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Last week I wrote about T’s grandfather’s funeral. In this post, I’ll be writing about the man himself.

I spent a week around Kunio Kasai two summers ago. The rice fields of Yamato, the little village where he lived with his wife, Hisaye, were lushly green, rippling lazily in the humidity. We didn’t talk much. My Japanese was limited to the basics. So beyond, “Good morning”, and “Thank you”, our communication was limited to laughter, smiles and offering and accepting food. It’s amazing how much can be communicated without words. In fact, interaction can be perhaps a little more profound, because of the simple, pared down beauty of non-verbality. Continue reading Kunio Kasai 1915-2007