Hello BT'ers! I would like to introduce a new blog that deals with life in Japan from an Afro perspective, Loco in Yokohama. Here is a blurb on the writer:

I'm a New Yorker living in Japan...Yokohama is a long way from Brooklyn, and this blog is about that distance. I'm an English teacher and a writer and one angry Mofo sometimes. But in Japan you can never lose your sense of humor. Sanity requires it. I haven't lost it yet but I'm on the local to Loko. Hop on board, and don't be all passive and whatnot. 

Here is Loco's post, on envy and hate…: I know this may come as no surprise to many of you but it’s troublesome to me: Everything I am, do, say, or think is a reflection of the America in which I was raised, loved, educated and corrupted. The best of me is tainted by, the worst of me is uplifted by, and what I offer to the world is forged by this fact.It’s horrible not to love, honor, cherish, and respect the place that has had such a profound effect on the person you’ve become, the place you know as home. And that fact is never more abundantly clear then in a foreign land. Surrounded by natives who, however disenchanted they may be with their government, honor and respect their country and customs. Even the foreigners who come from the four corners of the English-speaking globe…. even they are, at the very least, respectfully tolerant of their own cultures and customs…I envy them. All of them! I remember when I was in Haiti, I had a similar experience amongst The Haitians…Here’s a people who have every reason to hate, as far as I’m concerned. But, you better believe their spirit, and an inexplicable joie de vive, was borne upon a pride in their unique history and culture. Even amid their dismal poverty I felt poorer.The other night, I had a prolonged conversation with a  Japanese friend of mine. She kept telling about how amazing her extended stay in London was…how great the civilization is there, how beautiful the architecture, art, history, culture was, etc… I was seething, of course, but I let her speak her piece without too many interruptions, chipping in my two yen every irresistible opportunity. Making little impotent stabs like, “But, do you know how that castle was financed?” or “Yeah, how civilized were they when they were slaughtering the Indians in India, or stringing the Chinese out on opium?” but thanks to the language barrier some of my uglier comments and judgments were misunderstood.Eventually I got around to espousing my account of the Dark history of America (one of my favorite topics) and the dismantling and systematic destruction of African culture, customs and traditions, and the subsequent formation of an African-influenced American Culture. It’s heart wrenching to recount. The terror I saw in her eyes I believed at first was a result of the horrific details in my soliloquy of the genocide and other atrocities committed against my ancestors by the civilized Europeans she was enamored with. But I would later learn that the look in her eyes was due to the change that had come over me as I reached deep into my inner rage and unleashed the beast that dwells there. The monster forged from all of the envy, jealousy, despair, shame, futility, loss, longing, anger…the list is long and ugly.  My beast is always there, like a faithful pet, an inner pit bull…I sic it on unsuspecting passersby. It has sharp teeth, a loud bark and a vicious growl…It goes for the juggler, for the kill! I just never really pay it much mind because it has many a comrade back home…most people have a beast much like mine. Some run the streets unleashed. Damaged spirits and minds abound…I keep it at bay with positive thoughts and healthy feelings, however forced they may be at times. I listen to some great positive thinkers like that guy on PBS, I read books about positive thinking, spiritual growth…I know it’s a useless pet…it serves no purpose except as a defense mechanism against further pain…and in the process chases love and good away.My friend told me she felt sorry for me…felt pity. Maybe that’s what the beast feeds on…pity. Self pity and pity from others.That’s part of the reason I left America. I associated this beast with America, of course. America had so many things for it to feed on. So much hate, so much anger…even the love is corrupted and tainted by despair and desperation…All my life has had a self-destructive theme to it. And as the good in me sought the good in the world, in my environment, it encountered so much that it found detestable.Love it or leave it, they say…so, I left. I come to this man’s land, Japan. It has problems…different problems, but the people have unity, respect, history, and many of the other aspects of a culture that is ancient and honorable. I like being around that type of energy…and though the beast in me is jealous and envious of it, and wants to tear it down sometimes for it somehow oppresses me beyond even the awareness of its wielders, but I still have hope that maybe being around this kind of energy will bear fruits that will benefit me as I grow.Yes, it’s true, I realize…Part of me wants to be like the Japanese…wants to be like the Chinese, wants to learn from any culture that has a tangible link with its history and was able to endure the onslaught of western tyranny with some semblance of integrity. Being of “African Descent” simply hasn’t done it for me, to date. Sometimes I feel like any link I try to make with Africa is for the most part superficial for the severance was thorough and irreversible. Even the Africans here in Japan, whom I initially loathed, are so enviable now.I don’t see them as same. Due to the poisoning of my soul, I believe, I see them as other.So, do I embrace the struggles and sorrows of my people’s efforts in America? Do I resign myself, and accept that I am an American, like it or not? Maybe…I’m still sorting these thoughts out…I mean, with the ascendancy of Barack Obama, I have a sense of hope that didn’t exist heretofore. And, perhaps for the first time, I’m actually beginning to know what pride in one’s country feels like. But, the healing has merely just begun.It’s ironic  that I came to the country where the worst terrorist attack in world history occurred, launched by the USA in 1945. The nuclear bombing of Hiroshima. Every year, on August 6th, on the news, there are lot’s of survivors and eyewitness accounts and file footage…innocent women and children caught up in this most gruesome example of human cruelty. To be associated with this atrocity is terrible. I am American: A product of a culture that can do such a thing, the only society that has done such a thing, and worse…and cheer and celebrate afterwards. It’s sickening.I’ve always been a big “fan” of WWII. Maybe this is a uniquely American thing. It’s interesting the psychology of the “victor” in war, but even more interesting living amidst the psychology that resulted from defeat and obliteration. So much died here after 1945…everybody I talk to, who would dare address my curiosities about modern Japan juxtaposed with ancient Japan, always mentions 1945 like we do 9/11, only much, much worse. Their country was occupied by the US the way Iraq is currently. And the Empire was no more. Thus was the beginning of the semblance of a puppet state or Asian colony of the US.And my role here: facing the progeny of the occupied and humiliated, and teaching them the language of the conquerers. The same conquerers that decimated my own ancestors. It’s a truly perverse reality to deal with sometimes.Yesterday, I committed a taboo with a private student: I discussed WWII. We’d had political discussions previously, and all of this hate talk in the US in association with the presidential race is stirring up such emotion in me that I couldn’t resist. He’s an older man, born in the ashes and rubble of WWII.He spoke about Japan frankly. More frank than anyone had spoken to me since my arrival here. He spoke of what the dropping of those atomic bombs, and the firebombing of Tokyo and other areas, did to his country and his people aside from the obvious physical destruction and the taking of thousands of lives. Japan was an empire up until that time and was hell bent on becoming an international power. It was the first nation (he said) to take on a white foreign power and win (Namely, Russia; Japan had beaten Russia in a war a few decades earlier) and had taken Taiwan, Korea and Manchuria (part of China) committing all kinds of atrocities along the way. The bad blood between Japan and these Asian nations is still pervasive here. I remember a couple of years ago Japan beat China in the Asian Cup Soccer match and the animosity between the two nearly erupted into all out violence and threatened China’s nomination as host of the Olympics. Most crime here is blamed on Koreans and Chinese (not to suggest the Chinese and Koreans are innocent, but it’s very reminiscent of how blacks are scapegoated for crime problems in America.)He spoke at length about these things as I sat there transfixed. He explained what Kamikaze means. Kami means “Divine” and Kaze means “Wind” and was initially used in reference to Kubla Khan who tried to invade Japan back in the 12th century with a force that would have surely been victorious but was stopped by a taifun (typhoon). Thus, Kamikaze…is the divine wind that protects Japan. Of course, it’s a popular drink in the US because we figured the Japanese had to be drunk to fly their planes on a suicide course into those ships in Pearl Harbor.Well, that divine wind did not blow the ships commanded by Commodore Perry (the man responsible for forcing the end of Japan’s isolation) or the planes carrying the nukes Fat man and Little boy to their respective targets in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. As he spoke I totally commiserated.He seemed to have mixed emotions about the bombings. Not that he felt it was a good thing, or even necessary. He didn’t. But he believed his country was on a dark course. It’s imperial ambitions in China are well known, and the treatment of the Koreans signified the nature of the people in power at the time. Although I believe that the US allowed the attack on Pearl Harbor to take place (in order to enter WWII, much the way 9/11 was allowed to placate the War on Terrorism, and the subsequent invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq) he seemed to blame the Japanese imperialists at the helm. He didn’t seem to harbor any hate, anger, distrust or animosity for America / Americans, at least none directed at me (though I wouldn’t have blamed him a lick if he did), but I’m still having some difficulty getting a read on people here so what do I know.For 45 minutes he talked and I listened, only speaking to gain clarification. By the time our lesson had ended, I was so enthralled I didn’t want to stop. But he had to leave. There was no conclusion, he could have gone on much longer, I’m sure, perhaps some other time we’ll have the opportunity to speak some more about this. I’d like that.Loco