My name is Ignacio Jimeno, and I am a first year High School ALT based in Hirado Island.
Miami is an interesting place to grow up. Fifty odd years ago, it was graced with the presence of a huge migration of Hispanic culture that helped define the city, and for better or worse, the people living there. I am a product of that migration, and one whose identity was forged by the city. And there’s nothing like moving to Japan to help shine a spotlight on the concept of identity.
Though I was born a citizen of the United States, my family came from and raised me in a very Cuban fashion. Growing up, my command of Spanish reigned supreme (a trait that would change with years of schooling and quality television programming), and I grew up with what I always considered the best of both worlds combined. The harsher realities of being a PoC were lost to me until I grew older, as the multiculturalism that permeated throughout the city served as a sanctuary during my youth.
A single rest stop on a trip from Miami to a small city in Northern Florida for a debate tournament. That one moment at age 14 was all it took to open my eyes to the reality of being a PoC more than traveling to any foreign country ever did. A school bus full of teens, ever so slightly rowdy and excited, walked through the doors of a solitary Cracker Barrel (a southern-style chain restaurant). My classmates and I, speaking merrily in Spanish, were silenced by the eyes of every other person in that establishment. The warning our coach gave us to not speak in the restaurant fell on deaf ears, a moment that, although blurry and lacking detail, indented a feeling I’d been unfamiliar with my entire life.
We don’t belong here.
They say ignorance is bliss, but that event opened my eyes. Learning about and experiencing different places became a passion for me. Combined with the interest I had for Japan, it was only natural that I came to this point, to Hirado island in Nagasaki prefecture.
On that note, it’s hard to imagine a place that contrasts the attributes of Miami more so than Japan. The mountainous landscape, its homogenous culture, and the collective tatemae of Japanese behavior are just a few that attribute to the stark contrast. One travels a good 18 hours to arrive to what seems to be the other side of the world, not just in geography, but spiritually and culturally as well. However, that contrast grows when comparing Miami to Hirado Island. You have this boisterous city where the citizens can be heard shouting in multiple languages all throughout the day compared to this tranquil island where the loudest sound is the 5:45 PM announcement for elementary school children to go home. You go from a globally connected city with 4 airports situated within an hour’s drive, to an island accessible only by driving across a minimized version of the Golden Gate bridge.
And yet, despite the many differences from Miami, Hirado feels like a budding new second home. The sense of closeness and community the islanders exhibit gives a feeling of familial closeness. Though this feeling didn’t start out that way. Rather than being an issue of being a PoC, it was more of an issue of becoming familiar. Hirados’ love of food and recipes, and passion for their own ingredients drives their yearning for tasting different flavors and attempting different cooking styles (although the destined opening of a wonderful Mexican restaurant in Hirado 3 months after I arrived was very welcome). But one thing is for sure, unlike that one day in high school, I’ve never felt like I don’t belong.
For me, the most tremendous benefit of being a PoC on my island is the wonder and curiosity in which people see my culture. Students in particular engage, for example, by trying dances in class (Mastering the Macarena 101). Comments about my Spanish are made with eager interest, with students wanting to learn words that sound similar in both languages for entertainment (try giving “garlic” a Google search). I have the great honor of being one of the first ambassadors of Hispanic culture to many of the students and people of my island. It’s brought me nothing but joy when everyone here has proved receptive.
There’s no being certain about anything regarding being a PoC in Japan, but I’ll offer this advice. Get to know yourself. Every interaction, from sharing culture to blending into your community, to even experiencing racism, will probably come your way. Knowledge and certainty in one’s identity and oneself is the strongest tool you have to both sharing and overcoming hardship while in Japan.
by Ignacio Jimeno, 1st year ALT in Hirado
