Photo Credit: Bruno Mattos @Pexels.com

Food that is common in one country can be changed into something new and original when it is taken away from its traditional roots. However, for us, it is so normal that we can hardly imagine it being any different.

A good example of this is green tea. A matcha drink at a cafe in Kyoto will be carefully prepared by someone who probably appreciates the ways of the tea ceremony. He or she pays special attention to the grade of tea, makes sure that it is not clumped together before whisking, checks that the color is emerald green and that the water temperature is just right.

Another familiar food is mochi filled with red bean paste (anko). It can be found almost anywhere: in supermarkets, fancy “wagashi” shops in department stores, and along Nishiki Market. Some of these shops have been selling Japanese tea snacks for centuries. The most modern of them have added fresh strawberries inside, but nothing more radical than that. Although these things are common in Kyoto, they can take on other forms abroad.

In Central Europe, in Warsaw, Poland, I had the opportunity to try some very different matcha and mochi. Japan is located on the other side of the world from Poland, making its food and customs feel very exotic. It seems that the farther away the country is, the more interesting and appealing Japanese things are. Sushi restaurants are popular in big cities in Poland, but I was surprised to see new ideas for matcha and mochi designed to appeal to a different market. At a trendy cafe called Deseo on the beach of the Baltic Sea, I had iced matcha with fresh raspberries. The barista made it with Uji green tea powder using an electric milk frother. He said nobody is trained to use a tea whisk (chasen). Another drink had half tonic water and half matcha, and both drinks had big ice cubes. This was not what I was used to in Kyoto!

Simply using matcha powder is one thing, but making mochi and filling it requires more skill and expertise. I walked into a little shop with blue neon lights and signs with their mascot, a harp seal that looked like the “Shirotan” plush toy. The little mochi pouches were enclosed in plastic capsules that looked like they were packaged for the “gacha gacha” machines selling toys in Japan. The flavors to choose from did not include any with red bean paste. The choices were mango, creamy Snickers, Oreo, cherry brownie, pistachio, lavender, strawberry, and coconut almond. I chose lavender. It was delicate and delicious, made with slightly sweetened lavender jelly with mascarpone cream. The texture was like tiramisu tucked in a pillow of mochi. I was really surprised how good it was.

However, there was one thing I wanted to know. I asked the shop clerk if there were any “real” Japanese flavors. Alas, the clerk did not know anything whatsoever of the mochi native to Japan, its fillings and that it was certainly not sold in plastic capsules. In effect, their products delight a new crowd of young people looking for something new to try from the exotic country of Japan but not caring about the originals.

Questions:

Q1. How was the mochi shop decorated?

Q2. How was mochi packaged in the Polish shop?

Q3. What was the texture of the mochi filling in the Polish shop?

Scroll down↓for answers

A1. Blue neon lights and harp seal characters

A2. In plastic capsules

A3. Soft and creamy like tiramisu

Photo Credit: Rodolfo Clix @Pexels.com

I grew up in the southeastern part of the United States. While there is a lot that comes as a result of being from that part of the country, lately it has involved natural disasters. The state where I’m from was horribly affected by Hurricane Helene (hurricanes are Atlantic Ocean-equivalents to typhoons in the Pacific Ocean). It should always be sad to see the effects of disasters around the world, but it’s different when the location is your hometown.

For me, I’ve been away from my hometown almost all of my adult life, and only really have an address there for citizenship purposes. With family and friends moving on in their lives, I had felt the connection weaken recently, but the effects of the hurricane have challenged that some for me. Even if there is less of what connects you to a place, there are still memories of what was.

It is hard to see so much of what used to be in my hometown either be totally flooded, uprooted from its foundations, or simply washed or blown away. Images and videos I saw almost seemed like they were from another place, but then I’d see a familiar storefront, a very particular street name in a headline, or adjacent towns or counties being mentioned. Then, the feeling just sinks in that it both is and isn’t the place I used to know.

Over time, places that we know will change their meanings for us. Sometimes a positive will become a negative, a negative will turn positive, or they’ll stay the same but we’ll find something new to maintain that feeling. Buildings and people will come and go, and, in the case of me with Hurricane Helene, entire towns practically disappear. It is a part of life you cannot always predict.

Change will happen, and the reasons for it do not have to be bad, though they sometimes are. The main thing to remember is changes to where you were do not suddenly change who you are. The people and places you have and had known will always hold their place in your memory, but what you do with them now determines their weight.

Do not let circumstances decide what you know to be true in yourself. You know what has made you the person you are today.

Questions:

Q1. What recent event has happened in the author’s hometown?

Q2. How long has the author been away from their hometown?

Q3. For the author, what should NOT have final say in what influences our lives?

Scroll down↓for answers

A1. Hurricane Helene

A2. Almost all of his adult life

A3. Circumstances

Photo credit: Nancy Guth @ pexels.com

I used to think, until a few years ago, that the idea of dogs understanding people's feelings and words was just a subjective notion held by dog lovers. However, once I got a dog as a pet, it didn't take me long to realize that dogs are incredibly intelligent and emotionally rich creatures. In fact, I have become convinced that dogs can, indeed, understand human feelings and language.

For example, my dog can distinguish simple words such as his name, 'food,' and 'walk.' My dog's name is Blue. He does not turn around when I say Taro. He doesn't like taking a walk very much, so when I say, 'Let's go for a walk,' he runs away in a heartbeat. Or even if I don't say, "Let's go for a walk," he runs away as soon as he sees me with a walking pouch hanging from my neck. This shows that he not only recognizes his name but also recognizes the context and meaning of the word 'walk.'

What is even more surprising is that my dog remembers our family members' names. One day, my daughter hid somewhere and I said to Blue, 'Huh? Where's Hana (my daughter's name)?', he stopped playing and started scurrying around, going from room to room, earnestly looking for Hana. Isn't it a real surprise?

Furthermore, I often see videos on social media of dogs seemingly conversing with their owners. These dogs communicate using verbal information by pressing buttons that play pre-recorded sounds such as their owner's name, 'walk,' 'cuddle,' 'water,' 'later,' 'now,' or other phrases. It's fascinating to see how some dogs can string together multiple words to form simple sentences.

Scientific studies also support the idea that dogs can understand human emotions and language. Research has shown that dogs can recognize human facial expressions and vocal tones, reacting differently to happy, sad, or angry cues. This ability to empathize and respond appropriately suggests a deep emotional bond between humans and dogs.

In conclusion, the belief that dogs can understand human feelings and language is not just a romantic notion held by dog lovers. It is supported by both my personal experiences and scientific research. Dogs' ability to comprehend and respond to human emotions and words highlights their remarkable intelligence and the profound bond they share with us. Whether it's recognizing their name, responding to commands, or empathizing with our feelings, dogs consistently demonstrate their amazing capabilities.

Questions:

Q1. How did the author's perspective on dogs' understanding of human emotions and language change over time? Why?

Q2. What are two examples that show the author's dog can understand language?

Q3. What have some scientific studies found regarding dogs’ understanding? How do these studies contribute to the overall argument presented in the essay?

Scroll down ↓ for the answers

Answers:

A1. The author’s thinking changed when she got a dog as a pet. After she got the dog, she felt that it could understand some words and concepts.

A2. When the dog hears the word “walk” it tries to escape since it doesn’t like going for walks. Also, the dog could seemingly understand that “Where’s Hana?” meant she should look for Hana.

A3. Studies show that dogs can understand some language and emotions. These findings support the author’s observations.

Photo credit: The author 

As an architect and a designer, Antoni Gaudí has spoken to countless people through his many creations, most of which can be seen in Barcelona. Do you know that one of the people to whom Gaudí’s work has spoken quite loudly and eloquently used to attend a university in Kyoto? It’s true. He is the Japanese stone cutter, Etsuro Sotoo. 

Sotoo, a graduate of the Kyoto City University of Arts, traveled to Europe in 1978, one year after he graduated. As you can see, he was not much older than most of the students at Ritsumeikan University when he did that. That’s amazing, isn’t it? 

After arriving in Barcelona, he was so moved by Gaudi’s masterpiece, La Sagrada Família, that Sotoo chose to stay and learn about him, his genius, and his work. He said “I just came to Europe to carve stone. I was looking for stone and stone introduced me to La Sagrada Família and La Sagrada Família introduced me to Gaudí” (National Geographic, 2013). 

Sotoo strove to understand Gaudí and honor him through his own stone cutting work. In so doing, he has, for more than 40 years, made significant contributions to the construction of La Sagrada Família. This includes the work Sotoo did on the east façade of the basilica. It is there, in the Nativity scene, that we can see fifteen statues of angels that Sotoo created. He even created a few of them with Asian faces. After all, according to Sotoo, angels from the east are needed, too (Public Relations Office, Government of Japan, 2012). (A photo of Sotoo’s angels can be seen above.) 

Sotoo’s passion for Gaudí’s work caused him to reconsider his values and to become Catholic. As you can see, art can be a very powerful language. Does it speak to you? If so, which medium (language) do you prefer to listen to, or with which one do you prefer to create? 

References  

National Geographic (2013, Dec. 14). Unorthodox sculpting. [Video]. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6MW5Us3E--0  

Public Relations Office, Government of Japan (2012, Dec.) Realizing Gaudi’s Unfulfilled Wishes: Etsuro Sotoo (Spain).

https://www.govonline.go.jp/eng/publicity/book/hlj/html/201212/201212_05.html

Questions:

Q1. When did Sotoo travel to Europe?

a. Straight after he graduated.

b. A little while after graduation.

c. A year before he graduated.

Q2. Where can you see many of Gaudi’s works?

a. Barcelona

b. Ritsumeikan University

c. In the Public relations Office of the Government of Japan

Q3. How did Sotoo show his passion for Gaudi’s work?

a. He introduced Gaudi to Japanese visitors.

b. He helped to build Gaudi’s greatest work.

c. He looked for stone to use for La Sagrada Família.

Scroll down ↓ for the answers 

Answers

A1: b

A2: a

A3: b

Photo Credit 1: Yan Krukau @ Pexels.com 

Recently, I had a very interesting and meaningful discussion with my class. I mean meaningful in the sense that we had a chance to reflect about our own stages of life. 

A student presented about what it means to be an adult. As a concluding remark, he asked his classmates "Are you an adult?" I, the eldest in the room wondered, “Am I indeed an adult”? Perhaps, many of you also asked yourselves the same question at a certain moment. The meaning of this question is different for all of us. I thought of the “inner child” that resides in us no matter what age we are. In a morning newspaper, I read about the oldest woman in Germany -- 113 years old. I am sure that no one would doubt that she is beyond adult. Yet, in the article, she told the story of her dreams at night when she sees her “mama” and their shopping trip for a Sunday dress. When she awakes from the dream, she finds herself talking to her mother as if she were still 13 years old and then she slowly awakes and realizes that it was a dream. She chuckled during the interview saying that although she is 113 years old, she is still calling out to her “mama”.  

What are the “rites of passage” as explained by Victor Turner, when we transition into the various stages of life? Are the process of finishing 4 years of university and then looking for a job, finding a partner and then marrying, and thinking of children, the proper markers and rites in the “stages of life”? 

On July 21, 2023, Ritsumeikan University senpais (seniors) and kōhais (juniors) got together and exchanged ideas under the title "Sharing Ideas, Making Connections": Leaders' Dialogue on Future Initiatives (SKNC Event Summer 2023). It was a very fruitful event sending off graduating seniors to their new stages of life as either graduate students, bankers, human resource management specialists, or workers for international human rights organizations. The senpais who successfully finished their four years were giving back to kōhais who yearned to gain from their experiences. As I sat on the side and watched the very talented Ritsumeikan University students and their transitioning into adulthood, I witnessed the true essence of being an "adult", and that is paving the path for the next generation. I am always grateful for the opportunity to watch and also learn from my students. 

Questions:

1) What is the main idea of the essay?  

2) Who presented about being an adult?  

3) What was the main aim of the event that was described?  

Scroll down ↓ for the answers 

Answers

A1. Defining adulthood 

A2. A student 

A3. Senpais and kōhais exchanging ideas 

Photo Credit: Engin Akyurt @Pexels.com 

The ancient Greeks told stories about their gods and heroes. These stories, or myths, helped to form western culture. There are many English words that come from Greek mythology. Two such words come from the story of Narcissus and Echo. Below is a retelling of the myth based on the writing of Ovid, a Roman poet. 

Once there was a youth named Narcissus, who was 16 years old but appeared to be a man. He was so handsome that others fell in love with him. However, Narcissus cared only about himself and spurned the many youths who sought his attention and love. 

Hera, the queen of the gods, was looking for her unfaithful husband, Zeus. She saw the nymph Echo playing in the woods. Hera was envious of Echo’s gaiety, or cheerfulness, and so she cursed her by making it impossible for her to speak except for repeating what others said. 

Echo would often see Narcissus walking through the woods alone or with friends and, like all the other maidens, she fell in love with him. 

One day, when Narcissus was in the forest alone, he heard Echo step on a branch. “Who is there?” he called out. Echo could only respond by repeating his words, “Who is there?” 

Narcissus responded, “Come to me.” 

And Echo replied, “Come.” 

“Why?” replied Narcissus. “Why are you avoiding me?” 

“Avoiding me,” replied Echo. 

“Come and introduce yourself,” said Narcissus, “I wish to meet you.” 

“Meet you,” replied Echo. 

She came out from behind a tree and up to Narcissus. She put her arms around his neck and looked him in the eyes. But Narcissus pushed her away and ran. 

Echo disappeared into the forest and found a cave where she hid herself--her heart still loved Narcissus. Eventually, Narcissus’ arrogance angered the gods. One day, he grew thirsty and found a small pond. One of the gods made the pond silvery bright so that, when Narcissus bent over to take a drink, he saw his own reflection, which was so beautiful that it matched that of the god Apollo. Narcissus fell in love with the image of his own face. He stared into the pond and forgot all else, including food. He remained for days until his body grew weak. Narcissus knew he was close to death and called out, “Farewell.” 

Echo heard him and responded, “Farewell.” She went back to her cave and lived there all alone. Her body wasted away and shriveled up until it was gone. The only thing that remained was her voice, which still repeats back what is said. 

From this story, we get the English words narcissist and echo. What do you think they mean?

Glossary 

myth: a traditional story often involving supernatural beings, such as gods, faeries, and nymphs.

spurn: to reject because you think the other person is unworthy

nymph: a nature spirit

arrogance: thinking that you are better and more important than others; overbearing pride

reflection: the image of something in a mirror or clear body of water 

Questions: 

Q1. After reading the story, what do you think the word narcissist means?  

a. a handsome young man

b. someone who thinks about or admires only him or herself

c. someone who enjoys walking in the forest  

Q2. What is an echo?  

a. someone who lives in a cave 

b. a young woman who is in love 

c. the sound that repeats back to you when you call out 

Q3. Why did Narcissus die?  

a. He didn’t eat because he couldn’t stop looking at his own reflection 

b. Because Echo no longer loved him 

c. He had nothing to drink 

Scroll down ↓ for the answers 

Answers

A1. b

A2. c

A3. a

Photo Credit: Ketut Subiyanto @pexels.com

My twin boys really love to mop. My wife and I got them the same toy mops and they will often mop the floor of our home with them. This is not a pretend mopping—we will stick wet wipes to the mops, and they will very deliberately start mopping everything: while mostly the floor, sometimes the “floor” becomes the top of select items of furniture, stuffed animals, or dinner plates. We usually stop them before it goes too far, but they genuinely want to try and clean.

The main reason for them doing that is because they have seen me do it. Even though I do not feel deserving of such modeling, they notice it and try to do the same. Perhaps the thing they want to do more than mop like me is to mop with me. It is when I enter the mop arena that their kindly mopping activity turns into a competition.

To clarify, it is not just that they want to map with me—they want my mop. They could care less if I use their mop—they want my mop at the same time. That is when there is fussing, fighting, and gnashing of teeth. That is when we are done mopping.

For that reason, I had previously taken apart my mop and kept it out of reach . . . until this morning. One of my sons was very, very persistent in wanting my mop, so I decided to give him a piece of it. Then the other son saw what was happening and then he wanted a piece of the mop. I then realized I could either let this spin out of control, or see if they could work together.

I gave each son a three-minute time limit with my reassembled mini-mop. After that time, the receiver needed to give it to his brother. One of my sons regularly did that, but the other simply refused and the mop needed to be given to his brother by force. He didn’t really want to mop the floor like his brother—he just wanted what his brother had, even if he didn’t know what he’d do once he got it. Eventually he let it go and moved on, as is normal.

In many ways, that seems to be how people act once they enter adulthood. They never quite leave that place of knowing what they want. They are not young children who will eventually find what interests them (as I am keen on doing with both of my kids). It can be easy to chase after someone else’s mop when you don’t intend to clean the floor, but it seems much more difficult to give up chasing after others if that’s all you’re used to doing. Eventually, you need to set down the mop, and pick up something you want to do.

Questions:

Q1. Why do the kids like to mop?

Q2. According to the author, one son wants to mop the floor. Why does the other one want to use the mop?

Q3. What is the article about?

Scroll down ↓ for the answers

A1. Because they have seen their father do it.

.

A2. Because he wants what his brother has.

A3. Choosing what interests you; not just copying what others do.

I have a question for the students of Ritsumeikan University - are you bi-cultural? Have you ever had the opportunity to live (or study) in a foreign country for long enough to become familiar with its culture? As for me, I have had the good fortune to live in England (my home country) and Japan for long periods of time. Therefore, I have become familiar with the cultures of both countries. One of the main advantages of being bi-cultural is that you are able to compare and contrast nations and cultures. Like all countries, England and Japan have attractive points as well as some less-appealing ones. I would like to discuss some of the more attractive points about living in Japan, when compared with England, as well as some of its less-appealing ones. 

First, I love travelling by train and Japan has perhaps the best railway network in the world – far better than England’s. Unlike my home country, you can usually rely on Japanese trains to arrive on time. The passengers tend to be considerate to others such as not using their mobile phones or speaking loudly while on board. Furthermore, Japanese trains are usually clean because passengers almost always dispose of their rubbish at the end of their journey. Unfortunately, the English tend to leave their rubbish on the seats and tables in the train. 

Next, there is little vandalism in Japan. Japanese people tend to respect other people’s belongings which I am afraid is not always the case in England. Did you know that a recent public cycle-sharing scheme in the northern city of Manchester was stopped because more than half of the bikes were either vandalised, stolen or thrown into the city’s canal? As an Englishman, I am not only deeply saddened by this thoughtless vandalism, but also perplexed by this behaviour. Why are the English and Japanese so different in this regard? It is a complex question, which I cannot answer with any great depth here. However, I suspect the answer is deeply rooted in the differing education systems, cultural and social norms. 

Now, I would like to discuss a few things that I dislike about Japan when compared to England. Firstly, I hate the habits of slurping and sniffing. Although I can barely tolerate the culture of slurping noodles, I loathe it when the Japanese slurp their tea and coffee. However, what is even more annoying than slurping is sniffing. I dislike it when people sniff constantly, especially in enclosed spaces such as restaurants or on public transport. When I was a child at school, if I sniffed a teacher would usually offer me a tissue. I am sorely tempted to do the same with Japanese ‘sniffers.’ Just seeing the reaction would be worth the effort!

Another thing that I dislike about Japan is the regular absence of polite ‘small talk’ in everyday situations. In England, neighbours, shop assistants, café workers and so on, often initiate friendly conversation by asking “how are you today?”, “terrible weather, isn't it?”, “are you busy at the moment?” or something similar. However, in the block of flats where I live in Kyoto, some of my Japanese neighbours do not even acknowledge me, not in the lift or in the foyer of the building. It appears that I do not exist to them. I wonder why this happens? Have I upset my neighbours in some way? I do not think so, as I pride myself on being a polite and considerate one. Nor is language a hurdle as I can speak Japanese – not perfectly, but I can communicate pretty well. In addition, although I often go to the same cafes in Kyoto and am served by the same people, there is little effort on their part to converse with me. I have often initiated ‘small talk’ but it has usually ended in failure. Although Japanese service is efficient, I consider it cold, as if being served by an android. Therefore, Japanese service often lacks the warmth of customer service that can sometimes be found in England. 

In conclusion, being bi-cultural is a blessing in many ways, not least because it enables you to compare and contrast. It allows you to appreciate the finer points of a country, but also be conscious of its less pleasant ones. Therefore, being bi-cultural helps you to manage your own expectations when travelling, so when I arrive back to my home country I am mentally prepared for disruptions and annoyances on the railway. In contrast, upon my return to Japan, I look forward to travelling by train, as it is so often a pleasant way to travel. That is unless someone is sniffing next to me during the journey! I hope that you will be able to become bi-cultural in the future and discover the many pleasures, as well as occasional annoyances, which other countries and cultures may offer.

Q1. What are the two main good points about living in Japan?

Q2. What are three main bad points about living in Japan? 

Q3. What are the reasons for the differences between England and Japan regarding vandalism? 

Scroll down for answers

A1. The train network and the lack of vandalism

A2. Lack of polite small talk, slurping and sniffing

A3. The differing education systems, cultural and social norms

A sunny autumn day like today is a liminal time, an in-between state, when something is at its birthing stage. A fresh new beginning has just begun to open its tight bud into a slow blossom. Tsubaki camellia flowers strike a pose, wearing soft pink petals like a multi-layered evening gown. Fresh new leaves, a very dark matcha green, offer up the soft buds of flowers with a very distinct contrast. Deep autumn is just around the corner. Fresh new amber orange and red in their fantastic colors vie for attention. Two years ago, in 2020, when the Covid-19 pandemic halted the world to an almost complete stop, I discovered a secret joy. I was afraid to say it. Too many people all over the world were suffering. Many lost loved ones. Some stood at death’s door. Others battled awful symptoms. Some luckily won over the corona virus with a sniffle and a sneeze. But no doubt, countless people suffered in their own way. In the midst of all of this, I carried this secret joy. I could not share this with anyone. It didn’t feel right to voice it out loud when so many were suffering.

Like last year, I made my way to the spot where I discovered this joy. The afternoon sun was warm on my face. I couldn’t help but hum my favorite song. Can a day be as perfect as this? Everywhere I looked there were hints of autumn colors. I quickly made my way to my destination – Nanzenji temple. Last year, I had the temple to myself, a breathtaking but simple architecture – so still, ever gentle. Standing in this open space with hardly anyone around, I breathed in refreshing air, and I breathed out the stress of the frightening 24/7 news cycle of illness, death, doubt, and strife that had become a part of everyday life. What had this temple witnessed over the many centuries of its existence? Now, it became my oasis. It offered me a quiet, calming joy, almost like an extended helping hand. Since then, I have been savoring this soothing feeling of being surrounded by this breath-taking beauty and the joy of having it all to myself.

But lo and behold… What is this? Who are they? What is going on? Stop, stop, stop! Cameras clicked, loud laughter echoed in the chilly air, buzz of non-stop conversation whirling around my head, cars honking, the burned smell of rubber spewing out dark fumes from tour buses, the high-pitched voices of young tour guides mindlessly carrying high their little flag. No, this can’t be. A heavy feeling found a place in the pit of my stomach. The once high feeling slowly but surely dissipated to an increasing low. The serene Nanzenji, a place of quiet calm, the seat of Zen, was overrun once again. “Life as usual,” “Back to Normal,” “With Corona,” threatened my secret joy, this rare moment of quiet, the essence of Zen. Experiencing history, tradition, and ritual of calm in temples like Nanzenji is what I had been savoring within these two years of the pandemic. I knew that it would not last long. 

Now, on this beautiful day, I am once again one among thousands, making an autumn-foliage pilgrimage to Nanzenji. Disappointed, I weakly hold up my camera, trying to capture that perfect shot of what my eyes behold. I try my best to ignore the mass of people. Click! I frown at the shot of a passerby’s tip of his white sneaker that invades my picture. Delete! The sun shines through the dark orange leaves. Ah, beautiful. I point my camera at that perfect shot, the side view of the temple peeking through the colorful foliage. I wait to click. A person in front is taking forever to get his own perfect shot. He finally moves out of my way. I hurriedly point the camera back at the leaves and the edge of the strikingly regal wooden temple. The sunray now has shifted. I lower my camera. Irritably, I walk through the over-crowded temple ground. 

Lovers walk hand in hand. Families talk, run, pose for one another. Selfie sticks swim through the crowd. A young girl quickly readjusts her front bangs with one free hand and then smiles into her smart phone held six feet away. Taking in these images like a slow-moving picture, my secret joy slips through my fingers. I walk heavyhearted on to the side-street away from the crowd. Wait. What is this? The sun-ray beckons me ever so quietly. I follow it. I hear the whispered invitation through a rustled wind moving through the colored leaves. I look through a half open door. This moment – a re-encounter with this knowing joy, it is here. It never left. I just needed to look closer. The discovery, the joy of seeing the beauty in the very small things, ever so quiet, very subtle, but definitely present, quickened my heartbeat. This small temple, posing now so elegantly before my eyes, may not be the grand and beautiful main attraction, but it imbues a beauty of its own, waiting quietly for that moment of mutual discovery. The secret of finding joy in the small things, present everywhere, always ready to be seen and discovered, made this autumn day… well… perfect.

Q1 Why was the writer afraid to verbalize her secret joy? 

Q2 Where was the primary place where the writer found this secret joy?

Q3 Why did the writer feel that the secret joy was slipping away?

Scroll down for answers

A1 Too many people all over the world were suffering. 

A2 Nanzenji temple.  

A3 Because many visitors and tourists are once again overcrowding historical sites of Kyoto.