Heading Home — New York Stay, Day 13

 At the end of last year, I abruptly announced that I would be taking a break from my blog and then closed it without much explanation.
The reason was simple: I was going to be away from home for a while, and it felt wiser to stay quiet.
Now that I am finally heading back to Japan, I feel it is safe enough to share the last moments of this journey.

Last night, as I looked out at the city lights, I realized it would be the last time—at least for now.
That thought made the view feel especially profound.

I had felt slightly feverish, but by morning my temperature was back to normal.
The sore throat and cough had also eased considerably.

I managed to call an Uber to JFK on my own without any trouble.
The driver was a sincere-looking young man who told me he had come from Nepal and had been living in New York for four years.
It must be incredibly hard to make a life in a place like this, yet he seemed to be doing his best.
He also said he had many friends in Japan.

“Japan is safe,” he told me.
“New York is dangerous.”

Staying in New York long-term would surely be exhausting, yet I cannot say I never want to return.
Still, that feeling probably exists only because I am on the plane right now.
Once I breathe the familiar air of Japan again, I suspect New York will quickly fade from my mind.

I may be a little too old now to broaden my horizons as much as I once hoped.
But at last, I was able to set foot on the land where I was born.
That alone allowed me to bring a long-unresolved chapter of my life to a close.

This journey was one in which I was able to complete something profoundly important to me.

 

 

The Final Day, Feeling Unwell — New York Stay, Day 12

 On the day before our return to Japan, I woke up feeling feverish.
Rather than letting it worsen, I decided to rest and take care of myself.
From the room, familiar landmarks of New York were still quietly in view.

Just as we were about to head home, I woke up feeling uncomfortably warm.
Before things could get worse, I chose to rest and recuperate.

Looking out from the room, I could see both the Empire State Building and the newer tourist attraction, Edge.
All things considered, it was not such a bad place to take it easy.

At lunchtime, we ate at a restaurant near Central Park.
Seeing my daughter arrive with her employee badge hanging from her neck, I felt quietly reassured—she must be doing her job properly and steadily.

The television was filled with news about Venezuela.
My English is not good enough to fully grasp the details, but the commentators seemed careful not to offer strong opinions.

From an objective standpoint, one could argue that in a dictatorship where so many citizens have fled the country, the emergence of someone worthy of the Nobel Peace Prize suggests an extraordinary situation—one in which a helping hand was extended amid chaos.

That said, had there been no oil, the world might not have paid much attention at all.
It is a complicated story.

It was startling to think that somewhere in this vast city, such a person might be detained.
Yet New York itself seemed entirely indifferent.

With the New Year holidays over, the city had returned to its usual calm.
In restaurants, women who were clearly affluent chatted cheerfully, as if none of this had anything to do with them.

 

Back in the room, I lay down and slept deeply.
When I woke up, the fever had gone down.

A great relief.
Tonight, I plan to sleep well again.

Skyscrapers and Souvenirs — New York Stay, Day 11

 New York’s clusters of tall buildings are often described as skyscrapers—a word that once felt synonymous with the city itself.
Yet today, even Tokyo is dotted with towers rising one after another. Still, from my daughter’s apartment, one unmistakable symbol of New York remains in view.

New York’s buildings are called skyscrapers.
The word refers to structures so tall they seem to reach the heavens—what we now call super-high-rise buildings.

They were once a defining symbol of New York, but today tall buildings are springing up everywhere, even in Tokyo.
From my daughter’s apartment, however, I could see one of the city’s most iconic examples: the Empire State Building.

As many of you know, I made it a habit during this stay to take the same photograph of it every morning.

 

Another tall building was also visible: Edge, a relatively new addition to the skyline.

At my wife’s request—we wanted to go up at least one observation deck during this stay—we visited Edge, which was built as part of the Hudson Yards redevelopment project.

I am claustrophobic, but not afraid of heights, so the ascent itself posed no problem.
That said, at more than 350 meters above ground, it was undeniably cold.

 

As I was feeling slightly unwell, I left the morning souvenir shopping to my wife and daughter.

Choosing souvenirs is always a dilemma: how far should one go, and for whom?
On top of that, anything remotely decent is astonishingly expensive.

When I casually suggested that M&M’s chocolates would be good enough, my wife looked at me in disbelief.
Apparently, at that level, it would be better to bring nothing at all.

In any case, once the souvenirs were finally sorted, I felt a sense of relief.
Tomorrow is packing day.

Trying to Find What’s Good About New York — New York Stay, Day 10

During dinner, my daughter asked me a simple question:
“What was good about coming to New York this time?”

Of course, the best thing was seeing her.
Being able to visit New York for the first time, and spending time together as a family of three, mattered just as much.

Later that night, as I lay in bed, my thoughts turned to New York itself—
the most famous city in the world.

As I tried to fall asleep, I began to wonder what was truly good about New York.

Finding faults would have been easy.
Finding virtues was not.

Was it because I’ve grown more conservative with age?
Or was there another reason?

That doesn’t mean I wanted to compare New York with Japan or Tokyo.
There are countless things Japan does better—but New York, too, has its own strengths.

The first is its openness.
New York accepts everyone.

In this melting pot, there are people of every kind imaginable.
Beauty and ugliness seem irrelevant here.
Americans, people of African descent, people from Asia—faces upon faces upon faces.
In that crowd, I felt a quiet pride in my own East Asian, Japanese face.

The second is how compact the city feels.

I haven’t seen all of it—only as far north as the middle of Central Park, mostly in the southern half of Manhattan.
Even so, what struck me was how places of extreme wealth stand just steps away from neighborhoods where safety feels uncertain.

One could simply call it inequality.
And indeed, the contrast is unmistakable.

As a tourist, I can walk almost anywhere without much concern.
But ride the subway just a few stops, and the people around you change completely.
It’s not a matter of which place is better or worse—
only a question of where one would choose to belong.

Naturally, there is an abundance of things.
More than enough—perhaps far more than necessary—are consumed, traded, and discarded every day.
If you have money, you can obtain almost anything.

On the menu of a stylish restaurant, wines under one hundred dollars sit calmly beside Romanée-Conti.
For concerts and musicals alike, moving just a little farther away can mean a difference of a hundred dollars.

For those who are eager to push themselves forward,
this may not be a bad place.

But for those who are not—
New York can be a difficult city.

 

In New York, you hear sirens constantly, and they usually belong to NYPD patrol cars.

The NYPD plays a vital role in maintaining public safety, and on the side of each patrol car are the words Courtesy, Professionalism, and Respect. These words reflect a strong sense of responsibility toward the citizens they serve.

Even in a place where gun-related homicides are an everyday reality, the police seem to function as a familiar and approachable presence in the community.

 

 

Striving to Be a Better Japanese Person — New York Stay, Day 9

 During the year-end countdown broadcast from Times Square, reporters interviewed people who had gathered to welcome the New Year.
Listening to their answers, I was struck by how universal human wishes truly are—no matter where we live.

During the year-end broadcast of the Times Square countdown, reporters were interviewing people who had gathered there.

Just as in Japan, when interviewers asked, “What kind of year do you hope it will be?”, people spoke of modest yet essential wishes—health, peace, success in their studies.

Human wishes are the same, East or West.

My own wishes are not very different from theirs: to stay healthy, to see a peaceful world, and to have my work go well—something that ultimately leads to the well-being of my patients.

There are, of course, more specific hopes.
But at this stage of life, I already know what needs to be done to achieve most of them.
As long as I continue making the effort to act accordingly, they are within reach.
In the end, it all comes back to one thing: maintaining both physical and mental health.

This year, I turn 63.

Some time has passed since I reached the age traditionally described as the time when one truly learns to listen. Only now do I feel that I am beginning, little by little, to understand what others are really trying to say.

Immersed in the noise and chaos of New York, this realization becomes even clearer.

Being swept up in a world where an extraordinary diversity of people move freely and independently, I cannot help but feel that human entropy is truly limitless, never coming to a stop.

If that is the case, then trying to place restraints on human behavior is, from the outset, an impossible task.

Seen from this perspective, I am reminded of just how restrained and self-controlled the Japanese way of life truly is.

I am grateful to have been raised as a Japanese person, and as one, I hope to continue growing—still and always, until the very end of my life.

 

 

 

The Happiest New Year of My Life — New York Stay, Day 8

 The year 2026 has begun.
Spending the New Year in New York with my wife and daughter, I find myself feeling a quiet happiness unlike any I have known before.

 

The year 2026 has begun.
It will no doubt bring many things, as every year does, but above all, I hope to get through it in good health.

During this year-end and New Year holiday, I took a slightly longer winter break and am staying in New York with my wife, where our daughter is working.

New York is not a particularly beautiful city.
It is noisy, crowded, and often exhausting.
I sometimes find myself wishing it were more like Tokyo—cleaner, quieter, and more orderly—where even large crowds feel less tiring because people are generally considerate.
Perhaps this is simply what it means when the place changes.

I am spending these days with my wife and my daughter—two women who love me.
Having no enemies around is, in itself, a remarkably stress-free situation.

Of course, work-related emails arrive even at the very beginning of the year, and in my dreams, various troubles still appear.
A completely carefree state is impossible.

And yet, this New Year feels like the happiest I have experienced in my life.

This travel journal has reached its halfway point.
The end is now faintly in sight.
Everything comes to an end eventually.

For the remaining days, I want to spend my time peacefully and happily with my wife and daughter.

At the End of 2025 — New Year’s Eve in New York NY Stay, Day 7

As 2025 quietly comes to an end, I find myself in New York, reflecting on the year that has passed and the decades behind it. Time moves strangely when you stand between calendars and continents.

 

This year, I am welcoming the New Year in New York.
The last time I spent the New Year abroad was in 2001, when our family welcomed the new year in Hawaii. That was twenty-five years ago.

On television, the countdown at Times Square fills the screen.
It is very close to where we are staying, yet the crowds are overwhelming, so we decided not to go near it.

Twenty-five years ago, I was in my thirties and full of energy.
Time has passed in what feels like an instant.

During these years, my children have grown well, and I have been fortunate enough to continue my work. For that, I feel deeply grateful.

The year 2025 began with a major earthquake in Noto.
In the United States, Donald Trump began his second term as president. His tariffs were expected to cause global turmoil, but for now, the world seems to be finding a fragile balance.

In February, I managed to hold an academic meeting successfully. The first half of the year was demanding, filled with writing and lectures.
The progress of AI has been remarkable, and before I realized it, I had come to rely on it more than I ever imagined.

Moving my blog was another major event. Spending nearly an hour every day writing, it has become an important part of my life, and I am relieved that I have been able to start a new daily routine smoothly on Hatena Blog.

Ann turned one this year and experienced her first heat. I am slowly getting used to caring for a female dog, but this was certainly challenging.

In the summer House of Councillors election, the ruling party lost its majority, and Japan welcomed its first female prime minister.

I had planned to visit New York at the end of summer to see my daughter, but my brother’s condition worsened, and we postponed the trip, hoping that the year-end would be calmer.
He passed away in December.

The autumn of 2025 was unsettled and heavy because of him.

In Japan, 2026 has already begun.
The calendar works in strange ways, but for a little while longer, I will stay with my thoughts in 2025.

 

 

Here and There, Even Though Comparison No Longer Makes Sense — New York Stay, Day 6

 At the end of the year, New York was overflowing with people—much like Tokyo, or perhaps anywhere in the world.
Spending several days here made me reflect on what abundance and cultural value really mean in our time.

 

At the end of the year, New York was as crowded as Tokyo—no, probably like any major city in the world.

The contrast with the usually quiet area around my daughter’s workplace was so striking that even she seemed surprised.

 

The Museum of Modern Art was also overwhelmingly crowded, leaving little room to slowly appreciate its most famous works.
Still, spending time with paintings for the first time in a while brought a sense of calm.

After several days in New York, I found myself realizing just how rich and comfortable Tokyo truly is.

 

The area around Fifth Avenue feels much like Ginza.
Shops selling everyday goods and pet supplies offer products that are not very different from those in Japan.
In terms of overall design and refinement, some ordinary Japanese shopping centers might even surpass what is found here.

Of course, in an age when almost anything can be purchased online, there may be little point in arguing which country is better.

That said, with so many people gathering from all over the world, New York still seems to hold an edge as a global center of consumer culture.
In places like SoHo, you occasionally come across a shop that makes you think, quite simply, this is really good—and that is something New York does exceptionally well.

On the other hand, Japan has its traditional crafts.
This is an area where comparison itself no longer makes much sense.

 

Already Tired Before the Jet Lag Fades — New York Stay, Day 5

 Five days into my stay in New York, the jet lag still lingers.
Before my body can adjust, fatigue quietly settles in.

 

It was my fifth day in New York.
It rained from the morning, but the temperature was around 7°C—hard to believe after the recent heavy snow.
The weather was actually ideal for sightseeing, yet a sudden wave of drowsiness hit me.

I woke up around 3 a.m. and drifted in and out of sleep after that.
Perhaps that was part of the problem, but I accepted it as jet lag.
After seeing my daughter off to work, I spent the rest of the morning completely drained.

Before the jet lag fades, I am already tired.
Work emails arrive relentlessly, but my mind refuses to function properly.
I feel as though I could manage proofreading a pathology book, yet even the motivation for that does not come.
And before I know it, it is already the 29th.

 

After Christmas, the city is now preparing for the New Year.
Unlike Japan, where Christmas disappears overnight, the Christmas mood still lingers here.
Sometimes I wish Japan would celebrate Christmas and New Year together, but perhaps it is not so simple, given the different commercial rhythms behind them.

When the rain stopped, my wife and I went to Central Park.

I am slowly getting used to the subway, though the driving remains rough—without holding onto the handrails, you might be thrown off balance.
As evening came, the wind grew stronger.
After dinner with our daughter on her way home from work, we returned.
Time passes quickly.

 

The Absence of Animals in Religion — New York Stay, Day 4

 On a Sunday in New York, my daughter took me to a nearby church to listen to gospel music.
What began as a cultural experience quietly turned into a reflection on how differently religions view life—and animals.

 

Today is Sunday.
My daughter took me to a nearby church where we could listen to gospel music.

Snow from yesterday still covered the ground, and a beautifully decorated Christmas tree stood inside.

Although it was called a church, the building appeared to have once been a theater.
As we entered, gospel music had already begun, accompanied by a live band.
We followed the subtitles and sang along with everyone else, raising our voices together.

After the singing came the sermon.

Christian sermons are difficult to fully grasp without some basic knowledge of Christianity.
Still, I listened carefully, reading the subtitles as they appeared.

At one point, I suddenly became aware of a difference in how animals are perceived.

Or rather, I realized that the Bible is, at its core, a book addressed almost exclusively to humans.
How, then, are non-human beings positioned within it?

Of course, there is the story of Noah’s Ark.
Yet somehow, it does not quite resonate with me.

As a Japanese person, I am accustomed to thinking that all living things—and even inanimate objects—possess a kind of spirit.
Compared with that worldview, Christianity feels fundamentally different.

I had always assumed it was different from the Japanese sensibility shaped by the idea of countless gods,
but I was struck anew by just how wide that gap truly is.

I once wrote on this blog about Descartes’ theory of animals as machines.
Western views of animals and those of Japanese people—or at least of someone like me, who lives with a dog—still feel profoundly apart.

And yet, attending such a service every week—singing hymns and listening to sermons—it is easy to see how faith becomes deeply woven into everyday life.
It also made me understand, on a very practical level, why Christian voters play such an important role in presidential elections.

 

Back to the Place Where I Was Born — New York Stay, Day 3

 I had long carried a quiet wish: to see the place where I was born, just once in my lifetime.
As the years passed and the sense of time remaining grew shorter, I began to wonder if that wish would remain unfulfilled.
This journey, however, finally made it possible.

 

For as long as I can remember, I had hoped to see my birthplace at least once.
As my remaining years gradually began to feel more limited, the thought crossed my mind that I might never make it there.

Then, earlier this year, my daughter was assigned to work in New York, and with that, an opportunity to visit the East Coast emerged.
Of course, I could have come even if she had not been there, but “going to see my daughter” served as a perfectly reasonable excuse for taking a long vacation.
And to be honest, there was nothing untrue about a parent’s desire to see a daughter doing her best alone in a foreign country.
In that way, my long-held wish—to see my birthplace at least once before I die—was finally fulfilled.

 

I had originally planned to come in the summer.
However, my younger brother, who had been hospitalized, took a sudden turn for the worse, and I used the airline’s one-time ticket change option to postpone the trip until winter.
In the end, he passed away shortly after December began.
After completing his funeral, I came here at last.

Sixty years ago, my father was working at a hospital in the suburbs of Boston, and during that time, my brother and I were born.
I was born first, and my brother followed two years later.
He was born prematurely and had Down syndrome, so our return to Japan was delayed by six months, and our family went back together.
For both of us, of course, Japan itself was an entirely new country.

Heavy snow had fallen through the night, delaying the Amtrak train from New York to Boston, and I worried whether we would even be able to move around after arriving.
But by the time we reached Boston, the snow had stopped, and the city lay quietly beneath a beautiful white blanket.

The hospital where we were born had long since closed and been demolished, and a new university hospital now stands on the site.
Still, the address remains.
Standing on that hill, I allowed myself a moment of reflection, and I reported quietly to the sky, to my brother who had left for heaven a little earlier.

 

My wife and daughter shared that quiet sense of joy.
One of the major purposes of my life has now been fulfilled.
Even so, this is not the end.
My life, it seems, will continue for a little while longer.

So Many Different Kinds of Peopleー New York Stay, Day2

 

New York was cold.
The high was around 1°C, and the low dropped to minus 6.
By evening, snow began to fall.

Compared with Kamakura, it felt like I had come to a much colder place.
Still, the temperature here was higher than in Sapporo.
So, it was not such a big deal.

That said, cold is cold.
Even so, I went out for a walk.

There were not many people walking outside, but once inside a shopping mall, it was crowded with people.
After a while, it began to feel not so different from Shibuya or Shinjuku in Tokyo.

What is different is the variety of people.
In Japan, the vast majority are Japanese, with foreign tourists making up the rest.
Here, the word “foreigner” itself feels unnecessary.

When I first arrived in New York, my daughter said that she did not feel conscious of being Japanese here.
Now I understand what she meant.

This is not my first time abroad.
Still, New York feels different from the West Coast and from Europe.
In NY, ethnic diversity exists as an unquestioned part of everyday life.

To be honest, I am not fond of inbound tourism.
What I dislike is when visitors make no effort to adapt to Japanese customs.
Here, however, different customs are thoroughly mixed together, and there is no expectation of shared values.

Ethical standards vary widely.
Naturally, manners do as well.

Yet one thing seems to be shared: people try not to trouble others.
Even so, this appears less a matter of goodwill than a practical way to avoid unnecessary friction.

I visited a few shops I had researched on YouTube, but most of what they sold could easily be found in Japan.
Aside from souvenirs, I will probably avoid unnecessary spending.

Macy’s was still holding its Christmas sale and looked festive.
This atmosphere will likely continue through the weekend.

 

Visiting My Daughter in New York — New York Stay, Day 1

I came to New York to visit my daughter, who is currently working here.

As I would be away for an extended period, and for security reasons, I decided to publish these posts after returning to Japan.

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I took the afternoon off and flew from Haneda to New York on a night flight.

For someone with claustrophobia, eleven hours felt long and a little worrying. Fortunately, the cabin was fairly empty, and with the help of medication, I arrived without any major problems.

My daughter was waiting for me at the airport.

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I left Japan on December 25 and managed to arrive in New York in time for Christmas night on the same date.

After unpacking, we went out into the city on Christmas night.

 

The sheer number of people on the streets surprised me. Despite the cold, everyone seemed cheerful, enjoying the evening.

“ In New York, if you bump into someone, just say I’m sorry, ”
my daughter had advised me beforehand.

I stayed alert with that in mind, but in the most crowded places, there was no time to say anything at all. In areas with a bit more space, there was simply no need to worry about bumping into anyone.

 

That night, I enjoyed a meal my daughter had prepared, and we spent a pleasant evening together.