Please join Tsukimi Kai Saturday, October 6, 2007 from 2 pm – 5 pm for a wonderful afternoon of activities celebrating the opening of Tsukimi Kai's new photo exhibit documenting their second trip to Cuba in December 2006.  Included in the program will be a Shisaa (Okinawan lion dance) performance, commentary by Tsukimi Kai II members, community dialogue and refreshments - of course!  The event will be held at the National Japanese American Historical Society (NJAHS) Peace Gallery at 1684 Post St. (between Laguna and Webster) in San Francisco Japantown.  The Tsukimi Kai Dos Photo Exhibit will be on display at the NJAHS Gallery through December 31, 2007.

About the Tsukimi Kai Dos Photo Exhibit

The new exhibit is subtitled Nikkei Reflections: Continuing the Connection with Cuban Nikkei and documents the December 2006 trip (their second) to Cuba. The Tsukimi Kai Dos (TKD) trip to Cuba brought a fantastic group of U.S. Nisei, Sansei, Yonsei and friends to Cuban Nikkei communities in Havana, on La Isla de la Juventud and the fishing village of Surgidero de Batabano.  TKD celebrated Oshogatsu (Japanese New Year) together with food, Japanese and Okinawan dance, taiko drumming, origami, daruma making and the Okinawan Lion dance.  TKD also visited the Presidio Modelo where all Cuban Nikkei men were incarcerated during WWII.  Extensive oral histories were taken both as in-depth re-interviews of old friends and many new contacts including Okinawan Cubans and the descendants of Japanese fishermen of Surgidero de Batabano.

About Tsukimi Kai

Our name, Tsukimi Kai, means moon-viewing group.  It alludes to the reflection of the loved ones an emigrant hopes to see in the full moon.  Four years ago we learned that there were other Nikkei (people of Japanese or Okinawan ancestry) in Cuba , and had a vision of this newfound community in the full moon.  We overcame U.S. government travel restrictions in order to visit these distant relatives who live in the country that is our closest neighbor after Mexico and Canada .  We did not find demons or poor oppressed slaves of the “axis of evil.”  We found people - people with whom we shared and celebrated our cultural roots.  But more than that, we sometimes felt as though we were looking in a mirror, seeing ourselves or our ancestors in a different country, under different circumstances: a farmer, a fisherman, a doctor, a musician, a photojournalist, a child of mixed ancestry.   And we could not avoid the terrible reflection of a common experience during WW2.  

We went to Cuba not as rich Nikkei visiting our “poor, less fortunate” brethren.  We went to share and celebrate our common heritage.  On our first trip in August 2005 we broke the ice and celebrated Obon together.  We recorded stories about the Japanese immigration to Cuba , how the Issei built new lives, and how the men were incarcerated during WW2.  Our second trip this past December and January celebrated Oshogatsu (Japanese New Year).  This time our group included three U.S and Canadian Nisei who shared their WW2 camp experiences with their Cuban counterparts.  The Nisei found more common ground when singing the same Japanese children’s songs they had learned from their mothers and when making origami cranes.  Common Okinawan roots were celebrated in the shiisaa (lion) performance and other songs and dances.

On the first trip we opened our hearts to each other, greeting each other as long-lost relatives.  On the second trip we were welcomed into many more homes where we had some frank discussions about life in Cuba and the United States .  We could see our common hopes reflected in each other’s words while we also confronted preconceptions about our geographically close, but politically distant societies.  In Cuba this kind of sharing among people with a common interest is called solidarity.

A poet wrote:

When the full moon is in the sky and the immigrant's heart is aflame with the expectation of love, a silent voice within cries for union with the ancestral home.

This longing unites the Nikkei under the moonlight across the seas, in the promise of eventual reunion.  They hear each other through the voices of the heart.

The sound of the prophetic harp came to us one day.  Impassioned, we crossed the waters of separation.

We arrived in Cuba , gleaming in the moonlight, as dew on the nocturnal flower.  We were received as members of the same family. We celebrated the fullness of the moon. We sang songs that had been deep asleep in the soul.  The smell of the earth differed, but we were one in the roundness of the moon.

We now return to you with a conversation in images, a living piece of history, to be preserved for posterity, for the youth growing up without memories, and for us all, seeking fullness in ourselves.

Accept the greetings of peace from those we have met.

The pictures are without seduction.  They are the voices of the forgotten, classically illustrating what is essentially human in us all.  They rise above all in celebration of the glory of the human family, for the whole world to see.