conversation around the dinner table as the central way to maintain communication channels. We looked people in the eye to 'chat,' and no one was allowed to read something simultaneously (like an text message) while having a conversation.
It was a more polite world, with more considerate and genteel behavior.
When I first moved to Japan, owning a computer was NOT a given yet, and email was still only a theory in some techno-whiz's mind. The terms "windows" and "apple" still only referred to glass squares placed in the wall of a house and a fruit as old as Eden, period. I was dragged kicking and screaming to the computer keyboard by a friend who was as determined to teach me how to use it as I was to avoid touching it at all costs. You can imagine how grateful to her I am, now, thirteen years later! But I can remember when television commercials started showing urls of homepages and thinking, "What about people who don't own a computer???" quickly followed by, "Oh right, I'm really going to be able to jot down that in 15 seconds!"
So how did we get to where we are today, with our Blackberries, Sidekicks, iphones and who knows what else? (I refuse to own a cell phone, so I'm not up-to-the-minute on the latest key equipment.) What is the slowpoke to do, if they haven't gotten on the technological bandwagon and/or jumped on with both feet?
There are a lot of people out there in that kind of pickle...they can't afford to run out and get the latest this and that; they can't afford it even when it's become obsolete and has been replaced by something else hot off the factory lines' press. I'm struggling even with a computer I rely on every day, simply because I haven't updated to Windows XP yet... I'm shut out of much of the latest downloadable software. Sure, I'd like to buy something new, but how in the world do I hope to master using it, if I still haven't got everything on THIS one figured out yet. I know I am so far behind the flow of progression that once I can afford to buy something newer, it'll also be a relic by that time.
The expression "user-friendly" is such an ironic joke! Technology, in general, is NOT user-friendly, even to a fraction of an ounce. User-friendly would be built to last for one thing. It would be timeless for another. I'm left to feel once again, that technology has it in for me... and there's not much hope for change in my situation. sigh
Despite all this, the baby boom generation grew up with one phone in the house (and well-to-do people had an extension!), the importance of sending handwritten thank you notes drilled into them by their moms, and family conversation around the dinner table as the central way to maintain communication channels. We looked people in the eye to 'chat,' and no one was allowed to read something simultaneously (like an text message) while having a conversation.
It was a more polite world, with more considerate and genteel behavior.
When I first moved to Japan, owning a computer was NOT a given yet, and email was still only a theory in some techno-whiz's mind. The terms "windows" and "apple" still only referred to glass squares placed in the wall of a house and a fruit as old as Eden, period. I was dragged kicking and screaming to the computer keyboard by a friend who was as determined to teach me how to use it as I was to avoid touching it at all costs. You can imagine how grateful to her I am, now, thirteen years later! But I can remember when television commercials started showing urls of homepages and thinking, "What about people who don't own a computer???" quickly followed by, "Oh right, I'm really going to be able to jot down that in 15 seconds!"
So how did we get to where we are today, with our Blackberries, Sidekicks, iphones and who knows what else? (I refuse to own a cell phone, so I'm not up-to-the-minute on the latest key equipment.) What is the slowpoke to do, if they haven't gotten on the technological bandwagon and/or jumped on with both feet?
There are a lot of people out there in that kind of pickle...they can't afford to run out and get the latest this and that; they can't afford it even when it's become obsolete and has been replaced by something else hot off the factory lines' press. I'm struggling even with a computer I rely on every day, simply because I haven't updated to Windows XP yet... I'm shut out of much of the latest downloadable software. Sure, I'd like to buy something new, but how in the world do I hope to master using it, if I still haven't got everything on THIS one figured out yet. I know I am so far behind the flow of progression that once I can afford to buy something newer, it'll also be a relic by that time.
The expression "user-friendly" is such an ironic joke! Technology, in general, is NOT user-friendly, even to a fraction of an ounce. User-friendly would be built to last for one thing. It would be timeless for another. I'm left to feel once again, that technology has it in for me... and there's not much hope for change in my situation. sigh
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Celebrating a Life VS Mourning a Death
On March 21st, our family held a memorial service to honor my father, who passed away last November. My mother spent much of the four months between the time of his death till then, planning with great care how best to honor his memory through the memorial service. Anyone who attended it can attest to how lovingly and faithfully she designed every facet; from the musical selections played by the recorder choir my dad loved listening to once a month when they played at church & by the organist in the prelude, to the ones performed by my brother (on guitar) and my nieces (on violin and viola, and again vocally). All the songs the congregation sang were also favorites of my dad.
The best part of the service for me, though, were the words of remembrance given by my brother and my nephew (representing the kids and grandkids), followed by a random and spontaneous selection of comments offered by the guests in attendance, that the pastor went around capturing with a cordless microphone. Although I knew many of the folk reminiscing and could even remember firsthand some of the anecdotes they shared, it was very interesting hearing how my dad had touched their lives and it was gratifying they wanted us to know what he had meant to them.
I wasn't able to contribute anything for the service personally, but I also had the opportunity to pay tribute to my dad by preparing a number of small visual exhibits (for the reception afterwards), celebrating various facets of his life:
1. his artistic talents,
2. his hard work for the International YMCA organization throughout his entire life,
3. his dedication as an editor to many newsletters through the years,
4. his work as a college professor, advisor to foreign students and as the director of Continuing Education at his school and later Assistant to the President (of the college).
5. I had a poster of a world map on the wall, with strings glued from many countries where he worked as consultant and trainer for the Y, to photos from those experiences arranged on the outer border.
6. There was a collage of photos celebrating his life as family man and friend to so many.
My biggest regret was that I never took a proper photo of the exhibit before dismantling it. But I was glad many who attended the reception got to see it. My son was able to catch this one shot of part of it, anyway.
A dear friend wrote me just before I left for the states to attend the service that this was my father's last gift to all of us: the opportunity to gather together and celebrate his life. I felt his presence there, without having him physically present.
I felt him in my eldest brother, who is so like him in character (despite his great efforts to the contrary), it was a little spooky.
I felt him in my cousin, whom I hadn't met in 40 years so it hit me like a ton of bricks when he reminded me of my uncle (who was Dad's younger brother).
I felt him in my son, who dutifully took it upon himself to be the cameraman of the event, bless his heart. I had the same familiar sense of security, knowing I didn't need to use my camera at all and he would "cover" things for all of us (just like my dad used to do).
I felt him in my nephew, who has the same friendly people skills imbedded in his genes!
Daddy was everywhere -- in the Y's Men and Women who loved him enough to come all the way from my hometown in Illinois to attend.
And I felt him in the people of the retirement community where he lived for nearly 13 years, touching lives in a significant way.
The entire day was a joyous celebration of HIS LIFE, beyond any argument. And it proved what I have believed all along: that there is much more value in holding a big party to honor the one that has "gone before" us, rather than have a funeral to mourn their passing, and our loss. In the case of my dad, there wasn't anything lost. He added life everywhere he was and through everyone he touched. Even through his death, LIFE is what remains for us and LIFE is beckoning us to follow in his footsteps!
The best part of the service for me, though, were the words of remembrance given by my brother and my nephew (representing the kids and grandkids), followed by a random and spontaneous selection of comments offered by the guests in attendance, that the pastor went around capturing with a cordless microphone. Although I knew many of the folk reminiscing and could even remember firsthand some of the anecdotes they shared, it was very interesting hearing how my dad had touched their lives and it was gratifying they wanted us to know what he had meant to them.
I wasn't able to contribute anything for the service personally, but I also had the opportunity to pay tribute to my dad by preparing a number of small visual exhibits (for the reception afterwards), celebrating various facets of his life:
1. his artistic talents,
2. his hard work for the International YMCA organization throughout his entire life,
3. his dedication as an editor to many newsletters through the years,
4. his work as a college professor, advisor to foreign students and as the director of Continuing Education at his school and later Assistant to the President (of the college).
5. I had a poster of a world map on the wall, with strings glued from many countries where he worked as consultant and trainer for the Y, to photos from those experiences arranged on the outer border.
6. There was a collage of photos celebrating his life as family man and friend to so many.
My biggest regret was that I never took a proper photo of the exhibit before dismantling it. But I was glad many who attended the reception got to see it. My son was able to catch this one shot of part of it, anyway.
A dear friend wrote me just before I left for the states to attend the service that this was my father's last gift to all of us: the opportunity to gather together and celebrate his life. I felt his presence there, without having him physically present.
I felt him in my eldest brother, who is so like him in character (despite his great efforts to the contrary), it was a little spooky.
I felt him in my cousin, whom I hadn't met in 40 years so it hit me like a ton of bricks when he reminded me of my uncle (who was Dad's younger brother).
I felt him in my son, who dutifully took it upon himself to be the cameraman of the event, bless his heart. I had the same familiar sense of security, knowing I didn't need to use my camera at all and he would "cover" things for all of us (just like my dad used to do).
I felt him in my nephew, who has the same friendly people skills imbedded in his genes!
Daddy was everywhere -- in the Y's Men and Women who loved him enough to come all the way from my hometown in Illinois to attend.
And I felt him in the people of the retirement community where he lived for nearly 13 years, touching lives in a significant way.
The entire day was a joyous celebration of HIS LIFE, beyond any argument. And it proved what I have believed all along: that there is much more value in holding a big party to honor the one that has "gone before" us, rather than have a funeral to mourn their passing, and our loss. In the case of my dad, there wasn't anything lost. He added life everywhere he was and through everyone he touched. Even through his death, LIFE is what remains for us and LIFE is beckoning us to follow in his footsteps!
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
My Men
I love this photo. It was taken at the reception for my father's memorial service on March 21st. Can you decipher the relationship between these men? They are the men in my family (minus my husband, who wasn't able to attend the event); all very important to me.
The two on the left are brothers. Probably anyone could guess that; they have looked similarly most of their lives, due to a fondness for facial hair. The second and third from the left are father and son. Their similarity is also striking, probably also due to the shape of their beards, among other shared qualities.
The next fellow, second from the right, is a dead ringer for his father, my deceased uncle. I'm sorry to say I don't have any photos of him to show you; just take my word for it. He's my brothers' and my only first cousin; we got to see him for the first time in 40 years!!
The fellow on the end to the right is my son, of course. He takes after both my husband and I; so there is some likeness shared between he and his American first cousins, shown in the following photo.
Monday, April 6, 2009
The ABCs of Culture Shock
You know how when a person goes to live in another country everybody talks about culture shock? That's referring to how a person leaves the very familiar and comfortable home country's environment ("A") and discovers how strange and different the new ("B") country's customs seem in comparison to 'home.'
If you live in B long enough (and especially if you have no plan to return to A to live), it becomes less alien and B's culture becomes the more familiar, so that when you go back to visit A again, you experience reverse culture shock. With that, you get to see with much more clarity the quirks or charm points of your original culture, and you can appreciate that it isn't the only way to live anymore. You have an expanded field of reference. You are a stretched, more globally aware individual. The blinders have been dismantled and you will never again see A as A, but rather, as C, a revised version.
The experience of culture shock, and/or reverse culture shock is a wonderful opportunity to gain insight into the way you tick as an individual. You can discover a lot about yourself: why you are the way you are, and why you relate to others the way you do. I tend to be rather self-analytical to begin with, so such an opportunity is a pleasant and welcome one.
That said, I am left wondering what to call the experience I am having right now, upon returning to Japan after three lovely weeks with my mom in her Ohio home. Is there a reverse-reverse culture shock??? My Japanese home (I called "B" up to this point), is being seen in a new light during the period of adjustment back to Japanese time/space/climate, etc. I'm tempted to call it "D" in fact. "D" for dirty (ha ha), or disorganized (and how!), or disturbingly silent.
This trip back to my mom's house was the very first time I got to spend twenty-two days talking to just my mom (for the most part). Twenty-two days of being cared for and cared about by the one person in my life who has the most invested in me; more than husband, son, brothers, other relatives, students or friends. I was immersed in her love 24/7.
I don't know that I've ever felt it this intensely before, because I was always a Daddy's girl, and my relationship with my mom was like sloppy seconds, or something. Never intentionally that of course, but simply as a result of the dynamics at work with my dad; he was possessive of my affection and his attention defined my value as a daughter. When he forgot who I was due to the Alzheimer's, it was a blow to my identity as a daughter.
Having my existence fulfill a big need in my mom after his death was the beginning of healing that gash in my identity and laid the foundation of the wonderful relationship we are now privileged to share. I have never been happier as her daughter. Talking together as much as we did during those twenty-two days was so stress-free. I didn't need the computer, or TV, or a Game Boy, or movies (all coping methods vitally important for stress-diffusion in Japan). I did miss snacking after a couple of weeks (because we tend to eat three meals a day in her world), and found myself doing that more the last week, so that stress-diffuser was still necessary on some level. I need a little more introspection to figure that one out, I guess.
But all the other ways I battle my loneliness in living in a land where I am more misunderstood than not, and have to work so hard to communicate with others (particularly my husband), were completely unnecessary while in the presence of my mom. She listened when I needed to talk, almost compulsively, after the family reunion (in which my elderly aunt and one sister-in-law did talk compulsively to any and everyone for much of the time), and I listened, too, although not as patiently, I'm afraid. It really meant a lot to me to have her love for me reaffirmed. When Daddy was alive, he hogged the Loving Parent Limelight, and I was just foolish enough not to look beyond him much. I can see now I did her a great disservice. I wish she were here to hug in apology!
Hmmm, I can see my culture shock-related musings have veered off into another reflective direction...which I'll take as my cue to stop for today.
If you live in B long enough (and especially if you have no plan to return to A to live), it becomes less alien and B's culture becomes the more familiar, so that when you go back to visit A again, you experience reverse culture shock. With that, you get to see with much more clarity the quirks or charm points of your original culture, and you can appreciate that it isn't the only way to live anymore. You have an expanded field of reference. You are a stretched, more globally aware individual. The blinders have been dismantled and you will never again see A as A, but rather, as C, a revised version.
The experience of culture shock, and/or reverse culture shock is a wonderful opportunity to gain insight into the way you tick as an individual. You can discover a lot about yourself: why you are the way you are, and why you relate to others the way you do. I tend to be rather self-analytical to begin with, so such an opportunity is a pleasant and welcome one.
That said, I am left wondering what to call the experience I am having right now, upon returning to Japan after three lovely weeks with my mom in her Ohio home. Is there a reverse-reverse culture shock??? My Japanese home (I called "B" up to this point), is being seen in a new light during the period of adjustment back to Japanese time/space/climate, etc. I'm tempted to call it "D" in fact. "D" for dirty (ha ha), or disorganized (and how!), or disturbingly silent.
This trip back to my mom's house was the very first time I got to spend twenty-two days talking to just my mom (for the most part). Twenty-two days of being cared for and cared about by the one person in my life who has the most invested in me; more than husband, son, brothers, other relatives, students or friends. I was immersed in her love 24/7.
I don't know that I've ever felt it this intensely before, because I was always a Daddy's girl, and my relationship with my mom was like sloppy seconds, or something. Never intentionally that of course, but simply as a result of the dynamics at work with my dad; he was possessive of my affection and his attention defined my value as a daughter. When he forgot who I was due to the Alzheimer's, it was a blow to my identity as a daughter.
Having my existence fulfill a big need in my mom after his death was the beginning of healing that gash in my identity and laid the foundation of the wonderful relationship we are now privileged to share. I have never been happier as her daughter. Talking together as much as we did during those twenty-two days was so stress-free. I didn't need the computer, or TV, or a Game Boy, or movies (all coping methods vitally important for stress-diffusion in Japan). I did miss snacking after a couple of weeks (because we tend to eat three meals a day in her world), and found myself doing that more the last week, so that stress-diffuser was still necessary on some level. I need a little more introspection to figure that one out, I guess.
But all the other ways I battle my loneliness in living in a land where I am more misunderstood than not, and have to work so hard to communicate with others (particularly my husband), were completely unnecessary while in the presence of my mom. She listened when I needed to talk, almost compulsively, after the family reunion (in which my elderly aunt and one sister-in-law did talk compulsively to any and everyone for much of the time), and I listened, too, although not as patiently, I'm afraid. It really meant a lot to me to have her love for me reaffirmed. When Daddy was alive, he hogged the Loving Parent Limelight, and I was just foolish enough not to look beyond him much. I can see now I did her a great disservice. I wish she were here to hug in apology!
Hmmm, I can see my culture shock-related musings have veered off into another reflective direction...which I'll take as my cue to stop for today.
Monday, March 9, 2009
It's Been A Privilege
As my father's memorial service nears, I've been enjoying putting together a collection of friends' and family members' memories and episodes about their relationship with my dad and shared activities of the past. My brother scanned a number of old photos my mom dug out and sent them to me to help me illustrate the words with past images, too.
While typing and laying out the pages for the planned memory book, I've been gradually visualizing the poster collage I will create after arriving at my mom's later this week. I hope to hang the collage in the room where the reception will be held following the service. I bought the file folder book to house the pages I've finished so far on the computer; it is fun to see it all come together after planning this for so long (since a couple of weeks after my dad's passing in mid-November). And it has been a real joy to relive so many memories, and glimpse into ones of my father's friends and associates as well.
In Japan there is a way to describe a man like my dad: they would say, "his face was wide" (顔が広かったです。）. This means he really knew a lot of people from all different walks of life, all over the world. He had a large influence on so many, and I've been blessed to hear their accounts of what a great man he was. Thank you to any of you reading this today. It's been a privilege!
While typing and laying out the pages for the planned memory book, I've been gradually visualizing the poster collage I will create after arriving at my mom's later this week. I hope to hang the collage in the room where the reception will be held following the service. I bought the file folder book to house the pages I've finished so far on the computer; it is fun to see it all come together after planning this for so long (since a couple of weeks after my dad's passing in mid-November). And it has been a real joy to relive so many memories, and glimpse into ones of my father's friends and associates as well.
In Japan there is a way to describe a man like my dad: they would say, "his face was wide" (顔が広かったです。）. This means he really knew a lot of people from all different walks of life, all over the world. He had a large influence on so many, and I've been blessed to hear their accounts of what a great man he was. Thank you to any of you reading this today. It's been a privilege!
Saturday, February 28, 2009
The Gathering of the Clan
My father's memorial service will be held three weeks from today. I have eleven days to get my act together before my plane takes off, and I arrive in Ohio, at my mom's. I finally got my international driver's license the other day, and I have my re-entry permit already in my passport. I'll get out my suitcase soon and begin to make lists of things to take and what I need to buy while in the states. Thus start the pre-travel jitters that promise to rob me of sleep and peace of mind for the remainder of my preparation time!
The one glowing reward factor--the carrot dangling in front of this old pack mule, as it were--is the thought of the entire family gathered together for the first time in nine long years! This time we'll also welcome to the reunion my first cousin and his wife, someone I haven't seen in over forty years! (We've completely missed out on each others' best years! ha!) So that is an additional 'carrot!'
I am really going to enjoy this opportunity to reunite! My oldest friend from childhood is coming, as well as my oldest friend from my life in Japan. Such blessings to sweeten and refresh this time of grief's closure. May all go smoothly and may my mom's heart be blessed by the gathering of the clan!
The one glowing reward factor--the carrot dangling in front of this old pack mule, as it were--is the thought of the entire family gathered together for the first time in nine long years! This time we'll also welcome to the reunion my first cousin and his wife, someone I haven't seen in over forty years! (We've completely missed out on each others' best years! ha!) So that is an additional 'carrot!'
I am really going to enjoy this opportunity to reunite! My oldest friend from childhood is coming, as well as my oldest friend from my life in Japan. Such blessings to sweeten and refresh this time of grief's closure. May all go smoothly and may my mom's heart be blessed by the gathering of the clan!
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