Japanese Study Abroad Opportunities
By Susan Schmidt, Executive Director of the Association of Teachers of Japanese

Japan is one of the most fascinating countries on earth: its ultra-modern, high-tech exterior overlays a society with rich cultural and aesthetic traditions going back centuries. In the twenty-first century, its "soft power" - economic might combined with an influential popular culture of manga graphic novels and anime animated films - attracts people from all over the world to its shores.

Japan has become one of the most popular destinations for study abroad: in 2003, more than 3,500 undergraduates from the United States spent a semester or a year studying at dozens of Japanese universities or at programs in Japan run by American universities or study centers. Drawn by an interest in Japan's popular culture as well as its older traditions and its advanced science and engineering schools, most U.S. students who make the decision to study abroad in Japan spend at least 6 months in-country. The results are clear: students who study abroad in Japan show remarkable progress in mastering a difficult language, learn about JapanŐs society and culture both inside and outside the classroom, and make strong connections with their host country that often influence their career choices and paths in life.

Study programs in Japan range from big university campuses in bustling downtown Tokyo to intimate study centers in rural areas: the courses offered include both Japanese language instruction and classes in English on subjects ranging from biology and engineering to art and film studies. Some programs offer internships or field placements in companies and organizations that allow students to become part of Japanese society for a few months. Special programs like Temple University Japan's semester-long focus on Japanese architecture, Antioch College's Japanese Buddhist studies course, and IES Tokyo's field-placement-based unit on Japanese social patterns allow students to pursue special interests in depth.

The Association of Teachers of Japanese Bridging Project (http://www.colorado.edu/ealc/atj/Bridging/abroad.html) is a portal to information on study abroad in Japan, programs at dozens of Japanese universities, and directions to sources of financial aid for study in Japan. The Bridging Scholarships, awarded to more than 100 students annually from all over the United States, provide not only funding but chances for scholarship recipients to meet members of the business and cultural communities in Japan.

Two recipients of Bridging Scholarships write about their experiences in Japan. Katherine Bishop is an English major from Harvard University who studied for one year at the Kyoto Center for Japanese Studies; Loren Eaton is an anthropology major from Oklahoma Baptist University who attended Seinan Gakuin University in Tokyo.

An Article on studying in Japan by Katherine Bishop, Bridging Scholarship Recipient, 2003-2004, April 27, 2004
In some ways, this essay is harder to write than any of the term papers I turned in a couple weeks ago. I could try forever to explain (what appeared to me to be) the contradictions of Japanese culture, the difficulty of the language, the unique atmosphere of Kyoto - in short, the essence of my experience - and never finish. Rather than write a few short and consequently uninformative sentences on each subject, I have decided to present two memories that embody the rewarding, saddening, and surprising aspects of my year abroad.

The first of the events I would like to describe occurred at the beginning of the school year. In order to encourage us to talk in Japanese with people not affiliated with our school our language class assigned projects where we would interview people on the street. The first topic was food. Rather than follow our classmates' example and find students at local universities to interview or enlist the help of our host families, we decided to interview the people living in cardboard boxes under the bridges downtown. I was reluctant about this plan because I thought they might feel "used". I was very pleased to be entirely mistaken. Everyone we approached answered our questions readily, even posing for pictures with us. Some of their responses were very surprising. For example, contrary to our expectations, many of them had jobs. More than discussing food budgets with homeless men, I will remember how some people we interviewed gave us their umbrella because they were "afraid we might catch a cold". I still cannot believe their generosity. We were two (relatively) rich kids with a digital camera and a cushy meal allowance from school, and yet they gave us their umbrella. For the record, we attempted to give it back, pay for it, and even "forget" it, but to no avail. The Japanese homeless are not only kind; they are tenacious.

My second memory is less light-hearted than the first, but perhaps more informative. It concerns my host mother who is one of the more traditionally minded Japanese people I met during my stay. Technically (and she would insist I give this clarification in order to avoid any undeserved credit) she was not really my host mother as I cooked for myself and lived in a separate wing with my own kitchen and bathroom. In all other respects, she was my host mother and more. She took me and my roommate on outings, taught me calligraphy, helped me locate people to interview for projects, bought me medicine when I got a mild case of frostbite, and, most importantly, had long conversations with me about everything imaginable, I think I learned the most about attitudes and culture through listening to her talk. One night she came over to my wing of the house to tell me that she was thinking of buying a new butsudan, or family altar. At the time, her current one was over 100 years old. It was, in my opinion, a magnificent piece of art. Unlike other butsudan, it was extremely large, even taller than me, and my host mother cleaned it faithfully so that it was hardly shabby with age. Every month a priest came to pray in front of it and she burned incense each morning. I couldn't imagine anyone observing tradition more properly than her. When I asked what would happen to the old butsudan she casually said she would throw it away. I was horrified. How could you throw away something with such a history and emotional, not to mention religious, significance? I begged her to keep it, but she told me that she could practically hear the ghosts of her husband's ancestors complaining that she was not treating them correctly by keeping them in an old altar. Furthermore, she did not want to leave a burden for her sons when she died. If she did not replace it, the responsibility would fall to her sons and their wives and they would resent it. That reference saddened me because I was often struck by how inconsiderately her sons treated her. Whenever I asked her if she expected her sons and their wives to do the same things for her that she was doing for her husband's parents, she always said without any bitterness that no, she did not expect any help because "it's a different age now." I couldn't imagine them being any more attentive toward her altar than they were toward her living person. The conversations about the butsudan really capture, in my opinion, the gap between generations in Japan. Additionally, they confirm to me that despite the opinions of my language instructors, there are truly religious Japanese out there. My host mother is one of them. By the way, she bought the new butsudan and threw away her old one.

My parents say it, my friends say it, my teachers say it, and I wholeheartedly believe it - studying abroad in Kyoto was the best thing that ever happened to me. That is not to say my time abroad was fun and easy. My limited understanding of customs put me in embarrassing situations and at first I found it very difficult to understand certain values, especially those held by the older generate. I adapted to a lot of customs and ways of thinking, eventually adopting many of them despite my previous ideas. For example, before studying calligraphy with my host mother, I thought it sounded like the dullest activity ever. "What is so great about a few messy brush strokes?" I wondered. Now I know. I also appreciate the values of simplicity, understatement and thrift much more than I did before. However, tea ceremony still bores me, I do not attach much importance to conformity to social norms, and I doubt I will ever understand the appeal of oden.

Growing up in the Southern part of the United States, and never living abroad before, I had a lot to leam in the beginning. I was challenged and pushed to my limits, but in the end I was thankful for the growth that it brought about. From the beginnings of culture shock and going crazy every time I heard the music of the crosswalks, to the end of my stay, walking in a Zen garden and being able to appreciate every stone and flower; I feel that every day, I learned something new about life itself.

Living in a dorm with other students from China, Korea, France, America, and of course Japan was truly a wonderful experience. Making French crepes, Korean kim-chi, Chinese noodles and American apple pie always made for interesting meals! It was truly a learning experience to communicate with others and get a glimpse of their culture and background while sharing an experience of living in a country that is not our own. Each culture has its own unique qualities and differences which can be quite frustrating at times when there are clashes between expectations, but can also be an incredible learning experience. You learn to think outside the categories of what one "should" or "should not" do. It breaks your paradigm of the "rules of life" that your own culture influences, and allows you to open up to new ways of thinking. Going to karaoke, izakaiya and to the beach with each other was so much fun, and always provided an interesting experience!! Living in the dorm, we were able to support each other and to share our experiences, both good and bad.

One of my favorite places in all of Japan was the market street near where I lived. I would walk down it almost every day, to get coffee, buy my groceries or sometimes just to go. It was always full of people, with old women and their flower carts, or old men selling fish. There, you could find a pachinko parlor next to a vegetable stand, with a shoe store across the street. Moms pedaling their bikes with children in the basket, salary men on their way to their jobs, young couples walking their dressed-up dogs, and sometimes beautiful women in kimono buying flowers for that evening. I miss walking down that street and seeing so much of the culture in an area so concentrated. Market street was my favorite place in Japan, with all of the noises and sights.

The best advice that I received was when I first arrived. One of the professors at the university I attended, in a warning to the international students, said, "Don't expect things to be done the same way as in your country." It seemed like such an obvious statement, and something so simple. But through the course of my time there, I learned how valuable that lesson was. Things are different, and what a wonderful thing it is! Life is not the same for each person; it is dynamic. It changes us and forms us in ways that we could never dream of. Every experience in Japan allowed me to learn something new. I just had to open my mind and heart.

Japanese life has so many intricate, beautiful parts, and I am so thankful that I was able to take part in them. From kabuki to tako-yaki, every part is a piece of Japan that I will treasure. I am truly thankful for the experience, and would go again in a heartbeat. It is amazing what thousands of miles will do for your perspective. Thank you for being a part of my experience there, and for so generously donating financial support.