Frozen Teardrop (8 page)

The train trip lasted for ten days and there was no shower, only a small bathroom where my mother washed me every morning and scrubbed me down. The food cart was as interesting as when we were in China. It was bustling and noisy and all kinds of ethnic Chinese food were served. As we entered Russia the food cart was more subdued and all we got to eat was borscht. We played cards, played chess together, looked out the window for hours together, and talked together, It was the beauty of this experience that you didn't have to do anything to feel the love in the family and the inseparable devotion we had for each other. This time would be etched in my memory forever. It was the chosen glances and words we spoke with that made the trip the most memorable ever. As promised, I did my exercises diligently everyday as well as my ballet-bar work, and I worked on my flexibility with my mother helping me on the bed and on the floor in the hallway.

There were a couple of interesting incidents during the trip. Often the train would unexpectedly come to a stop at any time of the day, but frequently in the middle of the night and police would raid the trains, coming into all the rooms, checking our passports on a search rampage. It was rather terrifying for me because I had no idea why police were on the train and what they were searching for. Later on my parents told me they were looking for drugs and illegal transport of goods. A lot of the people would stuff drugs into Russian nesting dolls (Babushka or Matryushka dolls). One interesting incident in particular that I will always remember happened during the middle of the trip. I was sleeping soundly and suddenly awakened by my father's voice telling us to quickly get up and put some clothes on and get off the train. The train had come to a halt and it was about two in the morning.

Not knowing what was going on, we got off. It was pouring with rain and it was pitch dark and we had no idea where we were. We didn't really make friends with others on the train but we saw familiar faces also waiting outside, huddled under a broken roof under umbrellas. We stayed close to another family we had become acquainted with. We waited and waited while not being told what was going on. We must have waited at least two hours. It was getting cold but my sister and I kept each other company. My parents thought something had happened to the train or police had found something suspicious. But to our relief we suddenly saw that the train was lifted and that the train wheels were being changed. How captivating it was for me as a child to watch what was going on in the middle of nowhere with no light and in pouring rain.

Once my father understood what was happening, he explained to me that we were on the border of Mongolia and Russia and the tracks were different in each country. They would become wider as we entered into Russia, so they had to change the upper carriage on to a new undercarriage to fit the new tracks. It took another couple of hours but it was truly interesting to watch them work on it and to know how things worked back then. I feel lucky to have had such unforgettable experiences.

The ten days went by way too quickly and the sight of the Lake Baikal, the deepest, clearest, and oldest (25 million years old) lake in the world, made the trip top the charts. I was in heaven. On arriving in Moscow we had much more to experience. It was an astonishing sight to our eyes going from the characteristics of the Chinese people when we left to the colorful personalities of the Russians when we arrived. Both were very poor at that time so it was like the same people inside, but just camouflaged in different attire on the outside. We scrambled through the markets on arrival and people wanted to sell us all sorts of products. We got a taxi and went to the hotel. At that time Russia was still Communist and our hotels were wired. All our conversations and telephone communications were listened to. Since this freaked me out, I did not dare to utter a word in the room or on the phone. Having not had a bath for ten days, my mother filled the bathtub with water and I got first priority to sit in the tub for a while. It felt luxurious even though the amenities of the hotel were scarce and bare.

At that time my mother and I especially admired the woman skater of the Russian Olympic champion pair skaters. I used to copy a lot of her moves and expressions and many people commented about how I was skating just like her. You truly become who you look up to the most. My parents knew that they were training at the Moscow athletic government training center, and they promised me we would go there where I could skate and meet them. I couldn't contain my excitement. I don't know how my parents managed for me to skate at the same rink where the Russians champions were since at that time it was government owned with very strict quarters, but again they always made things possible. At the rink I was up and ready with my skates laced up and I stepped onto the ice. I was warming up ready to show them all the moves I could do and to show off of my skating. But to my disappointment they did not come. We learned that they were away at a training camp near the sea of Russia.

I was too happy to be truly sad about this, because for me to be able to etch a painting on the same frozen water as they had skated meant nothing could dampen my mood. Nobody else was there and I soaked in their wonderful past energy and prayed I would be as good as them some day. I was however a little relieved, too, not to have the pressure to show the woman skater my skating. Whenever I was on the ice I felt tons of pressure from my mother and ultimately myself. Little did I know I would be skating in shows with the Russian skater later on in my life.

With my turtle still in tow, being in Moscow and our next stop in St. Petersburg gave us lots of memories. One such memory is when we were stranded in the outskirts of the city trying to get back to the hotel but no taxi wanted our Swiss money. Another is the meal we ravished in a restaurant in the most beautiful dome-like hall where people brought their own liquor and own flowers to place in the stained glass vases filled with water placed in the middle of the table. After about eight days we were off to Switzerland. I remember the vast difference encountered coming all the way from Beijing. Switzerland was like another planet after what we experienced on this particular vacation, expressed with luxuriant green forests and spotlessly clean sidewalks as if money grew on trees here and even the cows seemed to be living a spoiled life. It was beautiful and it overflowed the eyes and soul after the depth and truth we had seen.

We stayed in the mountains and I skated every day. My turtle lived in the bathtub and the maids were terrified of it! My sister and I played a lot together and visited the ponds and rivers and rolled in the grass. It was as if my sister was saying goodbye to me but I did not know this. One day my sister and I were sitting on a towel in the garden and we placed my turtle in the middle of us so it could have some fresh air as we read our books. After only a few minutes of reading I looked up and saw my turtle had vanished. We panicked and started calling out its name as if it would run in turtle terms, or slowly walk in human terms, back to us! We searched and searched. But the grass was vast and green and the turtle was green, so it was an impossible feat. There was a river nearby and we went up and down it asking our neighbors if they had seen a turtle walk by! They must have thought we were nuts! This was all to no avail and my Xie Xie was gone. I was so afraid to tell my mother, but after scolding us for not looking after my pet properly she comforted me as I wept. For days after this we kept on looking. I still to this day hope it is alive and hopefully found a better home in the Swiss wilderness.

After a couple of weeks it was time for my parents and me to go back to Tokyo. I did not know this at the time but my sister was actually to stay in Switzerland and not return with us to Japan. She was to complete a skating test and then head off to University. She would live with my aunt near the university she was to attend. I am not sure if I was not told this, or I was too young to quite comprehend, or I was too engulfed in my own world, but nevertheless I remember being somewhere in the Swiss alps and my parents and me hugging my sister and crying profusely, then getting into the car and asking my mother and father why my sister wasn't coming with us. I started feeling like my heart was being torn apart.

Then I remember so vividly being in the back seat of the car, my mother and father in front crying and my looking through the rear view window to wave at my sister. I still see her today standing on top of the hill wearing blue and white sweatpants and sweatshirt as our car slowly inched away from her down the hill. She looked to me like little girl, so lost and scared, and I still to this day feel the rip in my heart. I asked my mother and father if I would ever see her again and they reassured me that of course I would. But I did not see it that way. I felt she was taken away from me and I was so scared and worried that I never would see her again.

My sister and I, although I haven't mentioned her that often, have a special bond and there is no denying it. What drew us apart was the fact that we had so many years difference in age that our experiences and our lives were on two different paths. They never crossed. My sister let me believe in my visions like Santa Claus and the tooth fairy for the longest time, and most importantly she was a great example of determination, confidence and dedication. She let me keep my innocence no matter how much she longed for it too. Our destiny of our sisterhood had yet to evolve and hopefully would one day.

Back in Tokyo it was all business. School would start soon again and training was back in full force. Competitions were nearing and I had the first one come right up as if to smack me in the face. I, understandably after such a long holiday, did not do my very best, but I won, and I felt proud. My coach did not agree with us and was not pleased. We had let him down and his opinion mattered more than ours. Well, I guessed the only resolution was more work.

My mother and I always carefully and delicately chose the music choices I skated to for each competitive season. When I was in school my mother would be in the music store for hours and surprise me with all the choices in the car on route to the rink. I loved this time and the excitement surrounding all the decisions to be made for my skating. It was wonderful as a child to have everyone running for you to provide you with all that is needed.

On the other hand, I knew I had to produce or there was no providing for me, and that is a huge toll and much responsibility to put on the child. It's a full time job. After presenting our music choices to my coach they were rudely torn apart by my coach's wife, the choreographer of the team. She chose what she wanted and saw fit for me, and remarked that our choices were too advanced for me and I was not good enough for them. It hurt my mother and me, but again we did not have much say in anything and we accepted it. However, the costumes that I wore were entirely always my mother's and my design. We would listen to my new program music for hours on end in the car and we would come up with a design. I must say I had always the most remarkable costumes and definitely one of a kind.

At ages eleven and twelve my most distinctive skating years would start. This would take my mother and me on roller coaster rides far scarier than you could imagine, and to distant places with trials and tribulations mentally and physically. Now, looking back, I tend to think that there was no way these times could have been possible to survive. Skating had now become not only my dream but my mother's as well, since skating is not a sport in which you can leave a child alone. It is not a sport a young child can get to alone. It is not a sport a young child can even practice on her or his own. There is no other way to succeed in this sport other than to have a whole team of people surrounding the skater who must also believe, want, and live that same dream.

And so the child feels that skating never belongs only to her. It belongs to all those involved, and for that she must work for not only herself but for all of them. Therefore we never fathomed what would come and even if we had, we would have not believed it. As it did unfold we did we not realize how serious and dangerous a world we were in until we lost it all. We definitely did not follow a path and we were leaving a trail and praying for it not to be followed.

(TOKYO)

Or is it a clouded window?
What you have in your mind, discard, but what is given in your fate, accept.

H
ow much is too much? How much is too little? Where is the balance? Is balance even a requirement in a sport that relies only on being extreme? Extreme with training, with mental and physical strength, with eating habits, and with patience and tolerance for all things. At least that's the way I had to do it, or maybe that is because I did something so intense instead of just taking the middle road and winning the gold. The gold medalist does stand in the middle of the podium, right? Does that signify anything? The champion has balanced both the right and left side and has come out on top. Maybe that is why I never became an Olympic gold medalist. I am not trying to downplay the medalist in any way shape or form. It is an amazing achievement, but I am just saying I know a lot of Olympic gold medalists and their training regimen was astonishingly much less harsh then mine.

Sometimes doing too much of something actually gives you an opposite effect. I don't see how I could have achieved my spinning by having balance in my life, as the training for it was to the tenth degree and every day I needed to spin faster and longer and more. It was a huge toll on my body, mentally and physically. I had to create such a vacuum around me so that I could create my spins. But isn't it odd that spinning is all about attaining balance on ice, yet I had none. Spinning for me did not just happen naturally, but it was a whole technique I had come up with. No one ever taught me how to spin. My mother helped me the most and my Japanese coach insisted I work on the basic spins, but as for the technique, I just figured it out myself. I knew I had to go faster to make my mother happy so there was no choice except to make it happen. I had to find a way and I don't think I really skated for me anymore. I wasn't in the equation. I would, however, have to pay the heavy price.

I did love school. I stood out here academically and artistically and as everyone always picks on the one that stands out, there was some trouble from other parents. But other than that school was wonderful for me and I could have stayed there all day. I truly loved studying. I loved tests and learning something new every day. I was curious about life. I received many awards for having the most A's in school. I was the lead actress in plays and would always have the main roles in dance class. We had fitness tests and I would always come in first.

I even dressed a little differently. We had uniforms but instead of a plain white shirt my mother would have me wear frilly white shirts with details. They were beautiful. Everyone remembers that about me. Yet I loved the Japanese school uniforms even more. They exuded such charm and innocence yet were flirty at the same time, and so on national school day I dressed up in a Japanese school outfit! I loved their backpacks and made sure my mother got me one too, but the American style textbooks were way too big compared to the little Japanese ones and nothing would ever fit in it! I would always have my hair in braids, or a French twist, or a ponytail, but my hair would never be let down. Ever! No matter what, I always strived to be the best, and following my father's advice I made sure that I was the only one to do what I was doing.

Festivals were great in Tokyo. Two of my favorites were the family festival at school and the New Year's celebration in the city. They both brought charm and excitement to me. The ringing in of the New Year was especially beautiful with all the Japanese lanterns burning lights of hope and faith and the festival at school was a day of fun with no responsibility. There was a Swiss stand and it felt like a little piece of my home would light a candle of joy in my heart. I have so wonderful memories of my school. It was heaven on earth and for me, the best school in the whole world.

I had so much love from my mother and father and I lived a beautiful life filled with everything I could have wanted — beautiful home, beautiful clothes, everything the best that both money and no money could buy. I was surrounded by luxury. But, and I cannot stress enough the “BUT,” I was not spoiled in a negative sense nor was I a spoiled brat at all. Things came with consequences. Even though skating destroyed so much in my life it also taught me so much. Maybe skating is what grounded me and taught me to work and to appreciate every luxury. I cannot think what my life would have been without skating because how can I be so arrogant to even think that I could know what it would have been. How could I be so arrogant to take such luxury to decide to change an incredible aspect of my life?

And maybe skating did save my life, by awakening me to see and feel things I would have otherwise never touched. Without skating I might have been that spoiled brat. In sorrow we discover things that really matter; we discover ourselves. Without sorrow there is no joy. Without water there are no trees. Without the rain we would not see the rainbow. Without the struggle we would never get to the top of the mountain and without the depths of the ocean we would not have the horizon. Only when we can lose sight of the shore will we have the courage to reach the other side. I feel skating and everything that came with it was my lesson and was the biggest lesson of all. Without it life might have been too easy and you never know how I might have taken advantage of it. Yes, I am thankful for skating, for what it gave, what it took, and ultimately what it presented me with.

At around twelve years old I began to participate in serious competitions and was winning them even outside of Japan. There was one competition I had in Switzerland where we met another Swiss girl who was skating in the exhibition. She was much older than I and was the Swiss champion at that time. Her spins were incredible, the fastest and most innovative back then. My mother loved her spins. She told my coach right away she just wanted me to stop skating then and there and to throw my skates away! She thought I would never have better spins than that! In fact, I would, but this girl had more going on than her spins. I remember seeing her in the restroom as she was scratching away at her scalp and nervously picking her skin on her fingers until she bled from every which place. The stress had caught up to her and my mother told me she hoped I would never get to that stage. Little did we know.

I was starting to have to travel to Switzerland a lot because as a Swiss citizen I was to compete internationally for them and had to pass their skating tests on top of the Japanese ones that I was already doing. I was up for the challenge and incredibly excited. It felt prestigious to be able to be in this sport. I was also going to start competing in the Swiss National Figure Skating Championships starting with the Junior level and then proceeding on to the Senior level. I would never become a Japanese citizen and so therefore I would never be able to compete for Japan, but the federation there loved me. I was the only skater that was so artistic and the only one in Japan who did such creative spins, especially the Biellmann spin.

In Japan whether in sports or in school, students are taught to copy, not to create, and although I was in their system I had been taught by my parents and at my international school to be creative. I was a different species from them and they were evaluating me non-stop. Therefore the federation wanted and allowed me to compete “out of competition” at the Japanese regional, sectional, and national levels. The Japanese federation wanted me to be present in order to push their own skaters to do what I was doing, and for me it was great practice. “Out of competition” meant that I would not take a spot away from any of the Japanese skaters. So even if I placed first, the second girl would actually be first.

The other skaters despised me for entering with them. Even the skaters my mother used to kindly give a lift home after evening practice, would bully me in the car saying I was a disgrace and it was so terrible of me to even be in Japan. They said I had taken away everything good from them and on and on they would talk. By now my Japanese was great and I understood everything. My mother, although understanding a little, didn't quite get all the nuances and I didn't say anything to her about what they told me. I just sat there and let the other skaters talk. It was their way of venting and as much as I tried to push away the hurt, it affected me internally very much. I wished I did not understand their language.

Maybe to some people it would become the drive do better but I am not that type of personality. Everyone deals with a situation differently, usually to the best of his or her ability, and for me it closed and shut me down. I am too sensitive, an over-analyzer, and being a fighter was not my thing. I would hide like a turtle. It must have been hard on my mother as well. She was the only foreigner at the rink and no other mothers dared talk to her in public for fear of losing face. They feared it would destroy their social status by talking to a so-called Alien. My mother was very alone, and not having my father around either to help out, she must have been going through a lot of anger and pain inside of her as well. Remember, it was only the two of us in our world.

Competitions were so exciting in Japan. There was all the preparing my mother and I did together, the rituals and superstitions, and I always couldn't wait to show the world what I could do. Whatever number I drew to skate, would be the number of times I would repeat all my exercises until the competition was over. My mother always did my hair in the most wonderful updos and I would be the only one with that style. I would show it off proudly. We also prayed together for good results and that I would skate my most possible best.

My mother especially, being a great believer in God, made sure that prayer was always incredibly important and poignant in my life from the time I was born. Whenever possible, Mass would be attended, and each morning, evening, and before a meal our prayers were always said. My evening prayers would always last at least ten minutes as I made them up myself, always somehow praying for everyone else but me, wishing for world peace and the happiness of my family. While I attended a Catholic school I would pass through the rites of Baptism, first Communion, and then Confirmation with much devotion to the higher power. To this day, prayer and God are always my constant vision. I am thankful for this and realize how important it truly is in one's life. Without it I would not have survived.

My mother always made sure I did not just get on the ice and do a program. I would need to tell a story and paint a picture on the ice, and my whole look from head to toe matched my music and story that I was telling. I was an actress and I absolutely loved it. It was like a world I went to and sold my emotions nakedly on the ice.

Before I went on the ice my mother gave me sheets of math questions that I would have to do in my head. There were always about one hundred of them, and as she corrected them, both her focus and mine would be on how many I got wrong, not how many I got right. I needed, not even wanted, but needed, to always be perfect. I would be totally disappointed in me if I got any wrong because then that would mean I might not skate well. The purpose was to get me to focus and concentrate and it did work wonders. Being in the zone was an amazing place to be and it made me skate perfectly.

My mother always did everything for me and she never did something for herself. Watching me skate was filling her cup of joy. After the competitions, the minute I stepped off the ice, I would be flooded with gifts from all the other skaters that overflowed in my tiny arms according to their custom. But there was always a gesture dance of refusing the gifts a couple of times to show your appreciation before accepting it. Timing in Japan was everything, in speech and in actions. Gift giving is a beautiful and necessary form of communication with rules of its own in Japan. It brings so much joy to the person who receives the numerous gifts, but they are never to be opened in presence of the giver, to save face just in case the receiver is disappointed. I remember coming back from international competitions with my suitcase filled with souvenirs that I would happily give out to all those that you were required to give to on returning home. There were rules of who needed to be given these gifts and they would be followed thoroughly.

At age twelve I won my first Swiss Junior National title. It qualified me and gave me the exciting honor to skate for Switzerland at the Junior World Championships. I later on competed at four more Junior Worlds, and after winning the Swiss Senior Nationals I went on to five Senior World Championships. The season would be filled with competitions all around the world as I also did the Grand Prix Circuits and European Figure Skating Championships. I had competitions in many different countries and I was so fortunate to be traveling the globe. I was going to exotic and far-away places that only my classmates could imagine. They hardly saw me anymore. I was more absent than ever, yet still getting all A's. I always said it was much more informative, challenging, and brain stimulating than any history class I could have taken. I would see and be immersed in many different cultures. It was an amazing life to lead. Even all the various airports were enthralling. I was becoming a world citizen.

Exercise was very prominent in my life and my mother and I had a fear that if I didn't do it constantly I would forget how to skate. I was terrified of that. So even during layovers at airports, and during the flight itself, I was never allowed to sit and rest. With my running shoes on I would run around in the airports for my jog, and in the plane I would do sit-ups and my mother would stretch me on the floors in the gangways on a towel we always had with us. It was so exciting to be at such a high level in my sport and to train so hard at it to see how good I could get. I do not want to make this book, however, about how I prepared for a competition, or how I was nervous before getting on the ice, or how I just wanted to have fun out there (or so other skaters say, not me).