Ayumi、Romance, Dan E. Venz, Eddy Venz, Eddie Venz, Edward Venz

A look at first love: Dan E. Venz

This book is dedicated to my father who taught me that sometimes the best way to deal with things in life is to think like a kid.

"My first exposure to a Japanese family was when I was a kid, growing up in San Diego. That experience, and the friendship that I built during those years, changed my life forever, and probably has a lot more to do than I realize, of why I am married to a Japanese woman and find myself living in Japan today. Although this book is fiction, a lot of it is based on experiences that I had with the Japanese family down the street." D.E.Venz

I was in 3rd grade when Angela first invited me to her house. Back then, the early 70’s, we were all living the nice life in Southern California. I have a lot of fond memories of that time in my life….Angela sat next to me in class, but it took us a while into the start of the school year to actually become friends. She was a quiet girl who did not talk much and seemed a little reserved. I found out later, that she was Japanese. I also found out that her real name was not Angela. That Angela was the name her parents had given her when they moved to America so that she could “fit in” better.

Her mother and father had come to California when she was 4. She was born and lived her first four years in a small city in Northern Kyushu called Iizuka, near Fukuoka. They brought her grandmother with them as her grandfather had already passed away. As the first few months of 3rd grade progressed, it was only natural that Angela and I began to talk to each other. I found her to be very cute. She was small, and very “typically” Asian in features. I found her facial features and her physique very charming and, even back then when I was just 9, interesting to me. I liked her. We began sitting with each other at lunch, and eventually she invited me over to her house to play after school.

Arriving at her house, I was immediately shocked by their front yard. It was the weirdest grass I had ever seen. It did not even really look like grass. It looked more like moss that had been put over rocks or little hills. It was not straight, but looked like a hundred very tiny mountains. My next shock came when I almost walked on the grass. Angela screamed at me not to walk on it….She did not go into the “why” of not walking on the grass that day, but I found out much later that her father had spent quite a long time cultivating the “special” moss looking grass and that for some reason it was very important to him. We rang the doorbell and her grandmother appeared. A small, frail looking lady whose gentleness oozed from her every gesture, mannerism and face. I knew immediately that grandma was a “kind” person. The grandmother started talking to Angela and Angela asked me to take off my shoes before going into the house. The grandmother lead us into the living room, and spoke more to Angela. Angela translated to me. The grandmother asked if I wanted some cookies and something to drink. We both said yes, and grandma left the room, smiling at me with such a truly “real” smile that I felt totally comfortable with grandma, even though we could not communicate verbally directly.

Angela asked me if I could play Othello. I had never heard of the game before, but I was totally enjoying myself so far that day, so I asked her to teach me. She got up and ran out of the room, not even turning around as she screamed out that she would go get the game and be back in a minute.

While Angela was gone, her mother came back to the living room with hot chocolate and cookies for us. She was also quiet and reserved and our conversation consisted of her asking my name and if I was Angela's friend from school. She asked this in broken English, and it seemed so cute and genuine to me. She put the tray with the hot chocolate and cookies on a small table in the middle of the room, and left.

Angela returned and we spent the better part of the day with her teaching me Othello. She really kicked my butt the first few games, but I got the hang of it and eventually I was able to at least make some sort of competition out of it. I did win one game, but to this day I believe that Angela let me win.

After getting bored with Othello, Angela asked if I wanted to go out to the backyard and play. The back yard, was really a huge Japanese garden, with a fountain in the middle that fed water to 3 different small ponds, each with huge goldfish in them. The ponds were surrounded by bonsai trees and towards the back of the garden, on the right side, there was a manmade mountain, about 7 feet tall, which I later found out was a replica of Mt. Fuji. Opposite Mt. Fuji, on the back left-hand side of the garden was a statue of a man in a robe. It was dark gray and stood about 4 1/2 feet tall. There were very small white pebbles surrounding the statue in a circle for about 10 feet in diameter and small gray stones that led from the edge of the garden to the statue.

Throughout the garden were numerous fruit trees and bushes. Some of them I knew, but others were new to me. Angela introduced me to my first persimmon (kaki) that day and also told me how beautiful cherry blossom trees are when they are in bloom. All in all, the garden was like an escape from reality. From the day to day life that we all have to put up with to survive. It would take a few years, but I would come to love and respect that garden for what it really represented as much as the man who created it.

We played and played, and Angela's mother and grandmother would sometimes come out to ask us if we were all right or to offer us more refreshments. During that day, when we were playing hide and seek, I hid in a place where I could see into the kitchen window from my hiding place in the garden. I saw both the mother and grandmother looking out into the garden, talking and smiling at each other. Somehow I knew that they were talking about us and that they were happy I was there. I don’t know how I knew this, but I knew it.

As the sun was going down and it came time to go home, I found myself sad to leave Angela’s haven, but it was time to go home. We bid farewell to each other, I thanked the mother and grandmother for letting me come over. They thanked me for coming and asked me to come back whenever I wanted to. As I walked home that day, the comfortable feeling I had felt in Angela’s home began to fade as I got nearer and nearer to my own, typical white American house with a dysfunctional family waiting for me. One thing I knew. I would be going back to Angela’s house as often as I could. I also decided that day that Angela was my new best friend. The years to come would see us become much more than friends, but on that warm sunny afternoon in sunny California, I had no idea what my future would bring.