Who would have thought? For someone who’s terrified of New York City I found myself deep in disbelief that I was aboard a 747 heading across the Pacific to TOKYO, JAPAN!

Inside my head, questions were spewing. Do the Japanese eat rice for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? Is sushi really better over there? How will we communicate when I can’t even read a single word in Japanese!? Once the plane landed, however, I forgot all of my worries and curiosity took over.
 
Before arriving I imagined high-end technologies, sushi feasts, friendly people, and lovely Japanese art. However, on my second day in Tokyo, I was already hard at work on a volunteer project, sweating buckets, hacking weeds and slapping away pesky mosquitoes. Sticky, hot, and in the middle of bamboo and maples, I wondered, “Is this the Japan I had envisioned?” Our first destination was the Tokyo Wild Bird Park and international volunteer work camp, where young people from all around the world come to help maintain the park that is a habitat for nearly 100 species of migrating birds. There was pruning to do, weeding to tackle, meals to prepare, and bamboo shades to make for the nature centre -- there was always something to do! Four days of working side by side with volunteers from other countries and the Japanese staff of the bird park gave me a sense of cross-cultural experiences in Japan and helped me appreciate the rest of the trip.

The unique experience was made even more interesting by the uniqueness of our group. There were people who use wheelchairs, people who were blind, and the Deaf. Exciting, superb, fantastic and really so cool! I felt like we were on this disability and cultural challenge, trying to break through international barriers!

Having done my share of travelling, I think I was secretly the cynical one. Being Deaf is not a physical barrier. I travel, draw, read, write, chat, drive, I do just about everything except hear. However, by the week’s end, I was taken aback. There were unquestionably barriers, but the barriers were different for each of us, coming in many forms; physical, cross-disability, communication, or mental. Strangely enough these barriers formed a connection between all of us. Being in Japan alongside my fellow exchange participants and Japanese people with disabilities was a daily reminder that each of us, even if we are optimistic, shares the challenge of communication in our daily lives.

For me, this meant having interpreters around or a pen/paper on hand. For other group members, it meant expressing their needs. For instance they may have asked one of us for a quick wheelchair push up a steep ramp, or to lend a shoulder to guide them over unfamiliar sidewalks. One way or another, we made our presence in Tokyo known! Taking public transportation everywhere we went, We found ourselves in unpredictable situations where there were no elevators or the elevator was tiny, not big enough for power wheelchairs to roll in. We all problem-solved, including the subway attendants who were nervously scratching their heads with apologetic expressions. Fear not, giving up was the last thing we could do! A final solution meant half of the group rolling away into taxis and we still invaded Tokyo, one way or another. By the end of the day we were laughing, ‘Tokyo, like it or not, we’re HERE!’

Despite any of my original doubts, I returned from Japan bubbling with enthusiasm. The MIUSA exchange program taught me that disability is a part of who we are and how we identify ourselves. Our disability identity in no way pulls us down. Exploring Tokyo, chatting with my friends who use wheelchairs, or guiding those with visual impairments, I saw that we are just cross-cultural sponges in a dazzling huge city, soaking up the experience and breaking barriers.

I will never look at Japan the same again. It is truly astounding; full of deep cultural roots, customs, and traditions. Much to my complete satisfaction, I had my sushi date, practice at learning Japanese sign language, experience living with a Japanese family, and had rounds of good conversations.

The bottom line? I might not be able to hear, but I listened. All throughout the trip I listened. With or without disabilities, life is what you make out of it. For a girl who’s afraid of New York City – BRING IT ON!