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  • Action for Economic Reforms

A “FILIPINO” SUSHI BAR IN TOKYO AND THE “CONQUEST” OF MT. EVEREST

The author is a visiting scholar of Waseda University and associate professor (on sabbatical leave) at De La Salle University. This piece was published in the Yellow Pad column of Business World, 26 April 2004 edition.


Now and then, amidst widespread defeatism and cynicism, stories of

admirable Filipinos crop up. The indomitable Filipino spirit is found

in those who choose to demonstrate certain human qualities and defy the

odds wherever they are. Most of the time, the odds are

socially-embedded constraints, structures that limit opportunity and

achievement. Whether they come from the elite or lower social strata,

individuals are usually powerless against such limiting structures.


Many have responded by migrating without losing their love for country.

Others quit their jobs, not for lack of trying but to find a greater

sense of fulfillment elsewhere.


Near my apartment in Waseda, there’s a famous sushi bar. Its fame

derives from its owner (okami-san) being a Filipina and which serves

excellent sushi in the traditional Japanese fashion. The Yanagawa sushi

bar has regular customers from Waseda University, the nearby government

ward offices and publication companies, and others from farther places.

I was introduced to the sushi bar by a Waseda University professor.


“Come,” he said, “let’s go to the sushi-bar owned by a Filipino

mama-san.” Not a few famous Filipinos visiting Tokyo have gone to the

place.


Born the second of thirteen children, Marie “Mayang” Nihei (nee

Bernabe) left Cabanatuan, Nueva Ecija in 1980 after graduating from

high school. An aunt had encouraged her to become a cultural dancer

like herself. Marie had other options like staying with another aunt in

London and continuing studies there. She chose Japan to help her

family, and was four out of 150 applicants who made it to a Tokyo-bound

cultural dance troupe.


She landed in Shinjuku and danced the tinikling and other folk dances

for the contracted four months. Marie returned to Cabanatuan with

20,000 pesos in savings, which was principally used to improve the

family house. Then, about a year later, she returned to Shinjuku. This

time, Marie worked as a solo singer. Her voice wasn’t good, she said,

but the merry Japanese enjoyed it when anyone sang enka (or Japanese

songs).


In Shinjuku, Marie met her future husband, who was 10 years her senior.

Tabo, as he’s called, fell in love with her and she with him. They got

married soon and had two children, Maiko and Seiichi. Tabo was the only

son of a tuna broker in Tsukiji, the famous Tokyo fish market.


For about ten years, Marie centered her life on family. She never

complained and lovingly worked the chores. She cleaned the house, did

the laundry, and took care of the children, her husband, and in-laws.


These were chores that daily occupied her until midnight. The day

usually started early since the adults had to wake up at 4:30 in the

morning and go to the fish market. Marie learned how to properly clean

the house when, as a student, she stayed with her aunts and uncles.

They were university professors in Nueva Ecija. She saw how the maids

did the general cleaning—from the ceiling down to the floor. This was a

valuable experience for her, living with the in-laws and all. She

admitted that she was fortunate to have stayed for sometime with her

aunts.


Like most Japanese and Filipinos, Marie lived simply, was polite and

humble. She was also personable, caring, and responsible. These were

qualities that immediately endeared her to everybody in the household

and eventually gained her respect in the community. When the children

went to school, Marie met and became friends with the other Japanese

mothers. She was not afraid to approach people and ask. In turn, her

fellow mothers willingly taught her things that she wanted to learn.


Marie endeavored to know many things about Japan, including the

language, how to cook Japanese food, and other aspects of culture.

After all, she decided to focus her life on family and stay in Japan.


But life has its ups and downs. Her father was killed a few years

later. Not long after, her son, Seiichi, was diagnosed with a rare

sarcoma. The doctors in the hospital thought that the boy would not

last the year. Marie refused to believe this and asked her husband to

bring their son elsewhere. If needed, they would sell their possessions

to pay for the hospital bill. Near Tsukiji, they found a hospital that

specialized in cancer. For three years, the boy was confined there and

underwent chemotherapy and other treatments. Finally, the boy received

a successful bone marrow transplant that made the condition benign.

Seiichi is now in college.


Those years of ordeal gave Marie Nihei the determination to work extra

hard and succeed (in her words, ganbaru). A year after Seiichi’s

successful operation, Marie and Tabo opened the Yanagawa sushi bar.

Tabo’s parents liked the idea and supported them with capital and fresh

fish coming from Tsukiji. In the winter of 1993, Marie biked through

the biting cold wind in order to distribute hundreds of promotional

leaflets to households, companies, and government offices in the

neighborhood. The sushi bar was a hit since opening day.


Marie said that the key to continued patronage was pakikipag-kapwa tao.

The sushi chef and staff were treated like family. She was not timid

and got to know her customers, who became regular patrons. The select

fresh fish from Tsukiji was excellent. Through word of mouth, more

patrons came, including foreigners who saw comfort in a sushi bar owner

who could speak in English. It was not uncommon for foreigners billeted

at the nearby Waseda Rihga Royal Hotel to drop by.


At the sushi bar, Marie did all kinds of work. She cleaned the place,

washed the dishes, waited on customers, prepared tea and miso soup, and

even cut fish. She had to learn how to use the formal Japanese terms

and language expected in a Japanese sushi-bar.


Marie recounted how fifteen Japanese volunteered their blood to save

her son in the hospital. In 1996, she decided that it was time to pay

it forward. Through a Philippine contact, she helped the Nueva Ecija

voluntary blood donation campaign, which became an ongoing social work.

Material donations were sent from Japan to help create awareness among

potential blood donors. Through her, tokens from Japan such as radios

and hearing aids were given to blood donors.


She began by posting a sign inside her sushi restaurant. The sign asked

for donations of all kinds for the blood program. To her surprise, many

customers later brought bags of material donations. Then, one day, the

Japanese broadcast media interviewed her for being the Filipino owner

of a sushi-bar in the heart of Tokyo. During that interview which was

shown on TV, Marie plugged a plea for non-financial material donations

for the Nueva Ecija program. Since then, people and NGOs from all over

Japan responded by sending towels, dentures, hearing aids, transistor

radios, computers, etc. She used her savings from the sushi bar for

shipping these items and other expenses.


During her spare time from family and business, Marie goes to the gym

and involves herself in a number of other activities. She is the

current president of Teatro Kanto, a theatrical arts group performing

in Japan. She is a reporter of the DWNE radio station and a member of

the Japanese Filipino Golfers’ Association. She has received awards

abroad and in Nueva Ecjia.


Marie and others have found that in some foreign countries

opportunities abound for personal fulfillment. They have conquered

their initial limitations. By their example, they are able to counter

the sliding international image of Filipino qualities. For sure, there

are also limiting structures abroad but these structures could be

overcome if one worked hard and made the right decisions. Many Filipino

migrants are not able to successfully integrate in their host

countries. Their attitudes towards learning the local language and

adopting the culture have been obstacles to effective social

integration. Their timidity has frustrated successful interaction with

locals. As such, they find themselves increasingly marginalized and

discriminated.


Back in the Philippines, mass migration goes on because of strong

economic disincentives and scarce opportunities. In government, the

service could be frustrating to many because hopes of creating a better

government are blocked by people constituting a system that profits

from it. (The System is not exclusive to any one presidential

administration and its eradication is a primary challenge to collective

action.)


Recently, a Philippine government official has announced his intention

of quitting his post soon. He wants to uplift the Filipino spirit

elsewhere by joining the first national team to climb Mt. Everest.


Indeed, to conquer the Earth’s highest summit entails risk of life and

limb. Once more, we become aware of the indomitable Filipino spirit in

the search for national glory. Will the Mt. Everest team encounter

limiting structures? Hopefully not. The team deserves the country’s

support and prayer.

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