{"id":1955,"date":"2025-01-24T09:33:44","date_gmt":"2025-01-24T00:33:44","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/newsletter.nichibun.ac.jp\/?post_type=messages&#038;p=1955"},"modified":"2025-09-10T10:35:11","modified_gmt":"2025-09-10T01:35:11","slug":"tokyo-kyoto","status":"publish","type":"messages","link":"https:\/\/newsletter.nichibun.ac.jp\/en\/messages\/1955\/","title":{"rendered":"Tokyo, Kyoto."},"content":{"rendered":"<p>\u201cI want to be a scholar.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>I knew the path ahead was a rocky one. I was born in Shizuoka; I grew up in Tokyo; and I went to the States where I graduated from High School and University. When I entered grad school in Tokyo after returning to Japan, I began researching radio broadcasts that had been jointly produced by GHQ (General Headquarters; the Allied Occupation forces) and NHK immediately after the war. In those radio broadcasts, there survive the voices of the defeated Japanese addressing a victorious America. By lending an ear to those voices, I came to confront my own upbringing in the cultures of both Japan and the United States.<\/p>\r\n<p>While I became increasingly confident in my research, I wondered more and more about what would happen if I just stopped. One winter, while in Kyoto to attend a conference, I was tormented by such thoughts. Thinking something sweet would cheer me up, I quickly searched \u201cKyoto,\u201d \u201cJapanese sweets,\u201d and \u201ctasty.\u201d Guided by the pale light of the phone glowing dimly in my palm, I set out alone for the shop.<\/p>\r\n<p>It was a charming caf\u00e9 straight out of a novel. I found myself seeking personal advice from the owner, who somehow reminded me of my grandfather.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re a young woman. You can do anything you choose, can\u2019t you?\u201d <br>Indeed; there is no single path in life. <br>\u201cThank you very much, it was delicious.\u201d<br>As I was about to stand up and go, the owner, who had perhaps heard my voiceless voice, murmured: <br>\u201cI wonder when she will be back for her next conference\u2026\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Unable to offer adequate thanks, I left the shop in a hurry and allowed myself to cry until I reached the nearest station.<\/p>\r\n<p>Winter ended, spring came, and with it my interview at Nichibunken. On my way, I visited the Chion\u2019in temple and sought furtive inspiration from the cherry blossoms there. After returning to Tokyo, I was fortunate enough to learn that I had been successful. The person with whom I most wanted to convey this felicitous news was in Kyoto.<\/p>\r\n<p>Thinking I would telephone first, I searched for the name of the caf\u00e9 whose owner I had never for a moment forgotten. What appeared on the screen, though, was not a phone number, but two words impossible to grasp: <br>\u201cPermanently Closed.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Immersed in research listening to the voices of the past, had I avoided engaging with people in the present? Despite the fact that my attention should have been on others rather than myself.<\/p>\r\n<p>These days, I am being made to feel most welcome by fellow professors, the admin staff, the security guards, and even the local baker. Enveloped in the voices of people involved with Nichibunken, I am starting new research projects and, in my own way, slowly building my connections in this new world. If I continue in this way, then perhaps the day will come when I can announce: <br>\u201cI am not back for a conference; I am here for good!\u201d <br>Dreaming of a second encounter, I shall boldly stride up the hill.<\/p>\r\n<div id=\"attachment_1950\" style=\"width: 598px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-1950\" src=\"https:\/\/newsletter.nichibun.ac.jp\/nichibun_nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/202501-\uff4d01-01-588x700.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"588\" height=\"700\" class=\"wp-image-1950 size-medium\" srcset=\"https:\/\/newsletter.nichibun.ac.jp\/nichibun_nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/202501-\uff4d01-01-588x700.jpg 588w, https:\/\/newsletter.nichibun.ac.jp\/nichibun_nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/202501-\uff4d01-01-206x245.jpg 206w, https:\/\/newsletter.nichibun.ac.jp\/nichibun_nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/202501-\uff4d01-01-412x490.jpg 412w, https:\/\/newsletter.nichibun.ac.jp\/nichibun_nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/202501-\uff4d01-01-529x630.jpg 529w, https:\/\/newsletter.nichibun.ac.jp\/nichibun_nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/202501-\uff4d01-01.jpg 604w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 588px) 100vw, 588px\" \/><p id=\"caption-attachment-1950\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">The stone steps of Chion\u2019in which my late grandfather so loved have led me to Nichibunken. (photo by the author)<\/p><\/div>\r\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\r\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>","protected":false},"featured_media":1964,"template":"","message_category":[20],"class_list":["post-1955","messages","type-messages","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","message_category-arrivals"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/newsletter.nichibun.ac.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/messages\/1955","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/newsletter.nichibun.ac.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/messages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/newsletter.nichibun.ac.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/messages"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newsletter.nichibun.ac.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1964"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/newsletter.nichibun.ac.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1955"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"message_category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newsletter.nichibun.ac.jp\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/message_category?post=1955"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}