Japanese manners, either,” she added as an afterthought. “They have wonderful manners in Japan!”
And indeed I had found this to be true everywhere I had been in Kyoto that summer. As we pulled in
to a Family Mart to buy fresh bottles of water, I noticed the way the young shopkeepers scurried to restock
shelves, mind the cash register, and re-arrange inventory, all while bowing politely and calling out greetings
and farewells to customers in clear, bright voices. It definitely wasn’t something I saw very much of back
home, if at all.

Pae checked his map and informed us that for the next hour or so we’d be winding our way up a
mountain. “After round the top, we’ll be able to see the lake!” he said cheerfully. After two hours of
pedaling my legs felt like something like jelly. The oppressive Kansai sun hung lower in the sky than it had
when we set out, but still beat mercilessly down on the exposed parts of our flesh.

The quaint Japanese architecture of the surrounding villages whizzed by sometimes swiftly,
sometimes ploddingly as we followed the ups and downs of the curving mountain road. Somewhere nearby
I knew the historic Buddhist temples of Hiei Mountain hid in the deep recesses of the forest, but if we were
to make it to the lake in time I knew we would not be able to spare the effort to go visit, at least this time. I
remember finally being able to see the clear, crystal blue of the lake through over the top of a hill and
excitedly pointing it out to my companions, who whooped and laughed as we followed the road down the
mountain, our three-hour journey culminating in a triumphant arrival on the shores of the massive
freshwater lake.

It seemed we’d only set our bikes down on the rocks and laid down on the shore for a brief moment
before Henri noted that the sun was setting and we’d better get going soon if we were to make it back to the
city before dark. I couldn’t believe it—we’d just gotten here!—but sure enough, the sun had continued its
inexorable daily march across the sky, and it was precariously advanced in its journey.

I sat up, gazing out over the expansive blue water, listening to the sloshing waves and the cawing
crows high above. And of course there were the omnipresent cicadas in the brush all around, tsuku-tsuku-
boshi, tsuku-tsuku-boshi. It was utterly tranquil in its own unique way. To leave so soon seemed a
tragedy—and to leave Japan, I mused, an even greater one.

I sighed, retrieving my bicycle and preparing to set off with the others back home—first to my dorm
room at the I-House, and in a week’s time on a flight back to America. Before I went I cast one more glance
over the rapidly darkening waters, resplendent in the way the setting sun was reflected upon the rippling
surface. I promised myself that someday I’d be back to Japan, this magical land where an incredibly deep and
multi-faceted culture had arisen amidst scenes of such absolute beauty and tranquility. Until I have the
opportunity to go back, I will remember forever what I saw as a young man staying in Kyoto—the
incredible, genuine politeness of the Japanese people, the gorgeous scenery, the beautiful culture, and of
course, the incessant chirping of the cicadas in the summertime.

56



Self-Discovery through Japanese Harmony
Shariful Syed (Stony Brook University)
I yearned to study in Japan. I was drawn to their concept of “harmony”. Known as ‘wa,’ it was the
name of the country upon its creation. Because Japan can be said to be a nation built upon ’wa,’ I wanted to
gain a real sense of how harmony influences Japan’s way of life so as to enrich my own. However, at the
same time I still had to prepare myself for trying to gain acceptance to medical school. Neither goal could
be compromised; despite the common wisdom being that if one wishes to pursue the field of medicine they
must focus on pursuing extensive lab research and science courses, I felt that the experiences I would have
in Japan would facilitate my growth as a person and understanding of harmony. I wasn’t willing to give up
a chance to live in another country, totally removed from my normal way of life, and see how my response
reveals things about my nature that I may not have ever known.

In Japan, one of my immediate impressions was that I felt a strong sense of community and
connection that undeniably seemed harmonious. Japanese society seems to emphasize the value of shared
experience and group activities as vital in formation of social bonds. Attending the 60,000-population
Waseda University, I felt humbled and recognized that there is a distinct world outside of myself. I had to
discover my place. After some research and exploration, I soon found an activity that gave me a sense of
belonging. For a few months I led a weekly group discussion with Japanese students. It was a fantastic
opportunity to discuss topics like societal pressures and social norms that Japanese were reserved about.

Japanese often discourage voicing criticism. As the group leader, I encouraged the members to voice their
opinions about any issue they desired. Having such an open atmosphere generated an air of trust and
comfort between all of us. The process of creating strong bonds among people is a big part of what brings
me happiness. As I found my place, I was grateful to be part of the group.

During the course of my studies in Japan, I read a major work of Fukuzawa Yukichi. I consider his
text, An Outline of a Theory of Civilization and Enlightenment to be the book that has influenced my
attitude the most. What impacted me on a deep level was his idea that, civilization is the attainment of
BOTH material wellbeing and the elevation of the human spirit. I am someone that believes in the
importance of introspection, and the reason I think I value it so much is that I believe that it is a tool that
can facilitate the ‘elevation of the human spirit’ or at least my own spirit. The achievement of gaining an
acceptance to medical school, I consider, to only have been possible because of my will power and focus. A
big part of how I maintain a strong mental disposition is by a kind of meditation that I do outside while
burning incense. To me it feels like a sort of mental cleansing, I clear my mind of all extraneous thoughts to
the point where I am not thinking of anything. I then slowly start to think of life at the moment and what
has been going on and consider the biggest weights on my mind. Branching out I find myself consistently
needing to do this to not prevent myself from getting too far away from harmony.

When I think of some of my behavior patterns, the two things that quickly come to mind are a
metaphor from Ruth Benedict and a practice associated with Zen Buddhism. When presenting an
interpretation of Japanese society and culture, Ruth Benedict, in Chrysanthemum and the Sword, put forth
the idea that a self-conception that Japanese have is that they view their human spirit as something akin to a
brilliantly luster sword. She described that while we have the ability to shine brightly we can also quickly
become rusted and dull and if gone unchecked we may lose all semblance of our former selves. In the same
way I think I need to make a consistent mental effort to maintain a stable peace in my own spirit throughout
the trials and tough decisions I face in life.

The other Japanese parallel associated with Zen Buddhism is the practice of Koan. How I relate the
Koan to my own internal efforts is that just as the Koan requires one to take a very close look at themselves
and make distinctions and connection between their behavior, ways of thinking, perceptual set and see how
they have been affected by their personal experiences can then start to get some understanding of their core
nature. That is how I think introspection has functioned to facilitate my development into a very curious
and questioning person. I find that it is compatible with medicine because it is the task of a doctor to
understand the underlying mechanisms causing certain appearance of symptoms and illnesses. For the
same reason, I believe that this will help me become an exceptional skilled physician.

A meaningful experience I had in Japan occurred when I was volunteering at a local medical center. I
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