Crónicas Nikkei #2—Nikkei+: Historias de Lenguaje, Tradiciones, Generaciones y Raza Mixtos
El ser nikkei es inherentemente una situación de tradiciones y culturas mezcladas. Para muchas de las comunidades y las familias nikkei alrededor del mundo no es inusual usar tanto palillos como tenedores, mezclar palabras japonesas con el español, o celebrar la cuenta regresiva de la víspera del Año Nuevo con champaña y el Oshogatsu con ozoni y otras tradiciones japonesas.
Discover Nikkei actualmente está acogiendo historias que exploran como los “nikkei” alrededor del mundo perciben y experimentan el ser multirraciales, multinacionales, multilingües, y multigeneracionales.
Cada artículo enviado a la antología Nikkei+ estuvo disponible para ser elegido como los favoritos de nuestra comunidad online.
Aquí están sus historias favoritas en cada idioma.
- Inglés:
Diario de una chica “hapa” loca y judoka
Por Chanda Ishisaka - Japonés:
Kokichi-san
Por Laura Honda-Hasegawa - Español:
El Mabuyá o el Temblor de la Suerte: Algunas Costumbres de mi Oba que ahora son Recuerdos de mi Infancia
Por Milagros Tsukayama Shinzato - Português:
La vela que se apaga
Por Eduardo Goo Nakashima
Historias de Esta Serie
El Mabuyá o el Temblor de la Suerte: Algunas Costumbres de mi Oba que ahora son Recuerdos de mi Infancia
3 de septiembre de 2013 • Milagros Tsukayama Shinzato
“No barras de noche que te volverás pobre” o “si te cortas las uñas de noche, el diablo va a venir”. O sino, el casi profético “ya va a llover…” que mi oba siempre decía cuando veía que el gato de la casa se lavaba la cara. Éstas y otras frases eran las que comúnmente escuchaba cuando era pequeña. Ya cuando mi oba nos dejó, poco a poco muchas de estas frases dejaron de resonar en casa, pero aún hay …
Sammy's Shitkickers
8 de noviembre de 2013 • Sakae Manning
I began to beat Sammy with his own leg braces, polished by mama to a new money shine, around the time people stopped looking at me, their eyes resting on Sammy, listening to his hospital stories, admiring his scars, a mountain range, crawling, stitch by stitch calf to heel. I would knock him in the head with his own hard, thick-soled boots. “Siblings do that sort of thing,” daddy once said as he puffed on a well-chewed pipe, smoke connecting …
What Tribe You From, Brother?
6 de noviembre de 2013 • Lily Yuriko Nakai Havey
When my son Michael was in high school he was approached by a group of young Navajo men who asked him, “What tribe you from, brother?” “Tribe?” he replied, puzzled. “You look like a Dine from Shiprock.” “Shiprock?” “Yeh, you know, you guys from Shit Rock.” When they slowly started toward him he backed away. “I’m not from Shiprock. I don’t even know where that is,” he said. “Don’t know your own nation, brother?” “You’ve made a mistake. I’m not …
Memory Says
31 de octubre de 2013 • Roxzana Sudo
Nearly every year my husband remembers that we got married on October the 24, 1998. We did not. Stereotypes aside, I, as the woman, and hence the one with the better memory, know for a fact that it was October the 17th, 1998, as I did nearly everything for the wedding. This is not something to be proud of; it is my biggest indictment. And it was my biggest mistake on all cultural fronts—I will get to that. I remember …
A Hapa Girl In Vietnam
24 de octubre de 2013 • Tani Mitsui Brown
I’m currently carrying out a Fulbright English Teaching Fellowship in Northern Vietnam. When I sit down to meals with my students, they are always surprised at my skill with chopsticks. I try to explain to them in broken Vietnamese: cha tôi là người Mỹ gốc Phi, mẹ tôi là Mỹ gốc Nhật. My father is African-American. My mother is Japanese-American. I’ve been using chopsticks since the day I was born. This always draws a wide-eyed smile of exhilaration across my …
My Laborious, Glorious, and Ultimately Futile Self-Education
22 de octubre de 2013 • Nicholas Braun
Most Nikkei have the luxury of being brought up with the tradition of our fatherland. To be taught the meaning of Obon by your parents, a Buddhist priest, or both. To be read stories as a young child of a boy sprung up from peaches, tongueless sparrows. Or, if your parents were well read, to hear the fable of a young master from Tokyo known as Botchan bring a Machiavellian red shirted devil from the boondocks down with a well …