The Best of Both Worlds

Today at school I was told that there was going to be a special announcement at 3:30, and was asked to make sure I was in the teachers room at that time.  Once all the teachers had arrived, kyoto-sensei (the assistant principal) read the news that another teacher from a different section of the school had died this afternoon.  Just like that he stood up to say XXX sensei, honjitsu seikyo (–{“úÀ‹Žj.  Normally the word used for death in Japanese is shinu or nakunaru, which are the general terms that correspond to “die” or “pass away” in English.  Seikyo is a formal term that adds an extra level of respect on to the deceased.  I had never heard it used before, and, although I was pretty sure of what it meant from the separate kanji involved, had to look it up in my dictionary.  But more than just acting as a formal term for death, it had the effect of separating us emotionally even more from what had just happened.  Hearing such a strange and remote word used to describe an event so profound and so directly related to all of us teachers, created the oddest feeling in me. 

The first thing I thought was, “Wow, someone who was just living life amongst us a week ago, is completely gone now.  What a scary thing to even contemplate.”  The scariest part is that life does go on, and that there is nothing we can do except to accept this fact and just go on with our routine.  But what about her?  What about the people who cared about her?  They had no idea this would happen now.  And to be all the way in Mexico, this strange country that probably means nothing to any of her family in Japan.  Mexico took this persons life away, and you know that Mexico doesnt care one bit about that.  Nobody here even bats an eye at a traffic death.  I suppose that is somewhat true anywhere, but when you die in a foreign country it is worse, because it is like the event never even happened.  There is nobody there to mourn for you, and the only regret left over, is from the locals who have to deal with this foreigner whom they could not have cared less about.  How sad.

After the announcement, everyone went back to work like it was nothing.  I understand that people grieve in different ways, but thats not how I want it to be when I am gone.  My life becoming just a quick five minute story for some guy to tell his family about when he gets home from work, with no respect whatsoever.  Mexicans have a fairly light regard for death.  Dolls of dancing skeletons dressed up as mariachis are commonplace, and skeletons in general are a recurring image in Mexican artwork.  Every morning at my newstand are a series of different newspapers carrying pictures on the front page of some gruesome murder, or train accident from the night before.  I hate seeing those newspapers. Seeing them makes me think that those peoples lives were worth nothing more than the few pesos that the paper could earn off of them that morning.  Life shouldnt be cheapened like that.