Living in Japan for the last three weeks has been a transformative experience. Customs of politeness and courtesy make me think about others a lot more in public spaces. I’m quiet on public transit, in hallways, and in my dorm. This has made me really appreciate the designated spaces to really live it up and be loud. Recently, my group went to the Gion festival in downtown Kyoto, and there were so many people eating as they walked, laughing and talking loudly, and so close to one another. Yet, still considerate of one another, everyone gathered to enjoy the festival and be merry.
Also, while going through the ubiquitous motions of life, ordering food, buying snacks, and walking to and from class, I’m suddenly struck by the thought that I am a foreigner. I am the one who speaks a foreign language, and I am the one who doesn’t fit in here. I don’t have this thought because people are rude or explicitly exclusionary. On the contrary, I think people are very kind and receptive to me, but I am aware that I am the one who speaks a strange language. After reflecting on this, I realize that even when I'm home, I am still a minority. I am a Mexican woman attending college in a predominantly white institution, but when I am home, I am extremely comfortable with the language of the majority. My experience abroad has made me reexamine the way I understand my identity and who I am at home.
Emely Angel Perez, Diverse Ducks Ambassador