Coming to Japan, the land of the rising sun, became a significant turning point in my life. Before coming to this island, one of my best friends who lived in Kyoto, said to me, “Japan leaves no one untouched”. In that moment, I didn’t quite understand what she meant, but the passing of time has helped me comprehend the meaning behind these wise words. I have spent my early adulthood in Japan contemplating my life as it grows with meaning day after day.

　Landing in Japan from a Latin American country was an experience filled with shock, not only cultural, but shock in every thinkable sense that the word connotes. As the romantic that I am, I came to Japan initially in search of the Japanese kokoro as depicted by Lady Murasaki forgetting that other Japan responsible for electronics and Candy Candy and Pokemon cartoons. The conciliation of the different images of Japan that I had in my mind and in my heart required my undivided attention during early mornings spent in contemplation. During my first few years in Japan, this country and its people revealed itself very slowly. Layer after layer unwinded. The Japanese kokoro laid too deep to be understood without the aid of time.

　When I first arrived in Japan and encountered the chaotic and at times kitsch city of Tokyo, I was not able to see these ideals that I had so much read about nor was I able to see that superb simple sense of beauty that Japanese people so carefully guarded. As foreigners, we often come to this country with the image of that classic Murasaki-like Japan only to find that indeed hundreds of years have passed and Japan has changed. The big cities no longer hold a wabi-sabi aesthetic feel but are rather crowded with sparkling neons. People living in Tokyo never seem to actually have time to observe, to feel present, on the contrary, they seem to always be in hurry and never have time for themselves. Seeing salary men spending their free time unloading stress by drinking a lot of beer, awakened compassion in me as I felt their loneliness and their need to escape. This was one face of Japan, but not the face that I wanted to learn from. I figured that by studying Japanese religion and philosophy perhaps I could find a more meaningful approach to life.

　It is in this manner that my admiration of the ideals voiced by Japanese Zen masters such as Dougen truly became more fervent as zazen helped me feel at ease with the loneliness I at times encountered in Japan being far away from my family. After studying zazen in Sojiji Temple all these years, I am capable now of feeling richness in the emptiness. This lesson could not have been learned anywhere else.

　I remember the first time I went to see my mother after having spent a year in Japan, she highly praised the changes she had seen in me. The words she used were “You have become more Zen”. At the time, I just laughed and didn’t pay too much attention to her comment, however, mothers seem to know about their kids what the kids themselves don’t know. I had indeed been contaminated with a more serene state of mind. However, I still felt conflict within myself. I was having an identity crisis.

　When I saw my first hanami, I was amazed by the fact that Japanese people where so excited about the blossoming of the sakura trees. After two years in Japan, I began to notice the blossoming of the ume flower, which I actually liked even more than the sakura because it advents the end of the winter and the coming of spring. Once the ume flowers in my backyard blossomed, I knew the winter was almost over. This second year, my mother came to Japan and had the opportunity of seeing the sakura in the spring in Kyoto, specifically in the tetsugaku no michi and in Miyajima. My mom confessed it was one of the most beautiful revelations of nature she has experienced in the past years of her life. We spoke about how Japanese people admire the ephemeral nature of the elements created by God as they appreciate the blossoming of such beautiful flowers and mourn that they will soon be gone. The philosophy of mono no aware is unique to ancient Japan and it is one of those things that no matter how much Japan can seem to change on the surface, it is still there, latent within the people of this country. On the other hand, Venezuela, my home country, does not have seasons; it is sunny all year round, causing the perception of time to be different. Therefore whenever I see the changing of the seasons in Japan, I think about the changing of time with acceptance and attention, letting go of the past and the thoughts of the future, to simply embrace the eternal present.

　Something so subtle but so important as the perception of time, triggered inside myself an identity crisis provoked by having come into to contact with Japanese culture, a culture so different from my own. I began to realize that values highly estimated within my culture are not necessarily highly estimated within Japanese culture. One of the few things that impressed me about Japanese people was their politeness. In my country we tend to be polite in a discriminating fashion, only to people we like, while on the other hand we tend to be more aggressive to those that we don’t like. Japanese indiscriminating politeness made me feel well liked as a foreigner, however, I soon realized that this politeness at times hides true feelings. Understanding honne and tatemae is probably one of the most difficult tasks any foreigner has to encounter. In Japan I have often felt that I have no idea what people are thinking when I talk to them, perhaps because it is not so common to show what you are feeling with facial expressions or perhaps because as foreigners we are not accustomed to reading this subtle facial language we encounter when landing in Japan. Japanese people seem to sustain more subtle codes of communication, where words do not hold importance, where perhaps actions speak louder than words, where consideration for others sometimes holds you back from expressing in a direct manner what you feel. On the contrary, Latin Americans tend to be very direct people who express themselves spontaneously, sometimes without realizing that their words could be affecting the listener’s feelings. In the eyes of a Japanese person this attitude could seem quite egotistical. Latins watch out for themselves more than for others, while in Japan people think about the other before they think about themselves. Although the Latin approach can be healthy to the mind it is not healthy to the other person. On the other hand, the Japanese approach can sometimes result in the unhealthy bottling of feelings and in gaman but at the same time demonstrates consideration, omoiyari or enryo.

　For example, in Caracas, the city where I was born, in order to survive you need to adapt yourself to the city’s chaotic atmosphere. It is a place where the Darwinist principle of “the most adapted, the most evolved survives” is materialized. At times you find yourself angry because someone has cut in front of you while cueing to go to the bank or to go to the bathroom. You need to stay awake and be aware of your surrounding because rules are easily broken. On the other hand, in Japan if you break a rule you turn into a pariah. In Venezuela if you break rules to get what you want, you are considered socially smart.

　When encountering a society as an outsider there are always things that you see that people immersed in the same society to do not see so clearly. Seeing Venezuela from Japan has given me another perspective on my own culture the same way that seeing Japan as an outsider has. I believe that all Venezuelans need some Japaneseness and all Japanese need some Venezuelaness. Work ethics differ from country to country. For example, Japanese people have stern work ethics while Venezuelans believe that life doesn’t have meaning if you are always working and don’t set aside enough time for fun. Venezuelans are constantly in need to communicate what they feel, Japanese people often don’t. At the same time, Venezuelans don’t always listen because they are always talking while Japanese people are avid listeners. These are the times when I think that making a balance between these opposite characteristics has given me an understanding of who I am and who I want to be.

　When I have parties at home and invite my Japanese friends and Latin American friends over, my Japanese friends are always thrilled to see how Latinos behave at parties. Their warmness, openness, the dancing of salsa and merengue are some of the things that fascinate them. My Japanese friends feel embarrassed at first but soon find themselves saying hello to everyone by kissing them on the cheek and not hesitating to touch each other fondly. In Japanese society body contact is not as well seen as it is in Latin American societies where we are constantly touching, holding hands and hugging those people we love. It does not mean that Japanese people do not love in the same manner but there is clearly a difference in the way these feelings are exteriorized. In my country, we find console in saying to each other that we love each other quite often. I have heard from my Japanese friends that they find it strange that I say to my mom I love her every time I talk to her on the phone. I simply respond that it is natural for me to let my mom know that I miss her and that I love her specially now that I am so far from her and I don’t know what circumstances tomorrow may bring. I also love to hear sweet words from her. In Japan, when my homestay family says to me, “Irechan ni aitai”, I know that this is their way of saying that they miss me and they want to see me soon. When I visit them and find they have prepared for me special Japanese dishes, I know their way of expressing warmness and showing they are fond of me is by spoiling me.

　All the differences between my own country and Japan have served to give me a broader perspective on the different values of each culture. Although we are living amidst a civilization on the verge of globalization, this concept seems to apply to our physical bodies only. We are able to be transported from country to country and exchange different cultural, food and clothes products, however, in our heads, we still feel intimately close to those values bred in our own culture and hold them as truths. It is not until we encounter a culture different from ours and observe these new values that we realize we are being offered the opportunity to embrace new values. It is in this manner, that I came to Japan and began to walk on the path of auto-contemplation by questioning the values of my own society and absorbing from Japanese those values that I admired. I began to learn patience, tolerance, gaman, humbleness, a stern work ethics, punctuality, consideration for others, selflessness and learned that not necessarily my own opinion is the only opinion and that imposing myself to be the center of attention is not as positive as I used to think. There are moments for embracing silence and not speaking out loud. There are moments for expressing ourselves in a subtle and delicate manner. There are moments where actions speak louder than words. There are moments when it is beautiful to watch a sunset in silence. These things I have learned in Japan.

　No matter how many years have passed since the last samurai cried out loud protecting the uniqueness and purity of Japanese culture, after living here I happily realize that these values are still present in today’s modern life, like an underlying river current underneath an agitated surface. I have to admit, however, that I feel the omnipresence of these values the most when I interact with older people. They are proud of their values and have embraced them sincerely.

　I am grateful that my stay in Japan motivated my inward journey; for it is here that I have found my treasure, it is here where I have found myself. In Japan, I learned what I lacked. Japanese culture being opposite from my own culture served as a complement to who I am. I grew as a person and began to walk on the hito no michi liberated from fears. Taking the best from my own culture and from Japanese culture, I feel I have found a harmonious balance. What began as an identity crisis turned out to be one of the most valuable lessons I have learned in my 29 years of life. My initial fear of coming ﾐliterallyﾐ to the other side of the world has dissipated because I have found in Japan my third home, after Venezuela and the United States, where I grew up.

　The country that cradled Zen Buddhism gave me the unique opportunity to come closer to this religion, philosophy and way of life, to study the way of tea, aikido and other arts unique only to Japan. Being between two cultures has become a challenge. I have grown quite a bit in the past five years and have realized how we as human beings can be strongly molded depending on the society we grow up in. The beauty of traveling and experimenting with other cultures has given me the opportunity to realize that the only truth is love and understanding. And it is with these eyes today that I embrace Japan and thank this island and its people for all the knowledge they have provided in the past years of my life. I know I will always look back at Nihon with a nostalgic heart filled with admiration as a place where I found my treasure, as a place where I lived wonderful, joyful, fearful and lonely moments but at the end it all amounted to who I am today. I am thankful for having learned that heart, soul and mind are all the same and if we approach our inner essence with honesty we will be able to be happy and share this happiness with others.