Frozen Teardrop (5 page)

There was no discussion afterward about it, other than saying this is what needs to be done when this happens. I truly wonder how scared my mother was, if at all, because she never showed it. I wanted to follow suit and be just like my mother. We were told that the helmets were placed everywhere so that people could use them in time of earthquakes. In our school we were told where they were kept, right in the beginning, and many, many earthquake drills were done throughout the year. Later in our home we would have a separate container near our beds with helmets inside, as well as some food and water to be taken with us in case of a serious earthquake. We would always be on high alert for earthquakes and throughout the thirteen years there were many more serious ones we lived through.

Since the two different schools we were supposed to attend were about a long, one-hour drive apart, my mother decided after this incident that she would put both of us in the same school. Then in case of an emergency my sister would be able to take care of me. Again, I had no choice except to follow my older sister. I wasn't asked or talked to about any of this. I would go where I was guided, and it was really necessary for my own safety. This comes with living in foreign countries. Our parents needed to make the decisions and we needed to follow, because as kids we already had so much to contend with by never being in the same place for very long and not being familiar with our surroundings or people that our parents did not want to burden us with one more thing on our plate.

Not having any familiar faces or places around you that you see all the time can be very scary to a child. It really has had a profound effect on me. So in one way it was wonderful of my parents that none of this was ever discussed so that we as children could be sheltered and feelings like this could be overlooked. They provided everything to me and in the best possible way and in the most beautiful wrapping. All I had to do was to play when I was young and to produce when older. So I.S.S.H, International School of the Sacred Heart, it would be, and we would start right away while still living in the hotel.

I.S.S.H was the most prestigious private school in Japan. Even the Crown Princess of Japan, Empress Michiko, had attended it. The classes went from kindergarten all the way to the university level. It was an all-girl, English-speaking Catholic school with classic uniforms. My sister would enter the eighth grade and I would enter my first year of kindergarten there. However, in Paris I had already gone to kindergarten and the plan was that after the summer I was to skip two years and enter first grade at four years old because I was advanced. I was so thrilled since I was done with the cutting, drawing, and singing. My brain was working overtime and I was very ready for the advanced learning. Even when I was older I loved to think ahead, and at seven years old I said to my mother, “I am not content with the books in the school library. I think further than the library.”

So you can imagine my parents' and my reaction and disappointment when my new school in Tokyo informed us that they would not budge on their policies, saying I had to do another two full years of kindergarten before being allowed into first grade. My parents were very angry but the nuns were adamant and so was the Japanese culture weighing on them. Nothing could be done.

I started kindergarten in September and during the next two years my French, bubbly, confident, and I must admit, a little cheeky, personality came through. In those two years of kindergarten there were frequent episodes where I had to wait in front of the dean's office to be later scolded for no reason that made sense to me. My mother would be called in to meet with the dean as well but it never was big enough to be taken really seriously. It was for things like my picking flowers when and where I shouldn't have been, or throwing my shoe out of the kindergarten gate so that I could climb over and get it. Even when another girl started a fight I always seemed to be the one to get blamed. It was my way of rebelling and wanting freedom since I was so bored with what they were teaching me in kindergarten. I wanted to learn and to explore and I felt they were holding me back. But what I did learn during this time was the English language.

In October of 1984 we moved into our new home. This was the most beautiful and huge apartment I had ever seen. My mother always wanted the family to live right in the middle of the city so that we would be near to the embassies, hospitals, schools, and my father's work in case of any emergency. My mother was always on alert and thinking for everyone. I think this mentality and the strength my mother needed for the whole family put a lot of strain on her and she became very tough on us. I am also sure, although it might be hard for her to admit, that my mother was scared.

The new home was wonderful. It was big and spacious and I was totally elated when our furniture had arrived from Paris. My parents were adamant that when we moved around the world for my father's job, the furniture would always come with us to keep some things consistent for the children. It was the best idea because it made me feel so much at home. Each piece of furniture was filled with wonderful memories.

During this time I continued with my ballet and skating and now started piano classes as well. Since school was not enriching my curious mind, my mother organized after-school classes for me that taught the Japanese language, Japanese arts and crafts, and various other subjects to keep my mind intrigued. We used to have these classes in our new home and have some of my best friends from school join as well. Or we would explore in the parks and catch tadpoles or play with my turtles I had as pets. I loved reptiles and bugs and refused to kill any living organism.

And yes, there was ice-skating. It was there, and boy-oh-boy, in a different way than it was in Paris. For my sister, of course, going to the ice rink was one of the first things she did upon arriving in Tokyo. She absolutely loved ice skating, I think more than I did then or ever would. My parents found the best skating rink in Tokyo and there my sister began lessons from a Japanese lady coach. She was the second-best teacher at the rink and my parents took her because she spoke English quite well and was a good fit for my sister.

I started with group lessons cornered off to one side of the rink while all the older skaters swished by. I would look at them in awe, wanting private lessons as well and wanting to skate on their side of the ice. I detested the group lessons and showed it. I actually never liked doing anything in groups. I liked to be alone, in my own world with my own thoughts. I didn't like to be told what to do and having everyone else doing the same thing as me. I refused to go to the group lessons, but still wanted to skate, so my mother had me start private lessons with the lady coach. My sister went every morning and afternoon before and after school. I went just in the afternoon, as I was only four and my plate was already full with once-a-week skating lessons, three-times-a-week ballet lessons, once-a-week piano lessons, and of course skating on my own as well as attending school, so my parents didn't want to push me more.

My sister and I were the only foreigners at the ice rink and so the teasing began. They used to joke about my sister's long legs, about our blond hair, our freckles, and anything you could imagine. We were outcasts and although I was so young and did not understand the language, body language can express all that is needed to understand. Kids know more than they can say and unconsciously I started to get more and more insecure about myself. As years progressed it would get worse, and the kind of French self-confidence and bubbly characteristics I previously had would soon be frozen in time like the water I skated on.

By the time I was eight years old I was in second grade and absolutely loved school. I could sit in my room for hours studying and reading and making experiments or being out in the nature playing with God's creations. But there wasn't too much time for that since I had now had picked up cello to add to the piano and my skating, and ballet became more and more serious. At age seven I had received a scholarship to the Royal Ballet of London and spent a summer at the school to see if it was to my liking. On returning to Tokyo my mother told me that I had a very serious and important decision to make that would impact and change the course of my whole life with this one turn of fate. I had to choose to pursue either ballet, skating, piano, or cello, because I could not succeed in anything properly if I were to do them all. There just wasn't enough time in a day, and I was excelling at them all so it was time to devote my energy and talents into one avenue.

I was always told, however, that school and academics came first. If I received grade letter A's in school I would then be allowed the rest. I was only eight and I felt the weight of this decision-making tremendously and it was torture to be told that this decision would affect my whole life. On the other hand, how wonderful it was to have the luxury of choice. However, I had never really chosen anything in my life until this big dilemma and I was confused. Ironically for me, it really boiled down to ballet or skating, although just lately I found notes that my mother had written that I had said I liked cello much better than any other art form I had been doing. Nevertheless, maybe skating and ballet had seemed grander to me, or somehow I was trying to follow what my older sister was doing, and so I seemed to have narrowed it down to those two. I knew that if I chose ballet I would have to leave home at age eleven to go to the boarding school of The Royal Ballet in London, and if the choice was ice skating, I would be able to stay with my family.

I didn't know anything about either lifestyle, but already I knew they would both require serious work. But what did I really know when I was that young? It felt like I was being thrown two wrapped gifts at the same time. I had no idea of the contents of the gifts so how could I know which I wanted more to therefore catch first and let the other fall to the ground? It was a one-shot decision with no turning back. I would never be able to unwrap the other gift. I did not want to choose. I wanted both.

What did I love more, what did I want to do for years and years to come, which world did I want to spend hours and days of my life in, and what did I want to become? I had no time to decide. Both arts have short-lived lives. It was now or never. For months it was the only thing on my mind. My mother started to put ballet and skating stickers on my belongings and write notes on my lunch napkins that she would support me on whatever path I chose, and I used to tear up thinking I had to give up one or the other. I seldom have favorites in life, so it was a very hard decision for me. I didn't feel one was better or worse than the other for me, I didn't love one more than the other, nor did I hate one more than the other. I took life, and still take life, as it comes. I always flow with the tide and that may be good or bad. It is who I am and I don't think I need to defend myself on that point, but this made me not quite understand why I had to decide at that time. In my child's brain, I wanted to just see what would evolve in my life. But that's not how an athlete's or an artist's life goes. You have to devote everything you have to it from a very young age or else it will be too late to succeed. Or so, that is what we all believed.

Even now I like most things and I am not fussy. I just accept things as they are. I detested then and now the need to make decisions. Choices are important but likes and dislikes seem like spoiled decisions to me. Maybe it came from always being told what to do and not having the chance to choose or maybe it is just my personality in that I never wanted something to be my fault, so I wanted to let others decide for me. I did not want the responsibility for my parents' disappointment.

Finally a couple of months later while in the car after school, I told my mother I had decided to put all my energy into skating, if that was all right with her. I wanted to please my mother and hoped the decision was the right one for her, too. I thought that if my choice was to skate I still could do ballet to help the skating. But if I chose ballet I wouldn't need to skate. I didn't want to lose anything so I felt this was the only way I could keep both. I also liked the idea of being alone on the ice, doing what I wanted and dressing as I liked. In ballet everyone had to look, dress, and do all the exercises the same way. With skating I could invent and create, to be as unique as I wanted. I could just be me, or so I thought then. I would glide and feel the wind on my face. I could change anything I wanted in the last minute.

My choice was based on the simple and pure emotion and fact that all I wanted was to keep doing it all. It is truly fascinating to me that when I watch videos of former Olympic skating champions who competed at that time, they said on camera that they wanted to be Olympic champions when they grew up. I never, ever, not even once, had that thought in my mind. I guess I never wanted to be an Olympic champion, but what I did want to be was an artist, and somehow in my child's mind, an angel, good to all. I always wanted to look after everyone, to take care of people in need and those feeling lost. I felt that was always my mission, and it is what I later on hoped to do when I spun on ice.

When I chose skating, my schedule changed. Ballet three times a week became once a week, skating once a week became every day, and finally cello and piano were each reduced to once a week. I did however continue with my cello and piano recitals and ballet performances, and now serious skating competitions were starting. I was a very busy child and did not have time for friends or social activities. I don't ever remember going on a sleep over or playing much with my friends after school. I had work to do. It wasn't that I was working to be a champion. It was just that I was excelling at everything so quickly that my parents believed strongly in me and expected so much from me. They wanted to see where my abilities led me.

The mentality was to use the talents you have. You are already lucky enough to have them so it would be a disgrace and shame to God not to work on them. Nothing in my family was every done half way. It was always all or nothing. I was so busy I wouldn't see my father much as he was also traveling nonstop across Asia, and I would be able to spend time with him only on the weekends when we weren't at the ice rink. My sister, who was so much older, was on a completely different schedule, so really all my memories of this time are of my mother and me.