人間万事塞翁が馬 Ningen Banji Saiou ga Uma

人間万事塞翁が馬

Ningen Banji Saiou ga Uma

Human's Everything Saiou's Horse

Long, long ago there lived a poor old farmer in China named Saiou. He only had one son and one horse to work the farm, until one day his horse ran off.  His friends and neighbors came to console him. “That’s so bad about your horse” 

But Saiou calmly replied; "Bad? good? Who knows?"

A few days later when out working the field his horse returned with another younger, stronger horse following it. News of this spread quickly and once again friends and neighbors stopped by, this time exclaiming "How lucky you are!" 

But ol Saiou just smiled and said "Lucky? Unlucky? Who knows?"

Sure enough the very next day the new horse threw his son. He landed hard and broke his arm. Neighbors and friends came to see him. “We're so sorry to hear about your son"

 Saiou replied "Bad luck, Good luck, Who knows?"

A week later a warlord arrived on horseback. He was going through the area collecting all the young men to go fight and die in the Emperor's latest war. When Saiou called his son outside the warlord saw the boy's condition and moved on without him. 

And the neighbors came by and said...

And Saiou replied...

Politics or pornography

I’d been in Japan a couple years before one unforgettable late fall morning in 2000.  A few teachers were sitting on the sofa in the teachers room at the junior high school where I was teaching as I entered. They were talking about something in the newspaper one was holding. I walked over to join them and as I approached the science teacher looked right at me and asked with a straight face: 

“Henry sensei, how about your erection?” 

We’d joked quite a bit and talked about many things by then but … 

“My… uh… My… What!?”

I could feel my face grow warm as I fumbled for a reply until finally it hit me.

“Oh! The Election!”

I’d told of voting via absentee ballot so he was asking my thoughts on Bush v. Gore and the Florida recount. 

I should note that I still have the damnedest time pronouncing りゅ (ryu) correctly. For many Japanese it’s the “L” phoneme that gives them fits. Thus my (country’s) “election” became my “erection”. 

After I removed my backpack from where I’d unconsciously placed it in front of my crotch and told why I was laughing myself silly by then, his mispronunciation gave rise (pun intended) to a lot of joking and we all sat laughing about it until the bell rang. 

The story is true, and that’s about as much as I’ll share about politics, elections (or erections) online anymore. 

stung by fried chicken and smiling

“Ow Ow Oooow!”

I saw it fly out of my shoe while I was still in what must’ve looked something like a frantic mid-air twist  jump screaming kung-fu disco move. 

“Mud hornet! Damn that hurts!”

  I bolted for the door and ran inside.  “thump -  thump  - thump” went my one non-stung still shoe clad foot across the wood floor as I made a beeline for the poison sucker gizmo on the shelf, all the while yelling  “I got stung” to the two boys in the living room. 

One laughed.  I’m sure it did look rather comical but…

“Hey! I was stung dang it! This hurts”. 

He then showed some sympathy, suggested I wash it so okay, nice save, but oldest boy remained nose buried in a book over in the corner of the sofa. He’d yet to as much as look up and acknowledge my presence in the room even. I hobbled over closer to him while still working the poison sucker on my foot.

“Hey! I got stung!” 

Nothing.

 Once more I tried, this time in Japanese. 

ドロバチに刺された！

He looked up. 

Okay that got his attention.  I continued in that mode:

English translation:  “This is the second time this week! Look! A piece of fried chicken stung me when snorkeling on Sunday.” I said while pointing to the squiggly red bumpy line on the inside of my calf. 

I didn’t realize until he looked up again and smiled at me in a way that screamed “You’re making no sense whatsoever” if not “OMG you’re such a goof!”

“Fried chicken… fried chicken…. No. Jellyfish!” 

That was enough to bring noise outa his smile.  

Genuine laughter. 

I couldn’t help but laugh too as I defensively added

 “What? They sound the same!” 

Alas kurage (jellyfish) and karaage (fried chicken) sound nothing alike to my kids. I, on the other hand, can still easily confuse the two along with many other things, such as enema and nervous (kanchō and kinchō), or sweet bean paste and poop (anko and unko). It’s especially easy to do when excited. 

Evening now and the boy still can’t look at me without breaking out in that smile. I’m pretty sure it’s the “OMG dad’s such a goof” smile but so be it. I don’t mind it being at my expense one bit. If it gets him to smile then play it for all it’s worth.
“ Karaage ni sasareta. Mada itai desu. (I was stung by fried chicken. It still hurts.) 

Head shaking side to side he hides an ear to ear grin behind the book, but not before I see it. 

My god what a joy it is to see your kid smile after riding out some long, difficult to bordering horrific months of  pain, fear and more pain. I’m sure most taking the time to read this know what I’m referring to.  I don’t know what’s to come, but really none of us know what the next moment will bring so nothing new there. For now I’m just grateful the smiles are coming back more and more lately. Hell I’m even grateful for that danged mud hornet and piece of fried chicken. 

Or jellyfish. Whatever. 

My point, or advice even, is notice the smiles in life.

 Experience it for all its worth, 

and please,

 notice the smiles.