(This is part two of what鈥檚 becoming a series of blog posts about my experience studying abroad in Japan this semester. I plan to talk about how I made the decision to study abroad, as well as what my experience here is like. You can find part one here.)
One of my favorite things about being a liberal arts student is when something I鈥檓 learning in a class suddenly gives me insight into something that I鈥檝e been idly thinking about.
Some backstory: this past week, I went to Kyoto to go for a run. I mapped out a route that would take me up the Kamo River, over one of the city鈥檚 famous , up past the northern extent of the train line, and into the hills surrounding the city. As I was putting together this plan, and again later when I was riding the train to my point of departure, I noticed something odd: the avenues had numbers.
If you鈥檙e an American, you might wonder why that鈥檚 strange. The answer is that the Japanese address system doesn鈥檛 work exactly like the American system. In America the system goes address number, street, city (i.e. 234 Oak Street, Somethingville). In Japan, that system doesn鈥檛 work, for one very simple reason: most of the streets don鈥檛 have names. But even so, on the train line to Kyoto: stations named 鈥淪eventh Avenue," 鈥淜iyomizu / Fifth Avenue," 鈥淕ion / Fourth Avenue," 鈥淭hird Avenue."
This struck me as strange. It felt doubly strange when I went to Nara (a nearby city with ) a few days later. Nara, like Kyoto, used to be Japan鈥檚 capital city. It鈥檚 smaller, but just as flush with historic shrines and temples. And it also has avenue numbers. 鈥淭hird Avenue / Main Street.鈥 鈥淔ifth Avenue Neighborhood.鈥 I saw plenty of amazing things that day: I went to one of the world鈥檚 largest wooden buildings, I had okonomiyaki, I fed crackers to some of those famous and furthermore cute deer. But I couldn鈥檛 stop thinking about those numbered avenues. What, exactly, was going on?
Fast forward to a class I had later that week. The class was about Japanese literature and history; we were talking about the eighth-century Asuka period. We discussed how, around that time, Buddhism had begun to influence Japanese society. In fact, Chinese culture in general had a broad influence on Japan: they adopted a writing system inspired by Chinese characters, and they were even inspired by the Chinese political system. In the year 708, the empress of Japan ordered the capital of the country relocated to a new city, called Heijo-kyo, which was modeled after the Tang dynasty Chinese capital, Chang鈥檃n. When the move was completed, in the year 710, it ushered in a new age of Japanese history, synonymous with the modern-day name of Heijo-kyo: Nara.
If you look at the street layouts of eighth-century Chang鈥檃n, Nara, and Kyoto, they鈥檙e almost identical. The answer to the question I had been idly wondering about had spontaneously arrived.
I think that, even more than all the sights I鈥檝e seen, this is my favorite thing about studying abroad so far 鈥 it鈥檚 also, in my opinion, one of the best things about a liberal arts education. Not only have I learned things I never would have known, I鈥檝e learned those things in ways I never could have imagined.
And who knows what鈥檚 going to happen next. I have an overnight trip planned to the nearby Awaji Island. Awaji Island is, according to Japanese mythology, the first island created by the Japanese creator deities. I honestly don鈥檛 know what I鈥檓 going to do there yet. (That is, other than keeping my eyes open, paying attention to museum displays, and trying not to miss the last bus to my hostel.) I guess I鈥檒l find out soon enough.
