小確幸 - a small, but certain happiness

 小さいけど確かな幸せ (chiisai kedo tashika na shiawase), or 小確幸 (shoukakkou) for short, is a term coined by famous writer Haruki Murakami to describe small moments of happiness. In the midst of my busy schedule with TOMODACHI, I found times that made my breath stop for a short moment: 

At the Tokyo Metropolitan Observatory, I looked down at the hundreds of buildings that spread farther than my mind could comprehend. I stood alone with families and couples taking photos beside me as my thoughts wandered to the sort of lives the people in those buildings led. I was people watching from above, feeling like a bird who had always wanted to be human. 

In that moment, my chest was struck with a familiar chord of an instrument I could not play, but loved dearly. There was a young person who wore a black trench coat that covered his frame, making the deep blonde strands of his hair standout. His body rocked back and forth in tune with the keys he played on the piano, a motion that was calculated yet natural. Raw talent. I watched people of all sorts of ages and backgrounds slowly gather around him, drawn together by a gorgeous arrangement. Soon, I too followed the music that wafted throughout the observatory and stood there, behind the crowd, with my eyes closed and smiled wide. 

It was a song from the Japanese band backnumber but I couldn’t put my finger on the name of it (I looked it up later, however, the song was "Happy End". Definitely recommend for the feels). Nonetheless, I felt every emotion of the composition flow through me, making my heart ache at the sadness of the notes.

What a human thing it is. To not understand, but to love anyways. 

My friend tapped me on the shoulder and pointed excitedly at the sky. We were in the countryside of Japan, less cars, less people, more connection to the nature we shared a space with. A visible coexistence. The moon shone boldly in the middle of the night sky, proudly being the only cosmic body in sight. This would be a rare sight in Tokyo, whose covered land was carefully planned by architects and sky filled with earthquake proof towers that met the sun at its base.

It was a full moon that night, the symbol of new beginnings.

I watched as my friends hurriedly whipped out their phone cameras in hopes of doing the moon justice, though we all knew deep down it would be difficult to capture. Some things are just meant to be felt instead.

I chose to trail behind, listening to bursts of laughter and my friends jousting each other around about something funny one of them said. Despite not hearing the joke, the edges of my lips perked up too. 

Lifting my Sony camera, I looked through the lens: a perfect circle, standing in the middle of parted clouds, moonlight shining on blackened tile rooftops.

It seemed like the moon was gazing at me.

What a different feeling it was— rather than being the watcher amongst buildings at one of the highest points of the nation's capital, I was a tiny speck in a quiet Nara neighborhood being guided home. 

Click.

I ran to meet the rest of the group and took one last look at the moon with my naked eye, its porcelain skin twinkled for a split second as if to say goodbye, before I promptly ducked into the bus.

Youth is the longest time of your life until you are out of it. 

About 5 minutes away from Aqua City Mall, was a beach that sat in front of Rainbow Bridge. 

As my footsteps slowed due to the sand pooling around my feet, I was reminded of home. But my heart knew we were somewhere else. I suddenly found myself drawn to the group of high schoolers squealing as they pretended to push their friend into the water. They erupted into laughter as one of the boys accidentally fell inside and chased their friends in feign anger. His words were of annoyance, but the grin plastered on his face was one of undeniable youth. Right next to them were four girls who finished propping up their camera on the sand and hurriedly got into position, holding golden “2023” balloons that hid their faces. They counted to three and jumped in unison. When they huddled together to check on their photo, the girls hugged in glee at an undoubtedly successful jump frame.

It finally clicked in my mind that this was a high school 3rd year trip— for them, that meant graduation was near. I looked back at my friends who took turns taking photos of each other, peace signs and toothy grins that turned their cheeks into apples.

What I felt in that moment could only be described as 侘び寂び(wabisabi). 

The acceptance that moments are fleeting, the celebration of the flow of life. 

The TOMODACHI program was a one week trip filled with countless activities that were stored in my memory. There were large moments of conversations that ran a mile a minute, there were smaller moments with nothing but collective warm breath against the cold spring air.

My advice when traveling, is to sit back and look for moments of 小確幸 because those are the moments you keep for a rainy day. 

I Went to Japan and My Cheeks Fell Off

From March 4 to March 12, 2023, a group of 17 students (+ Max-san, we love you!) embarked on a journey to Japan. 

The purpose? To bridge the cultures of Hawai'i and Japan in the spirit of future diplomacy as part of the efforts of JICE (the Japan International Cooperation Center). As to whether we were successful or not - well, they don't call Hawai'i the 48th prefecture for nothing. 

The week was jam-packed, so I'll give you the speedrun of our activities. I had actually been to Japan previously, but I was really curious to see what JICE had planned for us - basically, what do Japanese people & the Ministry of Foreign Affairs think foreigners should see and experience in Japan, with only one week to do so? 

The shenanigans started upon landing in Japan. 

We played several hands of Speed while we bonded as a group in the immigration line. We were exhausted and hungry from the flight, so the three hours of customs, immigration, and security in Tokyo Narita felt especially long. However, we were all incredibly stoked to finally be in Japan. We had been preparing for this trip for several months at this point, and I don't think the reality had fully set in. Midterms had only just ended and we suddenly found ourselves in another country. 

On the bus to the hotel, we had our first introduction to our JICE representatives and guides to Japan: Kyoko-san and Yumi-san! (<3) 

The next morning, it was full steam ahead from the start. Meiji-Jingu Shrine and Takeshita Street (the most famous street in Harajuku) were our first excursions. We had lunch at a local restaurant, where we ate tempura with matcha salt and miso soup. JICE was really well organized in this arena; walking into restaurants felt like being part of a royal precession. Our meals were ready as soon as we were seated, and they had prepared vegetarian and kosher meals in advance as well. 

After lunch, we walked around Shibuya and the Metropolitan Building, where the Japanese Assembly meets to discuss bills and other policies. 

After a day in Tokyo, we woke at dawn to catch the shinkansen that would take us to Osaka, with a plan to stay in the Kinki region for a few days. On the first day: Osaka Castle, then Todai-ji Temple inside Nara Park, which houses one of Japan's largest bronze Buddha statues. The park is also home to free-roaming deer, who were reasonably amenable to our outward displays of delight and even posing for a quick sketch. 

At dinner, we learned an expression for delicious: hope ga ochiru ほっぺたが落ちる), an idiom which roughly means the food is so good, my cheeks are falling off. We explained that in Hawai'i a similar expression exists. Indeed, the tofu broke da mouth. JICE was serving up straight grindz the whole week. 

Some things are truly universal - it just goes to show that in all cultures, if the meal is truly good, your mouth should cease functioning entirely. 

Highlights from the Kinki Region: 

1. Walking through the red torii gates of Fushimi Inari Shrine, which traverse Mt. Inari to the peak. 

2. A visit to Ritsumeikan University. This was an especially fun excursion to interact with students from the university and tour the campus. We had the opportunity to tour one of the labs, where students are able to use resources such as 3D printing and automatic sewing machines to work on robotics projects and other creative endeavors. 

3. Drinking matcha and enjoying some wagashi (traditional Japanese confections to balance out the bitterness of the tea) at Kinkakuji Temple, otherwise known as the Golden Pavilion. 

3. Kodai-Yuzen, where we participated in traditional yuzen cloth dyeing. 

4. Arashiyama, a district in Kyoto known for its busy shopping streets (selling everything from handmade chopsticks to artisanal confectionaries) and bamboo forest. The path through the bamboo was crowded with visitors hoping to enjoy the tranquility of the wind through the shaded green stalks, but further exploration just outside the forest led us to a pleasant café on a suburban road, where we enjoyed some afternoon refreshments and a much-

needed sit-down. 

5. Sanjusangen-do. This temple houses the 1001 statues of Kannon, the goddess of mercy. The long wooden structure was permeated with the smell of incense and was quiet except for a lone monk chanting at the center of the statues. 

After a few days of sightseeing around Kyoto, we returned to Tokyo via shinkansen. One of our most important days was also our last full day in Japan - our presentations to members of the U.S.-Japan Council. After a session of preparations, edits, and practice, it was time. 

The presentations went splendidly, of course. Despite a bit of nerves (this was what we had traveled to Japan to do, after all), the whole group killed it. The presentations ranged on a wide variety of cultural topics: everything from the differences in diet in Japan vs. the U.S. to the origins of the Aloha shirt. In fact, the presentations will be given once more here on island for members of the Japanese consulate on April 16th, 2023. 

On our last day, we visited the small town of Sawara just outside of Narita City to attend a festival (Hina Matsuri, also known as Doll's Day or Girl's Day). This also happened to be the 

last day of the festival, so we were lucky to catch it before our departure. Girls from the town, dressed in red eyeliner and traditional doll-like outfits, sailed down the river in open-top boats as musicians played Japanese-style wind instruments. Vendors lining the river and main street of the town were selling homemade mochi (which contained the most delicious, locally-grown strawberry and silky red bean I have ever had the pleasure of tasting), takoyaki, and sakura soft-serve ice cream. The town itself felt like stepping into Old Chiba, though we were less than an hour's drive from the airport. 

Then, after some bittersweet goodbyes to Yumi-san and Kondo-san and standard airport tomfoolery, we were on the plane back to Hawai'i. 

It was a truly wonderful week, and I loved getting to know everyone who was selected for the program. I appreciated the different backgrounds of the other Kakehashi scholars, and that we were each in different years and majors at school. It added another layer of perspectives to a program intended to explore the differences - and similarities - of where we grow up and how that informs our interactions with the world. 

Anyway, enjoy some B-roll. And don't worry, our mouths have since recovered.