Wellcome to Taiwan Suzuki Method

　Recently I had an occasion to write a report for the Suzuki's quarterly publication regarding our fellow association overseas. Through my limited experience in teaching and meeting people abroad, I feel that I understand the ideal of what Dr. Suzuki had been preaching. I'd like to take this opportunity to share what I have learned.

　My first experience with Suzuki Methods overseas was in South Korea in 1992, on the occasion of “the South Korea-Japan Joint Concert.” Then, in 1994, I was invited to the celebration concert for the establishment of the Taiwan Suzuki Association. For these two musical exchange programs I participated with some of my students.

　After my first visit to South Korea in 1992, I was asked to teach at the Teacher Trainee program at the Suzuki Methods in Soul in August of the same year, and similarly in February 1993 in Cheonju city. My interpreter was a music teacher Mr. Choi,who was from my father's generation.

　Mr. Choi wore a hunting cap, which is rarely seen nowadays, and nobody would doubt it if he had been introduced as my uncle. During our tea times or at the dinner table he was talkative, I gathered he wanted to use his Japanese. Dr. Kim Hi-Mo, the chairman and the founder of the Suzuki Methods in South Korea , also addressed me in Japanese that was so quaint and polite that I didn't have a word to reply.

　Let me go back to Mr. Choi. He was educated to become a Japanese before the World War II. His memory of Japanese military policemen patrolling the city, and the military officer assigned to his school at that time were all frightful, and fearful. He told me that a friend of his was taken in custody because the diary that he was forced to submit contained dangerous ideas. Mr. Choi said he was overjoyed when his friend was released after the War. Another teacher of Mr. Choi's generation intervened in the conversation and said, “You don't learn such history in school in Japan , do you?”

　I asked Mr. Choi why he became a music teacher. He told me, remembering fondly, “Because I met this Japanese teacher Mr. so-and so, he was such a nice person.”

　On the way back from Taiwan in '94, I was seated with elderly Taiwanese people in the airplane, who had received Japanese education. And they talked to me all the way back to Japan . It seemed that they had an urge to tell me about their experience under the Japanese colonization in Taiwan , “After the War, we were suddenly freed, we were no longer Japanese.” Nowadays this part of history is not unheard of, however, though my father was born in the south of Taiwan , I was not knowledgeable of the details so it was rather shocking to hear their story.

　They were among the group of tourists to Japan , and they said that many had been here more than once. “Have you ever been to Chiran in Kagoshima prefecture? You ought to go to the memorial museum for the Japanese suicide squad. I could not hold tears welling up in my eyes there,” said one of them.

　A few years later I went to Tan-shui, an old port town in Taiwan for the workshop. On the last day, an elderly gentleman who came to see his grandchild play sat next to me. He himself played some piano during childhood, and listening to his grandchild practice was his daily routine. He told me his past, as those people had in the airplane. He even subscribed to a Japanese economic newspaper published daily in Hong Kong . “In those days, if you tell your parents that you were slapped by a teacher, you were scolded and slapped again by your parents saying you were bad and wrong.

　Nowadays, parents go to school to protest if such a thing happens, isn't that so?”

　Again, I could not properly comment on his remark, though he appeared to be quite eager to tell his story.

　At dinner a special poultry soup was served. It was a well-known dish in this country. In it was a whole chicken. “Mr. Terada, this is the most delicious part, eat this, and eat what is floating there.” He tightly held the chicken's backside with his chopsticks and offered me to eat the middle of it. He was generous, but the chicken happened to be the food I don't like so I swallowed it with my eyes closed.

　Before the War, he took a piano lesson from a Japanese teacher, and that became his motive to start learning the piano. “My teacher was very strict, but was gentle outside the lesson. So that even today I like to listen to the piano,” said he narrowing his eyes.

　There was another meeting during my visit to Taiwan for the Teacher Trainee program. It was the April 2003 when SARS significantly reduced the number of tourists coming to Taiwan . During my free hours I visited my favorite shop that specializes in teas. The shop was usually crowded with many Japanese, but that day there was none, but was a local elderly man sampling a tea. Soon there came a couple with the age similar to the other customer in the shop, and they started to have a chat. What surprised me was their language. It was a mixture of Taiwanese and Japanese. Even more amazing was that they were discussing the proofreading for a bulletin of Japanese tanka poetry.

　While I was sampling the tea with an occasional glance at them, a husband of the couple addressed to me. “My wife was also a music teacher.” The young master of the tea shop apparently told them that I was a cello teacher. What a coincidence, but the further introduction was truly exciting. There is a person called “Rao Taipei” who is with extensive knowledge and memory. He often appears in “Kaido-o-iku(going about the road) a travelogue of Taiwan written by Ryotaro Shiba. His real name was Kun-Tsan Tsai, and I was just introduced to him in this tea shop!

　Mr. Tsai asked about my roots. Both my grandparents were from Kagoshima prefecture. “I've been to the airport base in Kanoya and Chiran. Which one is Navy, and which one is Army?” I could not answer to his question, then he added, “Nobody tells you such a story, I'm sure.” So his stories went on continuously. He mentioned the author, Mr. Shiba, Mr. Chiang Kai-Shek and his son, the former President Lee Teng-Hui, and Dr. Mineo Nakajima, who is the board of directors of the Suzuki Method. I told him that I know Dr. Nakajima well. Then he said, “When you see him, tell him that the old man in Taiwan is hanging in there.”

　I was told that before the War, many Japanese teachers from Kyushu prefecture were sent to Taiwan , and their influence upon students was not insignificant. As a matter of fact, with his wife Mr. Tsai visited the grave of his teacher at the big island of Amami . There were warmly welcomed as the first foreigners visiting the island since its return to the mainland.

　At that moment a thought suddenly flashed in my mind. If a student whom I teach overseas grows up with a good memory of a Japanese cello teacher, or gets better at cello, then, he would not wish to fight with a country where that teacher is from. Thank God, or Buddha for giving me the chance to meet all these people and for leading me to this awareness. Moreover, it is thanks to Dr. Suzuki, who often said in his teachings, “I'll go to the other world ahead of you, and negotiate with the Great King the of Hell Yama , who is stirring up the dispute and wars.”

　Promoting international friendship or cultural exchange is one thing, but we the Suzuki Method needs to think about further is what is possible to do with our musical ability and its education. The Suzuki Method established its methodology and has a history of developing teaching materials. However, if we want to promote mutual understanding among other nations, and wish to develop the methods for all the children, we should not neglect studying the situation of each country or region unceasingly.

Yoshihiko Terada

TERI Cello Instructor

English translated by Yukiko Gray

Korea Suzuki Winter Music Camp 2002

ASA Conference in Singapore 2002

ASA Conference in Taiwan 2004

ASA Conference in Taiwan 2004