Wisdom of the Last Farmer by David Mas Masumoto

Japanese immigrants have a different style for expressing pain.
They write about memories with utmost accuracies and details.

Chinese immigrants express pain with bold strokes. Pain and suffer are amplified, even celebrated and treasured as legacies. Chinese immigrants see pain as a necessary passage leading to wisdom and maturity. Even happiness must thrive from pain. Otherwise, it is not complete or valued.

Pain, loses, as well as pleasure in Japanese immigrants’ writings are expressed by descriptions of common even insignificant events such as tracing tracks on a field, or devouring of a peach by a toothless grandmother.

They fill it with such details that there are hardly any direct use of emotional words.

But they are, nevertheless, moving to the readers. They awoke a forgotten part of me. The part that holds high regards for the soil that produces what allowed the humans to flourish on this planet as well as for the farmers that work so hard on them.