8,290 Days to Japan

For 4,015 days, it’s been Japan. Japan has been the answer to:

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

“What’s the number one thing on your bucket list?”

“What do you want for your birthday?”

The answer has never changed.

2,326 days ago, I was supposed to visit Japan with the ultimate tour guide — my obachan (“grandmother” in Japanese), who grew up in Tokyo. This was my dream come true, as she’s the reason I’ve dedicated so much of my academic life to learning Japanese and understanding the culture. She lit the desire in me to know more about my heritage.

1,589 days ago, the COVID-19 pandemic began to rage across the planet, and for another 1,949 days, Japan remained at the top of my list.

528 days ago, I was accepted into an internship program in Tokyo. I was finally going to Japan.

353 days ago, I stepped onto Japanese soil for the first time since making it one of my biggest goals in life — 8,290 days ago.

On that day, my life changed. I did it. I took a deep breath, sighed in relief, and felt lighter. For the next 90 days, Japan was home.

Inside my box, I keep anything from those 90 days that will fit — postcards, train tickets, brochures, fortune amulets, coins, even empty wrappers. Each item reminds me of the person I became while immersed in a new culture, and who I am now after having those experiences. To this day, it shapes my way of thinking, behavior, and sense of identity.

While the things I kept, like old receipts or wrappers, might be meaningless to someone else, they hold stories from specific days I never want to forget. I couldn’t risk stashing them in a drawer or closet where they could be lost or mistaken for trash. That’s why I created The Keepsake Collective, a way for myself and others to protect the most meaningful, fragile pieces of their story in something that’s beautiful enough to display.

Opening my box reminds me of the hard work it took to finally make it to Japan and have an experience more meaningful than I ever imagined. It reminds me of the friends I made, the new perspectives I gained, and the growth I saw in myself. It reminds me of how much love and family I left in Japan, waiting for me to come back. Most importantly, it reminds me of my obachan, and her love for me.

Inside my box are memories that are priceless. Inside my box are pieces of me. And I hope inside your box are pieces of you too.