They began during the pandemic. While mobility restrictions weren’t as severe as they had been at the beginning, in 2020 the world was still semi-paralyzed, on edge due to a disease that was decimating countries like Peru.
Enrique Kawamura, a guide and writer, and Harumi Suenaga, a visual artist, both Cusco natives of Japanese origin, then embarked on an ambitious project: to graphically document the history of the Nikkei community in Cusco.
Four years later, they gave birth to Japanese Immigration to Cusco (1910–1980), a bilingual photobook (Spanish and Japanese) with photographs of Issei and their descendants settled in the archaeological capital of the Americas.
The work, which covers the period 1910–80, contains images of eleven families with long-standing roots in Cusco, such as those of Enrique and Harumi.
“What we were primarily looking for was to rescue the history of Japanese immigrants in Cusco,” explains the artist.
Intimate testimony
“The objective of this work is to offer a visual and intimate account of the historical, personal, and family journey of the first Japanese immigrants to the city of Cusco,” reads the book’s prologue.
“Through careful photographic recording, we seek to capture the truth of the heart and mind, appealing to the senses to illustrate how this community contributed to enriching the cultural fabric of Cusco,” concludes the preface to a work composed of five chapters.
The first of these is titled “The Beginning of Friendship” and includes a map of Japan showing the prefectures where the Issei people originated. The first patriarch of the Japanese-origin community in Cusco, Otomatsu Nishiyama, was born in Wakayama-ken.
The photo that opens the chapter is a picture of the Nishiyama family in 1905 when Otomatsu was 15 years old, still living in Wakayama and perhaps far from imagining that he would build a life in the land of the Incas.
The second part, “Immigrants and Their Descendants,” places the Issei in Cusco, where Otomatsu Nishiyama had settled in 1910 and opened a boarding house and restaurant called California, which was popular at the time.
Nishiyama married Jesús Gonzales, a Peruvian woman with whom he had six children, one of whom was Eulogio, who would later achieve fame as a photographer.
Also notable are Yokichi Nouchi, a native of Fukushima who has gone down in history as the first mayor of the town of Machu Picchu (here we tell his story) and Meichi Inugay, one of the first Japanese-language tour guides in Cusco.
The third chapter, “Union of Two Cultures,” depicts a Nikkei community already formed and rooted in Cusco society.
The fourth, “Peruvian-Japanese Association of Cusco,” as its title indicates, tells the history of the institution since its genesis in 1982 and the activities alluding to Japanese culture that it has organized since then (Japanese language and cooking classes, film screenings, origami and ikebana exhibitions, etc.).
The final chapter, “Portraits Without Time,” shows old photographs of Japanese people in Cusco (from the Nishiyama archive) whom the book’s authors have been unable to identify. Perhaps they were simply visitors, not immigrants like the book’s subjects.
In memory of grandparents
Enrique Kawamura and Harumi Suenaga searched archives for documentation and relied on family and friends for photos for their book. It was painstaking work, supported by the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA) and the Kuria Savings and Credit Cooperative, so their patient labors could be transformed into a publication.
The book—probably the first published about the Nikkei in Cusco—“has been a kind of ayni (‘reciprocity’ in Quechua), a mutual collaboration between the participants, both Nikkei and Japanese,” Enrique emphasizes.
By involving their own families, Japanese Immigration to Cusco (1910–1980) was not just another work experience for the authors of the work, grandchildren of former presidents of the APJ Cusco: Enrique, from the Japanese Marcial Kawamura, and Harumi, from the Nisei Héctor Suenaga.
Thus, putting together the book was like reconstructing their family sagas stone by stone and delving into their memories to extract the figures of their grandparents when they were children.
Enrique reveals that his ojiichan arrived in Cusco in the late 1930s to work in a relative’s bazaar. He later became independent and opened an ice cream shop, which made him well-known in the city.
The writer remembers him as a man who was uncommunicative and kept a low profile, but at the same time as a sociable person who belonged to several local clubs and served as honorary consul of Japan in Cusco.
He liked fishing, and he would accompany him. On their trips, she recalls him as a person “impassive, completely at ease, driving the car, not singing, but humming sad songs, probably with Japanese motifs.”
Enrique sees his work as a reflection of his grandfather's spirit of service. Just as his grandfather served his fellow countrymen who visited Cusco (even welcoming them into his home), being a guide for him means “repaying the Japanese tourists with kindness. Grandfather helped in his own way; I want to help in my own way.”
Harumi’s grandfather, Héctor Suenaga, migrated to Cusco in the 1960s, where he opened a bodywork business that made him a pioneer in the sector in the city.
The artist remembers her entrepreneurial grandfather participating in the APJ meetings, fully dedicated to an institution of which he was president for around 30 years.
Of his grandmother, Blanca Hironaka, he says she supported his grandfather in the business and APJ activities. He remembers her preparing makizushi and passing on her culinary knowledge to her offspring.
Perfectly integrated into the Andean style
The Japanese integrated into Cusco society through their businesses, says Harumi. They opened bazaars primarily in the city center, she adds. She cites Manuel Ohmura as an example.
Enrique says that social organizations, such as a fishing club, contributed to his ojii’s integration in Cusco.
Also, of course, his shop, near several schools, which is why it was a mandatory stop for his students when they left class and were looking for ice cream.
During World War II, Japanese merchants—like Marcial Kawamura—had to go into hiding; however, thanks to the bonds of friendship they established with Cusco residents, they registered their businesses in their own names so as not to lose them.
“What is being said is that this entire Japanese society in Cusco has always enjoyed high esteem because it is a friendly society, a society that integrates with customs, a society that is both simple in its customs and perfectly adapted to the Andean culture,” Enrique states.
Harumi buttresses her words by recounting that when they went to the Cusco Municipal Library to deliver some copies, the institution’s director remembered Marcial Kawamura’s ice cream shop and also told them that her mother had been a good friend of the artist’s obaachan.
Identity and “schizophrenia”
Enrique and Harumi are deeply connected to their Japanese roots. They both speak Nihongo. He was a dekasegi and works as a Japanese tour guide in Cusco, while she teaches the language.
Regarding his identity, Enrique says, “We’re split,” as if a lightning bolt had split them in two (his analogy). “Suddenly, Harumi and I have this kind of schizophrenia... It’s nice to be part of here, part of there,” he says.
“We both have this sense of connection to Japanese culture,” he adds.
The writer holds Japan in high regard. “I praise Japanese culture quite a bit, although sometimes some people get bored, because they say, ‘Oh my God, for this kid, Japan is everything.’ But what better model could I have for comparison than Japan? I mean, living in a society—forgive me—like Peru’s, which lives in informality, which suffers from so many cultural flaws....”
“I know that Japan, too, has its dirty records,” he clarifies. “At least it’s a society worth emulating. It’s a society in which values, coexistence, and respect are prevalent,” he reflects.
“Well, there are also extreme cases, aren’t there? The son hasn’t visited his father for 20 years, and he’s two blocks away. There are also issues that have sometimes made Japan a very cold society,” he adds a new nuance.
Harumi, for her part, values the Japanese language as “a whole philosophy: when you start to understand it, you get to know the culture quite a bit.”
Colophon
Today, there are few Nikkei left in Cusco. Many emigrated to Japan or other destinations. The day of the book launch was a good opportunity for Japanese descendants to gather (at least for the duration of the event).
Enrique and Harumi don't want their work—which has helped them better understand themselves as Nikkei and which they present as a token of gratitude to their ancestors who laid the foundations of the community—to be a final point. On the contrary, they hope it will spur others to continue researching the history of Japanese immigration to Cusco, as they believe there are still stories to be told.
They started the race. Hopefully, others will take over.
© 2025 Enrique Higa Sakuda
