Anna Matsushita

  1975 — Life at the Boarding School   Monday morning. The first period was Mathematics.   "Good morning, everyone. Right then, open your books to page eighteen..." I did as I was told, but several of my classmates still looked half asleep.   A month had slipped by since I'd arrived at the Japanese boarding school. I'd become quite used to eating in the dining hall. That morning, Maiko and I were chatting over scrambled eggs as usual. Before we knew it, the bell rang, ten minutes before lessons were due to begin. We grabbed our bags and ran to the classroom.   It didn't take me long to notice that, out of the twenty-eight students in our year, fewer than I'd expected paid much attention in lessons. It was the same in Mathematics as it was in Japanese. Some slept with their heads on their desks. Others didn't even bother to listen.   The moment the bell rang at the end of each lesson, a handful of students disappeared outsi...

1978 – The Japanese Boarding School by the Sea "A Japanese school." I'd never heard the term before. It was only when Father was told he was being transferred to England for three years that it entered my life. In 1974, I was in my first year of high school, attending one of the city's top academic schools. If I worked hard enough, I believed I could sit the entrance exams for the university I wanted. Then came the news of Father’s transfer. The following year, in early summer 1975, my parents took me to England with my younger brother, who had only just started junior high school. Father had only one plan. He was determined to put both of us into British schools. I wanted nothing of the sort. I wanted to go to a Japanese high school in the UK. Even so, as soon as we arrived in England, Father dragged my brother and me from one school interview to another. Everywhere we went, the answer was the same. “You're already seventeen, and you don't speak English. I...