By Akira
By now, I’ve lost count of the number of times friends and family have asked, “Hey, how’s your gap year going so far?” more times than I can count. At first, I’m tempted to just say, “It’s been great,” but honestly, it doesn’t do it justice.
The truth is, it was rough at first. It made me feel left behind seeing all my friends go off to college and begin new chapters of their lives. The place I had grown up in and called home for as long as I could remember no longer felt like the way it once did. But deep down, I knew I’d still miss it. The week before I left, everything felt sentimental. I found myself going for drives and taking in views I had grown so accustomed to, eating at restaurants I had once frequented with my friends, and playing fetch with my dog at her favorite park—all small ways of mentally preparing myself to leave the only home I had ever known. So, with a heavy heart, two suitcases, and a backpack, I hugged my parents and waved them goodbye as I was slowly swallowed by the sea of people at the airport.
As I made my way through the airport, I started missing the little things already: the way my mom would remind me to dress warmly, the way my dad would hold onto my stuff while I searched for my phone. Fast forward 15 hours later, I finally made my way to Japan. Nevertheless, I continued making my way toward the gate. As soon as I boarded the flight and found my seat, I fell straight asleep and rested from the long day. Eventually, I landed in Japan.
Once again, I was off to a rough start. I remember my first day, getting off the Seibu Shinjuku train, and feeling lost in this small yet crowded town that I soon began to recognize as my new home. Struggling to read the subway signs, deciphering the laundry machine instructions in Japanese, and struggling to ask employees for items I was looking for—I felt pretty defeated. However, that all changed the following day when the dormitory manager introduced me to someone my age. It turned out that he was the only other English speaker in our dormitory, and fortunately for me, he was also fluent in Japanese. I felt a huge wave of relief wash over me. From shopping for furniture in Tokorozawa to make my room feel more like home, to showing me his favorite hole-in-the-wall ramen shop, he opened my eyes to the side of Japan that social media fails to capture. As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, we became close friends. The unfamiliar scenery that overwhelmed me at first sight began to feel familiar, even comforting. I was finally at home.
So that brings me to the idea of home. I always thought of home as simply the place I lived and knew like the back of my hand. But after living in Japan and creating new experiences, I’ve realized that home is really the people within it. Even though I’m halfway across the world, it feels like home here—standing in crowded trains packed with salarymen on their way to work or hanging out with friends in our tiny rooms.
My biggest takeaway from the time I’ve spent in Japan so far isn’t just the memories I’ve made, but also the people I share them with. I’ll never forget wandering around flea markets and buying vintage t-shirts for less than a dollar or spontaneously hiking mountains with insufficient gear. Even when things didn’t go as planned, like the time when my friend and I missed the Shinkansen because we were too busy messing with the macaque monkeys in Shizuoka, there was never a dull moment. I know there’s only so much I can say about my time in Japan so far, but as the saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words. So, definitely check out the photos I took from all over Japan. Thanks for reading, and I can’t wait to share what happens next. In the meantime, I’ll be working on my iPhone photography skills.
Akira, signing off.
