More Than a Destination: Building a Relationship With Japan

It’s true. You will get fleeting glimpses of exquisite, kimono-clad maiko down narrow, old lanes. The night-time streetscapes are an eye-opening, jaw-dropping explosion of colour. The sakura and momiji in spring and autumn, respectively, are beautiful.

Japan is all of that, and I love those things too. But it’s so much more.

I first went to Japan when I was 22. I’m embarrassed to confess that it wasn’t my first choice – that was France (after a BA in European languages). But when I didn’t get accepted for an English teaching job there, a friend who’d done ‘study abroad’ in Japan, suggested I apply for the JET Programme. With pictures of geisha in my head, a taste for sushi, and absolutely no Japanese, I applied. I survived a panel interview and was accepted. 

Twenty-five years after leaving, in some ways, I feel like I’m just getting started. Image Credits -supplied

With my two years living and teaching in Karatsu City, in the southern prefecture of Saga, I thought I was gaining an in-depth experience of the country. And it was certainly a deeper experience than two weeks seeing the tourist hotspots of Kansai and Tokyo, for sure. Twenty-five years after leaving, in some ways, I feel like I’m just getting started.

My key take-away from that first two-year experience living in Saga Prefecture, teaching English in local senior high schools, was the humbling generosity, warmth and enthusiasm of Japanese people.

There was the day I was caught umbrella-less in a rainstorm on the way to a meeting, and a store-owner ran out and pressed hers into my hands to take with me. Or the scorching day I was walking with friends along one of Karatsu’s beaches and was plied with fresh watermelon slices by an old man and his mate. Or when, on my birthday, my colleague Naoko arrived at school for the day, with a chocolate cake with cream, so I didn’t feel homesick.

The experience also defined my perspectives in life and choices I’ve made. It cemented my cross-cultural interest and international outlook. It dislodged some of my smug English-speaking Western superiority, and gave me the ability to see the world from a different point of view. I think it also gave me an awareness and respect, as Japanese people have, for both the visible and less visible efforts of others in everyday life, and the value of acknowledging and thanking them for that. 

When I was there the first time, I was so young, less confident, contained in the expat bubble. I didn’t explore and try things as much as I should have done, but I’ve made up for it since. Image Credits - Supplied

When I returned to New Zealand after finally having my experience of living and working in France, I started my 20-year stint in the public sector and met lots of other JET Programme alumni. I was surprised that many had never gone back to Japan.

For me, I was never able to let go. I went back several times on my own, then twice with my partner, and we recently introduced our noodle-eating, Pikachu-mad daughter to Kyoto, Nara and Osaka. I’m glad to say she now also has the bug.

Along with adding those new layers of my family’s relationship with Japan, I’ve added new layers of my own individual connection to the culture. When I was there the first time, I was so young, less confident, contained in the expat bubble. I didn’t explore and try things as much as I should have done, but I’ve made up for it since (and have more on my list). 

With pictures of geisha in my head, a taste for sushi, and absolutely no Japanese, I applied. I survived a panel interview and was accepted. 

I’ve developed a full-blown addiction to green tea, and drink a whole pot to start the day. It’s a source of anxiety when I see that tea cannister getting empty. I’ve moved on from eating sushi and now prefer cooking the more hearty and rustic Japanese recipes, aided and abetted by Japanese recipe book writers like Namiko Hirasawa Chen. I’ve discovered sashiko, the Japanese embroidery style often using running stitches in white cotton thread on navy blue fabric, and a whole microcosm of Japanese YouTubers, employing myriad ways of making it easier for people around the world to learn to speak nihongo.

In 2025, my friend Naoko (she of the chocolate cake) came over to New Zealand with one of her daughters for the first time. It was a really significant event. It’s hard to get annual leave away from work in Japan.

Finally, after 25 years of swapping career news and tales of our kids’ exploits via handwritten letters or WhatsApp, I was able to show her Te Whanganui-a-Tara | Wellington. The view from Matairangi | Mt. Victoria, complete with wild weather, coffees and cake at Waitohi in Johnsonville, and a game of T20 cricket on the vast, green expanse (by Japanese standards) of Karori Park. I hope my welcome measured up to the warm, enthusiastic, and generous Japanese ones that’ve been extended to me over the years. 

Enjoy the relationship that develops, if you’re open to it. What lessons it can teach you over time. Image Credits - Supplied

So, go. Go to Japan. Or any other Asian country that takes your fancy, for that matter. But don’t stop at just the once. Enjoy the relationship that develops, if you’re open to it. What lessons it can teach you over time. Humility, or reciprocity, or the magic of forming human connections across cultures. And, be open to what you might be able to contribute too, not just the photo opportunities you’ll get.

I’m biased. But I think you’ll be glad you did.

-Asia Media Centre