Before I came to Japan, the one thing I was most excited about was the “Bunkasai,” the school culture festival. It was that special time I’d seen in anime, where the whole class works together to create something. But the reality was far beyond anything I could have imagined.
My class decided to do a classic: an “Obakeyashiki,” or haunted house. Honestly, at first, I thought, “Isn’t this a little childish?” But that thought was blown away in an instant.
After school, our classroom transformed into our secret base. A classmate who was usually quiet showed up with internet research on how to make fake blood. A girl from the art club started painting a genuinely terrifying backdrop. The language barrier didn’t matter; we were all just kids painting cardboard black, choosing spooky background music, and debating until late every night about the best way to make our guests scream.
It was seriously hard work, but feeling our class become one team day by day—that process was the most fun part of all.
And then, the day of the festival finally arrived. An unbelievable line of students had formed in front of our classroom. From inside, we could hear screams, followed by the smiling faces of people coming out saying, “That was so scary, but it was awesome!” We all looked at each other in the corner of the classroom and made a triumphant fist pump. I will never forget the feeling of that moment.
After the festival ended, we all ate yakisoba that another class had made while cleaning up our now-demolished classroom. It tasted better than any fancy meal I had eaten in Japan.
That wasn’t just a school event. It was the day that we, regardless of nationality or language, truly became “nakama”—a real team. It was my “seishun,” my perfect youthful moment.
