Abroad in Japan by Chris Broad Ten years in the Land of the Rising Sun
What's it about?
Abroad in Japan (2023) follows the experiences of an Englishman who, with no teaching experience and limited knowledge of the language, embarks on a life-changing adventure in rural Japan. It explores a decade of cultural clashes, humor, and personal growth, offering a look at the complexities of life in one of the world’s most fascinating cultures.
In a chandelier-lit room at the Japanese Embassy, one anxious applicant sat beside a grammar test he’d probably flunked, trying not to sweat through his suit. Chris Broad wanted a teaching job in Japan. All that stood in his way were two interviewers: a polite Japanese man and a sterner British one. Neither looked thrilled to be there.
He tried to come across as upbeat, eager, and genki – a word he’d learned meant lively or energetic, though no one had ever used it to describe him. He smiled too hard. He answered “no” when asked how his Japanese was, then panicked and backtracked. He said he’d live “anywhere in the countryside,” even “in a cave in Hokkaido.” Worse, when asked why he’d initially picked Kobe as a preferred location, his honest answer was “the beef.”
Then came the final trap: explain wabi-sabi, a famous Japanese concept he barely understood. He froze, stumbled, and mumbled something vague and emotional. Somehow, they liked it.
Three months later, to his complete shock, he got in. He’d been accepted onto Japan’s biggest teaching exchange, despite saying almost nothing that made sense. A move of nearly 10,000 kilometers was now real – he was heading off to live in a country he barely knew, doing a job he wasn’t sure he could do, with only a strong sense of curiosity and a questionable smile to carry him through.
In this lesson, you’ll find out how one man’s unexpected journey through rural Japan turns into a series of funny, culture-shocking encounters. From awkward moments in the classroom to viral internet fame, discover what it’s really like to live, teach, and adapt in a foreign country.
Landing a teaching job in Japan through the JET Program felt like winning the lottery for Chris. But instead of Tokyo or Kyoto, he found himself in Yamagata – a rural spot surrounded by endless rice fields and the kind of weather that makes you question your life choices. August in the inaka – or countryside – is no joke: think relentless heat and humidity that weighs heavily on you with rotisserie chickens on every corner and cicadas buzzing nonstop.
Driving was another surprise. Chris’s friend James, a veteran JET, picked him up in a Kei car – one of those tiny Japanese vehicles that look like a hatchback’s been compressed and then stretched tall. Inside, there’s barely any room between the driver and passenger, let alone cup holders. Powered by a 660cc engine, these cars zip through narrow streets and come with tax perks, but Chris wondered if a crash would flatten him like a pancake. James reassured him – “They’ve got airbags!” – but the nervousness stuck around, especially when navigating winding country roads with barely a shoulder to spare.
The real culture shock came with his first visit to an onsen, Japan’s famous hot springs. Here, the rules are clear: you get in naked, no exceptions. For someone from the UK, where public nudity is a nightmare, stepping into a steamy bathhouse filled with locals was nerve-wracking. Thankfully, James handed over modesty towels to cover the essentials, though for Chris, it hardly felt like enough. The bathing ritual itself – sitting to wash yourself thoroughly before entering the scorching 115°F pools – was surprisingly soothing, even if Chris felt like he might boil alive. He quickly learned the strict etiquette: keep your towel out of the water and avoid splashing, or risk sharp stares from the seasoned bathers.
After the baths, sprawled on tatami mats and glowing red from the heat, Chris met a kind elderly man who offered him a basket of Yamagata’s famous cherries. They were so perfect and juicy, the idea of sharing never even crossed his mind. Moments like that started to make the overwhelming newness of Japan a little easier to bear.
The first time Chris stood in front of his Japanese classroom, things didn’t go as planned. He tried to break the ice with jokes, but the students either stared blankly or burst out laughing at the wrong times, making it hard to keep control. At one point, the whiteboard nearly fell off the wall mid-lesson, forcing Chris into an impromptu save that somehow didn’t derail the class. The language barrier was a constant challenge. Although Chris was supposed to use only English in class, students occasionally switched to Japanese, complicating communication and classroom management.
Chris’s biggest challenge came with kanji, the complex Japanese characters that don’t follow a phonetic system and can have multiple meanings depending on context. The sheer number of characters – in the thousands – was daunting, and with language proficiency tests focused on kanji and grammar, he failed his first attempt. Even when he knew what to say, the fear of making mistakes in front of students sometimes caused him to hesitate.
Teaching had its share of mishaps. Chris once wrote a kanji incorrectly on the board, and a student quickly corrected him with a grin. Cultural differences also affected the classroom dynamic – students sometimes avoided answering questions to prevent embarrassment, leaving Chris to talk into a silent void. At one point, a student bluntly asked Chris why he was so tall, catching him off guard and breaking the tension with laughter. Situations like these brought a mix of frustration and humor to the teaching experience.
Then came the brutal winter near the Ou Mountains. Snow piled so high that Chris spent hours shoveling just to get from one building to another. The cold was biting, and icy roads made daily life a challenge. Snowstorms disrupted travel and turned simple tasks into endurance tests. Heating barely kept the chill out, and the endless white landscape looked like a frozen obstacle course.
Chris’s experiences reveal a fascinating side of Japanese social life, especially through his encounters with izakayas – casual Japanese pubs – and hostess clubs.
When entering an izakaya, there’s an enthusiastic greeting of Irasshaimase! – which means “Welcome!” This phrase is shouted by staff to signal the start of the lively atmosphere, not just as a formality but as a way to pull customers into the convivial space. People come to izakayas to unwind over drinks and share food. The clinking of glasses is accompanied by a hearty Kanpai! or “Cheers!”
And then there was the more complex, expensive side of social life, kyabakura – hostess clubs. Chris once sat between two hostesses who attentively lit his cigarettes and poured whisky, while complimenting his “cool foreigner” image. The club had smoky, red-lit rooms filled with laughter and persistent cheer from hostesses encouraging customers to drink more. Being a hostess isn’t easy: they’re expected to stay upbeat, keep the conversation flowing, drink with customers, and smile throughout it all.
There was also a middle-aged salaryman – a Japanese white-collar worker – singing karaoke loudly, supported by enthusiastic female staff. For many salarymen, these clubs offer a costly escape from work stress and isolation; they’re willing to pay steep prices for the company and flattering attention of hostesses. Keiko, the club owner and manager, ran a tight ship and encouraged customers to buy bottles of shochu – a distilled rice spirit – to store for future visits.
Despite Japan’s reputation for healthy eating and slim figures, Chris quickly discovered his waistline was expanding. Far from the sushi-and-pickles diet he’d expected, his days were filled with hearty bowls of thick ramen noodles and crispy katsu curries – comfort food that hit the spot on cold winter days.
His health check was a rude awakening: high cholesterol, an obesity warning, and a BMI that qualified him as overweight by Japanese standards. His colleagues and students didn’t hold back either, teasing him about his expanding belly with good-natured but blunt remarks – a style of social pressure that was both surprising and motivating.
Even Japan’s government has a “Metabo Law” in place to keep waistlines in check, requiring companies to measure employees and encourage weight loss if needed. For Chris, this mix of indulgence, social teasing, and serious health rules showed another side of life in Japan – one where even a foreigner couldn’t escape the weight of expectation.
Chris decided to climb Mount Fuji to experience the sunrise from its summit, encouraged by a saying he’d often heard: A wise man climbs Fuji once; only a fool climbs it twice. Under-prepared and sleep-deprived after a poor night in a noisy capsule hotel, he arrived at the start of the trail in the late afternoon. The black volcanic peak loomed above as he and his friend George set out, dressed lightly in shorts and jackets despite falling temperatures.
Early on, they encountered a group of veteran Japanese hikers bundled in proper gear. Noticing Chris and George’s minimal clothing, one elderly climber said, “Eeh! You must be so very cold!” After they reassured him, he cheerfully offered encouragement and wished them well.
The climb grew more demanding as darkness fell. Vending machines dotted the route, their prices rising sharply with the altitude. At one rest stop, Chris paused for udon noodles, grateful for the salty broth after hours of heavy sweating. The thin air made it harder to breathe, and fatigue set in with each steep section. George, stronger and more rested, pushed ahead while Chris continued alone, his phone’s light illuminating the black volcanic soil that seemed to absorb every beam.
Approaching the summit, Chris joined a bottleneck of climbers waiting to reach the top before sunrise. Vendors offered sake at the peak, though Chris, exhausted and freezing, declined. The only public restroom housed a handful of climbers sleeping under the warm pipes. Chris worried about George, who was shaking badly from the cold, his legs exposed to sub-zero temperatures.
Finally, the sky brightened. The first light revealed a sweeping view, and the restrained hikers erupted in cheers. They expressed open joy, shouting Dekita! or “We did it!” Chris sat in quiet awe, overwhelmed by the beauty and the shared accomplishment. As they descended, the cheerful climber from earlier spotted them again and laughed, “Sugoi! You are alive! Next time, please bring more clothes.”
When Chris returned to school for his second year of teaching in rural Japan, he wasn’t expecting disaster on day one. But that morning, a student jumped from a fourth-floor window. Though the boy survived with broken bones, the staff were shaken. The event exposed the harsh pressure Japanese students face. Bullying, or ijime, often leaves victims isolated and desperate. Chris had seen students hesitate to answer questions, afraid to stand out. Conformity runs deep in Japanese culture, where even being a top student can attract ridicule instead of praise.
Before his move, Chris had started a YouTube channel called Abroad in Japan, aiming to capture life in rural areas few foreigners had explored. As his channel steadily grew alongside his teaching job, one early viral hit featured coworkers practicing English swear words from an absurd book called How to Use Fuck. Naturally, some foreign viewers criticized Chris, acting like self-appointed guardians of Japanese culture – even though they hadn’t lived in Japan themselves. But plenty of others around the world found the innocent, eager delivery of harsh language genuinely entertaining.
As time passed, Chris grew more confident in his teaching, his language skills, and his place in the community. But after several years, the daily repetition of grammar drills and stiff textbooks had worn thin, and he decided not to renew his contract. Saying goodbye was painful. Teachers, students, and friends gathered to see him off, many in tears, waving from the airport rooftop as his plane took off.
Starting fresh in Sendai in the north of Japan wasn’t easy. Without a job or visa, he stayed in a smoky business hotel, unable to rent an apartment as landlords repeatedly turned him away for being a foreigner. Money ran low, and isolation set in. Then, almost by accident, a simple video reviewing McDonald’s fries topped with chocolate sauce exploded in popularity overnight. The viral success opened new doors, including a chance to collaborate with a local business contact who saw potential in his growing channel. Against the odds, Chris’s online project was suddenly turning into something much bigger.
After facing the challenge of finding a stable living situation in Sendai, Chris finally secured his own apartment in October 2016. No longer living out of hotels or temporary accommodations, he felt a sense of relief and a fresh start.
Despite the struggles, his YouTube channel, Abroad in Japan, was still growing. Then, in a lucky twist, an Australian filmmaker asked Chris to host a documentary about Japan’s quirky cat culture. Chris wasn’t exactly a cat person and had no professional experience – but that had never stopped him before. Though he wasn’t sure how he’d come across on camera, the finished documentary, Cat Nation, turned out to be full of funny and strange moments centered around cats.
Meanwhile, his new life in Japan was complicated by an unexpected event – a missile alert from North Korea in September 2017. Awoken in the middle of the night by sirens, Chris filmed himself in disbelief. His raw, off-the-cuff video became a viral sensation, capturing millions of views and unexpectedly elevating his profile as a public figure. Though his approach was criticized by some, the video led to widespread media attention, and even international recognition. The incident culminated in an unexpected appearance at a major award ceremony in Japan, where he won the prestigious “Words of the Year” award.
In March 2022, a powerful earthquake struck Sendai, shaking Chris’s long-held sense of safety. For the first time, his fascination with Japan’s natural disasters turned into genuine fear. The intense shuddering and panic left him questioning his future.
But as life slowly returned to normal, Chris made a clear choice: he wouldn’t let fear drive him away. This earthquake became another test of resilience – and he faced it head-on, determined to stay and move forward.
The main takeaway of this lesson to Abroad in Japan by Chris Broad is that life in a foreign country is a mix of humor, challenges, and cultural surprises.
From the harsh realities of rural Japan’s weather to the struggles of teaching a new language, Chris’s experiences capture both the awkward and enriching aspects of living abroad. His misadventures in the classroom, viral videos, and the ups and downs of adapting to Japanese customs show how humor, perseverance, and openness to new experiences can help overcome the toughest moments. Ultimately, it’s a reminder that embracing discomfort can lead to unexpected personal growth and unforgettable memories.
Abroad in Japan (2023) follows the experiences of an Englishman who, with no teaching experience and limited knowledge of the language, embarks on a life-changing adventure in rural Japan. It explores a decade of cultural clashes, humor, and personal growth, offering a look at the complexities of life in one of the world’s most fascinating cultures.
In a chandelier-lit room at the Japanese Embassy, one anxious applicant sat beside a grammar test he’d probably flunked, trying not to sweat through his suit. Chris Broad wanted a teaching job in Japan. All that stood in his way were two interviewers: a polite Japanese man and a sterner British one. Neither looked thrilled to be there.
He tried to come across as upbeat, eager, and genki – a word he’d learned meant lively or energetic, though no one had ever used it to describe him. He smiled too hard. He answered “no” when asked how his Japanese was, then panicked and backtracked. He said he’d live “anywhere in the countryside,” even “in a cave in Hokkaido.” Worse, when asked why he’d initially picked Kobe as a preferred location, his honest answer was “the beef.”
Then came the final trap: explain wabi-sabi, a famous Japanese concept he barely understood. He froze, stumbled, and mumbled something vague and emotional. Somehow, they liked it.
Three months later, to his complete shock, he got in. He’d been accepted onto Japan’s biggest teaching exchange, despite saying almost nothing that made sense. A move of nearly 10,000 kilometers was now real – he was heading off to live in a country he barely knew, doing a job he wasn’t sure he could do, with only a strong sense of curiosity and a questionable smile to carry him through.
In this lesson, you’ll find out how one man’s unexpected journey through rural Japan turns into a series of funny, culture-shocking encounters. From awkward moments in the classroom to viral internet fame, discover what it’s really like to live, teach, and adapt in a foreign country.
Landing a teaching job in Japan through the JET Program felt like winning the lottery for Chris. But instead of Tokyo or Kyoto, he found himself in Yamagata – a rural spot surrounded by endless rice fields and the kind of weather that makes you question your life choices. August in the inaka – or countryside – is no joke: think relentless heat and humidity that weighs heavily on you with rotisserie chickens on every corner and cicadas buzzing nonstop.
Driving was another surprise. Chris’s friend James, a veteran JET, picked him up in a Kei car – one of those tiny Japanese vehicles that look like a hatchback’s been compressed and then stretched tall. Inside, there’s barely any room between the driver and passenger, let alone cup holders. Powered by a 660cc engine, these cars zip through narrow streets and come with tax perks, but Chris wondered if a crash would flatten him like a pancake. James reassured him – “They’ve got airbags!” – but the nervousness stuck around, especially when navigating winding country roads with barely a shoulder to spare.
The real culture shock came with his first visit to an onsen, Japan’s famous hot springs. Here, the rules are clear: you get in naked, no exceptions. For someone from the UK, where public nudity is a nightmare, stepping into a steamy bathhouse filled with locals was nerve-wracking. Thankfully, James handed over modesty towels to cover the essentials, though for Chris, it hardly felt like enough. The bathing ritual itself – sitting to wash yourself thoroughly before entering the scorching 115°F pools – was surprisingly soothing, even if Chris felt like he might boil alive. He quickly learned the strict etiquette: keep your towel out of the water and avoid splashing, or risk sharp stares from the seasoned bathers.
After the baths, sprawled on tatami mats and glowing red from the heat, Chris met a kind elderly man who offered him a basket of Yamagata’s famous cherries. They were so perfect and juicy, the idea of sharing never even crossed his mind. Moments like that started to make the overwhelming newness of Japan a little easier to bear.
The first time Chris stood in front of his Japanese classroom, things didn’t go as planned. He tried to break the ice with jokes, but the students either stared blankly or burst out laughing at the wrong times, making it hard to keep control. At one point, the whiteboard nearly fell off the wall mid-lesson, forcing Chris into an impromptu save that somehow didn’t derail the class. The language barrier was a constant challenge. Although Chris was supposed to use only English in class, students occasionally switched to Japanese, complicating communication and classroom management.
Chris’s biggest challenge came with kanji, the complex Japanese characters that don’t follow a phonetic system and can have multiple meanings depending on context. The sheer number of characters – in the thousands – was daunting, and with language proficiency tests focused on kanji and grammar, he failed his first attempt. Even when he knew what to say, the fear of making mistakes in front of students sometimes caused him to hesitate.
Teaching had its share of mishaps. Chris once wrote a kanji incorrectly on the board, and a student quickly corrected him with a grin. Cultural differences also affected the classroom dynamic – students sometimes avoided answering questions to prevent embarrassment, leaving Chris to talk into a silent void. At one point, a student bluntly asked Chris why he was so tall, catching him off guard and breaking the tension with laughter. Situations like these brought a mix of frustration and humor to the teaching experience.
Then came the brutal winter near the Ou Mountains. Snow piled so high that Chris spent hours shoveling just to get from one building to another. The cold was biting, and icy roads made daily life a challenge. Snowstorms disrupted travel and turned simple tasks into endurance tests. Heating barely kept the chill out, and the endless white landscape looked like a frozen obstacle course.
Chris’s experiences reveal a fascinating side of Japanese social life, especially through his encounters with izakayas – casual Japanese pubs – and hostess clubs.
When entering an izakaya, there’s an enthusiastic greeting of Irasshaimase! – which means “Welcome!” This phrase is shouted by staff to signal the start of the lively atmosphere, not just as a formality but as a way to pull customers into the convivial space. People come to izakayas to unwind over drinks and share food. The clinking of glasses is accompanied by a hearty Kanpai! or “Cheers!”
And then there was the more complex, expensive side of social life, kyabakura – hostess clubs. Chris once sat between two hostesses who attentively lit his cigarettes and poured whisky, while complimenting his “cool foreigner” image. The club had smoky, red-lit rooms filled with laughter and persistent cheer from hostesses encouraging customers to drink more. Being a hostess isn’t easy: they’re expected to stay upbeat, keep the conversation flowing, drink with customers, and smile throughout it all.
There was also a middle-aged salaryman – a Japanese white-collar worker – singing karaoke loudly, supported by enthusiastic female staff. For many salarymen, these clubs offer a costly escape from work stress and isolation; they’re willing to pay steep prices for the company and flattering attention of hostesses. Keiko, the club owner and manager, ran a tight ship and encouraged customers to buy bottles of shochu – a distilled rice spirit – to store for future visits.
Despite Japan’s reputation for healthy eating and slim figures, Chris quickly discovered his waistline was expanding. Far from the sushi-and-pickles diet he’d expected, his days were filled with hearty bowls of thick ramen noodles and crispy katsu curries – comfort food that hit the spot on cold winter days.
His health check was a rude awakening: high cholesterol, an obesity warning, and a BMI that qualified him as overweight by Japanese standards. His colleagues and students didn’t hold back either, teasing him about his expanding belly with good-natured but blunt remarks – a style of social pressure that was both surprising and motivating.
Even Japan’s government has a “Metabo Law” in place to keep waistlines in check, requiring companies to measure employees and encourage weight loss if needed. For Chris, this mix of indulgence, social teasing, and serious health rules showed another side of life in Japan – one where even a foreigner couldn’t escape the weight of expectation.
Chris decided to climb Mount Fuji to experience the sunrise from its summit, encouraged by a saying he’d often heard: A wise man climbs Fuji once; only a fool climbs it twice. Under-prepared and sleep-deprived after a poor night in a noisy capsule hotel, he arrived at the start of the trail in the late afternoon. The black volcanic peak loomed above as he and his friend George set out, dressed lightly in shorts and jackets despite falling temperatures.
Early on, they encountered a group of veteran Japanese hikers bundled in proper gear. Noticing Chris and George’s minimal clothing, one elderly climber said, “Eeh! You must be so very cold!” After they reassured him, he cheerfully offered encouragement and wished them well.
The climb grew more demanding as darkness fell. Vending machines dotted the route, their prices rising sharply with the altitude. At one rest stop, Chris paused for udon noodles, grateful for the salty broth after hours of heavy sweating. The thin air made it harder to breathe, and fatigue set in with each steep section. George, stronger and more rested, pushed ahead while Chris continued alone, his phone’s light illuminating the black volcanic soil that seemed to absorb every beam.
Approaching the summit, Chris joined a bottleneck of climbers waiting to reach the top before sunrise. Vendors offered sake at the peak, though Chris, exhausted and freezing, declined. The only public restroom housed a handful of climbers sleeping under the warm pipes. Chris worried about George, who was shaking badly from the cold, his legs exposed to sub-zero temperatures.
Finally, the sky brightened. The first light revealed a sweeping view, and the restrained hikers erupted in cheers. They expressed open joy, shouting Dekita! or “We did it!” Chris sat in quiet awe, overwhelmed by the beauty and the shared accomplishment. As they descended, the cheerful climber from earlier spotted them again and laughed, “Sugoi! You are alive! Next time, please bring more clothes.”
When Chris returned to school for his second year of teaching in rural Japan, he wasn’t expecting disaster on day one. But that morning, a student jumped from a fourth-floor window. Though the boy survived with broken bones, the staff were shaken. The event exposed the harsh pressure Japanese students face. Bullying, or ijime, often leaves victims isolated and desperate. Chris had seen students hesitate to answer questions, afraid to stand out. Conformity runs deep in Japanese culture, where even being a top student can attract ridicule instead of praise.
Before his move, Chris had started a YouTube channel called Abroad in Japan, aiming to capture life in rural areas few foreigners had explored. As his channel steadily grew alongside his teaching job, one early viral hit featured coworkers practicing English swear words from an absurd book called How to Use Fuck. Naturally, some foreign viewers criticized Chris, acting like self-appointed guardians of Japanese culture – even though they hadn’t lived in Japan themselves. But plenty of others around the world found the innocent, eager delivery of harsh language genuinely entertaining.
As time passed, Chris grew more confident in his teaching, his language skills, and his place in the community. But after several years, the daily repetition of grammar drills and stiff textbooks had worn thin, and he decided not to renew his contract. Saying goodbye was painful. Teachers, students, and friends gathered to see him off, many in tears, waving from the airport rooftop as his plane took off.
Starting fresh in Sendai in the north of Japan wasn’t easy. Without a job or visa, he stayed in a smoky business hotel, unable to rent an apartment as landlords repeatedly turned him away for being a foreigner. Money ran low, and isolation set in. Then, almost by accident, a simple video reviewing McDonald’s fries topped with chocolate sauce exploded in popularity overnight. The viral success opened new doors, including a chance to collaborate with a local business contact who saw potential in his growing channel. Against the odds, Chris’s online project was suddenly turning into something much bigger.
After facing the challenge of finding a stable living situation in Sendai, Chris finally secured his own apartment in October 2016. No longer living out of hotels or temporary accommodations, he felt a sense of relief and a fresh start.
Despite the struggles, his YouTube channel, Abroad in Japan, was still growing. Then, in a lucky twist, an Australian filmmaker asked Chris to host a documentary about Japan’s quirky cat culture. Chris wasn’t exactly a cat person and had no professional experience – but that had never stopped him before. Though he wasn’t sure how he’d come across on camera, the finished documentary, Cat Nation, turned out to be full of funny and strange moments centered around cats.
Meanwhile, his new life in Japan was complicated by an unexpected event – a missile alert from North Korea in September 2017. Awoken in the middle of the night by sirens, Chris filmed himself in disbelief. His raw, off-the-cuff video became a viral sensation, capturing millions of views and unexpectedly elevating his profile as a public figure. Though his approach was criticized by some, the video led to widespread media attention, and even international recognition. The incident culminated in an unexpected appearance at a major award ceremony in Japan, where he won the prestigious “Words of the Year” award.
In March 2022, a powerful earthquake struck Sendai, shaking Chris’s long-held sense of safety. For the first time, his fascination with Japan’s natural disasters turned into genuine fear. The intense shuddering and panic left him questioning his future.
But as life slowly returned to normal, Chris made a clear choice: he wouldn’t let fear drive him away. This earthquake became another test of resilience – and he faced it head-on, determined to stay and move forward.
The main takeaway of this lesson to Abroad in Japan by Chris Broad is that life in a foreign country is a mix of humor, challenges, and cultural surprises.
From the harsh realities of rural Japan’s weather to the struggles of teaching a new language, Chris’s experiences capture both the awkward and enriching aspects of living abroad. His misadventures in the classroom, viral videos, and the ups and downs of adapting to Japanese customs show how humor, perseverance, and openness to new experiences can help overcome the toughest moments. Ultimately, it’s a reminder that embracing discomfort can lead to unexpected personal growth and unforgettable memories.
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