On a sunny day in Tokyo, whatever the season, a strange phenomenon can regularly be observed: for a moment a streak of light will pierce into a street which has been shrouded all day in the shadows of densely-packed buildings.
I’m transforming my room into an office, and over the past month have been unearthing books, photos, and other bits and pieces of the past. My favorite so far is an essay my then ten-year-old brother Jad presented in English class.
While my Japanese fluency was increasing almost by the hour, I stubbornly refused to do my kanji homework. And in the kanji sections of my exams, I’d just draw smileys and other doodles in the blanks where the letters were supposed to go. However, all that changed when I discovered the secret.