Hello!

I taught English in Japan through the JET Program from 2014-2016. Omoi-kiri is a record of my time there. There won’t be any new posts, but feel free to look through the archives. You can filter by tags through the navigation link in the sidebar. 

Here are some places where you might find me now. 

For photos: Instagram. Shocking. 

For further Japan-blogging: My blog on Gaijinpot, which I’ll continue updating and which is a lot more useful and relevant than this one. 

On Tumblr: @zenlunacy Mostly just reblogs at this point, but I’m aiming to use it more personally eventually. If I ever stop self-sabotaging and do more writing, this is also where I’ll post or link to it.

Feel free to shoot me a message there anytime. Take care, star stuff. ♥

K looks like I forgot about this blog for a while, but I meant to do one more post to wrap things up. So here it is.

All I wanted to say was: thanks for reading. Taking the time to write here and piece my thoughts together, and then seeing that what I felt resonated with others too, helped me get so much more out of my hazy dreamlike time in Japan. I do tend to write mostly when I’m sad/confused/just need to figure things out, so I’m looking back now and wondering if this blog is a misleadingly sad portrayal of my time in Japan. Just scroll through Instagram and balance it out with this for the reality haha.

I think this is the first time I’ve written so openly on a public platform. In university I journalled in a private LJ for my eyes only, and when I came back to Canada and checked the wordcount and saw that it was 200k+ words, I felt kind of nauseous about it? I developed such a ridiculous obsession with secrecy and “purity” in my thoughts/writing, and in the end that served no purpose other than to make me fall even further behind. Idk why I thought I’d achieve anything on my own. All writing is is a form of communication.

One of the first questions I got on this blog was someone asking me how I came to be more at peace with things. I did my best to give an answer, but honestly I’m still trying to figure out the reason. I will say, though, that things were so much harder when I had no idea how to get my thoughts down in words. I’m thinking of me as a teenager, unable to write my way through my feelings yet so I was just in a constant state of anxiety and alienation. My 17 y/o self wrote that “when the day comes that I can express myself with words, I will finally be able to be open”, and I believe that. Writing used to represent a turning away from the world for me, but I’ve grown to see it more as a form of communication.

I’m sorry if I was bad about responding to comments and messages, but it meant so much to see that other people recognized the things I wrote about here. And in November I had a blog post published about being Asian in Japan—I felt really apprehensive about it when it got posted and felt like I had failed to explain things properly, but I got so many comments from friends and strangers saying they could relate to it. I was genuinely surprised. I think through writing, I’ve started to make more friends I can really support and be supported by. 

There are basically zero chances for me to get good at talking or any other form of communication now. I have to keep writing, even though it’s bleak to think that I’ll never be good enough to be happy. I’ve gotta believe that this has the potential to make me and someone else out there a little less lonely. 

One of my former JHS students sent me a letter where she wrote about her plans for the future and noted, “When I think them, I feel happy. Why don’t you think about your future? Thinking your future makes you happy!” Honestly I can’t even remember a time when thinking about my future didn’t just terrify me lol, but that inspires me and I’m trying to let the mysteriousness of the future make me hopeful too. Sometimes it’s hard to explain to people why I left Japan because things were going great there, but there’s also so much more I want. In the rare moments when my belief in myself flickers to life, thinking about the future makes me happy indeed.  

I guess what I wanted to convey most was all the peace and beauty around me. University’s a stressful time for anyone, and I quickly ended up too overwhelmed to do most of what I wanted to do. Moving to Japan right after that was like stripping everything about my life and identity down to the core. You can’t really do anything but focus on what’s in front of you. 

I found it easier to stay in the present moment, simply because it demanded so much of my attention. Just laugh with a kid about absolutely nothing, fumble through endless small talk in Japanese, go somewhere with a friend you just met, notice how pretty the sky is when you bike through the streets, realize snow makes shadows under the streetlights. Everything so light. I didn’t have any history and in some ways I was less of a fully formed person, but I was surprised to find that I actually often enjoyed that, despite writing just as often that it was freaking me out. Just a vessel for experiences. 

I didn’t collect a lot of souvenirs when I was in Japan, mostly because I was worried about how to bring them all home later. Now that I am home, I wish I had given myself free rein to pick up things I liked during my travels, and just shipped an extra box back.  

What I did collect are these omamori, small protective charms from shrines and temples. They make great souvenirs since they’re so small, and each design is unique. They can be kind of pricey for their size, so I usually only bought them at places I felt a connection to, or just if the design really caught my eye. But now of course I wish I had collected way more! I went to countless shrines and temples, but I only ended up with 8 omamori (unless some of them are still lost in my suitcase somewhere, which is very likely. I’m pretty sure I got one at Enoshima...) 

Documenting for my own reference, and anyone else who’s interested.

Top row, left to right:

Meiji Jingu, Tokyo, 11.23.2014. For victory. Kinkakuji, Kyoto, 03.30.2015. For good luck.  Kobo Daishi Gobyo in Okunoin, Koyasan, 04.01.2015. For protection from bad luck.     Hokkaido Jingu, Sapporo, 04.29.2015, then replaced 01.12.2016. For good luck.

Bottom row, left to right:

Katsuoji, Osaka, 04.17.2016. For good health.  Ujigami Jinja, Uji, 04.29.2016. For success in studying.  Itsukushima Jinja, Hiroshima, 05.02.2016. General good luck/protection I guess, it doesn’t say. Probably meant for children and schoolgirls, but the deer were too cute to pass up.     Ishiura Jinja, Kanazawa, 08.12.2016. For breaking through challenges. 

It’s been around 2 weeks since I got back from Japan. 

I met up with some friends and ate a whole lot of food, but mostly I’ve just been sleeping a lot, and at hours that I haven’t kept since summer vacation of high school, passing out around 4 or 5 a.m. and waking up past noon. I don’t know if it’s just jet lag or also a result of being in this bedroom again. My habits never die. I thought being back would feel strange, but what’s strange is how immediately normal everything felt. It’s as if I got in a time machine and went back to the past. The first morning I woke up, it felt like the entire 2 years in Japan might just have been a dream. Are things real if they only remain as memories? What did I bring back with me from that time?

I wanted to do a lot of reflecting, but since I got back I’ve pretty much solely been focused on the future. Not really in a positive way... what the heck am I gonna do with myself?? I wonder if later I’ll look back on my time on JET as some kind of golden period in my life, for reasons I took for granted while I was there. Mid-20s, a job I enjoyed with no financial concerns, able to travel on a whim, always friends to do things with, carefree. I’m so interested to eventually see the impact it has on the course of my life, which isn’t clear yet. 

When I was in Japan, my whole life centred around being in Japan. And I’m happy about that. It’s what I wanted. I want to always give everything I’ve got. But being in a different environment has already caused so many different ideas, interests, and desires to resurface. It’s kind of overwhelming, especially while simultaneously sorting out my post-Japan feelings. I feel like good things are going to come of it all, even though I can’t see what they are yet. And compared to other times I’ve had to let things go, I’m not at all paralyzed with nostalgia over Japan.      

While studying abroad 6 years ago (holy shit that is a lot of years) I had this fear that nothing else I ever did would be as amazing. But then so many fun and important and humbling things happened after that, including Japan of course. So many things I never would have seen coming. So I know even if things are blurry and anxious now, in the future they’ll be happy and fun and clear, and then sad and drifting, and everything will just keep circling around like that. Which doesn’t seem so bad.

When I was younger, it wasn’t actually that I was sad that bothered me, but that the sadness seemed permanent, and I’d never escape. Conversely, whenever I was happy I was also anxious about trying to hold onto that state for as long as possible. And no matter how I felt, part of me always missed everything else I wasn’t feeling/experiencing, which I assumed would never come back again. 

I didn’t understand then, how easy and right it is to let go when you know that nothing is permanent, except the ebb and flow of everything, so everything is permanent. And honestly, I know it sounds contrived but it’s the truth: it was Japan where that finally came together for me. 

Thanks, Japan. 

I’ll probably post a few more things here in omoi-kiri, and then close up shop and move over to @zenlunacy (formerly childpilot, if you were following that). It’s mostly just been reblogs until now but hopefully I’ll start posting my own things, including photos from my last Japan trip. I’ll post a final note here when I do close omoi-kiri. Thank you so much to everyone who followed my JET adventure, despite my uncomfortable and ever growing narcissism. If I get good at writing someday I’ll be able to make sense of this world without the crutch of my ridiculous ego. Keep reading to find out if that ever happens!

1. Shoes on my first day of work and my last day. 2. Newspaper article when I started and when I finished. 3. Selfie on my first and last days of work. 4. Hallways when I arrived and when I left. 

Just as I thought, it’s so busy at the end that there’s no time to reflect. Off to Tokyo tomorrow. Just keep on doing the whirlwind. Go easy, step lightly, stay free.

Games and Activities for EFL

I have no idea if this is of use to anyone, but I already typed it up for my successor, so here’s a list of some of my most commonly used games and activities as an elementary and junior high school JET Program ALT. Most of them are team/group activities, since that’s what I found worked best. They were also scavenged from around the web and sometimes other ALTs, so I don’t lay claim to any of them! Use them and pass them along and add your own too, we’re all in this mystifying hell with little official training or support together. <3

Elementary

18 more games for ES/JHS under the read more. 

Useless tips for new JETs

I say "useless" because there's not much this vague advice, or any other vague advice of this kind, can do for you. Practical tips are much more helpful. You'll read this and instantly forget it, and then fall victim to all the things I tried to warn you about, because that's the only way to learn anything. You've got a good heart, though. You'll be alright. 

You can’t learn Japanese by immersion alone. I had a vague notion that I would pick up tons of Japanese just by living here, and to some extent I did, but you will hit a plateau without focused study. And studying the language in an immersive environment is so much more fun and efficient than studying it elsewhere! There were a lot of times I'd learn a new vocabulary word or grammar structure, and then catch it being used in the office the next day.

Travel as much as you can (if you want). I say if you want because obviously there's nothing wrong with staying home and exploring your local community. But if you are interested in traveling, you'll have to make plans early and take advantage of the holidays/breaks you get. Don't put things off towards some vague future. Aside from your time on JET being limited, Japanese people tend to book things quite far in advance, meaning that if you wait, prices may rise or things may be completely booked out. I definitely recommend doing as much domestic travel as you can, and a little international travel as well. I think it was the thing that most helped me fight off the lows of culture shock, by constantly reminding me how beautiful Japan is and how many things there are that I love about it.  

Use names often. I know it sounds super unnatural to be saying someone's name all the time when you're talking directly to them, but your students probably won't really recognize that if you're speaking in English. They'll be happy to realize you remember their name, and the practice will help you remember as well.

Don't let the system get you down. Obviously there are flaws with the ALT program and English education in Japan as a whole, but unless your plan is to become a policy maker, talking in circles about it and letting it dominate your thoughts probably isn't the best use of your time and energy. Despite its limitations, this program is still an awesome opportunity to see how a Japanese school works, get to know and teach and hopefully broaden the horizons of some really incredible students/people, and of course experience living in Japan. It's definitely an unusual job which took a lot of getting used to, but in the end I think it was a good one.  

This job is social af. Not that I want to reinforce exaggerated introvert/extrovert stereotypes on tumblr dot com, but fellow introverts, take note. Teaching is already an extremely social job, and on top of that JETs are expected to be friendly and outgoing with everyone they meet as part of their "cultural ambassador" role. I'm not saying this to scare anyone as I do think it was really fun and has helped me grow bounds as a person, but remember to take time to recharge on your off hours. Don't feel bad or wonder if you're not doing a good job if you can't seem to keep up the same social obligations as others.

Which seems to lead me into the next point: don’t compare yourself to others. Everyone has different strengths and weaknesses, and sometimes JETs seem to get weirdly competitive with each other rather than supportive. There really isn't one model of what an ALT should be, so if you find yourself thinking that you aren't as strong a teacher, or not as good at making local friends, or not as funny and entertaining, not as involved in the JET community, not as far in learning Japanese--step back and think about what positive qualities (which you most definitely have) you can contribute, and which you probably already are without realizing it.  

On that note, don’t compare your situation to others' either. Yes, it does suck that there seems to be so little structure in place to control what kind of resources/support/job JETs have when we all sign up for the same thing without knowing what we'll get, but on the other hand it's just not realistic to expect thousands of people scattered across the country to be living the same experience. It's hard to resist getting jealous of someone else's friendlier staff, more fulfilling work, more affectionate students, cheaper rent, more convenient or exciting or beautiful placement--but that stuff always has been, always will be there in life, and is just dragged into the spotlight on JET because you have no control over what placement you get. It's actually a really good opportunity to reflect on your relationships with envy, control, and desire, and consider what changes you want to make to them going forward in life. Get thee to a temple and meditate it out.

It’s lighter than you think. My final note here is stolen directly from Sister Corita Kent's rules for students and teachers, and is presented without comment because there's nothing else to say: be happy whenever you can manage it. Enjoy yourself. It's lighter than you think. 

(Please don’t reblog.)

Things have been so crazy lately that I have not had any time to stop and reflect. Time is draining away, without my realizing it. Somehow I just had my last day at my Friday school... 

In the morning they held an assembly where I gave my farewell speech, which I said in Japanese because I wanted all the kids to understand. I asked M to correct it for me over strawberry milks late one night at びっくりドンキー (I say late but my bedtime is like 10pm now). After the speech all the students made a bridge with their arms and I ran under it out the gym, giving high 5′s and saying goodbye/thank you as I passed. 

Taught grades 4, 5 and 6, and all the classes went wonderfully, despite honestly minimal preparation on my part because I haven’t been sleeping well and I feel like a zombie every day. The kids were so cheerful and thoughtful and engaged. My favourite 6th grade class ever (usually a difficult grade for me) planned the whole lesson themselves using their favourite games, and even imitated the way I do the greetings at the start of every class. 

I probably would have made it through the day without crying, but the 5th grade class decided to sing Edelweiss to me in English at the end of the class. Which is already a song that makes me a little teary every time I hear it. So out of nowhere I just burst into tears at the front of the class, and the kids kind of faltered a little and then continued. I think some of the other kids were watching me all day waiting to see me cry, and I definitely got emotional over lots of things, but singing in chorus is foolproof. ;_; Good thing they didn’t get the whole school to sing at the assembly or I’d prob have been on the floor.

After school ended, I sat in the library and signed a bunch of notebooks, pencil cases, and hands. I’d planned to just hang out with the kids one last time and then clean my desk out and compile lesson plans/materials for my successor, but the vice principal said all the staff were headed to the junior high school for a class observation and seminar, and asked me to come. Pretty much the last thing I wanted to do at that point, but actually I’m glad I went. One of the 1st grade classes (my 6th graders last year) was having an English class, and they were all so energetic, they looked like they were having a blast. I felt weirdly proud seeing them write in full sentences, even though I work at a JHS too so theoretically I know where they’re supposed to be. I even saw the first batch of 6th graders I had, now in their second year of JHS. They looked so mature, I barely recognized them. It was the perfect way to end my time at this school.  

I did not expect to receive anything today except letters from a few students, but all the classes gave me such beautiful gifts. The 5th and 6th graders put together books with everyone’s photo next to a message card, and the 4th class wrote individual letters. The fact that this was obviously all orchestrated by the homeroom teachers just makes me even more emotional. At this school and particularly this year, I barely interacted with the teachers at all—they just set up the laptop/TV and then retreat to their desks and let me do my thing for 45 minutes, frequently not looking up from whatever they’re marking. Honestly, I don’t know that I was good at this job. I wasn’t outgoing, I didn’t communicate enough with my coworkers. I’m not good at talking to anyone in any language, and I hate that that always comes off as aloofness or disinterest. But maybe someone saw from the effort I put into this that I really did care a lot more than it might have seemed.     

No one besides the principal and vice principal was in the office when I left, so they saw me to the door. I started to put my indoor shoes into the cubby when I realized it was time for me to take them home, and just stood there a bit dazed while the VP ran off to find a bag for me. I think that’s what signalled that I was really leaving the school forever. My shoes aren’t there anymore. I went to have ramen at a nearby place that I hadn’t been to since my first and only other visit, my first winter here, when I got caught in the snow one day and it was an actual sanctuary. Then, while waiting for the bus, I finally started to cry, and cried until I was almost home and my grandfather randomly called me and I had to pull it together to have a conversation in Chinese.

I’m really never going to see these sweet, weird, adorable, aggravating, hilarious, brilliant kids ever again. Never going to stand at the front of the class feeling defeated when they aren’t behaving, or proud when they still remember things I taught months ago. Never going to share in their silly jokes or ask about their dreams or hear them shout see you from the sports field when I pass by on my way home again. 

Not sure if I can go through this 2 more times. :/ 

A haiku:

time flies as fast as a summer storm’s sudden rain  slow down you fucker

I’ve been having a lot of trouble falling asleep every night lately. I want to be positive and genki and switched on for the last few weeks I’ll ever have with these schools in this city in this very specific crossing of space and time that I won’t be able to return to, but I’ve also got constant fatigue and headaches from not sleeping enough. And probably also from being kind of sad and overwhelmed but not having the time to process any of it, so it just keeps hanging out, unabsolved. It’s less than a month now until I fly to Tokyo. 

To do:

Plan final classes (I’ve already done a few with the lower grades which I think all went really well, but there’s still the 5th and 6th grade plus JHS ones to come); do my last Saturday English club that the BOE runs; write farewell speeches for the BOE, students, and school staff, and somehow translate said speeches into Japanese; pick up goodbye gifts/write thank you cards to my JTEs; write notes to a few of the kids, if I end up deciding it’s fair to do that for only some of them; write info pack for my successor which I have thought about a lot but still haven’t started; write articles for a new thing I’m working on; cancel phone and internet, figure out wtf’s going on with my other bills; get my pension refund and tax refund sorted; clean out my desks at work and compile my lesson plans and materials properly; clean my house and pack everything, probably send a box home; plan a Tokyo/Kanazawa trip for August; meet up with my yosakoi team to return the costume; meet up with friends to say goodbye properly; try not to get so tied up in the minutia of leaving that I forget what it means to leave; probably a bunch of other shit that I haven’t even thought about yet.  

I’ve had some good chats with friends that reminded me why I decided not to re-contract—why I knew it was time to move on to the next part of my life even if I don’t yet know what that is, and I’m feeling a lot better about leaving. Just please let me skip directly over this “so busy that I’m too anxious to actually do any of it so I just get busier and more freaked out while making zero progress” phase of the process and jump straight to the part where I’ve said my goodbyes to everyone and everything, and I’m sitting in my room alone next to my packed suitcase, listening to the playlist I made for the airplane ride when I first came here, patting the bare tatami and looking around at the spots on the walls where pictures used to be. I don’t know why I like that part so much.

But also and paradoxically, let me stop time? Just long enough for me to figure out all the right things to say and do (which will be never). This whole thing has made me realize that whatever progress I’d felt I’d made in Japan towards some zen acceptance of the passage of time was prob a sham, even though it all made so much sense at the time and hopefully it just circles away for a bit and then comes back. In the meantime, I can’t seem to stop being this dizzy, frantic summer storm girl. 

Happy Canada Day! 🇨🇦🇨🇦🇨🇦 An ongoing 2-year battle to remind my students that I'm not from America (or Russia, India, France, or any other country that they've guessed I'm from for that matter).

The week after the yosakoi festival was probably the hardest week I’ve had in Japan. I don’t think this blog has necessarily shied away from talking about sadness, but it’s at least been in a way that I hope is vaguely helpful/comforting to others to read, rather than of the “I’ve failed as a human being on every possible level and I sure hope a meteorite hits me” variety. I guess it was just from being distracted for so long, and then suddenly having free time again to think about all the ways in which I am a Bad Person lol. Last week was much better, though I don’t know if that’s because I’m snapping out of it or because I’m now just distracted by frantic JLPT cramming. At a store in Sapporo I came across incense and, reminded of a friend in Amsterdam who used to always burn Nag Champa, I bought some things and now I’m addicted and I don’t know why I didn’t start way sooner. It’s just like living in a temple, very calming.

I just got my successor’s name! Though she happens to be the one new ALT under my city’s BOE who hasn’t posted in the Hokkaido JETs facebook group, so I still don’t know anything about her or have any way of contacting her ahahaha. Somehow it’s comforting just to have the name though. There’s a person out there who’s going to take over this extremely imperfect but still wonderful job, and have all these incredible experiences for the first time, and get to know these brilliant kids. I’ve been thinking a lot over the past week about what to tell my successor, and that’s actually really helped me put things in perspective. Of course all the mistakes I made at work are painfully clear in hindsight—I should have asked more questions, I should have taken more initiative, I should have just been myself instead of anxiously overthinking all my interactions and trying to fit in—but looking back at the whole 2 years, rather than just thinking about the past few months in which things have gotten routine and stale, made me remember all the cherished moments I’ve had in and out of the classroom. I’ve had a fantastic time here, and somehow that also helps me affirm that now is the right time to leave, while I still feel positive about things.

I only wish I had applied to either grad school or other jobs in Japan while I was here, but instead I did jack nothing and I’m going back to live with my parents, which I feel extremely anxious about. :-) I finally like my apartment here—there’s incense burning and lots of natural light and my bed is next to a big window—and the idea of squeezing back into my teenage bedroom with no job lined up and no valid work visa for Japan and not having freedom again and having to listen to my parents’ criticisms is causing me the most stress out of everything tied up with leaving JET (which is an absurdly privileged problem, I know, but leave me alone it’s my blog). But who knows! Maybe I’ll quickly find a job in Vancouver and move into my own place. Maybe I’ll be back in Japan within the year. Maybe I’ll take off and backpack around the world until my savings run out. Maybe I’ll teach English on Easter Island. My friend noted in a Skype call a while back that she wasn’t worried about me because I seemed to always be announcing that I was off to do some new interesting thing barely related to my last venture, and hearing that cheered me up so much, because it’s something I admire in others but have never seen in myself. But it’s true that in the past couple of years I’ve had so many cool and unexpected experiences. So why shouldn’t I believe that the next experiment will be grand as well?  

(EDIT: eeeee I just found an e-mail from my successor, so exciting!) 

I’m so happy I got to participate in the 25th Yosakoi Soran festival, which is really one of my favourite festivals in Japan. Yosakoi is a very flamboyant, unique, high-energy kind of dance that mixes traditional Japanese music and dance with modern styles. I fell in love with it after seeing last year’s festival, which was the first time I ever watched it. The festival in Sapporo is based on the Soran Bushi, a traditional fishermen’s chant that originated in Hokkaido, which all teams must incorporate into their performance. 

I’ve been practicing with this small community team since March, and even though the practice schedule was probably nothing compared to the intensity with which the competitive teams do it, it still feels like yosakoi took over my life for a little while. It was all worth it for the festival: 2 explosive days of 14 adrenaline-charged performances, always rushing around to the next venue, hardly able to catch my breath sometimes. Exchanging rounds of お疲れ様です with the other teams that ran by, their trailing headbands and colourful happi and sleek tabi sneakers turning the entire city into a fantasy RPG for the weekend. 

And what I love most, what really clinched the deal and convinced my lazy zero-dance-background-having ass to take the train to another city after work days and dance for 2 hours in a dark parking lot, is the overwhelmingly infectious smiles and energy. No one knows how to celebrate summer like cold northern lands do. I’m trying to hold on to that strength of spirit back in my real life.   

There are a lot of things I’d like to write about and pictures I still haven’t posted but yosakoi practice has basically taken over my life. The festival is THIS weekend and I feel like I have been doing nothing lately except going to work, then going to yosakoi practice, then passing out when I finally get home. I have very unsurprisingly caught a cold so I’m taking today off as a rest day, and it feels ridiculously indulgent even though I already did a full day of work. What did I even do with my free time before this?

The pictures are from two practice spots. The parking lot next to a huge rice field where we held our first outdoor practice, sprouts and hanging yukata sleeves blowing wildly in the wind. It was an hour by train away from my city, and at night there wasn’t a single other soul at the station, staff included. Weekday practices have to be held at night, and the only space big enough to accommodate the full parade run is a parking lot. Since there aren’t any lights, everyone just lines their cars up and leaves the headlights on. Last night the police came by to check it out, wondering why the fuck two rows of cars were facing off with headlights on high beam in a rural parking lot at 10pm. The lighting situation made everything surreal and I couldn’t concentrate on what I was doing. Freaky bugs were illuminated in the glow of the headlights, and when others pointed them out their voices seemed to float out of nowhere and into nothing. I caught the last train home and my head hit the pillow at midnight.  

When my friend spotted me this morning, wearing a face mask and waiting for the bus to go to work, he noted that I am basically working Japanese hours now. Which is true, this is the only time in the 2 years I’ve lived in Japan that I felt like I’ve been even remotely as busy as a typical worker or student here. And honestly, I feel on the verge of collapse sometimes. As I said to a friend on the team, I’m really looking forward to the festival, and I’m really looking forward to it all being over. Those two things aren’t a contradiction. I don’t think I can handle the real Japanese lifestyle. 

Instagram pictures from my hastily re-planned Golden Week trip to Osaka, Kyoto, Uji, Hiroshima, Miyajima, Okunoshima, Kagoshima and Yakushima (that looks like a lot more than it felt like when I type it all out!). Little islands always end up being my favourite places. They’re full of delightfully strange surprises. 

ig: starcaptain