Author: thomasgreencomposer

Japanese scenery streams past in the blink of an eye, as I write this from the Shinkansen (a high-speed train).  I’ve come back to Japan after such a long time.  Like the scene flashing past the train window, these last three days have sped by, and I’ve seen friends I’ve missed for so long.  My brother, his family, and old friends from my time in high school and language school. Sightseeing and shopping round out the experience (shopping in Japan is very important when you live abroad; you can’t get such well-priced reading glasses and cosmetics in Australia). 

今、北陸新幹線の中から書いている。東京に、いや日本には久しぶりに1人で帰ってきた。久しぶりの友達や兄家族の再会、観光や必要な買い物（メガネや、日本でか買えない化粧品など）をしてあっという間の三日間だった。帰国してやはり思うことは、日本人で日本語は話せるけれども、心はオーストラリア人ですね。もうすでに少しブリスベン生活が恋しい。東京は人の多さにも驚いたが、みんなクタクタになるまで働いてるのがヒシヒシと感じる。こんなに働いてこの人達は幸せなのだろうか。

I hesitated for a year, or maybe even longer, before deciding to go to Australia.  Back in the early 2000s I was a student in the Faculty of Education at Kanazawa University.  I wanted to be a teacher because I liked the idea of bossing students around. After completing my education degree, I could have chosen to take a teacher registration exam. But by that time, I had decided in my heart to follow a different path.  In my core, I knew I needed to play.  I had to build my world accordingly.  It was at this time, in Kanazawa, that I met my amazing percussion mentor, Tom O’Kelly. Tom is a well-known percussionist, he was a principal timpanist in Orchestra Ensemble Kanazawa for many years, played as a soloist with many orchestras, and these days owns the biggest percussion shop in Brisbane.  Tom helped me to make my mind up:  In 2003 I would travel to Brisbane, Australia, to study percussion at the Queensland Conservatorium.

It was not easy.  My compulsory English education from Japan turned out to be the most meagre preparation for life in an English-speaking country.  I felt like I couldn’t speak or understand it at all.  This crushed me.  My pride was completely shattered.  Few people knew how I felt.  I managed to conquer this ordeal by practicing.  Day after day, I practiced until the Conservatorium closed at midnight.  Performing, and learning about performing, with an intensive practice regime was my essence.  I learned the joy of it.  The love of performance kept me strong.  My English improved slower than it might have, as every waking moment was dedicated to playing.

私がオーストラリアに行くと決めたのは2002年ごろ。一年かけて、いやもっと長かったかもしれない、とにかく長い間オーストラリアに行こうかどうか迷った。私はその頃国立大学で教育学部の学生の身。偉そうにするのが好きで学校の教師になりたかったのだが、いざ学校の教師になれそうになると（いや、教員試験はすごく厳しくてそれには手を出してない）やはり自分はどれだけ音楽が好きか、演奏するのが好きかを心の底から感じるようになり、それができる環境にいかに行こうか熟慮してみた。その時にブリスベンの今では大きな打楽器専門店のオーナーであり、私の師匠であるトム　オケーリー先生と金沢で出会い、ブリスベンでの勉強の道を薦めてくださり、迷いに迷ってブリスベンに行くことにしたのが2003年。

英語は義務教育で習ったものの全然話せず聞けず、犬以下の気持ちになりながら、一生懸命語学学校に通って、英語の大学に入るための試験勉強も必死でして、何度も失敗したりした。その後、なんとか無事にクイーンズランド音楽院にて打楽器演奏の勉強ができることになる。毎日大学が夜閉まるまでずっと練習して、演奏するのことの楽しさを実感しながら学生時代を過ごした。英語は楽器の練習しすぎで、あまり人と話すことなくあまり上達はしなかったけど、演奏に関してはたくさん学べた。

Not everyone thought my decision to travel to Australia was sensible, and I got the impression they believed I’d be safer in Japan.  They didn’t understand this urge, and having an adventure was a risky choice.  On the other hand, I had some encouragement from trusting people who seemed to understand that risk may be rewarded, and living in a new country offers unique experiences that not everyone anticipates.  I am forever grateful for those people who encouraged me, because moving to Australia was the best thing I could have done.  In English, I am freed from honorifics, and everyone speaks with equality. It’s as if a big wall is removed.  But more importantly, it made me a resourceful person.  I developed my mind, I became wiser, and I started to live my own way.  In Australia at the age of 23 it was like I was beginning again, as a baby.  That makes me a nineteen-year-old in 2023!

During my first years in Australia I often felt uneasy and frequently considered returning to Japan.  What changed is that I made friends, and these were deep connections.  In time, I got married and began a family.  Brisbane is my place now. 

オーストラリアに来ると決めたとき、やはり安全に国内での勉強の方がいいのでは、と言う人もいたし、日本では音楽留学をオーストラリアでするというと、オーストリアと聞き間違えたかと言われるほど、みんなには理解されないことも多々あった。だけど、やはり海外がいい、海外に行っていろいろと学んできた方がいいと言って後押ししてくれた大人たちも多数いて、若くて何も自分で決めれず、殻に閉じこもり気味の私をそんな大人たちは心から応援してくれた。今ではその頃応援してくださった方々に心から感謝。あの選択は間違いではなかった。英語によって、敬語から解放されて、皆平等に話せて、大きな壁がひとつ取れ、それに加えて、「人に並べ、出る杭は打たれる」と教わった日本の義務教育と違い、オーストラリアで初めて自らの頭と知恵を使いながら自分なりの生き方を始めた。だから23歳でまた赤ちゃんからやり直した気分。だから今はまだ19歳。慣れて居心地の良い壁を自ら覚悟して蹴り破り進んだ道は、最初は不安でなんども帰りたくなったけど、長い年月をかけ、だんだんと絆の深い友達、そして自分の家族もでき、今では、ブリスベンが私の故郷。守護霊バンドのトム　グリーンとの出会いは、よりこの故郷への絆を深めた。

A friend from high school died last night.  On arriving in Japan I had tried to contact her; she usually responds so quickly, but this time she was silent, and I immediately became worried.  She was suffering from advanced, terminal cancer. But I felt extremely lucky I was able to say goodbye at the wake even though my stay in Kanazawa was so short.

She was in the brass band in high school and was that person who never stopped smiling.  During my undergrad, I was tutoring percussion at the school (and remained there until I moved to Australia). She was back at the school, registered, teaching ancient Japanese language. Her eyes still smiled and sparkled, and her gift of smiling was now woven into her teaching.  Later, with the advanced cancer she could no longer fill this most treasured role, as her body became gradually weaker.  She wanted to live.  That battle is over now.  She was so full of smiles. She wouldn’t be happy to see everyone cry, so I’ll keep smiling for her. But it’s always hard to face death.

高校の時の友達が昨夜亡くなった。彼女に実家帰りしてから連絡をとってみたが、いつもは返事が速いのになかなか来ない。嫌な予感はしていた。進行性の癌だった。私がこちらにいるのは短い期間にも関わらず、お通夜でお別れを言えるのは奇跡的である、そこに感謝。

彼女は高校時代吹奏楽部で一緒だった。いつも笑顔が絶えない子だった。そこの吹奏楽部の打楽器を教えに大学終わった頃もいつも行ってきたが、その子は高校教諭として戻っていた。目をキラキラさせながらテキパキと先生をする姿も見た。そんな彼女は進行性癌のせいで、好きな教職もできなくなり、身体もどんどん蝕まれ、今までのようにできない葛藤と戦っていた。そして、とにかく生きたい、と言っていた。闘病も終わり、ついに人生が終わった。笑顔でいっぱいだった彼女はきっとみんながシクシク泣くのは見たくないだろうと、なるべく笑顔でいたいけど、やはり死に直面するのは辛い。

What would my life have been like, had I decided to stay in Japan?  I recall now how clueless I was in Brisbane.  I sat in the English classes at a language school, barely understanding a single word.  My rudimentary skills acquired in Japan meant that I was plunked into the middle range when I really wanted to be placed at the beginner level.  That’s how it was for me, starting off in this new place.  The IELTS test is an English test you need to do to enter university in Australia.  I failed it over and over again, until I finally scraped through and entered graduate studies.  I’ve lost track of how many times I needed to renew my Visa!

Throughout my academic career, I fostered a dream of playing in a professional orchestra.  If you work hard enough, dreams have a way of coming true, and eventually I found myself with a pro orchestral gig.  At first I thought, “this is it”, but life has a way of presenting new challenges at every step.  Sure, to start with I had a lot of work, and this certainly helped financially, but the reality is, sessional work for a musician is sporadic.  Sometimes, it dried up altogether. 

And even when I was gigging there were problems.  I was told I must play in a very particular fashion, and when I didn’t the leader of our section would stare me down with a horrible look.  The atmosphere in the orchestra made me distrustful. In time, I found myself looking for another job outside of music or wanting to return to my parents back in Japan.  I had dedicated my life to this, and now found myself needing to get out.  Needless to say, this was a difficult time for me mentally.  Writing this now, in Japan, I recall that there was a time, in Australia, when I lived in despair.  Even with a good husband (Nick) and beautiful children, and despite years of dedication as a musician, I blamed myself for everything; for being useless.  And, somehow, I kept going.  I put the orchestra behind me; it turns out that I’m a strong person, and I’ve been able to forge a productive musical journey as an independent musician.

It must have been during that dark period that I met Tom (the other part of Shugorei).  The funny thing is that we crossed paths decades before we were friends, as I was playing his compositions long before we had spoken much.  Much later, on another occasion when I played his music, we came to chat and finally became friends [Tom interjecting: it’s almost impossible to meet Noz and not want to be friends with her].  By and by, Shugorei came to be.  When I tell my Japanese friends that Shugorei is the name of the music group, they always say, “what?  Guardian Spirit?  The spirit that protects you?” [Tom interjecting:  there’s a curious aspect of the translation here, because in English, both the sound of the word Shugorei, as well as the concept of it, feels cool, whereas in Japanese I’ve come to understand there’s a kind of spooky characteristic to it, which Noz was initially worried might put people off, but she seems to have come to like it, in spite of curious reactions].  I like the name now, very much, because it occurs to me that what we have is, in a way, sacred.  We made our own magic, just by using that word.  The word itself brought the Guardian Spirit to us.  I’ll always be grateful for that.