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These are the places I've called home.

I was born 18 November 1964 in Chicago, Illinois and spent the first 14 1/2 years of my life in the Chicago area. Chicago, Berwyn, Orland Park, and Woodstock  were all places I called home. My memories of Chicago are those of a child. I remember spending what seemed to be the entire night going from door to door asking for candy on Halloween. I remember exploring the world on my bicycle -- each year going just a bit farther than before. I remember the outings to parks, museums, zoos, malls from LaSalle to Milwaukee. I remember snow -- lots of snow -- and summertime where you never did dry off. But my most treasured memories are crickets and lightening bugs and an evening playing in the sand at Evanston Beach on Lake Michigan.

Unfortunately, there are too many other memories of this city that I'd sooner forget. But unlike the family that I left behind, the memories came with me. They will always be with me. Most of them are related to my mother's illness or to the battle between her mother and my father. I don't think they ever agreed on anything and I'm sure that was doubly so if I was involved.

My parents divorced when I was in Kindergarden. I went to live with my mother, her brother, their mother and her second husband. With two of the five dying of Huntington's Disease, it was a stressful situation. As my mother's illness progressed, it was decided that I should go live with my father and his second wife. They were starting on their own family and the tension, especially between my father and I, was fierce. My mother died in 1976 while her brother had died the year before. A couple of years later, my grandmother's husband was diagnosed with cancer and left for treatment in Texas.

My grandmother finally convinced him to move to New Mexico where she would join him. She sold her home in Chicago and she and my aunt drove through the night. Three dogs, a cat, and I were passengers. After 20-some hours, all we could do was get some food and a hotel room. The next morning we were on our way to the hospital, but we got there a couple of minutes too late.

My aunt left a couple of days later and I stayed about a week. My Gran decided that she had already made the trip, so there was no reason to go back. Luckily she had a couple of friends in Roswell.

With my grandmother in Roswell, there were no more weekend visits. No more weekends out of my father's house. I don't think anyone was happy that year. Then I made my first REALLY BIG decision. During a vacation to my Grandmother's home during the summer of 1979, I decided that I was going to stay in the Southwest.

Absolutely the most IMPORTANT link to Chicago! The Art Institute of Chicago.

And what must be the link to the most important business in my life. My Grandfather was President of the Board of Trade Clearing Corporation. My Father's only real job was a Commodities Broker in the Soy Bean Oil Futures Pit. Yes, the The Chicago Board of Trade  has had a major impact on the lives of my family.

Here is one more Chicago link worth checking out. Exploring Chicago

So, at age 14 I started my sophomore year at Robert H Goddard Senior High School in Roswell. That fall I took Driver's Ed and got my license shortly after turning 15. I took every chance I could to explore. Some nights I would just point the car in a direction and see where the road took me. I was also something of an overachiever at school and needed the car so that I could take part in activities like Student Council. I founded the Speech & Debate Team and worked diligently on the both the school newspaper and yearbook. I worked with first and second graders at the neighboring elementary school. I also joined a mock legislature group and ended up sitting in the chamber or the New Mexico House of Representatives in Sante Fe for a couple of days.

I also convinced my grandmother that what I really needed to do was take a computer programming class at New Mexico Military Institute. (We didn't have computers at school, at least not for us to use, in the early 1980's.) So I learned the basics of Basic. I guess you can trace this page back to that class if you like. After all, that was the start of a lifetime at the keyboard. By 1985 I convinced her that all I needed was my own computer. A beautiful 8088 with a 20-meg hard drive and monochrome monitor.

But that is besides the point. I couldn't wait to leave Roswell. I wanted to get out and see the big world. I wanted to go to the city. I didn't really care which one. Fort Worth would have been great, but Albuquerque or El Paso would have to do. We always joked, You know what the most beautiful sight in the whole world is? Roswell in your rear view mirror! But then the offer to become a Rotary Exchange student came along...

Still today, New Mexico remains a part of my spirit, though I don't want to live there permanently. I often find myself wanting to return from time to time for a quick recharge. Especially when Portland is cold, wet, and rainy. If I ever have the pleasure of being a snowbird, I can see myself on some mountainside in Catron County...

Unfortunately, Roswell is most famous for something that "didn't" happen in 1947. Visit International UFO Museum, uh huh, to find out more.

Roswell has more to it than Alien stories. Check out Roswell-USA Home Page.

I invite you to visit this one to see some of New Mexico's unparalleled beauty. A photo tour of New Mexico.

Here is another New Mexico link: New Mexico - Land of Hot Sun and Hotter Chile.

Shortly after graduating in 1982, I headed off for the realization of my childhood dream. Ever since I could remember, I wanted to be an exchange student. It didn't matter where I was headed, I just wanted to go. And so, I found myself in Cape Town, South Africa. Well, actually a suburb called Fish Hoek (Vishoek).

I attended the local English-medium high school and made friends with whom I would play cricket with on the beach. When we got tired of that, we would go swimming or walk around and talk. I also found that I enjoyed playing squash, but like most sports and me, that didn't last.

I used to explore quite frequently there as well. I regularly took the train to Cape Town and I must have wandered around most stations in between. This is where I developed my penchant for day-long walks. And, of course, I found many new people to talk to and learn from.

But this was the "old South Africa." There were places for people like me and that's where I went. After all, they were the clean, nice, Western-style places like home. That is where I was comfortable. It was natural then that I only consorted with those of my race. Except one day when I ran into a Coloured guy in the more remote section of Fish Hoek beach. It could have been unpleasant if we were found, but we just sat between a couple of dunes talking. His English wasn't so hot and that was that.

I did get to visit a high school for Xhosa kids once in one of the Black Townships. And that is where I first really understood that there is a difference between the have's and have not's. There were many things they didn't have, but the most important was access to a quality education. Of course that is a function of racism and probably the most effective form of oppression, but now I see that it is also a function of classism.

White South Africans were aware that something would have to change. The debate was on how to do it and convince everyone that it would work. They didn't want to see the country follow in the path of Zimbabwe. They were painfully aware that the rest of the world was pointing fingers at them. That's why I'll never forget when they pointed a finger at the picture in an American newsmagazine. The article was about Harold Washington running for mayor of Chicago and ex-Mayor Jane Byrne saying she would run as an independent so that "white democrats would have someone to vote for." The picture was of graffiti saying something about "no nigger mayor in Chicago."

Yes, I would like to go back to see how much things have changed. I fear they haven't changed that much here.

Here's an interesting link to Cape Town:

	Cape Metro Tourism.
	Or learn a little about Cape Town.

Then it was off to The University of Texas at El Paso. Initially I studied Political Science with a vision of law school and a career in politics. But a number of reasons lead to my dropping out and I began to set up my home in El Paso. I got a job as a teller at the savings & loan where I banked. A year later I returned to UTEP to study Commercial Bank Management and ended up working at a local bank.

El Paso is a wonderful place, but it takes a while to get to know it. And it seemed the more I knew it, the less I liked it. I've met more than one person who made a crack like, "I spent a week in El Paso one night." I guess that is their way of saying they found it boring, but I guess that is only because they didn't explore it the way I did.

Of course to really get to know El Paso you have to learn both its languages. For if you only know one, half the city always seems to be closed to you. You will always be something of a tourist no matter if you are Anglo or Hispanic.

I think El Paso's biggest problem is, besides not having enough water, being part of Texas. Physically it is closer to Phoenix than Houston or Dallas. Spiritually it is nearer New Mexico or Chihuahua. Mentally, it is usually closer to, lets say, catatonic. And emotionally, it's unto its own. There has been a movement for a number of years to join New Mexico where it would be the primate city. But of course this will never happen.

So how did it affect me? Probably most importantly, most of the people I associated with were Hispanic, many were Mexican nationals. So this is where I learned to use a second language. This is also where I really started to move away from my American upbringing and where I started to develop a stronger sense of social and environmental awareness. My first Earth Day was at UTEP and that's when I made the pledge to begin recycling everything I could.

But the people around me could have cared less. I used to say the only way to get El Pasoans to think about nuclear weapons it to drop one in their yard. That, coupled with the knowledge that my career was not going any place lead to me think about moving. And so I started to remember a dream I had once had...

Here are two other links to El Paso:

Explore El Paso, Juarez and Las Cruces.

El Paso County Historical Society.

Since high school I wanted to go to the Pacific Northwest. Originally my eyes were set on Puget Sound and I had already been to Seattle twice prior. However, by 1989, Seattle was already an "in" place and jobs and housing were getting scarce. On my first trip to Seattle, I came through Portland and remembered it being a nice place. I investigated it further. In 1990, I headed off on my own Oregon Trail and settled in Portland. This is where I am today. But more on that below...

Oregon is not an easy place for the out-of-towner to get established -- especially if you're a Californian -- unless you're a bank or technology company. There is an inherent mistrust of newcomers and the general feeling is "let's see how long this one lasts!" I wonder, "Has it always been this way?" But there isn't any part of the country I'd rather live in. So I stayed.

Portland has been my home since 1990. For a while I had a consulting business with my partner Oscar. To help the business grow, I went off to Salem for Grad School. However, after taking a major hit to the pocket book, I decided that wasn't the place for me. So I left. But another dream had infected me...

You can spend considerably less money by visiting the Atkinson Graduate School of Management this way. It's part of Willamette University.

During my first semester at Atkinson GSM, I shared a dorm room with a Japanese businessman. I also tutored him and some of his coworkers in Marketing. We spent quite a bit of time getting to know one another and we talked about our homelands. Even though I was convinced the crowds would force a panic attack, I started to grow interested in going there some day.

In May of 1993, I saw an ad for an English conversation school in Japan. I applied, was offered a job, and I headed across the Pacific in August for what has truly been my most profound life experience. For 16 months I taught English in Chiba-shi. I can't say enough bad about the company I worked for, but my friends made up for it. Why not check out their pictures in the Japanese Friends Room of my gallery.

"How did you like living in Japan?" I am often asked. Well, I loved it. And I hated it. When everything is an adventure how can you feel otherwise? Many a more adept author than I has expounded on this land of boundless contradictions, so why should I belabor the point? But keep these items in mind: I'm an unrepentant xenophile, but I like to sit (not squat) when I gotta go. I love wandering and discovering new things, but I like to be able to read the signs (let alone understand them).

How did it change me? I don't know if I can explain it, but let's just say that maybe I didn't really change. Maybe I just discovered more of who I am as a man, as a human, as an American, and as one who is not really American. But I learned what matters most to me in life. As strange as it sounds, the four things I missed most were, in order of importance: my computer, my dog, my language, and greenspaces.

Here are some links to Japan:

Visit Chiba-shi, the city I called home.

Or see a little of the surrounding area. Chiba-ken.

Or maybe you would like to learn more about the country? Then try JNTO

I returned to Portland in December 1994 and I have worked to rebuild my life. That brings me to My Present. Or, to find out more about the things I like, visit Xian Jiro's Favourite Things.

Visit My Present.

Would you like to know about some of the places I have visited on vacation? Then check out XianJiro's Past - Page 2.

This page updated 7 November 1998. All graphics and photos "borrowed" from other sources except for the following : Japan Icon: XianJiro original art.