From Tatami Floors to Neon Nights: How Japan Became My Home Away from Home

Written by: Lisa Busby 

こんにちは！(Konnichiwa!) My name is Lisa, and I’m a student at Texas Lutheran University in Seguin, Texas. This summer, I studied abroad with CIEE Kyoto, taking courses like Feudal Japan and Modernizing Ancient Japan. I thought I was coming here just to have a vacation and then study a bit of history, but what I found was so much bigger: the most fun I’ve ever had, and a once-in-a-lifetime experience that felt like home. During a traditional tea ceremony, I first heard the Japanese phrase 一期一会 (ichi-go ichi-e) meaning “one time, one meeting.” It signifies that every encounter, no matter how ordinary, is unique and will never be experienced in quite the same way again. This phrase truly stuck with me, as it taught me that even mundane moments hold extraordinary weight, whether it was a brief conversation with a local that made me feel welcome or the thrill of scuba diving beneath Okinawa’s waves. Both belonged to the same fleeting summer, each moment unrepeatable, all of them unforgettable. That simple idea stayed with me throughout the summer and even now, shaping how I experienced everything from tatami floors to neon nights. 

Tatami Floors and Timeless Traditions 

One of my favorite memories was being dressed in a kimono for a tea ceremony. We took part in a traditional 茶道 (Sadō), the Japanese Way of Tea. I watched as our host lady performed each step of the 点前 (temae), purifying the tools, scooping hot water, even pausing to gaze into the ladle as if it held a reflection of herself. Kneeling on tatami mats, carefully whisking matcha, I focused on the phrase she taught us 一期一会 (ichi-go ichi-e). Every movement was deliberate, precise, and deeply meaningful. The quiet creaks of the floor, the steam rising from the tea, all of it reminded me that the moment was fleeting, and that’s what made it so precious.

Not long after, I had the chance to see a live maiko dance in a traditional Kyoto theater. The performance was truly magnificent, the precision of each movement, the elegance of the kimono, the quiet focus carried in every gesture. Sitting in the audience, I felt like I was witnessing a piece of history that was still alive, a tradition passed down and performed with such grace that it felt timeless. Nothing could compare to that feeling.
 

Walking Through History

Being in Kyoto often felt like a living classroom, as you are able to stand and sometimes even see the very place where all this history occurred. When I studied the Heian period and then stood in front of Byōdō-in Temple, history wasn’t just something in a book; it was right there in front of me. The gardens in Kyoto were just as unforgettable as the temples. Each one felt carefully designed yet completely natural, with moss-covered stones, still ponds that mirrored the sky, and paths that invited you to slow down. Walking through them was like stepping into a living painting, peaceful, deliberate, and full of details that revealed themselves only if you lingered long enough.

Later trips deepened that feeling: the towering white walls of Himeji Castle against the summer sky, the solemn beauty of the Hiroshima Peace Dome, and the red Torii gate of Itsukushima Shrine rising out of the water. Each site carried its own story, its own weight, and its own reminder of how Japan weaves together past and present.

Adventures Beyond Kyoto

Not every memory was a quiet reflection. In Okinawa, I went scuba diving for the first time, floating among coral and fish in a world so different it felt almost unreal. And one afternoon, sitting in a seaside cave on the most beautiful beach I have ever encountered, I realized how much joy there is in simply pausing and taking in the view.

Then there was the other side of Japan: the dazzling energy of Tokyo at night and the iconic glow of Osaka’s Glico sign. These places pulsed with life and laughter, a complete contrast to the temples and gardens I’d wandered through days before, yet equally unforgettable. 

Visiting both the new and old World Expo sites in Osaka was a quirky but memorable highlight. Standing in front of the retro Expo ’70 Tower and then exploring the modern grounds showed me how Japan reinvents itself while still honoring its past, and it was simply fun to be part of that.

And of course, there were the unexpected highlights, like visiting the Attack on Titan statues in Hita. It was a reminder that pop culture, even in the depths of Japan’s southern countryside, is just as much a part of Japan’s identity as castles and shrines.

The Small Moments That Made It Home

As incredible as the big adventures were, what truly made Japan my home away from home were the small, everyday things. Ordering food in Japanese with a nervous laugh. Getting lost on winding streets and somehow finding my way back. Buying my favorite 7/11 pastries and eating all the tonkatsu, shabu-shabu, and any other Japanese dishes I could handle. Even the train stations left an impression. At Tokyo, Kyoto, and everywhere in between, thousands of people streamed in different directions, yet moved in a flowing harmony, a quiet dance of individual purpose and mutual respect. Stepping into that flow, I felt, in some small way, like I belonged.