Ryugaku: From Toronto to Tokyo

Around this time last year, I was in Graham Library filling out an application for the Centre for International Experience. Right now, I am sitting in a dorm room in Tokyo.

I will briefly explain how I ended up here. I have a long-standing fascination with certain areas of Japan: its tech industry, modern history, and cityscapes, to name a few. This fascination has directed my studies at the University of Toronto, where I’ve devoured courses on Japanese history, politics, and literature. But studying in Toronto for the past two years has been somewhat bittersweet for me; my Japan-related courses have allowed me to study topics that I am genuinely interested in, but they also reaffirmed my desire to actually live and study in Japan. Studying abroad at the University of Tokyo presented itself as a perfect way for me to continue my undergraduate studies, while satisfying my desire for new and exciting experiences.

The application process for studying abroad was lengthy but simple. It began with some basic paperwork, followed by a series of interviews and orientations. The process lasted about six months in total, with each step being fairly spread out. I finally arrived at Narita Airport in October.

Tokyo is a sprawl of urban mayhem. Searching the city’s skyline on Google Images yields scenes of at least five different clusters of skyscrapers, all from different areas of the city. Its urban planning defies the North American conception of a metropolis; we think of cities as having a nuclear downtown, from which suburban and rural areas emanate. Instead, clusters of busy, highly developed districts are located all over the city; Shinjuku, Ginza, Shibuya, Roppongi, and Ikebukuro are a few examples. I’m often asked what downtown Tokyo is like, but the city’s layout makes this a difficult question to answer; it is unclear where ‘downtown Tokyo’ even is. I pass through at least two areas every day that resemble downtown Toronto in terms of development.

The absence of a clear urban center and suburban periphery has a significant impact on the ways in which people interact with the city, and that is part of its allure. Tokyo’s layout affords a high degree of unpredictability. One can explore the city’s streets without stubborn preconceptions of what an area should be like, based on arbitrary categories of ‘urban’ or ‘suburban.’ In any area of the city, a turn of a corner might lead to a neon-lit backstreet of izakayas and food vendors. It could also lead to a tranquil green space, or a complex of temples or shrines. I’m four months into my exchange, and the city is still excitingly unpredictable.

Tokyo’s immense population is another one of its defining characteristics. With approximately thirty-six million residents, it is home to the largest metropolitan population in the world. I can feel this statistic when I ride the metro; being crammed into a train is an unfortunate part of my daily routine.

The size of the city’s population challenges the idea of personal space, but it has its benefits. It lends itself to a plethora of communities centered on almost any interest or hobby imaginable. Yoyogi Park, for instance, is home to Tokyo’s rockabilly community, where people dressed as 1950s’ American rock stars gather to belt out their favourite classics. In Harajuku, one train stop away from Yoyogi, fashion-minded youth gather to show off and discuss their Victorian wardrobes. Another short train ride leads to Akihabara, where Tokyo’s community of transistor radio enthusiasts gathers to buy parts and discuss their hobby. This area is also ground zero for cosplay.

To be sure, these examples are in no way anomalous; communities centered on highly specific interests pervade and define the city. It seems like there is a large group of people dedicated to almost anything, no matter how specific. In the absence of language barriers, Tokyo is a place where almost anyone can find their niche and feel accepted.

Despite the city’s immense size, the University of Tokyo has a relatively small student body. Class sizes here are a refreshing change from those of my first and second years at the University of Toronto. My largest class has twelve students, and my smallest is a one-on-one seminar with a professor.

As an academic institution, the University of Tokyo is great. It is less successful as a social space. All dormitories are located off-campus, and the university closes at around ten o’clock every night. In this way, the University of Tokyo’s campus feels far less energetic than Trinity’s. Most nightlife occurs in the neighborhoods surrounding campus, like in Shibuya.

Spending a year abroad is incredibly rewarding. Of course, it also involves sacrifice. I got pangs of homesickness when I saw Saints photos on my newsfeed. On the bright side, living in Tokyo has given me the opportunity to visit places that I’ve dreamt about for the past two years. It has also complimented my majors.

Am I glad I went on exchange? Absolutely. It’s an amazing opportunity that I hope you seize, too.