For my upcoming book release, I'll be reflecting on some of the people, places and events that helped shape the most adventurous and fulfilling period of my life.
It all started on February 18, 1991; the day before I darted off to Osaka. After a manic last few days, I found myself mysteriously standing in front of ESOWAN Bookstore on Western Avenue, on the South side of L.A.
I’d been frantically dashing about town, yet couldn’t resist the nagging and uncontrollable urge to stop by this landmark location. For the devil in me, I didn’t understand why.
I meticulously poked through the isles, book displays and colorful motifs, yet nothing Earth-shattering jumped out. The clock on the wall said it was high time to dash.
While copping some knick-knacks and easing my way out the door, the shopkeeper’s inquisitive nature compelled me to disclose the life-changing journey I was about to embark.
“Hold on a minute” said the elderly woman ever so gently. “There’s another curious traveler; a female; who occasionally passes through here from abroad”. She then beckoned her husband to scrounge around for her particulars somewhere in the back.
"Could it be?” I thought it myself. “Nah. The world is an awfully big place… and besides, I'm reeeaaaaallly in a hurry."
I could hear the old man rumbling about the boxes and rifling through files as I wondered to myself, “Is this really necessary?”
Before I knew it, his shiny bald head promptly and dutifully emerged from the back room area where he smiled and handed me a white, generic looking name card with a smooth and neatly printed surface that read: "Jinan Le Deux, Professor of English, Osaka, Japan".
A mystical sensation of serendipity quickly engulfed me – not to mention a sudden feeling of nausea – and disbelief.
Coincidence?
Certainly many would argue the point - and rightfully so; yet there I stood so eerily dumbstruck – and humbled - by the omnipotent powers that clearly were in charge of my life that fateful day in February, 1991.
In Osaka, Haruko-san, the lady who invited me to Japan – and my airport pickup - turned out to be less intuitive however; without a car, a clue nor the foggiest idea of where I might stay. Stranded at Osaka airport, I sent a distress call to Ms Le Deux who guided me to the location of an obscure, yet suitable youth hostel on the outskirts of town.
Quite naturally, time, energy and the inevitable awkwardness of stumbling around a new culture took its course. Jinan and I would meet but not before a series of phone tags led me to a telephone conversation with a friend of a friend of hers, Mr. Yoshida, who would eventually offer me my first job in the country; a teaching gig at a notable community college.
When I told Jinan the good news, there was an unusual, prolonged silence before she finally responded with: “You don’t… KNOW… how… lucky… you… ARE…”
Hmmm. She was right.
Plum teaching jobs like that did not grow on trees: 12 teaching hours per week; $ 4,000 month with 3 months paid vacation per contract year. In short, the best introduction to Japan one could aspire.
Many of the graduating students later became my 'private students"; an embryo which ultimately helped launch a successful chain of language schools that I opened several years later called, Wisdom21.
Over the ensuring years, Jinan, who arrived in NIPPON a decade beforehand, served as my mentor, advisor and close confidant.
I’ll never forget that fateful day when she stopped by my office to return some videos she had borrowed. With the engine still running, she parked her car right in front of the building and rang me to come outside.
As I trotted downstairs and approached her car, as usual, she was flashing that radiant, electric smile. I could see from her face, though, she had lost a considerable amount of weight.
The first thing she said was "Hey.. thanks for the videos. I really liked them. By the way, the doctor found Cancer and gives me three months to live! Can you believe it? I've got three months to live!!!! He told me to start wrapping up my affairs - so here are your videos!”
She then gleefully drove off while I remained standing there in front of the building with my mouth hanging wide open, never managing to utter a sound.
Jinan, from Los Angeles, actually held on for close to NINE months. Her closest friends and I did what little we could to comfort her in her final months, weeks and days.
The day before she passed away, I, and many others, held vigil at her hospital bedside. “Keep talking” she whispered, as she insisted that the mood remain lively and celebratory; and she still managed to flash that ridiculously lovely smile up until the bitter sweat end.
Putting her in that hot furnace was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do - and I wept uncontrollably that day - and many times since.
Jinan Le Deux passed away Oct. 31, 2006 in Osaka, Japan. She was 55.
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