PART 5

Living in the Land of Cherry Blossoms
Sakura Allen talks about growing up in Japan, a place she considers her homeland.

People still ask me where I’m from, even today. It used to bother me, but I’m used to it now. It’s just one of those things you have to put up with. I get why people assume that I’m not Japanese, of course: I’ve always taken after my father in looks. When people find out where I was actually born, they become even more intrigued. You see, my mother gave birth to me on an international flight just before landing on the runway at Tokyo airport. That might have caused a bureaucratic headache, since my father is American, but fortunately I automatically received Japanese citizenship due to my mother’s nationality.

As a young girl, I never questioned my identity, nor can I remember ever being made to feel like an outsider. I grew up in a bilingual household and was very close to my relatives on my mum’s side of the family. I watched Japanese cartoons and listened to pop music on the local radio station. Although my father insisted I attend the Hokkaido International School, an American institute here in Sapporo, I also had extra Japanese lessons every Saturday until I was twelve and, if I ever thought about it, I considered myself Japanese through and through.

I was in my early teens when I began to wonder whether I was in fact half-Japanese after hearing that children who have a non-Japanese parent are called `Hafu’, a term derived from the English word `half’.I asked my mother several times during those years about my half-Japanese status and she would always answer, “You’re not half anything, you’re a whole person.” This answer always struck me as less than satisfactory, but if Mum didn’t want to discuss the issue, I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere by pushing her. Still, the feeling of uncertainty stayed with me, although I kept it to myself for the most part.

Despite these doubts, it was always my view that Sapporo, on the northern Japanese island of Hokkaido was my permanent family home. My father sometimes took us along on his business trips to the USA, and we visited Washington for family celebrations throughout my childhood. We always had a great time, but I never imagined relocating. Eventually I left Sapporo to go and study in Tokyo, but leaving Japan altogether is still not an option that holds any attraction for me.

I still visit family and friends in Sapporo on a regular basis, and every time I’m there this beautiful large city evokes plenty of fond memories from my past. The earliest of these is of going with my grandfather to watch Consadole Sapporo, our local football team, play in a weekend match. The cheers of the crowd when Consadole scored the winning goal are still fresh in my mind. Other recollections have blurred together somewhat. Family traditions were very important to my mum, and we tended to do some things over and over again. For instance, she always took me to the annual snow festival in February to see the hundreds of snow statues and ice sculptures on display. Then, usually in late April or early May, she liked to take me for a weekend trip to the picturesque town of Kakunodate. When we were there, we would walk along the Hinokinai riverbank and have a picnic under the cherry trees when they were in full bloom. Mum loved their heavy sweet scent, and I’m sure that’s why she chose the name ‘Sakura’, which means cherry blossom in Japanese, for me.

Surprisingly, my father has never taken offence that I feel far more Japanese than American. I’m sure he realises that it makes sense given my upbringing. Despite his occasional efforts to help me understand and appreciate the way of life in the States, the cultural differences are just too huge. I vaguely remember him trying to get me to memorise a list of the US presidents when I was around five, but he didn’t seem too put out when I quickly gave up. He must have realised how irrelevant such information was likely to be to my life in Sapporo. I don’t think I was really conscious of it at the time but, looking back, it’s sad to recall that he was absent from a lot of my early childhood.

Overall, I am very proud of my Japanese heritage, and I don’t feel like I missed out on a lot by not spending more time in America. I’m no longer struggling with issues of identity as I did when I was a teen. Japan is my home, and I have a content and comfortable life here. My unusual family background has its benefits too. Being bilingual, for example, has certainly allowed me to progress more quickly in my career. Answering the occasional nosy question from someone who wonders why someone who looks vaguely foreign seems so Japanese in other ways is a small price to pay for that.