Before reading any further, let me inform the readers that I am keeping my whole identity confidential, for the sole reason of protecting myself. But what I can tell you is this: that I am a Japanese citizen by birthright (born in Japan, and my father being a Japanese) and a half-Filipino half-Japanese in terms of ethnicity. I can understand Nihongo, but I have yet to become fluent with my native tongue. I was raised in my mother's homeland (Philippines) to become an educated and responsible person and I have returned here in Japan with the hopes of pursuing my goals and aspirations.

Prior to my return, I have been informed of many accounts about the realities that people have faced during their stay here. I kept all these in mind but made utmost effort not to make hasty assumptions about the Japanese people in general. But now, only after 3 months of my stay, I am writing this entry because I am beyond compelled to relate to the readers an encounter that has exacerbated my growing skepticism about this country. I have written down how I exactly remembered the event that will change the rest of my life here.   

November 1, 2007. For Christians, it was a day designated in commemoration of the Church's role models, the saints. Here in Japan it was just a typical autumn morning... or at least it was supposed to be. My brother walked out of our apartment as I was left making final preparations for a day's work. When the clock struck 6:20 am, I knew I had 3 minutes left before I miss the train ride en route to the city where we work. And without a second thought, I hurriedly took the usual route on the way to the train station. And just when I was about a corner away, I caught a glimpse of a scene that rendered me speechless for events to come - my sibling backed against a wall, holding his Japanese passport while being surrounded by not less than 8 men clad in blue suits or work clothes (genba). They were representatives from the local police and the immigration office, who disguised themselves as civilians to catch us off our guards.

Two of them saw me coming and tried to stop me from going any further. But they didn't have to. I stood still, dumbfounded with what I saw, wondering how this could have happened to us. As I approached my brother, he told me that they are in pursuit of illegal immigrants and we appear to be their targets. But what baffled me was the fact that my brother had already shown his passport yet these individuals continued to bombard him with questions. Nor did they even back down to give my brother some personal space to explain that we are Japanese but have been raised elsewhere. Shouldn't his passport suffice to let him continue to go to work? And what confused me even more was that I recall a policeman conducting a census in our area less than a month ago. My brother himself showed the proper documents as a proof of our legitimate residence.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I can hardly respond to their multiple queries. Then one of them asked if I was his brother. We responded "yes" and I was asked if I brought my passport. The first thing that entered my mind was "Why in the world do I have to bring it with me to work?" Obviously I didn't have one, and so we were asked to escorted to our house and get it. And then it struck me. What if I was the one who went ahead to the station?

As we showed them my passport, they knew they were left with squat. My brother was psyched out and so he decided to stay in the apartment. I chose to go to work and explain the incident to our supervisor; but as I rushed back to the station, I noticed that there were more men surrounding the vicinity of our house. I wasn't there for their explanation, but I was told later that a tip from a source prompted them to make a move against us as soon as they heard it.  But as far as I know, a tip in itself does not establish enough grounds to arrest someone.

I know for a fact that this incident is not as rare as a solar eclipse, but for me, this one is not something that should be dismissed as "something that can't be helped" (shoganai). This whole incident did not only cause us inconvenience, but it left a mark in our hearts as to how things go in Japan. Just because of the way we look, we were tagged as criminals. Because of our complexion and facial features, because of our heritage... it was enough to send an armada of men to put us down, as if we were highly dangerous to the society. It was downright debilitating, humiliating, dehumanizing. If I am not highly mistaken, the people who are in the receiving end of this treatment are the ones who aren't Americans or British. This is not a hasty assumption, for I have read, heard and seen that this particular group of people is highly revered in this country, even though most would not admit to it. (I may digress if I write more insights on the phenomenon of social segregation here.)   

Since then, whenever I go out, whether for work or personal purposes, I am anxious that such a thing might just happen again. And as an added insult to injury, I have to bear with the irony that I have to keep a passport handy in my own birthplace, in a place I ought to call my home.

Reijiro "Zero" Abrera

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