３年前、3曲も選んでもらい、
何が行われるのかこの頃はよく把握できてなかった。
コロナ禍、とんでもないシカゴへの旅。
前日まで本当に飛行機乗れるのか？
シカゴに辿り着けるのか？
前日の検査判定が出るまでどうなるか
全くわからない状況。
いつ全面キャンセルとなるか諦めの覚悟と行くぞ！という思いと。
米到着後、日本との温度差にびっくり。
マスクは義務付けられていたけど、
ゆる〜〜。。日本のあれはなんだったの？
帰国後、再び温度差に適応するのは難儀だった。
３日間のホテル監禁の隔離生活おまけ付き。
帰国1日後にずれたら６日間の監禁、
刻一刻状況変化のギリセーフ。
空港で検査のため、空港内橋から端まで
歩いて歩いて歩いて歩かされて、
目の前に梅干しの絵が貼られた個々ブースに連れて行かれ、
規定唾液量が出なくて、死にそう。。
もうだめ、と持っていくと
「モチョト、ガムバテクダサイ！」と中国語訛りで追い立てられた。
隣のおっちゃん、
「昨日、酒飲んで、喉カラッカラで、で〜へんわ」
「それなら、鼻で」と違うブースに連行。
鼻あり？ならそう言ってよ。。
検査後、飛行機同乗者全員陰性判定出るま次に進めない。
空港からはバスに乗せられ、ミステリーツアーの始まり。
どこに拉致されるか、一切知らされない。
部屋から一歩も出られず、
弁当配給の際、
「すぐにドア前に置かれた弁当を取り入れてください」と
アナウンス
「生存確認となりますから」？！
隔離状況でオンラインでレッスン中、
中断の理由を生徒さんに告げる。
「ちょっとお弁当回収してくるね。
部屋で孤独⚪︎してないかと間違われるかね」
今では笑い話。
なんだったんだろう、、
１０年くらい昔の出来事のように感じるけど、
あの時の感覚は鮮明に覚えている。
ラッキーだったのは
学会会場でカウントベーシーのコンサートを
聞けたこと。（もちろん、学会費に含まれる）
ジャズのセッションが多い年だった。
リズムセクションのセッションは面白かった。
ドラムは、その時新しく変わったばかりの若いおにーちゃん。
大御所に囲まれ、大変やろう〜な〜。
繊細なドラマーさんだった。
昨年はパーカッション・アンサンブルが
フューチャーされていた。
日本ではあまり聞く機会のないアンサンブル。
意外に面白くて連れて行った姪は
すっかりハマってた。
無事卒論提出してシカゴへ向かった姪、
なんやらどうしても落とせない授業があるといって、
時差で真夜中にオンライン授業を受けてた。
半分くらい寝てたようだけど、、
そんな彼女も社会人。
国際報道で英語インタビューしてる。
頼もしい。
トラベルはトラブルと言われるように
色々トラブルがあった方が記憶に残って面白い。
今年も選んでいただき、３回目。
ありがとうございます。
い・き・た・い・なぁ。
シカゴ。
Three years ago, three of my works were selected,
but at the time, I didn’t fully grasp what was happening.
During the pandemic,
I embarked on an incredible journey to Chicago.
Up until the day before my flight, I wondered,
*Will I really be able to board the plane?
Will I even make it to Chicago?*
It was a situation where nothing was certain
until the test results came back the day before departure.
I constantly swung between feelings of resignation—
preparing for the possibility of everything being canceled—
and determination—*I’m going no matter what!*
After arriving in the U.S.,
I was stunned by the stark difference in attitudes
between Japan and America. Masks were required, but enforcement was so lax.
*What was all that strictness in Japan for?*
Coming back home,
it was difficult to adjust to the temperature shift in attitudes again.
And then there was the three-day hotel quarantine.
If I had arrived just one day later,
it would have been six days of isolation—
a situation that was changing by the hour.
I barely made it under the wire.
At the airport, we had to walk what felt
like the entire length of the terminal for testing.
I was taken to an individual booth
with a picture of a pickled plum (umeboshi)
stuck on the wall in front of me.
I was struggling to produce the required amount of saliva,
feeling utterly drained.
When I handed over my sample,
the staff, speaking with a Chinese accent, encouraged me,
*“Mo chotto, ganbatte kudasai!” (Just a little more, keep trying!).*
Next to me, an older man said,
*“I drank last night, my throat is bone dry, I can’t produce anything.”*
The staff escorted him to a different booth,
saying, *“If that’s the case, we’ll do the nasal test instead.”*
*What? Nasal testing was an option?
Why didn’t you say that earlier?*
After the test, we had to wait for negative results
for all passengers before moving forward.
From the airport, we were loaded onto buses,
starting a mystery tour to an undisclosed location.
Once at the quarantine facility,
I wasn’t allowed to leave my room, not even once.
When meal boxes were delivered,
an announcement instructed us to
*“immediately collect the bento box placed outside your door.
This will serve as a survival check.”*
What?! A survival check?!
While teaching online lessons during quarantine,
I had to explain to my students why there were interruptions.
*“Hang on, I need to grab my bento box.
If I don’t, they might think I’ve died alone in here.”*
It’s a funny story now, but at the time, it was surreal.
It feels like something that happened a decade ago,
but I still vividly remember the experience.
One fortunate highlight of the trip was attending
a Count Basie concert at the conference venue
(the concert was included in the conference fee).
That year featured a lot of jazz sessions,
and the rhythm section session was especially fascinating.
The drummer, a young newcomer who had just joined,
was surrounded by legendary musicians—
it must have been nerve-wracking for him.
But he was an incredibly sensitive and skilled player.
Last year, the conference showcased a percussion ensemble,
a rare opportunity to hear such a performance in Japan.
Surprisingly, it was captivating.
My niece, whom I had brought along, became completely hooked.
Having successfully submitted her thesis,
she joined me in Chicago,
though she had a class she couldn’t afford to fail.
She attended online lectures late at night
due to the time difference, half-asleep most of the time.
Now, that same niece is working as a journalist,
conducting interviews in English for international news.
She’s so reliable.
As the saying goes, *“Travel is trouble,”* and indeed,
the more mishaps there are,
the more memorable and entertaining the journey becomes.
This year, I’ve been selected again—for the third time.
Thank you so much.
I *really* want to go to Chicago again!
