“You’re only in Japan twice,” I kept saying to myself every time I stretched my pockets a bit beyond what my stomach could hold during our summer travels in Japan. I still remember the excitement tingling in my stomach as I romanticized my arrival in Tokyo for the first time back in January as part of a research opportunity (more on that later). When my plane touched down, I was blasting “Tokyo” by Owl City in my ears, a nostalgic song I used to listen to back when I was in fifth grade and first getting acquainted with English songs. Little did I know, I would be back in this country in just a little over six months when my parents unexpectedly planned Japan as our family trip for the summer.
I feel like the experience of going to any foreign country for a second time can be described as something similar to being a sophomore in college. Let me explain. When you’re a freshman, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by everything new, while things on campus are still bright and shiny. You’re born anew, starting fresh and discovering who you are for the first time. I think returning to college as a sophomore can be described as a new experience in and of itself. You get to see for the first time what campus life is like as a non-newcomer. Maybe you can extend this argument to other years (for example, it would be your first time returning to campus for the third time as a junior), but in my opinion, sophomore year in college is special because of that first-time experience of being a non-freshman.
So when I came to Japan for a second time, I was experiencing it differently. This time, I wasn’t trying to figure things out as much because everything already felt familiar. As such, I enjoyed my travels in a different way than the rest of my family. I guess, though, to tell you how I felt during my “sophomore” time in Japan, I’d have to first catch you up on my experience as a “freshman,” just six months ago…
As a Fellow in the SNF Paideia Program, back in January, I was graciously offered travel funds to explore Japan from a healthcare/bioengineering perspective with my roommate who is also in the Program. I was planning to visit sites like Miraikan (National Museum of Emerging Science and Innovation) and the University of Tokyo as part of our tentative itinerary. Because it was my first time abroad other than Korea (where I was born), I looked forward to this opportunity very much. The wanderlust of being an immigrant has never left me — I feel that I am always seeking the next travel experience or opportunity to meet foreigners while learning new languages.
When the time finally came and the wheels of the plane touched down on the runway of Haneda Airport, I remember feeling a bit confused as to why I wasn’t as excited as I thought I would be, given the above and the fact that I had a year of teaching myself Japanese during my senior year of high school. Despite this, I couldn’t help but feel awestruck at what I experienced in Tokyo that first day. Yes, everything was new and shiny. My first impressions of Japan, as written in my journal: “Beautiful, exotic? Just so interesting to watch people. It feels unreal. I’m fascinated by observing… just observing.” Our first night, we went into a yakitori hole-in-the-wall in a small alleyway underneath the train tracks of Shinjuku station. In the middle of the icy winter air, it seemed so dreamy. When we returned to our Airbnb, my lungs filled with yakitori smoke and my thoughts clouded with jetlag, I felt like Tokyo was the city of lights…
Throughout the next week and a half, we spent our time in Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka, Nara, Himeji, and Hiroshima. Some things I felt both on my first trip and most recent trip to Japan is the pressure to conform, the fear of offending someone, and being painfully aware of looking like a tourist (I’m the wrong type of Asian in this country, AND I speak English…). I was also frustrated at my inability to speak Japanese (which was to be expected – I mean, that’s what we’re supposed to feel as foreigners, right?), but more so at my inability to let go of my ego to at least try. So much of language learning is about humility, releasing the pride and fear associated with surrendering your mother tongue for an unfamiliar one.
Beyond noticing the squeaky-clean subway lines and the very orderly society I saw in Japan, I unexpectedly had time to reflect about my Korean-American identity in the context of being in Japan. My roommate (also Korean-American) and I had multiple conversations spanning this topic. Visiting sites like the Osaka Castle museum, which touched on some of the history of Japanese colonial rule over Korea, and Tokyo Tower (apparently the metal they used to build the tower was repurposed from tanks used in the Korean War), provided spaces for these conversations to happen. What do Japan-Korea relations mean in the context of a historic tragedy and unforgettable generational scarring? How, if it is at all possible, can the traumatic experience of older generations in a Korea recovering from post-colonial Japanese rule be reconciled with positive attitudes of younger generations? I am still wrestling with these questions in my head, and I don’t know the nuances enough to answer them for myself just yet. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t uncomfortable sitting with these thoughts, but I found that challenging myself to do so was a part of practicing the act of mentally stepping outside of my comfort zone.
Looking back, I still find it so funny how I came to Japan expecting to analyze and learn in an “academically experiential” way, but left feeling more whole — more curious about people, how I see myself in this world, and how it connects to me. What is experiential learning? It’s living. To be honest, this blogpost doesn’t do justice to the amount of reflections I had, but if I had to give one takeaway from my two trips to Japan in one year, I would say Japan sparked in me a deep curiosity for the people and the world around me, a desire to continue exploring beyond the touristy things and the busyness of travel. Who are you? What’s your backstory? Where are you coming from, and how do I meet you in the middle? I fell in love with humanity on a different level. Yes, I am only in Japan twice, but I live only once; perhaps it’s time for me to carry out this living through my love for people in my day-to-day life.
Yerahm Hong (BE’26) is an SNF Paideia Fellow and is majoring in Bioengineering in the School of Engineering and Applied Science.
