He had worked as a truck driver in Japan that morning.
He had slept for only two hours.
Then he showered, changed, and came here.
I asked him if he was a hard worker.
“そうですね。”(I guess so.), he replied.
Then I asked him:
"If you could say one thing for Japan, what would you say?"
His answer stayed with me.
“I just want them to enjoy their private life.”
The conversation reminded me of something that Keiko Makikawa, founder of Bright Circle, a Filipino community in Nagoya, had shared with me the night before.
"We love Japan but too much hard work."
We had been talking about children growing up in Japan, and how sometimes they don't fully understand the struggles their parents go through.
“They are trying so hard to put food on the table,” she cotinued.
And sometimes, in trying so hard to provide a better life for their children, parents may lose precious time with them.
That made me think.
From the outside, hard work looks admirable.
Long hours. Sacrifice. Doing whatever it takes to build a better life.
But what happens when working for a better life leaves us with less time to actually live it?
I'm Japanese, and I've been living in the Philippines for almost three years, trying to understand a culture different from my own.
I thought I was learning to understand people through their food, their language, and their everyday lives.
But conversations like these remind me that understanding a culture goes beyond what we can see on the surface.
Sometimes, it means listening to the things people rarely get the chance to say.
I came into this conversation wanting to understand someone else's experience.
I left thinking about my own life, too.
What is all our hard work really for, if we don't have enough time to enjoy the life we're working so hard to build?
Still Learning.
Still Listening.
One conversation at a time.
Basically we are trying to level ... the Japanese level of like working the lifestyle and everything.
But doing that sometimes we forget about our children." — Keiko Makikawa, founder of Bright Circle
The night before, Ms.Keiko had said almost the same thing in different words. Two people. Two different lives. One sentence.
I came to understand someone else's experience, but two people, a night apart, left me asking about my own.
The truck driver. Real name unknown — I only know him by his Instagram username. He had driven a truck shift that morning and slept two hours. He is a member of Nagoya Filcom, a group I could only find through its Facebook page. At one point he offered to give me a T-shirt.
Keiko Makikawa. Founder of Bright Circle, a Filipino community in Nagoya. The same person I spoke with in the previous quest.
Still unconfirmed: Nagoya Filcom exists on Facebook, but who is actually in it?
| Date | October 11, 2026 |
|---|---|
| Location | Ikeda Park, Nagoya, Aichi |
| Event Type | October Fest at Ikeda Park in Sakae, Nagoya |
| Access Method | In-person conversation with a truck driver; earlier conversation with Keiko Makikawa, founder of Bright Circle |
| Food Featured | None |
| Cost to Attend | Free admission |
| Rarity | 🟨🟨⬜⬜⬜ — An unplanned conversation |
| Bayanihan Index | 🟨🟨🟨⬜⬜ — Generous with time and kindness (offered me a T-shirt) |
I still don't know whether what he and Keiko described belongs to the Filipino community in Japan, or to everyone who works here.
