I’ve wanted to study abroad in Japan for some years now, and for the short time I’ve been here — about two weeks — it certainly hasn’t disappointed. It’s definitely been a place of new experiences and new friends, some of which I will never forget.

That said, while I am learning new material at school, I’ve also been submerged in a new environment, one completely different than the one I’m used to back at Cornell. School here is a lot less structured than in Ithaca, even though Japanese society is generally much more structured than America’s. Maybe that’s because it’s a consortium of American schools, but hey, I’m certainly not complaining about field trips every week and not having prelims (even the midterms and final exams here aren’t as stressful as Cornell’s).

Of course, study abroad implies you are in a foreign country. And being in a foreign country means everything is in a FOREIGN LANGUAGE. Naturally, I knew this going into the application process; I had been taking Japanese classes every semester since freshman year so that I could even do study abroad.

The reason I emphasize this somewhat obvious fact that everything in Japan is in Japanese is because I’ve really come to appreciate being able to communicate in English.

In my experience, somae situations made more difficult by the language barrier range from buying a monthly bus pass to ordering dinner at a restaurant where you can’t read the menu. All of these make you appreciate the little things that you take for granted in America. While I can somewhat function here in Japan, a six-year-old can still beat me hands down in terms of speaking. But I can deal.

The first thing I noticed after coming to Japan was the food. Don’t get me wrong, I love the food here, but even though I’ve been here only a couple weeks I can’t count the number of

times when I just wanted a burger, pizza or Starbucks — all of which are lacking where I am.

On second thought, the first thing I noticed was the height of the ceiling and narrowness of the stairs — my rather large American feet were too large for the stairs in my host family’s house, causing me to fall down them.

One thing about being in a foreign country is that you need to step outside your comfort zone. And what better way is there to do that than to do, or eat, things you never thought you would (sorry all you horse lovers, I’m here to tell you that your favorite barnyard animal is actually quite tasty).

Even though I can’t sing, I plan on doing karaoke, and even though I have never been a big fan of large displays of public nudity (though I can deal with it better in certain contexts), I plan on going to an onsen, or hot springs. These are things that I want to do now because I don’t know when I would get another chance (well, except for the karaoke — I guess that was a bad example). I’m already out of my comfort zone; how much more painful can it be to go even further?

And you know, everyone was gearing me up for this huge thing called “culture shock,” but except for the occasional moments (some described above), I haven’t really felt anything more than simple homesickness. Maybe that’s because I already figured I was going to be a stranger in a strange land, so I already had the right mindset.

I found that you really just have to open your mind even more than you thought you might. Let’s face it, Ithaca and even America, to some extent, are pretty secluded. So far this is pretty fun. I wonder what the next four months have in store for me. No more murderous staircases, I hope.

And to all those little old ladies on the bus in Kyoto — you don’t have to stand through a bumpy ride as opposed to sitting next to the funny looking American. It’s really not that bad, I swear. And hopefully I can talk with my host family and not sound completely inept by the end of the semester. Hopefully.