Top 10 cities I visited

Even though we lived in Tokyo on and off during my early childhood years, it bears some significant memories for me. As a city, Tokyo is absolutely magnificent. It was – and continues to be to this day – the largest city in the world. It’s vibrant, innovative and light years ahead of many large metropolitan cities in the West. Yet it has, for the most part, held on to one of the world’s oldest and richest traditions founded in spirituality and morals.

That tradition was the foundation for some of the warmest people I’ve met. In spite of ‘catching up’ to western living standards, the Japanese didn’t compromise basic tenets of their culture. Such as respect for the elders, motherhood and family, education and faith. One thing intrigued me about the Japanese – in spite of fateful events such as Hiroshima, the people never lost hope. As a matter of fact, I marvelled at the fact that the Japanese ‘got back’ at the U.S. by practically bringing the American economy to its knees through its innovation and hard work. A modern day David and Goliath story, without a shed of blood or bullet fired I might add.

My childhood memory of Japan centres around discovering new things, both outside and within myself. For the first time I realized my talents in drawing and music, thanks to an abundance of Japanimation and a musically rich culture. I still remember laying my hands on my very first musical keyboard and playing an entire album by ear, without ever having taken a lesson. In spite of being teased that my keyboard was my first (and for a long time, the only) love, playing and creating music continues to be my greatest passion.

Being a child can be adventurous, and Tokyo was a great city to explore. Being only 8 years old and my brothers younger, we would wander off to the streets alone, make new friends, learn a new language, and master the Tokyo subway system – all without a care and fear of the world. I can assure you I can’t imagine doing half those things nowadays, being the ‘adult’ that I am.

The last year of our stay in Japan was spent mostly in the hospital, where my dad underwent chemotherapy for his cancer treatment. The love and support from everyone when he died was truly humbling, and made our pain a little bearable. I remember the doctor frantically pumping my dad’s chest, squeezing out his last breath until the flat-line. Then, with a face carrying both sadness and respect, he slowly moved away and humbly bowed his head towards my entire family. I learned that in spite of the most sophisticated and state-of-the-art cancer hospital and its renowned staff, humans are only as effective as God’s plan dictates. The time had come to close that chapter of our lives, as a new life lay ahead of us. I, the eldest of 3 sons, was only 14.