Japan continued....
School was great in Japan. It wasn't far from home and my dad used to drop me before going to work. I made lots of friends....Yuko, Yumi....Most of our classes were in English since it was an American missionary school. We had one class to learn japanese. I did struggle with the writing but I could speak fluently. There was one thing I loved to do.....forget my lunch box...then my class teacher would order a noodle soup which was so delicious. At times the other option was a hot dog....equally delicious.
The Annual Day in school meant doing something special. And my parents as true diplomats thought the best thing was to dress me in a saree with jewellery and send me for the annual day function. I know it worked. There was a Scottish boy who came dressed in his kilt. My parents have albums full of pictures of my school events and other memorable moments in their lives in Japan. .....
There was this sweet old man who used to visit us on Sundays...He had worked in India during the ears before Independance I think he was English or American. ......He would get gifts and spent the afternoon watching golf on TV with my dad while they had a few glasses of beer followed by a delectable meal.
My parents bought me an organ....not a piano but an organ like the kind you see in a church. I was too young to learn it. I just pretended to play something on it....
My mom, in the meantime, learnt machine knitting, Ikebana and doll making...Japanese dolls of course....the kind you display in your drawing room.
Then after two years there was a huge change in our lives. My kid brother was born. I was so excited when i saw him in along with so many japanese babies at the hospital. We brought him back and then, one day after he came there was this huge...ok maybe not huge...but an earthquake anyway....we were used to these small tremors....and the thick crust of the wall fell on the bed just a few inches from him.....small baby on the bed next to my mom. Oh my goodness.....that was some drama. The houses in Kobe and similar places where made to resist to such quakes....and so just the one inch crust tumbled....but even that could have killed a 4 day old baby. Luckily it all turned out well and I was delighted to have a real doll in the house....to play with....when authorized under supervision at the age of six. I would sulk at times of course since I felt neglected....there are pictures of that too. My dad took pics all the time....to capture those moments....and even today I love to go through his albums.
