Actually, I didn’t come to Kyoto at the very beginning of my studies abroad.
For various reasons, such as the Kansai dialect and Tokyo’s greater internationalization, my parents initially chose a language school in Tokyo for me. However, I did have a strong desire to go to Kyoto before coming to Japan. If I had to describe the origin of this attachment, it would probably be tied to a lingering sense of unfinished longing.
Before deciding to study in Japan, my family and I traveled there. The seven-day, six-night trip wasn’t long, but it allowed me to visit many cities from Kansai to Kanto, from south to north. Kyoto was the place I was most looking forward to.
I’ve loved the anime *Detective Conan* since middle school, enjoying the various cases and the emotional development of Shinichi and Ran’s childhood friendship. My favorite is the *Crossroad in the Ancient Capital* movie, which is set in Kyoto. I had researched everything about Kyoto long ago, waiting for the day I could stand on Kiyomizu-dera Temple and look down, wondering if I too would have the resolve to “jump off” for something.
Unfortunately, because it was a group tour, we only had three hours in Kyoto, and Kiyomizu-dera was under renovation, so we couldn’t visit. Walking along the stone path of Sannenzaka, I looked back at the vermilion spire, thinking that one day I would come back here. Perhaps the cherry blossoms would be in full bloom, or perhaps the maple leaves would be falling. I would stand by the railing of Kiyomizu-dera and take a photo that transcends dimensions.
This sense of unfinished longing wasn’t resolved until my second year of studying in Japan. After a year of grueling entrance exams and interviews, I finally had the ticket to come to Kyoto. After being accepted into Ryukoku University, I almost immediately began preparing to move to Kyoto.
So, January was for house hunting, February for signing the contract, March for moving, and April for seeing the cherry blossoms at Kiyomizu-dera, four years late…
In that way, the unfinished feeling I had carried for four years finally found its closure.

I am currently studying at the Faculty of Business Administration, Ryukoku University, focusing on cultivating talent capable of driving innovation. In seminars, through team planning and managerial experience projects, I have learned about fundamental social skills, non-cognitive abilities, and emotional management.
My undergraduate thesis, titled “Cultivating Fundamental Social Skills in the AI ​​Era,” explores how university students should develop the abilities to adapt to societal demands in the context of rapid technological advancement.
In addition to my major courses, I also actively pursue courses related to psychology and social issues, continuously improving myself as an international student while overcoming language barriers.

Before studying abroad, Kyoto was, for me, something of a city existing only in fantasies—a flat, two-dimensional world. I knew intellectually that Kyoto was the “symbol of traditional Japanese culture” and a quiet, refined city steeped in history. Temples, shrines, kimono, and the changing scenery of the four seasons- it seemed to be cloaked in an elegant, profound Oriental romance. I had an endless longing for that version of Kyoto.

After actually living in Kyoto, I began to realize the city’s quiet, rebellious spirit.
Many people imagine Kyoto still trapped within the framework of “history and tradition,” but to me, Kyoto is more like a city quietly changing.
Amidst rows of temples and ancient streetscapes, the modern steel and glass building of Kyoto Station stands out. My first impression was one of strong dissonance, yet I was also drawn to this juxtaposition—as if the past and future were facing each other in the same space. At that moment, I realized that Kyoto is not a static ancient capital, but a city that constantly grows within its traditions.
Kyoto is not only a “city of history,” but also a “city of students” and a “city of life.”
In its relatively quiet, somewhat aging atmosphere, university students from all over Japan and the world inject a new rhythm. Universities are scattered throughout the city, making life convenient; a short train ride takes you to Osaka, Nara, and Uji, providing a wider space for life beyond studies.
During my time living in Kyoto, my perception of the city gradually shifted from “a frozen symbol of tradition” to “a city that carries history yet continues to move forward slowly.”
Being able to witness this change firsthand in daily life is one of the most precious experiences I had as an international student in Kyoto.

Before studying abroad, my biggest worry was whether I could make friends in a foreign country.
Different languages ​​and cultures made me worry I’d feel out of place in a corner of the classroom, and that my unspoken words would widen the gap between people. This anxiety gradually built up in my heart in the days leading up to my departure.
But once university life began, these worries slowly dissipated.
The people around me were much gentler than I had imagined. Even when my expression wasn’t fluent, or I stumbled over my words, they patiently listened. That feeling of being listened to so attentively made me feel at ease for the first time in a foreign land.
Gradually, I made friends with whom I could share life.
I introduced them to Chinese cuisine, and seeing their reactions to the unfamiliar flavors made us all laugh. Later, we even traveled together to Dalian and Beijing, walking side-by-side through the same streets in different cities. Crossing borders, seeing the sights together, eating together—it made me realize that the meaning of friendship doesn’t depend on where you come from.
Looking back, those worries that once made me uneasy were simply a hurdle I had to overcome to learn how to connect with others.

What truly made me feel “it’s so good to be in Kyoto” wasn’t the scenery or the city itself, but the people I met here.
As an international student, I was initially filled with anxiety when I entered university life, but what truly sustained me through these years were the warm presence around me.
My advisor provided invaluable academic support, encouraging me to set higher goals and assisting me with scholarship applications. Studying under his guidance wasn’t easy, but it was precisely this rigor and expectation that allowed me to truly grow a lot over these four years.
Furthermore, there was a teacher from China who offered me much care in my daily life. Although she wasn’t my mentor, I learned many ways to conduct myself and how to better care for and find peace within myself while studying abroad in Japan.
But what I’m most grateful for are my classmates.
Whether they were fellow international students or Japanese classmates, the time spent with them was always filled with laughter and warmth. Those everyday moments we shared made life in a foreign country feel less unfamiliar.
Sometimes I think, thank goodness, thank goodness I met you all in Kyoto.
That alone is enough to make me feel that coming to Kyoto was an absolutely correct decision.

One challenge I faced during my studies abroad was gradually adapting to the “ambiguous” and “considerate” expressions common in Japanese culture.
This wasn’t a negative thing; on the contrary, I slowly realized that this attitude often stemmed from care and gentleness towards others. However, for someone accustomed to directly expressing my thoughts, finding the right way to express myself in this atmosphere took time. One
experience that left a deep impression was a school project trip to China with Japanese classmates.
When discussing the itinerary, I asked if anyone had any particular places they wanted to visit, but almost no one explicitly stated their opinion. At that moment, I realized that perhaps everyone was considering others’ feelings and didn’t want their opinions to put pressure on others.
From then on, when interacting with Japanese friends, I began to listen to their thoughts first, sense the atmosphere, and then slowly express my own opinions.
While this experience caused some confusion, it also allowed me to truly understand the goodwill behind cultural differences and learn to find gentler ways to communicate between different cultures.

For me, the charm of studying in Kyoto can be summarized in three words: tranquility, freedom, and growth.
Kyoto’s “tranquility” isn’t just about sound.
Even amidst bustling tourist areas, you can always find corners that allow you to slow down and find peace. This space for reflection allows you to reconnect with yourself amidst your busy daily life and provides fertile ground for focused learning.
Kyoto’s “freedom” is reflected in the natural coexistence of diverse values.
In a city atmosphere that respects tradition, students can learn and explore in their own way. There’s no need to rush to conform to a particular “standard answer,” but rather to gradually develop your own direction in an inclusive environment.
And “growth” comes from the entire process of living and learning in a different culture.
Finding your place amidst confusion, building yourself amidst uncertainty—Kyoto doesn’t urge you to immediately become a “better version of yourself,” but gives you time to let change happen naturally.
For me, the days I spent in Kyoto were, in themselves, a continuous process of growth.

Studying abroad gradually instilled in me a forward-looking attitude: to discover reality with my own eyes and not be swayed by preconceived notions.
Before coming to Japan, I thought I already “understood the world” through news and social media, but living in a different culture revealed that reality is far more complex and multifaceted than what’s portrayed on screen.
Descriptions of countries, cultures, and people are often simplified or even tainted with prejudice.
My study abroad experience taught me to use firsthand experience as a crucial basis for judging the world, revising my understanding of others and society through concrete encounters.
Regardless of my future career path, I hope to maintain this attitude:
go to the scene, see with my own eyes, feel with my heart, and then make judgments.
Through this approach, I aim to understand people from different cultures and this ever-changing world.

After graduation, I hope to work for a Japanese company in a position related to international business.
During my studies in Japan, I deeply appreciated the importance of communication and understanding between different cultures. Through learning, volunteering, and interacting with people from different countries, I gradually discovered a sense of value in “connecting people.”
In the future, I aspire to become a bridge between Japan and the world, contributing to cross-cultural cooperation and mutual understanding.

Some people prefer bustling cities, while others favor quiet places.
Choosing a city to live and study in, like choosing a lifestyle, has no standard answer.
If you don’t yet have a very clear study abroad goal, I would suggest you experience Kyoto.
I can’t say for sure if it’s “right” for you, but I can say for sure that Kyoto will offer you a space to slow down and reflect.
Here, you have the opportunity to temporarily escape the hustle and bustle, quietly examine what you truly want, and where you hope to go in the future.
Kyoto won’t rush to give you answers, but it will provide you with a “springboard” for reflection and a fresh start.
Perhaps it is in this tranquility that you will slowly find your own direction and take a preparatory leap for the future.