TokyoDev

Beyond Japan’s Big Cities: Life as a Software Engineer in Kumamoto

2026-05-29T16:50:25+09:00

When people imagine a software engineering career in Japan, they usually picture working in Tokyo.

The general vision is easy to grasp: large offices, long train commutes, endless job opportunities, and a tech scene concentrated in one major metropolitan area.

But that’s just one version of working in tech in Japan. Instead, I work fully remotely as a software engineer for a company based in Tokyo while living in Kumamoto, a city of around 700,000 people located on the Japanese island of Kyushu.

By the time I joined my current company, I had already been living and working in Kumamoto for about two years, as my previous employer had a branch office there. When I decided to change jobs, I was fortunate to find a company that allowed me to continue living in Kumamoto while working remotely.

For many people interested in working in Japan, living somewhere other than Tokyo or Osaka may not even seem like a realistic option. But from my experience, it is very possible. At the same time, it comes with trade-offs that are important to understand.

In this article, I want to share what I’ve learned from living and working this way: the advantages, the disadvantages, and what type of person is most likely to prefer this lifestyle.

The benefits of living outside a big city
The downsides of not living in a major hub
Is working remotely in Japan worth it?

Why I chose life outside the big city

Lower rent

This may be the most obvious benefit, but its impact on my daily life is bigger than I expected.

1K apartment comparison

I currently live in a 1K apartment in Kumamoto City, and my monthly rent is around 41,000 yen. When I first moved here, this was enough for my lifestyle. After I began working remotely, I realized that a small apartment with limited space can start to feel uncomfortable, especially when the same room is used for work, rest, and daily life.

Still, even this small apartment shows one of the advantages of living in a regional city. According to CHINTAI’s rental market data, the average rent for a 1K apartment in Kumamoto City is around 37,000 yen per month, based on the average across its five wards. In comparison, a 1K apartment in Tokyo’s 23 wards averages around 117,000 yen per month. For context, CHINTAI says its rent averages are calculated from listings currently published on CHINTAI, generally for properties constructed within the last 20 years and excluding management and parking fees.

2LDK apartment comparison

Remote work has also changed what I value in housing. Home is not just where I sleep anymore. It is also my office and my breakroom. Because of that, I have started thinking more seriously about having a separate workspace at home.

I am currently considering moving to a larger apartment, possibly a 2LDK, when my current apartment contract ends. In Kumamoto City, this still feels realistic. Based on CHINTAI’s data, the average rent for a 2LDK across Kumamoto City’s five wards is around 67,000 yen per month.

In central Tokyo, however, a similar apartment would be much more expensive. The average rent for a 2LDK in Tokyo’s 23 wards is around 255,000 yen per month, and in central areas it can be even higher. For example, some central wards such as Chiyoda, Chuo, Minato, Shinjuku, and Shibuya often average well above 300,000 yen per month for a 2LDK.

This is one of the biggest advantages of living in a regional city while working remotely. I can live cheaply if I want to, but even if I decide to spend more for a larger and more comfortable home office setup, it would still be much more affordable than living in central Tokyo.

A quieter, less hectic daily experience

One of the things I appreciate about living in Kumamoto is that daily life feels calmer. There are fewer crowds, less noise, and less of the constant hustle and bustle that people often associate with large urban centers. This is not only something I notice on weekends or holidays, but also in small moments after work.

Since I work fully remotely from my apartment, I sometimes take a walk around my neighborhood after spending the whole day indoors. It helps me keep my body moving and gives me a clear mental break between work and personal time.

One place I like to visit is a cafe near Kamiezu Lake in Kumamoto, which is about a ten-minute walk from my apartment. Because it is close to the lake, I can sit down with a drink and enjoy the view.

My favorite drink there is the Rich Matcha Latte Frappe, but when I want something warm, I sometimes order a caramel latte with a donut. Spending time there after work listening to music, playing a mobile game, or reading a novel is one of my favorite ways to relax.

Cafe near Kamiezu Lake: Eto Boat House

This has become one of the small routines that makes living in Kumamoto enjoyable for me. It is simple, but it gives my day a nice rhythm: work at home, take a short walk, spend some time by the lake, and return feeling refreshed. For remote work, that kind of rhythm makes a big difference.

Easier access to nature

Another benefit of living in a regional city is that nature feels much closer.

For example, Kamiezu Lake is about a ten-minute walk from my apartment, and Suizenji Jojuen Garden is about a 25-minute walk away. Both are well-known spots inside Kumamoto City, but they still feel much less crowded than similar places in Tokyo.

Because these spots are close to where I live, I can visit them casually without making it feel like a major trip. Local people also go there to enjoy the scenery, take a walk, or have a picnic with their families. For me, being able to access places like this so easily makes daily life feel more relaxed.

Suizenji Jojuen Garden

Kamiezu Lake

There are also bigger weekend trip options, such as Mount Aso, or nearby prefectures like Miyazaki and Kagoshima. To reach those places I usually travel by car, so having access to a car can make this lifestyle much easier. But even without planning a full day trip, Kumamoto has nature and scenic places close enough to enjoy in everyday life.

For someone working remotely, this proximity matters more than I expected. Since I spend most of my workdays at home, having easy access to nature helps me reset mentally. It gives me a clearer separation between work time and personal time.

Of course, if you enjoy nightlife, big events, and having endless options within walking distance, a large city may still be more attractive to you. But if you value outdoor space, quieter weekends, and the ability to recharge outside the city, living in a place like Kumamoto can be a major advantage.

The downsides of living outside a big city

Of course, this lifestyle isn’t always a winner. There are real disadvantages, and I think it’s important to be honest about them.

Fewer job opportunities if you want to change companies

Although remote work is becoming increasingly common, many opportunities in the tech sector in Japan are still concentrated in Tokyo.

Living in a regional city is easier if you already have the right job. But if you want to change companies, your options may become more limited. Some companies say they support remote work, but in reality, they still expect employees to come into the office regularly, or they prefer candidates who live near Tokyo.

This means your lifestyle may be tied to the availability of a certain type of company: businesses that truly support remote work, not just in theory, but in practice. So, while living outside of Tokyo can be convenient, it can also reduce flexibility when it comes to your next career move.

Personally I found my current company through LinkedIn. At that time, I had been working in Kumamoto for about two years and was starting to look for new opportunities. Around then, my current company was hiring for a software engineer role. The job post already mentioned remote work, so I didn’t need to negotiate for that. I soon discovered that the CEO was also working remotely from outside Tokyo, in Kyushu, so I think that may be one of the reasons why a fully remote policy was possible.

Less convenience

In Kumamoto, public transportation is convenient enough for daily life, but it is not as fast or extensive as it is in Tokyo. The main options are tram, train, and bus.

I often use the tram because it runs through the center of Kumamoto City, but it is slower than the train. The train is faster, but the routes and frequency are much more limited compared with Tokyo. Buses are useful when I need to go somewhere that is not covered by the tram or train lines, but they also require more planning due to traffic delays and transfers.

Going somewhere outside the city center can take more time than expected. For example, if I want to visit a restaurant that is a little far from central Kumamoto, the round trip can sometimes take a few hours by public transportation.

Fewer international communities

Another difference is community and networking opportunities. In Tokyo, there seem to be many international residents working in tech, which makes it easier for English-speaking tech communities to form. Because of that, it is simple to find tech meetups, networking events, or social groups, sometimes even on short notice.

In Kumamoto, those opportunities still exist, but they are much more limited. It can be difficult to do the same kind of networking here, and even when international communities exist, they are not necessarily focused on tech. For example, there are language and cultural exchange events, and they can be good places to meet people, but not to advance your tech career.

When I was working onsite at my previous company in Kumamoto, I sometimes came across information about local tech events through our office. After I started working remotely, however, I no longer had that kind of casual flow of information from people around me. So now I need to be more proactive about looking for events online.

I have used Connpass to search for local tech events in Kumamoto. Events do exist, but compared to Tokyo, the number is much smaller. Depending on the month, there may only be one or two events that are relevant to me.

Fewer opportunities to build relationships in person

Remote working is efficient, but it changes the way intra-company relationships are built.

Because I live in Kumamoto and my company is based in Tokyo, I usually only meet my coworkers in person once every few months. Most of the time, our communication happens through chat and online meetings. This works well for daily tasks, but I have noticed that when communication happens mostly through chat, we tend to talk only about work.

At my company, we have an internal event called Engineer Scrum Week, which is held around once every three months. During this event, engineers gather at the Tokyo office and work onsite together for about a week.

Being in the office creates many more chances to talk about things other than work. During Engineer Scrum Week in particular, there are usually team-building activities where engineers play games or join contests prepared by the organizers. We also often have lunch together, and sometimes go out for dinner or nomikai (after-work drinks).

These moments may not look directly related to work, but I think they are important. Through casual conversation I can get to know my coworkers better as people. It becomes easier to ask questions, make small jokes, and communicate more naturally afterwards.

In that sense, occasional trips to Tokyo have been incredibly helpful. They create a better balance between the efficiency of remote work and the closeness that comes from face-to-face interaction.

At the same time, how much the distance matters probably depends on your personality. Some people may be comfortable meeting coworkers in person only occasionally, while others may prefer more frequent face-to-face communication. In my case, I enjoy remote work, but I also find that meeting people in person helps me build relationships more naturally.

Is it worth it?

For me, yes.

Living in Kumamoto while working remotely for a Tokyo-based company has shown me that it’s possible to build a software engineering career in Japan without living in Tokyo.

But I wouldn’t describe it as the universally best option. I would describe it as a good option for the right person.

If you value a lower cost of living, a quieter lifestyle, and freedom from the commute, this can be a very attractive way of life. But if you want maximum career mobility, constant face-to-face networking, or the energy of a major tech hub, then living outside a large city might feel limiting.

What matters is whether those tradeoffs align with your desired lifestyle and work environment.

Is Japanese Citizenship Right for You?

2026-05-25T13:02:29+09:00

“Everybody, I’m talking everybody in my life was like, ‘Why do you want to do this? Why give up your US [citizenship]? Just get permanent residency!’” said Brett Tanoue, IT Coordinator and owner of InJapan Consulting.

It’s a good question. Among foreign residents who opt to remain in Japan long-term or permanently, permanent residency is statistically much more popular than becoming a Japanese citizen. For example, in 2023 8,800 people in Japan received naturalization permits. By contrast, the number of permanent residency recipients was 27,633.

So why do some choose to become Japanese citizens instead? And if that is your decision, just how difficult is the naturalization process?

To find out, I interviewed two relatively new Japanese citizens: Brett Tanoue, who naturalized in 2026, and Francis Miyamoto, a Senior UI/UX Designer who naturalized in late 2022.

“Was it a difficult decision?” Miyamoto said. “Not at all—and I have zero regrets.” Instead, he and Tanoue have a host of personal experiences and insights to offer, including:

Why choose to become a Japanese citizen?
Is naturalization right for you?
The naturalization process
Final advice: start now, because it’s worth it

Why choose to become a Japanese citizen?

Naturalization vs permanent residency

In brief, permanent residency gives immigrants the right to live in Japan on a permanent basis, with very few restrictions on what work they can perform. Permanent residents can also maintain their citizenship in their home country.

However, these residents can lose their right to remain in Japan under certain circumstances, such as if they leave Japan for an extended period of time, or if they commit a serious crime. In 2024, the Immigration Control Act was amended so that permanent residents may also lose their residency if they fail to pay taxes or social insurance, although this is restricted to “malicious cases” of intentional non-payment.

By contrast, naturalizing in Japan requires immigrants to give up their citizenship in any other country. In return, the new Japanese citizen is granted several important additional rights.

These rights include:

The right to vote and be elected to public office
The right to not be deported
The ability to work without any restrictions, including in civil service
The chance to travel under a Japanese passport

The expanded rights granted to naturalized citizens was an important factor in Tanoue’s decision.

I like to exercise my right to vote, which you can only do with citizenship.

The new timeline for naturalization

Until recently, one additional reason to choose naturalization over permanent residency was that naturalization required only 5 years of residency before applying. Permanent residency, in principle, requires 10 years. This has recently changed, and now naturalization will also require 10 years of residency.

That jump from 5 years to 10 may further reduce the number of naturalization applicants. The time factor was certainly a key point in Miyamoto’s decision to naturalize. “I didn’t qualify for the points-based PR system,” he explained.

Rather than waiting a decade for residency, I went straight for naturalization, to permanently secure my right to live and work here on my own terms.

Naturalization protects your relationship with Japan

Other considerations aside, Tanoue and Miyamoto both said that naturalization made sense for them personally, because they’d formed such deep ties to the country.

A decade of roots

Miyamoto felt the connection with Tokyo, specifically, a decade before he naturalized. “[It was] a family trip in 2012. . . . Something about Tokyo just stayed with me.

“That 2012 trip led to an exchange year at Meiji Gakuin University, and Tokyo during that spring semester was nothing short of magical. I made lifelong friends, fell in love with the city, and knew I’d be back.

“After graduating in Manila, I returned in 2016 to work in HR and automotive in Nagoya—but Tokyo was always the goal. I’d always been drawn to design and the web, so in 2019 I enrolled at Le Wagon Tokyo, which gave me the perfect excuse to move back to the city and make the pivot.”

Six years later, I’m a Senior UI/UX Designer with a decade of roots here, a trilingual career built across fintech, telecom, and enterprise, and a growing creative business in Shinjuku. Leaving just doesn’t make sense anymore.

The right to permanently call Japan home

Tanoue felt similarly about Japan when he arrived after graduation in 2015. Unfortunately Japan, at least at first, didn’t love him back. “I had the most typical English-speaking first job: I was a teacher for Aeon, and I was placed in Hiroshima. . . . Then I met my wife, and we started dating, and I started thinking ‘Well, I need to get serious about my life now.’”

Since he had some IT experience in the US, he attempted to return to a tech career, but had no luck finding a good role in Japan. Eventually he, his Japanese wife, and their child relocated to the US, so that Tanoue could build up his tech resume.

“ When I moved back to the US in 2019,” he said, “it only took one month for me to be like, ‘I kind of actually really miss Japan.’ The lifestyle and everything agreed with me so much more.”

Though Covid complicated the process, Tanoue searched hard and found a better job back in Japan as soon as possible. “When we did move back to Japan, we made the decision after our second child.”

Japan is my home, and every time I visit the US it feels like a foreign country to me. So it felt more natural to go for citizenship, to have the right to call this permanently my home, than to just get PR, which is not temporary, but is a less-committed version in my mind.

Is naturalization right for you?

Naturalization was the right decision for them, but is it right for you? According to Tanoue and Miyamoto, there are several major factors to consider.

Where are you from?

Your home country, its policies on visas for Japanese citizens, and its stance on reclaiming citizenship are all important points to consider.

“If you’re from a country with a weaker passport,” said Miyamoto, “and you’ve built a real life here, naturalizing is one of the most empowering moves you can make. It permanently secures your right to live and work in Japan, regardless of political climate or employer situations.”

It also, depending on your original nationality, can make it easier to visit elsewhere. “The Japanese passport is still top-tier globally, and my Filipino passport required visas to most of the places I want to travel to—including Japan itself.”

My only caveats: confirm whether your home country allows you to reacquire citizenship or offers a favorable visa on your Japanese passport, and check that the Japanese passport gives you reasonable visa-free access to your home country too.

The way I think about it,” Miyamoto went on, “I upgraded my freedom. I can travel more freely, my living and working rights here are permanent, and as a former Filipino citizen, I can still get a long-stay visa and reclaim Philippines citizenship if I ever need to. I gained far more than I gave up.”

Where are you going?

The US doesn’t offer the opportunity to easily reacquire citizenship, so for Tanoue the decision felt quite final. Nonetheless he chose to take that step, mostly because he couldn’t imagine returning to the United States.

“I think what you need to do, if you’re considering naturalization,” he said, “is to take stock of where you are now and your final goals.

“If your goals involve going back home at any point, I wouldn’t recommend it. But if you sit down and you take stock of what’s around you—you have family here, your friends are here, your life is here, your job is here, everything is here—and especially if you are like me, where you go back home and you feel reverse culture shock, you might want to seriously consider [whether] Japanese citizenship is for [you.]”

If your whole life’s here and you realize that, and you think, ‘What do I want to do in the future?’ And you see your future in Japan . . . then to me, it’s a no-brainer.

Where do you plan to retire?

In terms of his long-term future, Miyamoto’s concerns are primarily financial.

With the weakening yen and inflation more rampant abroad, like the Philippines, I think the affordable solution would be to retire in a rural area close to Tokyo or Osaka.

“We can’t predict what’s going to happen,” he cautioned, “but at least I have some options here in Japan, and the Philippines. Former Filipinos can also apply for a retirement or permanent resident visa.”

“As of right now my plans include living and retiring in Japan,” said Tanoue when asked. “Regardless of what you may see online or overseas, my local community and friends have been more than welcoming, adaptable, and happy to hear about my choice to become a citizen.”

What about family?

“This is a huge deciding point for many who come to me [to discuss naturalization],” said Tanoue. “My family visits often, luckily, so for now it is not a big deal. I do worry about when they are older and cannot do so, however. My hopes are to have enough savings to visit them when that time comes.”

His mother did require some persuasion.

My mother was originally not on board at all. I’m an only child and she’s like, ‘No, I’m losing you.’ . . . I had to promise her that Japan and the US aren’t going back to war anytime soon. I can even visit on a Japanese visa.

There are times Tanoue deeply misses having his family nearby. “It still feels weird to be a first-time homeowner, buying a new car, running a business, etc. all on my own, and my closest English support is half a world away. My Japanese is perfectly fine for everything I need, but there’s something comforting about being in new territory needing help, and getting it in your native language from people who have done similar things.”

In Tanoue’s case, though, he also had to weigh what he thought was best for the other members of his family, particularly his children. After the birth of their second child, “[My wife and I] sat down and had a serious talk. We have two kids now. We have to decide. We can’t keep moving internationally, going back and forth. . . . We went over the pros and cons of the US versus Japan. My wife, her entire decision was basically, ‘Wherever you go, I’ll go.’ So I decided on Japan.”

I felt better raising a family here. . . . It was two years ago or so that I really thought, ‘Well, I want to buy a house. I have my kids here. We’re not moving. We’ve already decided. This is where we’re raising them.

Family was also one of the tougher aspects of Miyamoto’s decision. Initially he said that “gathering documents remotely during the pandemic” was the hardest part of naturalization.

Then he clarified why: “I had to ask my aging mother in Manila to visit government offices and secure apostilled certificates—so I sent her a care package from Don Quijote to soften the ask. That part felt emotionally heavy.”

He sometimes worries about living in a different country from his parents, but not unduly. “Right now, with them aging and me being away, it does raise concerns.”

Luckily there is only a one hour time difference [in Japan] from the Philippines, so it’s easy to Facetime, and my siblings still live with my parents so they are taken care of. Also, I can hop on a four to five hour plane ride and I’m home.

The naturalization process

Miyamoto and Tanoue both opted not to use a lawyer or scrivener to assist in their naturalization. As a result, they have considerable insight into every aspect of the process.

A DIY project

Why not use a lawyer, though? Miyamoto opted instead for peer support. “I did it myself, entirely in Japanese.”

I used [this] guide and coordinated with a small group of friends who were also going through the process at the same time—we essentially peer-supported each other through it. Honestly, that collaborative approach worked really well.

As for Tanoue, it wasn’t his first time wrangling with the Japanese bureaucracy. ”Everything in Japan has been done by myself. Even when we got married, we filed the marriage certificate ourselves. When I switched to a Spouse visa, I filed that myself. So I figured I could do everything myself: one, because I’m stubborn, and two because I really hate spending money.”

The idea of lawyers’ fees scared me and my wallet, so I [decided to] do it myself. It was a lot of hard work and research, but I did it.

A one to two year timeline

Both interviewees described the naturalization process as taking between one and two years, with long periods of waiting between developments.

“I made the final decision in early 2024,” said Tanoue.

I called them in May to make an appointment and they said the earliest we have is five months from now. They said, ‘Is that okay?’ I’m like, ‘What do you mean, is that okay? Yes. I’ll just take that. I guess it’s the earliest you have.’

“So October 2024 was my first counseling appointment. . . . And then, all the way up until the end of January this year [2026] was when I got the call. It took a little over a year and a half total.”

Miyamoto’s application took slightly less time. “I filed my application in September 2021—without a lawyer—received my notification in November 2022, and had my Japanese passport in hand by December that year. [So it took] just over a year—about 15 months from application to passport.”

That’s remarkable under the circumstances. “COVID slowed things down considerably,” Miyamoto explained, “since the Ministry of Justice paused in-person consultations during the state of emergency, so under normal circumstances it could be faster.”

The anxiety is real

Miyamoto and Tanoue agreed that the greatest difficulty was not the process itself, but managing their emotions throughout.

“[One] challenge,” Miyamoto said, “was the psychological weight of the wait. You’re sitting with uncertainty for over a year, and there’s an unwritten expectation that you stay in one job throughout—you have to declare any changes.”

I actually did switch jobs during the process due to a difficult employer, and it turned out to be a non-issue, but the anxiety of not knowing how it would be received was real.

Tanoue also experienced intense anxiety, but for a different reason. “I was told that there will 100 percent be a Japanese test. . . . They’re starting to just give everybody tests. Even people with JLPT N1.”

“I say ‘I have test anxiety,’” he explained, “but the words alone are not going to be enough . . . especially knowing that if I don’t do well, they’re gonna be like, ‘You can’t be Japanese.’ All those thoughts [were] building in my head.”

Although Tanoue speaks Japanese well, officials told him that the test needed to be hand-written in kanji, which wasn’t something he’d practiced much. “I ended up buying the kanji elementary school drill [workbooks]. I bought the one for first and second grade, and I started filling those out, because I cannot write kanji to save my life. I can now a little bit. I try to make it a daily habit.”

Every day I hit the books and studied hard because I was like, ‘I can’t fail this test. I need to do it.’

“And then when I finally did it,” he said, “I finished it and [the official] took two seconds and was like, ‘Yeah, you’re good.’ I was like, ‘That’s it?’”

“But I only say it was easy,” Tanoue hastened to clarify, “because I pushed myself to study hard. I did have to write four sentences or so using kanji about my favorite food and why it’s my favorite food. I did cheat a little bit because I said my favorite food was pizza, which it is, but, you know, there’s no kanji for pizza.”

The process itself? Easier than expected

Tanoue felt that in general, the difficulty is overhyped. “I think overall the whole process of getting citizenship is easier than it is made out to be.”

It’s made out to be this huge, monolithic [project] where you’re tackling the Japanese bureaucracy, and aside from the long [wait] times—five months between sessions—it was pretty simple.

“The pass rate surprised me,” Miyamoto said. “I’d braced myself for rejection, but the case workers essentially pre-screen applicants—they’ll only let you proceed if they believe you have a strong chance of passing. That gave me a lot more confidence once I was in the process. The overall pass rate was around 80% at the time.”

Choosing a name for yourself

An often-overlooked aspect of naturalization—the chance to choose a Japanese last name—can be one of the most meaningful parts of the whole experience, according to our interviewees.

For Miyamoto, his Japanese surname wasn’t “new” but a callback to his family’s past. “I actually have a Chinese Hokkien middle name from my mom and grandfather, Ong (王, king). But there is no native Japanese last name for Ong, so I tried to find a similar kanji. I found 宮, which is ‘divine,’ and also related to the emperor or king, which is what Ong means.

“To make it a surname, I added 元, not 本, [both pronounced moto] because I don’t like how most Japanese surnames are too literal like 田中 (Tanaka), ‘in the rice field.’ Also, it’s used in 元気 (genki), meaning ‘energetic.’

“If I combine the kanji for my last name 宮元 (Miyamoto), it means ‘Royal Origin’ for me. My grandfather also had a business named Royal that was a Boomer generation rags-to-riches story. With that business, he provided for his four wives and sent my mom and all seven of her siblings to college.”

For me, choosing my last name also meant paying tribute to the success of my grandfather, and the sacrifices he made to get me to this point.

Tanoue opted to adopt his wife’s Japanese surname. “I took my wife’s name because I felt as if having a Japanese last name would break past the invisible ‘first defense’ when dealing with everyday tasks.

“For instance, people will see a fully katakana name and assume the person doesn’t speak Japanese or speaks it poorly, so you get a watered-down version of what really needs to be said. Or, in business, it [helps prevent] losing an opportunity just because they prefer a Japanese partner. This isn’t the same every time or for everyone, but it happens often enough that I consider it my main reason.

“Secondly, to me my last name being Japanese and having kanji feels appropriate for finalizing my citizenship and tells me, if no one else, that this is now my home.

“Lastly, the reason it was my wife’s [name] is because she said to either use that or keep my old last name, as she wasn’t willing to get creative. It would’ve been cool to think of what we could’ve come up with—after all it’s not every day you get to choose a new name!”

So while taking his wife’s family name may look like a simple decision, Tanoue considered it deeply beforehand, and encourages others to do the same.

I always inform my clients that the name change is deeply personal, and everyone needs to seriously reflect on it before committing to a decision.

Final advice: start now, because it’s worth it

Miyamoto has been observing the rule changes around naturalization, and strongly feels that other developers who are interested should act swiftly.

Start as soon as you’re eligible—don’t wait.

“We’re in a period of right-leaning political shifts in Japan,” he pointed out, “and pass rates fluctuate year to year. Once you meet the requirements, book a consultation with a case worker and find out early whether your profile is likely to succeed. The sooner you move, the more control you have over the outcome.”

On a personal note, Miyamoto is more grateful than ever to be a Japanese citizen, with complete freedom to choose his line of work. “Recently, with AI encroaching on UX work,” he explained, “I focus more on building a personal brand about gay nightlife in Tokyo.”

Tanoue also hopes other international developers will make the choice to stay long-term and become citizens, to the point he’s building a consulting business to help them. “ This country does need more people to naturalize and help build the [population] back up.”

He clearly recalls the actual notification quite fondly. “I was on the train when I got the call, so I got off at whatever station was next.

“It was a mostly empty platform, luckily, because I got the call and they were like, ‘Oh yeah, your permission came through. You’re going to be a Japanese citizen. We just have to finish the paperwork within the next couple weeks.

“I was almost screaming on the platform . . . and then I was like, ‘Wait, I’m in public. I’m under control. Yeah, I’m Japanese. I don’t do things like that in public.’ It was great.”

What Is a Bridge Engineer in Japan?

2026-05-22T09:53:10+09:00

Japanese companies increasingly rely on offshore development for two main reasons: cost and capacity. Domestically, the supply of engineers has not kept up with demand, while IT investment continues to grow. Offshore teams provide access to a larger talent pool at a lower cost, making it possible to scale development.

Unfortunately these offshore projects introduce extra layers of complexity, including language barriers, cultural differences, time zone gaps, and differences in development practices. Any of these factors can cause problems if not managed carefully. That is where a bridge engineer, like myself, becomes essential.

A bridge engineer (ブリッジSE, burijji SE) is a system engineer who works with both a Japanese company and an overseas development team, bridging the communication and domain knowledge gaps to ensure that both sides can build the product together. Depending on the company, bridge engineers may also participate directly in development work such as implementation, code review, debugging, and technical design. In my case, I sit directly between a Japanese team and an offshore team in Bangladesh.

Most of my day is spent making sure that information flows correctly between the two sides. This includes relaying feature requirements, clarifying specifications, and checking that the work being done matches what the Japanese team expects.

In this article I’ll explain:

What experience and background a bridge engineer needs
Why a bridge engineer role can be a good entry point
How important cultural fluency is (with business examples)
The core responsibilities of a bridge engineer
What my typical day looks like
Common challenges bridge engineers face

How my background led to the role

I did not originally intend to become a bridge engineer. My goal was to become a software developer. I completed a full-stack engineering bootcamp at Le Wagon Tokyo, where I studied Ruby, HTML, CSS, JavaScript, and MySQL. However, when I applied to my current company, they were looking for someone who could combine technical knowledge with communication and management skills.

Before entering the tech field, I had previous experience in management, and I was already comfortable working in both English and Japanese. My Japanese level was around JLPT N3 at the time, but I was confident verbally and able to participate in most conversations and meetings, even if business-level communication was still challenging at times.

At the beginning, one of the most difficult parts of my job was translating technical discussions during meetings. There were times I was asked to interpret highly technical explanations from Japanese to English, even when I did not fully understand the concepts myself yet. In many cases, I had to learn technical terminology and system behavior while actively working in the role.

Looking back, I think the company saw potential in my combination of skills, rather than in my technical experience alone. I’m originally from the United States, with roots in the Dominican Republic, and later learned Japanese during my coding bootcamp. Because of my background, I was already used to switching between different cultures and communication styles, which became extremely important in this role.

A good way to enter the industry

Based on my own experience, I think bridge engineering can actually be a strong entry point for junior developers who have good communication skills and Japanese ability, even if they do not yet have years of engineering experience. Also, since the role requires understanding systems well enough to explain them clearly, it forces you to continuously learn.

At the same time, there are some risks. If a bridge engineer becomes too focused on coordination and stops actively engaging with the technical side of things, it is difficult to continue improving as an engineer. I found that staying involved in code reviews, bug investigation, and implementation work was important for maintaining my technical growth.

In general I think the role is best suited to people who are organized, adaptable, and willing to ask questions constantly. That last one is important, because the more deeply you understand both the product and the people involved, the more effective you become at preventing misunderstandings before they turn into larger problems.

The importance of cultural flexibility

In Japan, communication often relies on context, and requirements may be implied rather than stated. This can obviously cause issues when communicating with overseas developers that don’t share that same cultural context. Therefore, it’s critical for a bridge engineer to both correctly interpret Japanese cultural nuances, and also know how to communicate that meaning clearly to the offshore team.

The real meaning behind the words

Even when a translation is technically correct, the meaning can still be misunderstood if that context is not clearly explained.

For example, I’ve seen cases where timing and priority are implied rather than stated. In a meeting, my boss would say something like, “If possible, we’d like this done within the week” (できれば今週中に対応したい, dekireba konshuujuu ni taiou shitai).

Taken literally, this sounds optional. In Japanese cultural context, though, it reflects the strong expectation that the task should be completed within that timeframe, unless there is a clear reason it cannot be. Without having that cultural understanding, an offshore team might prioritize other tasks first.

Misaligned expectations

The way teams work in Japan is also often different from how teams operate in countries like Bangladesh. I’ve seen situations where this leads to confusion as to how a project should be executed.

In one project, the offshore team was assigned a feature and began working on it, but progress was not communicated clearly. Because I wasn’t hearing any updates or concerns, I assumed the work was proceeding as planned. However, as we approached the testing phase, it became clear that the feature still had a number of unresolved bugs.

From the Japanese team’s perspective, this was a serious issue. They expect regular progress updates so they can be confident that a project is on track. If they had known earlier that the team was struggling, they would have offered additional resources or adjusted the timeline.

On the other hand, the offshore team had been working hard to resolve the issues on their own. They were hesitant to raise problems too early because they did not want to disappoint the Japanese team. This difference in communication style—reporting issues early, versus trying to solve them independently—ended up delaying progress.

Experiences like this taught me that bridge engineering is not just about translating languages, but about creating shared expectations between teams. Many assumptions that remain implicit in Japanese communication need to be stated explicitly for offshore teams: how progress should be reported, when to escalate risks, and what stakeholders expect during development. A bridge engineer has to actively reinforce these expectations and confirm that both sides are aligned throughout the project.

Core responsibilities

In general, my job as a bridge engineer breaks down into three main areas of responsibility: communication, translation, and coordination.

Communication in real time

I often participate in meetings between Japanese stakeholders and overseas developers, usually acting as an interpreter. This includes not just translating words, but making sure the speaker’s intent is understood.

In my personal opinion, I believe a voice call will always be the best form of remote communication, because it allows ideas to be explained more clearly and in real time. Unlike written communication, a call lets people ask immediate questions, clarify misunderstandings, and adjust explanations on the spot. It also makes it easier to gauge the reactions of the people you are speaking with, through tone, pacing, and feedback, so you can tell whether your message is being understood. This kind of interaction helps prevent small miscommunications from becoming bigger issues.

Requirement translation

Specifications delivered in Japanese must be translated into English in a way that preserves the original meaning. This includes subtle cultural or business logic that may not be explicitly stated.

The same feature often needs to be explained in two completely different ways. For example, when I was working on an emotion analysis feature, the way I communicated it depended entirely on the audience.

When speaking with the Japanese team, our discussion focused on the purpose of the feature: what problem it was solving, what they expected it to achieve, and how it would improve the overall user experience. The conversation was about intent and value rather than implementation details.

However, when communicating the same feature to the offshore team in Bangladesh, I needed to give a much more detailed and technical explanation. This included defining exactly how each part of the feature should behave. I talked about what each button does, how the AI should respond in different scenarios, and how to handle edge cases.

Coordination and management

The role often overlaps with project management, but it is not exactly the same. I do not handle budgeting, but I am responsible for tracking progress, managing timelines, and making sure tasks are completed as expected. For example, I monitor each team member’s work and compare it against their reported hours to ensure consistency and accountability.

My responsibilities also extend into non-engineering areas. For example, I review learning materials that are being localized into English to ensure they are accurate and sound natural.

I also support our offshore team in practical ways. When members of our Bangladesh team apply to become full-time employees, they participate in a three-week internship in Japan. When this happens, I handle visa-related paperwork and arrange accommodations, so they can transition smoothly into working with the Japanese team.

A typical day at my job

Most mornings I start by checking messages from the offshore team in Bangladesh. Because of the time difference, they often make progress while the Japanese team is offline, so I review their updates, check completed tasks, and identify any issues.

As the Japanese workday starts, I join meetings with managers to discuss new features, ongoing tasks, and anything else that has come up. During these meetings, I take detailed notes and make sure I fully understand the requirements. I make sure to clarify the intent behind each request so that it can be communicated accurately to the offshore team.

After meetings, I translate and restructure the requirements into a set of instructions for the offshore team. This isn’t just translating word-to-word, but also involves breaking down vague or high-level requests into actionable tasks for the developers.

Throughout the day, I stay in close contact with the offshore team through chat and video calls. I answer questions, clarify specifications, and make sure that everyone is aligned on what needs to be built. Because real-time communication is limited by the time difference, I try to anticipate potential misunderstandings early and resolve them before they slow down development.

In addition to coordination, I also contribute on the technical side when needed. I review code, investigate bugs, and sometimes implement fixes myself. I also assist with testing to confirm that completed features behave correctly before they are delivered to the Japanese team.

Progress tracking is another ongoing part of the job. I monitor task status, compare reported work hours with actual output, and make adjustments to schedules when necessary. This helps ensure that the project stays on track and that expectations on both sides remain realistic.

At the end of the day, I compile updates and communicate our progress to the Japanese team, while also preparing instructions for the offshore team so they can continue working according to their time zone.

Common challenges

Industry reports on offshore development frequently identify communication gaps, unclear requirements, and cultural differences as major causes of project delays and quality issues.

The most difficult part of the job is not anything technical, but the weight of responsibility. A bridge engineer is responsible for cross-team communications. If something is misunderstood, both the misunderstanding itself and the process of clearing it up become my responsibility.

A concrete example of this happened during our AI emotion analysis project. I misunderstood where the feature was supposed to be integrated in the system. Based on my interpretation, we designed and implemented it in only one part of the product. However, the expectation from the Japanese side was that the same feature would be available in two different areas of the system.

This difference significantly impacted the technical design. The database structure and tables we originally created were built around a single integration point, so when we had to extend the feature to the second location, we were forced to redesign parts of the system and refactor existing logic. What initially seemed like a straightforward feature became much more complex and time-consuming than expected.

If I had understood the design from the beginning, we could have designed the system differently and implemented both use cases in a much more efficient way. Instead, the misunderstanding led to additional rework and delays.

Other common challenges include the following.

Time zone differences

Working with teams in countries like Bangladesh or Nepal means there’s a gap of several hours between our workday and theirs. Real-time communication is limited, which slows down feedback.

Cultural differences

Work habits vary. For example, scheduling must account for religious practices such as daily prayer times. Expectations around deadlines and reporting may also differ.

Meeting pressure

During live interpretation, losing focus for even a moment can result in missed or incorrect information.

For these reasons, many bridge engineers describe the role as stressful. Accuracy is not optional, though. It is the job.

Closing

Japan’s reliance on bridge engineers is not a temporary stopgap measure. The country is facing a growing shortage of IT talent. Estimates suggest that by 2030, Japan could be short 800,000 IT professionals, making it increasingly difficult for companies to maintain development capacity using domestic labor alone.

As a result, offshore development has shifted from a cost-saving strategy to a necessity. But offshore development introduces its own challenges: differences in language, expectations, and communication styles.

From my perspective, bridge engineering is a role that will continue to grow as more Japanese teams move toward global development. Companies, including my own, are also expanding into global markets, which increases the need for people who can communicate effectively across languages and cultures. Without clear communication, even simple tasks can become difficult to complete, and collaboration across teams begins to break down.

In that sense, the bridge engineer is no longer just a support role. It is already a critical part of how Japan’s software development ecosystem functions today, and will play an important role in how that industry continues to function in the future.

My Deaf Experience in Japan

2026-05-20T10:14:00+09:00

People with disabilities are not often visible in Japanese society for a variety of reasons. It’s extremely rare to meet people with deafness in a workplace.

I once asked my doctor at a major Japanese hospital how many of his patients over the decades have been able to join a mainstream workplace and lead successful, independent lives. His answer was a sigh—he couldn’t think of any.

I would be surprised if you found ten long-term international residents with deafness all in the same place, but if you gathered us and asked us what it’s like to be deaf in Japan, you’d likely get ten different answers.

This is my experience.

I am deaf, not Deaf
How did I make it to Japan?
Living and working in Japan while deaf
Choosing a silent daily life for myself

I am deaf, not Deaf

I want to make it clear that I am not Deaf. People who identify as capital-D “Deaf” come from a culture and community that is often based around sign language and a shared experience that I have never been a part of.

However, I am a small-D “deaf” person who has had a “mainstreamed” experience in the hearing world from birth. This was generally by my own choice and is why I do not consider myself to be Deaf.

Mechanically, what does this mean? I have profound hearing loss. If I’m out and about without my cochlear implant processor, and a car honks its horn immediately behind me, I will not be able to hear it. However, I’ll still react to it, because at that distance, I can feel those loud sounds on the hairs of my arms and inside my body.

What about legally? In Japan, I have a Type 1 disability certificate, which recognizes that I have a disability that significantly impacts my life and interactions.

How did I make it to Japan?

You may be wondering, “If you’re that deaf, how did you manage to learn Japanese and move to Japan?”

Short answer

Short answer: It was tough! People remark on how fluent my Japanese is, but I’ve been here for 20 years.

I also have mechanical assistance, a lot of rehabilitation, and a plethora of excellent coping and masking behaviors, to the point where people will often say things like “I had no idea you were deaf,” or “I thought that thing on your head was just a Bluetooth thing!”

Long answer

The long answer is more complex. I was lucky that my hearing loss suddenly started with no discernible cause when I was about two; it was late enough that I had already started to pick up speech, which is why I can generally speak without the stereotypical tone associated with deafness.

By the time I was five, I relied completely on hearing aids to be able to hear anything at all. I wore hearing aids on both ears and thought I got along fine, but in hindsight, it was a struggle. Things like movies and TV were useless to me since neither closed captioning nor subtitles were as ubiquitous then as they are now. This actually influenced what I grew up watching. Some popular shows, such as Friends, didn’t consistently have closed captions, but other shows, like Star Trek: The Next Generation, were all but guaranteed to have closed captions.

In fact, the main reason I got interested in Japan and Japanese was because a friend pointed out that Japanese anime and TV shows basically had a 100% chance of having subtitles.

I also didn’t get into music culture when I was a kid. A lot of kids immersed themselves in music via tapes, CDs, or radio. Since I couldn’t hear well enough to distinguish voices or lyrics, my go-to as a kid was music without vocals, like classical music, orchestral soundtracks (the Return of the Jedi Special Edition soundtrack was almost always on loop), techno like Orbital, or even Kenny G.

I was shocked when I found out much later that Kenny G is not very popular!

Before the internet, people relied on telephones to reach each other, chat, and coordinate things. This meant that I would often miss out on talking to friends outside of school unless they were online (which was rare back then, as most people didn’t have home internet!) and I often wasn’t invited to parties or other activities. I couldn’t hear well enough to use a telephone at all; the most I could pick up was some vague noise and murmurs.

Deafness is not only about volume. There are many aspects to sound and auditory processing that determine whether speech is intelligible. The obvious answer to many people is “Just make it louder!” Unfortunately, that often doesn’t help, as many people may be missing hearing in specific frequencies, or may not have the ability to process those sounds into speech. This was the case for me.

My school district required everyone to take at least two years of a foreign language, and I opted for Latin out of necessity because it is a dead language that largely goes unspoken outside of most settings. In other words, my lack of hearing was a non-issue.

My cochlear implant: not perfect, but it helps

The winter before I turned 16, I opted for a cochlear implant in my left ear. This completely replaced my hearing aid with two parts: an inner part with electrodes to directly stimulate my auditory nerve, and an outer part called the “processor,” which contains a microphone, a processor to process audio from the microphone, and a transmitter to send the signal to the inner part.

A lot of media portrays cochlear implants as miracles, and they are. However, they don’t result in effortless, perfect hearing. I went through (and still do) a lot of rehabilitative exercises to be able to distinguish and understand sounds. Today I have around 80% of a normal range of hearing in a quiet environment.

The implant lets me hear lots of small sounds that I never knew existed, like the rumbles of my stomach or my shirt rubbing on my skin. Because I didn’t grow up hearing, I often can’t distinguish what those sounds are. Sometimes I actually think noise is someone talking to me, or vice versa. Another situation I often find myself in is that I hear a sound, but I don’t know how to describe it in order to ask other people about it.

One of the great ironies of my life is that I have tinnitus, but never knew what it was. Audiologists would ask if I had “ringing” in my ears, but I would think, “Hmm, no phones or bells in my head,” and say I was fine. It was only when I was well into my 30s, while talking to a friend, that I learned that the humming, beeping, and whining I hear is tinnitus.

The cochlear implant also gave me the opportunity to do things that hearing people take for granted, like study Japanese—a living language that people actually speak every day.

Living and working in Japan while deaf

Communicating

There are a lot of aspects to communicating in Japan, but it’s still mostly speech-based, whether that’s in person, on the phone, or in video calls.

Phone calls and their alternatives

Many lines of business support are exclusively available via phone calls. Ironically, when I first arrived in Japan, the fax machine—which many international residents complain is an outdated holdover from a previous century—had been helpful to me, as people would happily fax me forms and explanations.

The result of this is that I go out of my way to choose services that can support me via text or online.

The contractor I rely on heavily for house renovations and repairs has a manager who is willing to do all contact with me through LINE. I have chosen all of my dog trimmers on a similar basis. I almost always choose Amazon over other stores (even when it doesn’t have the best value) because they have text-based chat support that is simple to access. I’ve refused to use banks because of bad teller or manager experiences where they would insist that I make phone calls in front of them. I choose restaurants and hotels based on whether I can make reservations or requests online, and avoid ones that have only phone support.

Incoming phone calls are another problem: if I’m not expecting one, then I have to scramble to get my processor, put it on, wait around 15 seconds for it to boot, and find a quiet space. By the time I’ve done that, the caller has often already given up. This can be quite stressful when I look up the number and realize it was something like a hospital or a tax office calling me, and frustrating when it’s a delivery driver calling to say they’re coming later in the day when I had already scheduled the delivery.

In person

In-person communication is often tough nowadays as well. I rely a lot on my ability to combine context, lip cues and lip reading, and the sounds I can hear. However, post-Covid Japan has especially become a world of masks in professional settings. Add in the post-Covid plastic barriers everywhere, and I have no visual cues and also two layers blocking sound. At that point, I’m relying almost wholly on context and lucky guesses, so there’s almost no point to having my processor on at all.

This can result in some awkward situations, such as when dining with friends who speak less Japanese than I. Waiters will often gravitate toward me as the most Japanese-looking person, but in reality, the odds are that I can’t hear them clearly. This means I have to redirect the waiter to my companion, who can actually hear the waiter, even though they may speak less Japanese. Or perhaps the waiter insists on approaching me from my right side, where I’m completely deaf and can’t hear a thing at all—I’ve occasionally been taken by surprise and scared out of my wits by suddenly realizing there was someone leaning over right by my shoulder!

In other, more critical situations, I have to fall back on dogged persistence in asking for written explanations, and insistence on clarification and detail. Many people will tend to write brief notes because they don’t want to write everything they would normally say, which means that I can miss out on important details if I’m asking about an order or my taxes.

It’s my responsibility to be persistent (sometimes to the point where the other person thinks I’m annoying or rude) and get the details I need to feel comfortable that I understand something. Some interactions are great, but you will always be your own best advocate.

Accommodations in the workplace

Since 2024, workplaces in Japan have been required to provide reasonable accommodations (合理的配慮, gouriteki hairyo). The main catch is that companies are allowed to refuse if they can prove that a given accommodation causes “undue hardship,” such as financial cost or technical difficulties. In these cases, companies are required to provide an explanation to the employee and must still seek alternative solutions collaboratively.

What I have found firsthand and heard from others is that Western companies and newer Japanese companies are both aware of and more comfortable with workplace accommodations and related laws. This does not mean that you cannot get accommodations in a more traditional Japanese small or medium business, but it does mean that you will likely be more responsible for providing facts and options while collaboratively advocating for your own needs.

Professional communications can be another issue; some workplaces are very phone-heavy, and others are very meeting-heavy. Additionally, some companies in Japan operate largely via email, which can be a blessing and a curse. It’s a blessing because everything is in writing to begin with, but a curse because you now have 5,000 emails to read every day.

Online meetings

For online meetings, I try to redirect everything to a meeting software I can control. My personal preference is Google Meet, since it’s browser-based and I know it has relatively stable support for live captions in Japanese.

I say “relatively stable” because one of the frustrations of these features is that companies can change them on a whim. For about two months this year, the English captions were essentially unusable in Google Meet: they would take minutes before they started, would often fall out of sync, and occasionally turned into strings of complete gibberish. This is devastating when you rely on them.

Some companies will insist on Zoom or some other software, even if I point out that the captioning feature isn’t good enough for me to follow along well. This happened to me when I was looking for mortgages, and in several cases resulted in the immediate dismissal of my application, due to the bank agent not feeling comfortable with their ability to communicate with me. It has also happened to me with external contractors at work with their own requirements, and in those cases I just have to do the best I can.

A workaround, if you’re on Windows, is to use the built-in closed captioning. In many ways, the quality is better than Google Meet, so I would often use the two at the same time to get two streams of text that I could look at and decipher along with the audio to build a better “best guess” of what people were saying. However, it captions all audio from the OS and thus cannot distinguish between speakers, so it’s less helpful in a multi-person meeting where you’d want to know who said something.

These are generally simple solutions as they don’t require any action on the part of the other parties, which means they’re much more willing to accept them.

I currently work in a macOS environment and cannot use the Windows live captioning, but I make do with other solutions:

Macwhisper has been in continuous development for years and is always improving; they recently released low-latency live captioning. It’s not currently fast enough for my purposes, but often helps in a pinch when combined with other captioning options. Its main feature is transcription, which can be amazing when you need to catch up on recordings. It runs entirely locally and is invisible to other people.
Caption.ed does not have Japanese support, but has excellent English support, especially across different accents. Google struggles with accents and Caption.ed has been an excellent secondary resource for me. The downside is that its most useful feature requires you to add it to a meeting, which your workplace or coworkers may not want to allow.

In-person meetings

In-person meetings are also very common in Japan, and can be extremely difficult to deal with. I prefer online meetings as much as possible since I can use closed captioning tools, but in-person meetings have their own charm and many people prefer to meet in person when possible. These are some common accommodations I have been successful in asking for and receiving.

Quiet, isolated meeting rooms: I specifically ask for this every time, as some people may assume that a cafe atmosphere is more relaxing for everyone, or that we’d be ok having one at a table in the middle of the office.
Changing seating position: I can only hear on my left side, which means that it’s better for me to be seated on the rightmost side. I also want to sit in a place where I can view everyone’s faces for lip reading and lip cues.

Below are some accommodations that I often ask for, but without reasonable expectation that they will be granted.

Mask removal: There are clear health and hygiene reasons why people will not want to remove their masks, and that’s absolutely fine. I only ask that people remove their masks if they feel comfortable doing so and I make it clear that it will absolutely help me understand them better.
Hand-raising: In multi-person meetings especially, it can be difficult to know who’s speaking when the speaker suddenly changes. Hand-raising also tends to curtail interruptions, which helps me follow conversation changes. However, it’s not a common practice in Japan and invites questions of moderation and hierarchy, which can be uncomfortable in some contexts.
Rooms without echoes: This is just a difficult one to figure out if you don’t have a set of meeting rooms that everyone’s familiar with. It’s often a case of “best effort,” and I’m absolutely fine with that.

My social life has often relied on me finding people who are comfortable meeting me on my terms, in relatively quiet places where I can hear them. For the longest time, I was extremely uncomfortable going to karaoke because—despite every song being effectively “subtitled”—it was a primarily “hearing” experience. This closed off a lot of social life options in my early 20s.

I also veer away from more physical activities as well, as I risk my processor falling off or getting damaged. While I did kendo for a number of years, I chose to do it completely deaf because I had to take off the processor to participate.

Once I take off the processor, though, social activities become less and less appealing. Why do something with your friends when you can’t talk to them? It turns out that even simple things like onsen can be less fun when you’re sitting isolated in complete silence. Add in the frustration of people’s friendly, persistent efforts to communicate, and it becomes more stressful than relaxing.

The best way for me to have a social life has been to find people who are comfortable having quiet meals together, who are willing to type stuff out and send me messages on LINE in the worst situations even if we’re sitting side by side, and who are good natured about repeating things or understanding when I’ve completely misheard something.

Dating can be tough, especially if you add in the need to explain your disability upfront. The reality is that anyone you’d want to date long-term is going to “find out” anyway, so you might as well just let them know in advance.

In terms of activities, non-Japanese movies are surprisingly good, as the English audio ones have Japanese subtitles. If you can read Japanese quickly enough, then it’s very effective for understanding what’s going on, especially in combination with views of people’s mouths, the existing audio, and context clues.

I’ve also had a lot of success in smaller organized activity groups, such as those for card or board games, which I find through social networks like Twitter and occasionally sites like Meetup.

A lot of my current Japanese social life comes from online groups, where the text-first format means my hearing is effectively never a barrier to entry. This won’t always scratch the itch for everyone though, since there’s often no face-to-face contact in Japanese online groups, and you may go years without ever learning anyone’s real name.

Finances

There’s an unseen financial aspect to my hearing that has driven my career choices my whole life. To put it bluntly, I spend around:

50,000 yen per year on replacement parts (cables, headpieces, etc.)
200,000 yen per year on special batteries that need to be replaced annually
200,000 yen per year in savings to replace the processor every five years or so

The company that produces my cochlear implant processor has a very strong lock-in effect: I cannot easily switch makers because of the piece that’s surgically implanted in my ear. So when the company decides to change prices, or stop producing hardware, I need to have the money to be ready.

The major cochlear implant makers, including mine, are based out of the US, so everything is imported through a Japanese pass-through company that handles customer support and proxy orders. In fact, as of the time of this writing, the lead time on me ordering a replacement battery is two to three months!

The processors do eventually break down (especially in the humidity of Japanese summers) and need repairs, so that’s something I have to budget for. However, the company itself may stop producing parts for the current processor model, so repairs or replacements have to be sourced through an unreliable stock of used devices. This clearly isn’t a great option when hearing is critical for my work.

So every five years or so, I have to upgrade to a new processor. It’s much easier to save a bit every year than it is to try to produce a million yen out of thin air.

I once bluntly asked my doctor how his patients who are unemployed or in low wage jobs cope with these needs. He said that they receive some level of financial assistance from their municipality or their families, but for the most part they may choose to live deaf with broken equipment for a period of time until they can afford things again. Some simply stop using their equipment, opting instead to return to being completely deaf.

There are also expenses for the medical care itself. Other countries often have laxer standards, but Japan differs significantly in that:

Adjustments to the program that runs on the processor can only be applied by a doctor, in person
Patients are required to visit the doctor for a checkup every six months

Any procedures or checkups have to be done at a hospital affiliated with the company that makes your cochlear implant hardware. For me, the best option is about a three-hour trip into Tokyo to a major hospital; this represents significant time and money spent. I only have to go twice a year if nothing goes wrong, but it is something to keep in mind if you’re thinking about moving to Japan.

Fortunately, payments for all of these things can be applied to the medical deduction on your income tax return, which can result in some savings on your taxes or some amount of money back. Every little bit helps.

Different municipalities offer different types of benefits or allowances. Many of them are specific or restricted to people under a certain level of income, but it’s worth stopping by the disability welfare counter (障害者福祉課の窓口, shougaisha fukushi-ka no madoguchi) to ask about them to make sure you know what your municipality offers.

Advocating for yourself

Nobody knows your situation as well as you, and nobody knows what you need as well as you do.

Often, advocating for yourself means going the extra mile and explaining your deafness time after time after time. It’s an old, tired topic to you, but new to almost everyone you’ll meet and interact with. If you can establish that context and explanation up front, it can make the interaction less frustrating for the other person: rather than “This person is annoyingly specific,” they can hopefully frame it as “This person can’t hear me and needs this kind of help.”

I find that this is very important to me as a non-Japanese person, as the other party may have assumptions that I don’t have.

Advocating for yourself also means sometimes knowing that it’s ok to be uncomfortable and asking for an accommodation, such as if a contact can reach out to you via email or text message. Often the answer will be “No,” but sometimes it will be “Yes,” and that chance of making my life easier is what pushes me to ask.

If you ever needed a push in asking for reasonable accommodation, this is that push! People often point out that Japanese culture is about harmony, fitting in, and not making waves. Having a disability is the opposite of this. I strongly believe that having a disability does not mean that you should minimize yourself and “suck it up.” I believed this for a few years, and they were the most miserable, stressful years of my time here.

Anyone with a disability in Japan should know that Japanese law since 2016 has promoted the elimination of discrimination against people with disabilities (unofficial English translation).

Choosing a silent daily life for myself

On the face of it, having the cochlear implant seems like a miracle: hearing where there previously was none. However, it comes with tradeoffs, so many that I often choose to live life here completely deaf without using the processor, unless I know I have hearing interactions coming up, such as meetings at work or someone coming to visit.

These experiences aren’t universal to cochlear implant recipients. They vary greatly by implant type, model, age of implantation, and so many more factors.

Constantly being conscious of ambient noise and trying to understand which ones “matter” to me is very tiring. The processor itself has weight and makes my ear hurt over time when combined with my glasses, and it falls off easily—especially if I’m lying down, leaning my head back, or moving suddenly.

The headpiece of the processor sticks to the side of my head with a magnet that’s paired with the implant itself. Hair thickness, hairstyle, body fat, skull thickness, and implantation location all affect the strength of this connection. For me, this means that if my head isn’t completely shaved at that paired point, sometimes simply going down stairs makes the headpiece wobble precariously!

I can tell you that on sleepy mornings, nothing has woken me up faster than the times I’ve thought I’ve broken or lost a 1,000,000 yen medical device.

So I often find it easier and more relaxing for myself to go about my daily life deaf.

At home

I miss all kinds of auditory cues that many people take for granted!

Doorbells are an obvious one. If there’s a delivery and they want to talk to me rather than just leaving the package, then I have to rely on my dogs’ reactions to know that something happened that needs my attention. Luckily, in the last few years, smart doorbells have gotten more ubiquitous and I can keep an eye on my phone for alerts. There are also options for flashing lights, but they’re less than practical for me due to the wiring requirements, and also I would have to place the lights in multiple rooms. So I mostly rely on my phone and my dogs.

Another embarrassing issue is just missing the sheer number of beeps and melodies that come out of Japanese appliances. Once I spoiled a freezer full of food because the door was jammed slightly ajar, but I never heard it beeping.

Another time, my oven had an error that frustrated me for days until a friend pointed out that it was beeping in a specific pattern that was listed in the manual. Even if I had had my processor on, I doubt I would have picked that up.

And still many, many more times, I’ve forgotten about something in my microwave, rice cooker, or washing machine because I never heard the repeated beeps and it just slipped my mind.

Outside the house

Going about my life completely deaf can cause problems outside the house, too. Sometimes I’ll run some errands completely deaf and people will mention later that they had tried to talk to me, only to think that I was purposefully ignoring them!

This can seem doubly intentional to them since I “mask” well and they may have no awareness of me as a deaf person, or even awareness of what it means to be deaf. There’s no simple way for people to tell that I can’t hear them; even if they’re aware that I can’t hear without the cochlear implant processor, they may not know to look for it. And even if I do have it on, there’s still a high chance that I simply didn’t hear them—especially if they weren’t on my left side, where I have the processor!

Due to the lack of deaf representation in Japan, and particularly in Japanese media, many people do not have a good understanding of the impact of deafness or how to communicate with deaf people.

I’ve had interactions where people assure me that “You can just call the help line and ask!” or assume I heard an announcement in a station, or a crucial comment in a fast-moving conversation. Those are just fundamental elements of their daily lives that they can’t imagine not existing for someone else.

When I interact with staff, such as in busy restaurants or convenience stores, it’s not much of a change for me to do so without my processor, because the background noise would have still made it extremely difficult to understand anything. At places where I’m a regular, some of the staff even remember me and have paper on hand to write down things for me.

One of the reasons it can be simple to get away without hearing is because I know Japanese, and the culture of Japanese language means it is often very formulaic.

Most convenience store interactions are scripted. I know that if I’m shipping a package, the first question is usually about what day/time I want to set the package’s arrival for. If I’m buying food, I know they’ll ask if I want to heat it, if I want chopsticks, and so on.

If I were speaking English in America, it would be much more likely that someone would ask how I’m doing, or try to make conversation, etc. I would definitely look rude, or someone could get angry at me for not responding. That’s less likely in Japan.

Weather concerns

Another reason I often choose not to wear the processor is the weather.

Humidity and moisture cause mineral buildup and both short- and long-term damage to the hardware, so I try to avoid them when I can. This includes not only rain, but also my own sweat. If the processor gets wet, then I won’t be able to hear for an entire day, which means that moisture is something I think about seriously when considering whether to participate in social events.

This also makes me avoid events such as festivals where water could be thrown around, and environments like the beach or the pool. Unless I explain everything, this can seem overblown to other people. They’ll often say things like, “What if you put it in a bag?” (then it’s safe, but I can’t hear) or “I’m sure it won’t happen!” (easy to say when you’re not gambling with your own hearing) or “Even if you can’t hear, we’ll still have fun!” (not so fun for the person who can’t participate in conversations).

Conclusion

This is my deaf experience.

I advocate for myself strongly and make a lot of choices based on how accessible something is, or how much friction my presence could cause for other parties. It’s a balancing act I have to face almost every single day here, but I would be looking at making many of the same compromises no matter where I lived.

If you’re deaf and are thinking about living in Japan, these are some good questions to consider:

How good is my Japanese?
Am I comfortable being uncomfortable?
Will I advocate for myself?

Even if you answer “No” to any of these questions, that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Perhaps you can learn more Japanese before coming here, or maybe there is coaching available to help you navigate difficult situations and advocate for yourself more. Maybe a good intermediary step is to visit Japan for a few weeks and see how it feels to be here. There are many ways to adapt, and accommodations you can ask for.

If you have a disability, I hope you’ve learned that things will be difficult, but not impossible.

If you do not have a disability, I hope this article has revealed aspects of daily life that you may not have thought about for people with disabilities. Many of us have to put tremendous effort into “normal” activities.

It’s definitely possible to settle in Japan with deafness—I’ve been in Japan for almost two decades at this point, and I now own a house in the countryside where I have a nice, quiet life with my two dogs.

One Decade of Experience, Zero Offers in Japan—Until I Could Move

2026-05-12T16:48:39+09:00

In 2024, when my wife and I decided to move to Japan, I thought I was an ideal candidate. I had 10 years experience in web development and a Computer Science degree from a top university. I’ve worked for startups, large companies, and universities. Whenever I looked for a new role in the UK, I could usually find one within a week. Recruiters messaged me daily, and switching on “Looking for work” on LinkedIn would trigger hundreds of messages.

So how hard could finding a job in Japan be? I kicked off a six-month job search and soon had my answer.

Recruiters ignored me. Roles I applied for often had over 500 applicants. For each role, somebody else had 20 years experience, or was ex-FAANG, or didn’t care about compensation. How could I beat them?

What I discovered is that there are many ways to become a great candidate in Japan. Hiring managers want someone who will start immediately, show up, and be a pleasure to work with. I adjusted my strategy accordingly, and that effort paid off.

I took a risky route that isn’t available to everyone. Being British, I used a Working Holiday visa as my route into Japan, then took a two-month contract through a dispatch agency, which led to them sponsoring me for a Certificate of Eligibility for an Engineer/Specialist in Humanities/International Services visa.

Tracking my stats
Why I was a “bad candidate”
Turning myself into a “good candidate”
What actually got me in the door
- Working Holiday visa
- Dispatch agencies
How I got the job
Transitioning to an Engineer visa
Final advice

Application statistics

Many people complain about job searching in Japan. I knew it would be easy to become pessimistic, so I automated and tracked my approach. For each role I noted the job requirements, when I sent my application, and the dates of each following stage.

I marked jobs as stale when they didn’t reply for two weeks. I didn’t worry about following up on roles, choosing to send and forget. After all, most roles have hundreds of applicants; no human has time to read 500 applications and respond to each one.

In addition, I tracked whether each application resulted in an interview, and then whether that interview resulted in a tech test. These were some of my results:

TokyoDev: 40 applications -> 16 interviews (40% conversion)
LinkedIn Jobs: 200 applications -> 3 interviews (1.5% conversion)
Daijob: 60 applications -> 1 interview (1.6% conversion)

TokyoDev roles were the most likely to convert to an interview. They were also the most competitive, with hundreds of applications per role. The technical tests were demanding, with some taking weeks.

Why I was a “bad candidate”

Right candidate, wrong country

While I was searching job boards and reaching out to recruiters on LinkedIn, Paul Roberts replied to me with a message as long as the one I’d sent him. Our connection as fellow Brits helped the conversation flow, and he explained to me how recruitment works in Japan.

If he suggested me as a top candidate, some clients would consider him a bad recruiter. I was in the wrong country, with no right to work and no connection to Japan. Why should they trust I would show up, or stay longer than six months? His job is to make his clients happy, and few clients would be happy with what I was offering.

Another hiring manager told me they simply no longer take candidates from overseas. In the last ten roles they had hired from abroad, two had ghosted them on their start date. A third hiring manager revealed that the role I was interviewing for had over 600 applications.

I felt I did have a connection to Japan, though. I grew up in Singapore, and have lived since then in England, Japan, and Taiwan. I’ve been on holiday to Japan three times, and then my wife and I spent from 2022–2023 traveling across Japan on Working Holiday visas.

Since I’d already lived in Japan for a year, I knew how to go to the town hall, get a phone number, get a bank account, and pay my bills there. That would beat many candidates’ experiences, but I knew there was still more I could do to overcome the disadvantage of not yet being in Japan.

Making myself more hirable

When reading your CV, most recruiters are trying to figure out the following:

Does the candidate live in Japan?
Has the candidate lived or worked in Japan before?
Will this candidate actually show up?

I wasn’t just looking for any job. I wanted a job in Japan, and I made every modification I could to show that.

I reorganized my CV, profile, and portfolio around Japan

I added katakana to my LinkedIn name. In my profile, I highlighted my low level of Japanese skill (“low” beats “zero”). I updated my portfolio to have a Japanese language toggle. My goal was an English-speaking role, so these were just signals to show that I was serious.

I also made a Japanese version of my CV, again not because I was looking for a Japanese role, but to show I was taking my job search seriously.

I reframed my job history for Japanese hiring managers

As a freelancer my CV is erratic. I’d spent the last five years traveling the world and supporting a variety of startups. To appeal to Japanese employers, though, I knew I needed to position myself as a reliable, long-term developer for big businesses.

Instead of hiding my job history in my CV, I tried to be explicit about why my job history was that way. It wasn’t that I was unreliable: I had been trying to move to another country, and the pandemic had interfered with that. I also highlighted specific experiences and skills that were relevant to the positions I applied to.

I networked on LinkedIn

LinkedIn worked very well for me in the UK, so I tried to shift my network to Tokyo.

It was possible I could land in Japan without a job, so I looked for people who ran events I wanted to attend if that happened. I decided I would go to TokyoDev, NetWalking, and Tokyo Recruiter events. That would cover me for developer roles, startups, and recruiters.

Through this process Alex Ngai leaped out as somebody unique. Alex wrote posts that felt human. He was the first person in Japan who had a real conversation with me. He suggested I talk to Levi Pells, who runs meetups and retreats.

After connecting with these two, LinkedIn highlighted even more people that I knew were likely to be at the meetups I planned on attending. The people I talked to at this time were later the ones who hugged me when I arrived, and helped me settle in.

I studied for the JLPT N4

During this time, I also studied for the JLPT N4, the second-lowest level of Japanese proficiency recognised in Japan. While I’d self-studied for five years, I was embarrassed to still hold only a JLPT N5. These levels aren’t competitive, but that wasn’t my strategy.

I had shifted my perspective from “How do I be the best?” to “How do I beat most of my competition?” If a candidate was better at Japanese than me, but didn’t hold JLPT N5, I’d beat them at the CV stage.

Anyone can write “Intermediate Japanese” on a CV. Sitting the JLPT shows that for over six months somebody has been committed to studying Japanese, and that makes a difference.

And, I got married

Meanwhile, I wasn’t the only one in my family looking for a job in Japan. My girlfriend and I had been partners for almost 15 years, and we naturally wanted to maximize our chances of living and working in the same country. We also knew that one of us might find a role in Japan months or years before the other; if so, Japan’s Dependent visa could help us stay together. However, that visa only covers an applicant’s dependent children and/or spouse, not unmarried partners.

Our solution: get married! We love each other, so this was the easiest and most enjoyable part of the process.

What actually got me in the door

After I added my JLPT N5 to my resume and created a Japanese resume to signal my seriousness, people started to trust that I would be arriving soon. Interviews pivoted from “Can you be here in six months?” to “How about we have the next interview in person?”

Still, the competition was fierce. Any time I managed to reach a real human, I’d ask them questions about their hiring process. One told me they had around 650 applicants; in that many applicants, there is at least one ex-FAANG developer who wants to move to Japan. I’m confident in my skill level, but also realistic. That left me wondering if there was something more I could do.

I decided to overcome the biggest hurdle, which was not being physically in Japan. To accomplish this, I got the easiest visa I could, and worked with flexible dispatch agencies. A temporary contract with an odd visa, I decided, was better than not being in Japan at all.

These were difficult choices, but they’re the ones that finally got me through the door.

Working Holiday visa (again)

I considered some different visa options to relocate to Japan ASAP, but in the end I decided to apply for a Working Holiday visa. Even if I couldn’t locate a job immediately, a year of attending language school, networking events, and internships in Japan was only going to help. That was already what I was doing, but in the wrong country.

Luckily for the British, we can now apply for a second year of Working Holiday in Japan. I applied one month before I turned 31, when I would have aged out of the Working Holiday scheme.

The big downside of this method was that if I did find a long-term role, I would eventually have to end my current visa, and a new application would have to be made in person in London. Residents from Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Germany, and South Korea, however, are explicitly allowed to transition from a Working Holiday visa to a new residency status within the country.

This process is not a common or well-documented one, but immigration assured me this was allowed. I also spoke again to a few of the kinder recruiters I’d come to know, and asked them all if they’d had candidates arrive on student or Working Holiday visas. Some checked with their own HR departments to make sure the process was legal. They all confirmed I wasn’t the first to take these routes.

Now my CV was updated to say I had the right to work in Japan and would be there within one month. Suddenly, I was a very viable candidate. Recruiters that couldn’t help me before now could, and that led directly to my next steps.

Dispatch agencies

At the start of this process, I’d never heard of dispatch agencies (派遣, haken), which are companies that dispatch and manage temporary staff to contract roles, often analogous to temp work in other countries.

Benefits and downsides

In the UK, I’d call this kind of company a temp agency, though in practice the work seems much more technical than what I’d expect of a temp employee. In Japan, dispatch work is not considered impressive or stable.

Yet I’ve met a few developers who stay in dispatch roles by choice. The dispatch company is your employer, paying your salary, taxes, and health insurance, and sometimes will also sponsor an initial visa. At Michael Page specifically, I found that not only is overtime paid, it’s paid at a higher rate than usual hours. You can take unlimited unpaid holidays, and work from home, though these choices won’t impress your client.

Another nice benefit is that, because dispatch agencies charge by the hour, they set a cap on interview length. Interviewing as a dispatch employee usually calls for a single meeting, with an offer to start next week.

The downside is the lack of stability. At Michael Page specifically (other companies may do it differently), the agency won’t hire you without an initial contract. Contracts are usually only three months long, and you get one month’s notice of extension or termination. The reputation of working as a dispatch employee can also give the impression you aren’t a good hire.

Is dispatch too risky?

Early in my search, I accidentally applied for a dispatch role with Robert Half, the first recruiter to be eager to speak with me. Through our conversation I unpacked what it meant to be a dispatch hire, and it seemed like an exciting offer: easier interviews, faster placement, and the potential to work at larger companies like Rakuten, PayPay, Woven, and similar.

At first, though, I couldn’t get over the short-term nature of the contracts. If the role didn’t go well, this option could lead to me returning to my chaotic job search in just a few short months. My partner and I concluded that this felt too risky, but we also decided that if I didn’t have an offer three months later, I would be in touch.

Crunching the numbers

Exhausted by unending technical tests, I did follow up on the call three months later. I wanted to understand how stable these roles were.

My contact told me that out of his 80 placements over two years, 40 were still on the same contract. Over that period, only 2 had been terminated. That’s a 97.5 percent success rate. These statistics outperformed my own experience as a contractor in the UK.

I decided that was an acceptable risk, and to pursue dispatch roles alongside the others I was still in the running for.

My experience with Michael Page

When I decided to apply for a dispatch job after all, I went with a competing agency, Michael Page, because I had already connected organically with a recruiter there, Hikari Takamura. Michael Page got me my current position at Rakuten, and thus my work visa to enter Japan.

The way Michael Page works, I needed to interview directly with Rakuten and secure an offer from them. Then Michael Page would employ me as a contractor.

Landing the job

While on a last holiday in Singapore, I managed to line up my interview with Rakuten and a conversation with my handler at Michael Page for the same day.

I’d been told Rakuten was excited by my CV, which was refreshing to finally hear. I felt quite relaxed. I was also told the interview would be thirty minutes. Instead, it lasted sixty.

The technical aspects of the interview involved JavaScript, TypeScript, and modern React. A few questions were about how I would deal with problems with team management. Half of the interview was questions about life in Japan, and my experience living there before.

These questions were shocking to me. They were also the questions I had recently learned how to answer. I was a good candidate: I’d be there soon, I’d lived there before, and I spoke a bit of the language. I wasn’t afraid to go to town hall or to get rejected from an apartment. None of these are exciting responses to questions about working in Japan, but they showed I knew what I was doing.

I asked if I could start the following Monday, but also added that I would need time in a few months to return to the UK to attend a wedding and change my visa status. They agreed.

Minutes after the interview was over, my handler from Michael Page called me. We discussed the interview and I received the most positive feedback I’d gotten in my job search. I recognized this as an early warning that a job offer would come shortly after.

Japan, here I come!

I received the contract two days later on Friday. I flew back from Singapore to the UK four days later. That gave me four days in Manchester to pack up everything I needed.

I sorted out a short-term rental as close to the office as possible through Sakura House, and landed in Tokyo on October 31st. Of course, the flight lost my bag.

I moved into my apartment in Setagaya on November 1st. On November 4th, at 10 a.m., I was waiting in the lobby of the Rakuten offices, in some backup work clothes I’d bought over the weekend.

What a dispatch contract looks like

The structure of my employment is that I started on a two-month trial contract. After one month they extended it by three more months. At this point I’m confident it will be renewed every three months. I hope that Rakuten will eventually convert me to a direct, permanent employee.

Most developers around me are either dispatch employees, or recently-converted dispatch employees. There is no sense that they are low-quality developers. I am surrounded by people far smarter than me, who are happy to share what they know.

Transitioning to an Engineer visa

Once in Japan I had two goals:

Get an Engineer/Specialist in Humanities/International Services visa, so my spouse could join me as my dependent.
Transition from dispatch work to being a permanent employee.

Getting the Engineer visa was a very easy step, and I had this process started within six weeks of beginning the role. This involved my dispatch agency sponsoring my Engineer visa, and we completed that step in December.

I returned to the UK with my CoE and a visa form. The process was the same as the Working Holiday visa application, but far simpler. Upon returning to Japan, my re-entry permit was terminated, and my resident card had a hole punched through it. I was then immediately given a new card.

Technically I moved out of Japan for the two weeks I was in the UK. That meant I had to “move out” at my town hall and immediately “move in” on my new visa. For some banks, leaving like this means you have to close your account; luckily that didn’t apply to me. I cannot understate the bureaucracy that was endured, but hopefully that’s the last time I will have to do it.

And that brings you to where I am today. My next goal is transitioning away from the dispatch agency and into a permanent role at Rakuten. Many coworkers seem happy with the dispatch life, but I can’t deny the advantages being a permanent employee brings.

Conclusion

When I started this process, I had so much confidence, based on my experience job-hunting in the UK. How much harder was job-seeking in Japan? By far the hardest it’s ever been for me.

Everything changed once I understood that hiring managers weren’t just asking “Is this the best developer?” but also “Will this person actually show up, stay, and make our lives easier?” The Working Holiday Visa proved I could be in Japan quickly. The dispatch agency removed friction from the hiring process. My CV, network, and story showed I was serious about being there long-term. With all these combined, I beat their doubts that I would ever make it to Japan.

If you’re trying to do the same, focus less on perfection and more on credibility. Show that you can get to Japan, that you understand what living there is actually like, and that you’re committed to staying.

I started my first job ten years ago, in Manchester. In winter the sun set early, it rained a lot, and I walked to work along a foggy ring road. Now I sit down at my desk with a blue sky view of Mt. Fuji, and it feels like all that hard work has paid off.

How I Used Language School to Land a Japanese Tech Job

2026-05-12T16:43:27+09:00

The story of how I moved to Japan is nothing particularly new or unique. Enrolling in language school with the aim of eventually getting a job in Japan is one common route among many.

Nonetheless, it was absolutely the right move for me, and I’d highly recommend it to others in the IT industry as a great entry point into Japan.

In this article I’ll go into detail on the language school route, as someone who has been through the process in 2022, and was then able to successfully land a job as Project Manager for a Japanese e-commerce company.

Why I chose to attend Japanese language school
Why I suggest a school outside the big cities
How long my course lasted
The steps of enrollment
Where I lived (and why)
What we studied in class
How much language school and life in Japan costs
Why getting a part-time job is really important
How long it took me to reach N2
How I conducted my job hunt, and what I learned from it

Why did I go to language school?

I had several specific reasons for moving to Japan as a student first, before finding a job.

My JLPT N4 level wasn’t going to be enough

First, I knew my future job in Japan would require me to possess a high level of Japanese. To share a bit about my background, I am a project manager with over a decade of experience in my home country, and I am also ITIL and PMP-certified. In terms of Japanese ability, I had already passed both JLPT N5 and N4 before moving to Japan.

It was obvious to me that if I wanted to be a successful project manager in Japan, I needed to be able to communicate in Japanese fluently with my clients and colleagues. My N4 wasn’t going to cut it.

I made it my goal while in language school to pass at least JLPT N2, and then look for a job afterwards.

Language school let me ease into life in Japan

Second, moving to Japan as a student first helped ease me into life in Japan. The school guided me through dedicated lectures on the following:

Finding an apartment and managing utilities
Opening a bank account
Interacting with city hall
Mailing documents through the post office

Best of all, they helped me with getting a part-time job, particularly with:

Creating a Japanese resume (履歴書, rirekisho)
Guidance on the Japanese interview process
Explaining how to get permission to do part-time work from Immigration

I’ll get more into the how and why of getting a part-time job below.

A Student visa makes you easier to hire later

Lastly, moving to Japan to attend language school granted me a Student visa. Since I was already a resident of Japan, that made it easier for employers to hire me.

As a student I could convert my status of residence fairly easily to an Engineer visa, and do it in-country, as compared to needing to be sponsored from abroad, which is a process that takes months.

In fact, when I did get a job offer in Tokyo, it took under two months to convert my Student visa into an Engineer visa. Funnily enough, it was on my graduation day that the law firm my company had hired contacted me, notifying me that the conversion had been successful.

Where did I go for language school?

My most important consideration before enrolling was where in Japan I should study. After giving it some thought, I decided to study at Kawahara E-Business College in Matsuyama in the Ehime Prefecture, which is located in the Shikoku region, roughly 660 kilometers from Tokyo.

There were two reasons why I decided to study in a medium-sized city in Ehime instead of a mega city like Tokyo or Osaka.

Cost of living is lower in smaller cities

The cost of living in Ehime is cheaper than the big cities. For reference, you can look at my school’s Application Guidebook, where they list Ehime’s transportation and housing expenses as a major selling point for studying there.

The bigger the city, the more distractions

More importantly, having already visited Japan several times as a tourist, I knew that there was no way I could focus on studying if I lived in Tokyo or Osaka, with everything going on there.

I had to remember that first and foremost that I will be moving to Japan as a student, and as such I should focus on my schooling. I needed to be in the best environment to do nothing but study, and that is why I intentionally avoided the big cities and chose Ehime.

I also figured that if I could live in Ehime, I could live anywhere in Japan.

How long does language school take?

With my choice of school locked in, my next step was deciding which course to take. The school offered several choices between one to two years in length.

Taking into consideration my N4 level and my October start date, I decided to take the 18-month course, which is designed to get any student to N2. I felt this would give me enough time to get to that level. This would also mean graduating in March, shortly before the April hiring season in Japan.

What are the steps to enroll?

With both where and how long I would be in language school settled, I contacted the school directly and went through the process of enrollment.

Pass the interview. This was done via Skype and took around an hour. The questions revolved around why I wanted to study in Japan. Since I had already passed N4, they wanted to test my ability, which they did by showing me flashcards then asking “What is that [thing/action]?” If anything, the school is looking to confirm your genuine desire to learn Japanese.
Submit the required documents. You can find a list in the school’s Application Guidebook.
Pay the tuition fee. This was done by wire transfer. The bank details were provided by the school, and it went through without any issues.
Get my visa. This involved first obtaining the Certificate of Eligibility, then applying for the Student visa in my home country, which took around 6 months.

With bags packed and Student visa in hand, my goal was clear. I had 18 months to get my Japanese to at least N2 level, then find a tech job before I graduated!

Where can you stay?

In my case the school’s dormitory was already fully occupied, so they offered to find me an apartment that was close to the school. The apartment I rented required a guarantor, which the school offered to be.

They also helped me set up the utilities (electricity, internet, heating, etc.). For this they reserved the utilities on my behalf. When I arrived I set up the payments, first with my credit card, and then eventually via bank transfer when I had my own bank account.

What did I do in language school?

My classes in language school lasted three hours every weekday. They were primarily divided into two phases.

The JLPT prep period

This happened at the start of every semester (April/October), in preparation for one of the two JLPT exam months (July/December).

During these classes, textbooks were primarily JLPT-aligned, such as “Try!” for grammar and はじめての日本語能力試験N3単語 (Hajimete no nihongo nouryoku shiken N3 tango) for vocabulary.

Teachers focused each week on a different portion of the JLPT.

Kanji
Vocabulary
Grammar
Reading
Listening

Mock exams were held one month before the JLPT, followed by a debrief session on how to answer the test.

The post-JLPT period

After the JLPT test, we would have other language-related and general school events (since we were all just waiting for the exam results anyway).

These included:

Speech contests
Essay writing
Oral presentations, both in class and outside school (during our final semester we had to present something about our home country to a class of Japanese college students)
Annual school fair
Annual sports festival
Field trips such as to Matsuyama Castle

How much does language school cost?

For those considering language school as your entry point to Japan, here is a table of how much I spent, on average, while studying in Ehime.

Expense	Amount
Tuition fee for the 18 month course	1,020,000 yen total
1DK Apartment	30,000 yen/month
Electricity	3,000 yen/month
Internet	2,000 yen/month
Gas	2,000 yen/month
Cellphone	4,500 yen/month

As an international student in Japan you are allowed to work part time (under 28 hours per week), and the hourly rate while I was studying was on average 1200 yen. Working around 20 hours per week should be enough to cover your daily expenses.

While having a part-time job as a language school student is completely optional, I jumped at the chance. It would give me more opportunities to use Japanese, which in turn would give me more confidence when it came time to look for jobs.

The process I had to go through was:

Pass a written test from the school to confirm my aptitude to take on part-time work. The questions were mostly about vocabulary and grammar, which I was already learning in class, so it wasn’t that difficult.
File for permission to engage in part-time work at the Immigration office. The school gave me guidance on how to fill in the application form, and then I had to go to the Immigration office myself to file.
Create a Japanese resume to show my prospective employer.
Schedule an interview with a potential employer, then decide on my start date.
Submit a monthly timesheet to the school confirming my work hours, which needed to be signed by my employer as well.

I got a job at a convenience store during my time at school, which I think is the best kind of part-time job you can get if you want to maximize your speaking practice. At a restaurant, for example, you only have to remember the menu, whereas at a convenience store you can get asked all sorts of questions which will stretch your vocabulary to its limits if you’re not prepared, such as being asked, “Where is the nearest post office?”

More than anything, having a part-time job helped show me what it’s like working in a fully Japanese environment, talking directly with bosses, colleagues, and customers.

When I started my convenience store job, I was put on the afternoon shift (5 p.m.–10 p.m.), which was the busiest time for the store every day. I worked with my shift leads, who showed me, not just how to handle the cash register, but also how to prepare the fried foods, physically stock the shelves, and properly dispose of food approaching its expiration date.

The store owner and manager liked the work I did and trusted me to the point that, when my more senior colleagues were moved to the night shift, they asked me to teach the new hires. This experience gave me hope. If I was able to make such an impact at a part-time job in Japan, how much more could I do when I got that tech job I was aiming for?

How long did it take me to get to N2?

Because I applied myself to both my part-time job and my studies, it only took me one year in language school to skip from N4 to N2. Some other students only relied on what was given, while I made sure to get as much exposure to native materials as possible.

One thing that helped accelerate my studies was reading manga. While the school textbooks provided the foundation, manga helped confirm what I learned with authentic Japanese material.

However, even though I had the JLPT N2 certificate in my hands, I knew my mission wasn’t complete. Getting the credential was only one part of the equation. Now I had to find a company who was willing to take on someone whose Japanese experience was limited to language school and a convenience store.

How did I find my tech job?

I started my job hunt around six months before graduation. The school did recommend going to job fairs, but none of them had any IT jobs, so I relied on LinkedIn. I would just submit my CV to the job posting, and hours or days later I would be contacted by a recruiter. We would talk about the position, and go from there if I could get an interview soon after.

I soon learned several things from these experiences.

Applying directly to a company never worked (for me at least)

It was really painful to fill out an application form, which takes time to do, only to get a rejection email a few days or even weeks later.

The only explanation I ever got (if I got any at all) was that I’d been rejected because I wasn’t N1-certified, even though the job posting didn’t require N1.

That is why I gave up entirely on applying to companies directly, and worked with recruiters instead.

You need to be thick-skinned

While most recruiters and interviewers I contacted were generally easy to speak to, whether in English or Japanese, there were some with whom I had less-than-pleasant experiences. A few actually yelled at me when I gave them an answer they weren’t looking for, or when I asked for clarification.

I had to remind myself that these people are the exception and not the rule, and that I just had to keep moving forward.

Be prepared to fail

It took me a lot of time to get used to interviews, whether they were conducted entirely in Japanese or had both English and Japanese components.

I can’t begin to count how many interviews I failed because I was told that my Japanese wasn’t good enough. However, each failure gave me a chance to improve, so I just endured the heartbreak and resolved to do better next time.

The most painful experience during my job hunt was when, after passing the first two interviews entirely in Japanese, I was invited to the final interview with the company president himself, which required me to travel to their main office in Tokyo. Despite my best efforts, I failed the final interview, and the feedback was that my Japanese wasn’t good enough for the president. This made me doubt whether I could get a job at all.

However, after talking to my homeroom teacher about it, the conclusion I reached was that if I was able to get to the final interview stage with one company, I should be able to get a job offer from another. Funnily enough, it was the job I interviewed for immediately after this failure that finally gave me that offer.

Should you go to language school?

As with any major life decision, moving to Japan to study requires commitment. With proper planning and effort, those who see it through until the end will be rewarded.

Going to language school is without a doubt one of the best decisions I have ever made. Not only did it give me the tools to land a tech job in Japan, but also taught me enough about the Japanese language, culture, and way of doing things to help me lead a fulfilling life here for many years to come.

Working Out, Gaining Weight, and Building Muscle in Japan—For Cheap

2026-05-07T10:34:34+09:00

When I arrived in Japan in September 2023, I was a skinny 23-year-old guy, measuring 178 centimeters tall and weighing around 55 kilograms. I had been a stick man all my life, and after a couple of months in Tokyo, I even lost a couple more kilos—probably due to the one-onigiri-for-lunch diet it’s easy to fall into when adjusting to life in Japan. I decided I wanted to put on some muscle.

By the time I left the country in August 2024, I was already at a much healthier, much stronger 68 kilograms. I’m not a professional trainer, nutritionist, or sports science professional, but I still got results, and I did it without spending all my yen either.

In this article I’ll share how I achieved that, and give you my top tips on:

Working out in Tokyo’s parks, for free
What gyms to join and what to expect
Eating out without breaking the bank
Good groceries for bulking and where to get them
Supplements you can find in Tokyo (hint: Don Quijote might be your best bet)

Working out for free

Tokyo has an abundance of parks throughout the city. Since I needed to work out in order to achieve my goal, I figured, why not start out doing calisthenics?

Calisthenics is a form of strength training where you use your body weight as resistance, and it has the benefit of being completely free–if you can find a good place to exercise.

Big parks

There are two kinds of parks in Tokyo available for calisthenics workouts. The first is big parks—in my case, it was Ueno Park. Right next to the pond in Ueno Park there is some calisthenics equipment. In this kind of park, you’ll typically see pull-up bars of different heights. If you are lucky, you may even find other equipment, like parallel bars.

I worked out in Ueno Park a couple of times. Other people there are actually training and not just playing around. You can also see some groups of friends working out together, so if you want to make some friends, you may have it easier there.

On the other hand, these parks are usually crowded. The couple of times I trained there, I had to take turns using the equipment. I also had some older Japanese guys looking at me and clapping after every pull-up, repeating “Sugoi!” (“Wow, amazing!”). It was a cute experience, and I definitely felt like I was Baki Hanma, though instead of doing multiple one-arm pullups like it’s nothing I was doing about eight pull-ups and then resting for two minutes. I usually prefer working out by myself, without any distractions.

Small neighborhood parks

There are also many smaller, neighbourhood parks in Tokyo. These have sometimes just one pull-up bar next to the river, or a couple of pull-up bars between some trees. They are usually empty, except for a couple of runners who like to do pull-ups between their runs. Not many people wander around them, at least if you work out later in the day to avoid the heat from the sun.

One good experience I had was opening Google Maps, finding three or four parks, and walking for a couple of hours touring them and trying to find calisthenics equipment. It was a little adventure that helped me discover more of Tokyo, but with health benefits.

In the end I started training in the small local park nearest to my apartment, which had just one pull-up bar next to some tennis courts. There were a lot of families with kids there every afternoon. That may seem like a disadvantage to you, but in my experience, the kids and their parents were very polite and usually didn’t interrupt my workout. Working out in general, and probably calisthenics in particular, is not very mainstream. So you can get some “Sugoi!” comments and funny interactions with the families.

I remember one afternoon, a small kid started looking at me and asking their father questions. Then they both got curious, and the father approached me and asked me something. I was mid-workout and couldn’t understand, so I said “Sumimasen, nihongo wa chotto . . .” (“Sorry, my Japanese isn’t good.”). The kid just looked at me and kept repeating “Saakasu?” (“Circus?”) It took me three tries, and then I got it—yes, they were wondering if I was a circus acrobat because I was training with gymnastic rings. It was a great laugh, but it also made me realize just how unknown calisthenics were (and are) in Japan.

Investing in gymnastics rings

One of the things that is different about calisthenics in Tokyo compared to other places is the lack of variety in equipment. In Spain, even before calisthenics were popular, there would be at least a couple of pull-up bars, a couple of parallel bars, some low bars, etc.. I don’t know why in Tokyo, most of the time, you find one or two pull-up bars in a park and that’s it. Of course, you can go to the few parks that have more equipment, but the way I overcame the problem was by using gymnastics rings (つり輪, tsuri wa).

The height of the pull-up bars in Tokyo is . . . not so great. On most of them, I couldn’t even extend my legs while doing pull-ups. It’s not ideal for rings, but you can do pull-ups, dips, pushups, inverted rows, etc., using just one pull-up bar, so I still highly recommend them.

You can probably find gymnastics rings secondhand on Mercari. You’ll need some creativity and a lot of YouTube videos to figure out how to target different muscles with the rings, but the portability and versatility are a blessing in Japan.

I recommend wooden rings over plastic ones. Wood provides a more reliable grip than plastic, which is a crucial factor during Japan’s humid summers, when sweaty hands are prone to slipping. With some care, the rings can last for a long time.

Seasonal suggestions

Doing calisthenics outside is free, but there are downsides—let’s not forget about the weather. I was mostly scared about working out during the summer because of the high humidity and the heat. But to be fair, just get some Pocari Sweat and work out early or late in the day, and you are good to go.

To Spanish readers out there, you can also find Aquarius in Japan! Make sure not to underestimate the heat and humidity combo and hydrate plenty. You will probably have a convenience store or vending machine close enough to your park of choice to grab a drink before you go.

In many ways, what I struggled more with than the heat was the cold. Yes, Tokyo has a winter season. Yes, it will get cold. Don’t forget about it, and dress appropriately.

I highly recommend the HEATTECH clothing at Uniqlo for working out in cold weather. It is affordable and will also be useful if you want to do some hiking in any of the wonderful mountains of Japan.

But most importantly, it rains a lot in Tokyo. You might not be surprised by this depending on where you are from, but when you plan your routine, you have to factor in that there will be rain throughout the year, not only during the rainy season. During rainy seasons, you may get rain for 15 to 20 days of the month! So you should build some flexibility into your workout schedule.

From parks to the gym

Working out for free in parks is good, but it does have its limitations, as we have seen. The natural choice for convenience would be a gym.

Commercial gyms vs your municipal sports center

If you want to join a gym in Japan, be prepared to spend a lot of money . . . or so I thought.

Gyms are not as popular in Japan as in Western countries, but there are multiple commercial chains and private gyms. In my experience, the closest gym to my apartment charged 11,000 yen per month. That’s double what I paid in Spain for the same kind of gym.

There are cheaper chains, but still, all of them were kind of expensive for my budget. I visited a couple of these, and they were exactly like Western gyms: lots of machines, free weights, etc.

There is another option available: your municipal sports centers. You need to live in that municipality to register in most of them, but they are much cheaper than commercial gyms. In my case, the monthly fee at my sports center was under 3,000 yen.

What to expect at a sports center

Be prepared for a more limited experience, particularly with regards to weight training. I was surprised they’d filled half of the already small area with treadmills. The other half included machines, free weights, and a stretching area.

These gyms are used by everyday people: the elderly, parents who get some free time after work or around their childcare obligations, etc. So these places don’t cater to bodybuilders. Also, if you talk about the gym with Japanese people, you may find that most of them go there to lose weight, not gain it.

That said, and in my personal experience (this may vary depending on your area), I found everything I really required. I just had to rethink my gym experience. You don’t need three different machines for targeting your pectorals, you have some dumbbells and an adjustable bench. What else is needed?

Dumbbells are also more limited than in Western gyms in terms of maximum weight. But I’m not trying to fool anyone here—I didn’t need them to be 30 kilograms or more.

In my case, there was also no squat rack. If you wanted to do squats, there was one Smith machine.

Enrolling

To enroll in this type of gym, be prepared to take some kind of examination and to speak some Japanese (or bring a friend who can do it). I was weighed and had my blood pressure taken, and then I filled out a paper with multiple questions about my health—all in handwritten Japanese.

The staff was friendly, and they helped with handwriting, but they knew almost no English. Also, they explained how to use the gym in Japanese.

I can hear you asking: “Wait, what do you mean by ‘how to use the gym’?”

Japan’s gym rules

The staff weren’t talking about how to use the machines (although of course they can help with that, too). They were teaching me some very specific gym etiquette.

I was surprised I had to wipe the equipment (dumbbells, machines, etc.) before and after using them with the cloth and disinfectant spray provided there. Also, before using the barbell and bench setup or the Smith machine, I had to reserve a slot by writing my name on a paper.

This routine may vary in other gyms, obviously, but I loved the custom of cleaning before and after using the equipment. I wish this was also done in Spain.

Another difference I discovered in Japanese gym culture was the silence: no loud grunts or screams, and nobody was chatting at a high volume. Also, people did not use the equipment in turns. I am used to sharing a machine when the gym is crowded, but there I never saw anybody using equipment in turns. I can understand that if you are supposed to clean before and after using the equipment, it would become very tedious to rotate between users.

I also found fewer people using their phones at all during their workouts. Almost nobody was just sitting around on a machine, taking really long breaks and looking at their phone. I almost felt bad about making notes on my reps and weights on my phone between sets.

Despite these limitations, I really enjoyed training there and stayed enrolled for most of the year, while also continuing calisthenics on the side. That said, training was only part of the equation.

Gaining weight cheaply

Working out is important if you want to gain weight and muscle, but you also need the fuel for it, so now let’s talk about food.

Eating out

Let’s start with the easiest way—eating out. Fortunately, eating out in Japan is generally cheap and healthy. In Tokyo you have a whole range of options, from American fast food chains to luxury restaurants.

There is a common misconception that Japanese food is inherently healthy, but that really depends on what you’re eating and how it’s prepared. It’s important not to assume everything is going to be nutritious and cheap.

I would recommend exercising common sense—if it’s a Japanese dish but you can see everything is fried, of course it’s not going to be the best for your health or your muscle gain.

Bento

You already probably know about bento (弁当), Japanese pre-made boxed meals. You can buy them at convenience stores, supermarkets, and other kinds of stores.

Generally you can expect a somewhat balanced meal in a bento. Usually they have rice as the carbohydrate, meat or tofu for protein, and veggies, including pickled vegetables as a side.

What you may not know is that there are some street sellers of handmade bento in office areas. They have large bento for cheaper than what you’d usually see at a store. (Of course, don’t forget your cash for this.)

I remember while I was studying in a language school at Shibuya, some of my peers found a seller near the school, and we would take turns going to buy bento for everybody. They were huge for the price.

Family restaurants

If you can’t find a trusty local “bento dealer” in your area, your next best bet would be chain restaurants. In fact, that was where I usually ate my dinner when I worked out late in the evening at some random park far from my apartment.

I recommend going to Matsuya since you get a reasonably-sized bowl of rice with beef (牛丼, gyuudon) for around 400 yen.

Several different types of sauce are available for free on the tables, so you can go ham with those. The sauces may be great if you need some extra free calories, but don’t overdo them, if you want to gain both weight and muscle and not just weight.

Other chains offer different kinds of rice bowl dishes (丼, donburi) and other specialties for a low price. If you feel adventurous, you can try to find a local restaurant with a more home-style meal for a similar price.

THE カロリー (THE Calorie)

Speaking of extra calories, I remember when I opened LINE news one day and saw the announcement for the new THE Calorie lineup from Lawson. What caught my interest was the cutlet sandwich (カツサンド , katsu sando).

If you don’t know what a katsu sando is, it’s a sandwich with a breaded pork cutlet (豚カツ, tonkatsu) inside. Other ingredients include shredded cabbage and katsu sauce or mayonnaise. The THE Calorie version of the katsu sando was a whopping 1300 calories packed into an almost normal-sized sandwich.

At first, I was a bit confused since I couldn’t find these high-calorie foods anywhere. Then I realized I was looking for them at normal Lawson convenience stores, but they were being sold at Lawson 100 stores. You need the green stores with a 100 on the sign, not the regular blue ones.

These sandwiches may not be the healthiest. I imagine they probably had to pump up the calories with the sauce. But the ones I ate were tasty and had a lot of meat, and I did not feel at all awful after eating one. Use these with caution, but if you are underweight and have a busy day, it’s a good way to catch up fast on your calorie intake.

I saw there were some desserts in the THE Calorie lineup and other kinds of sandwiches, but I never tried them. I wasn’t interested in only sugar calories, and I just couldn’t find the other sandwiches. Plus, I already loved regular katsu sando, so this THE Calorie version was like a gift from heaven for me.

Supermarkets

Eating out is cheap and great if you’re busy, but you may soon realize you don’t want to keep eating out for every meal of the day. Also, at some point you get lazy, it is raining outside, and you don’t want to walk anywhere. So you go to the closest option, which is usually a convenience store—and then you end up in a loop of eating convenient, but not as cheap, food. At the same time, you may find that Tokyo is full of small to medium-sized supermarkets, which are not that cheap compared to eating out.

Finding the right supermarket

The natural impulse is to try to find a bigger and cheaper supermarket. These are usually multifloor buildings and do offer more variety in both products and prices.

However, there weren’t any close to where I lived. I found that buying small amounts of groceries far away took a lot of time, but buying in bulk and then riding the train was either impossible or very uncomfortable. Walking may be an option if you have time, but I wouldn’t recommend carrying food that needs to be refrigerated on a 45-minute walk under the sun while it’s 30 degrees outside.

Finally I located Niku no Hanamasa (肉のハナマサ), a supermarket for small restaurants. There was a location 10 minutes away from my home, and this is where I found the cheapest two kilogram bag of frozen chicken breasts.

Rice was also cheap there, and just for convenience, I bought frozen mixed vegetables as well. I would get a nice workout carrying a couple of two kilogram bags of frozen chicken, a five kilogram bag of rice, and some smaller frozen vegetable bags, all uphill to my apartment. What a great quadriceps burner that was!

Even though I never ended up shopping there because it was too far from my apartment, there is another similar supermarket for buying cheap bulk groceries, Gyomu Super (業務スーパー). It’s often compared to Niku no Hanamasa, but tends to focus less on meat and more on frozen foods.

What groceries to buy

Since I was on a budget and also trying to put on some muscle, my main target was chicken, especially chicken breast: the cheaper, the better. Another key is buying five kilogram (or heavier, if you are confident you can carry it home) rice bags. Add some veggies and some spices or sauce, and you have a great main meal. If you sometimes change the chicken for pork or tofu, you’ve got everything you need for a variety of simple, cheap, high-protein dishes.

Another staple is eggs. Please don’t buy them from the convenience store, as you can get them for half the price elsewhere.

While on the hunt for good deals on eggs, I also found low-cost vegetables in the neighborhood, at a store called Star Fruits (スターフルーツ, sutaa furuutsu). They are a low-priced vegetable store, and you can get cheap eggs there too, so I definitely recommend it.

You may also be wondering about milk, both for the protein and the fat content. It is indeed a good option for gaining weight if you are fortunate enough to tolerate it. Surprisingly, it was not that easy to find lactose-free milk in Tokyo, at least not actual milk. There are tons of options for soy milk, almond milk, etc.

I was under the impression that lactose intolerance was highly prevalent in Japan. While genetic predisposition does seem high, that doesn’t necessarily mean they completely avoid lactose. Many Japanese people can still handle small amounts of it, both in milk and other processed foods. I found lactose everywhere—even bread had it.

Fortunately in my case I am not intolerant, or at least I have not been tested for it, and I can manage any kind of dairy except milk. The only place near my apartment that sold something similar to lactose-free milk was one of the two Santoku supermarkets. It was an “80% lactose cut” milk that my body tolerated well, called “Gentle on the Stomach” by Accadi (アカディおなかにやさしく, akadi onaka ni yasashiku).

Whey protein and other supplements

Speaking of milk, it’s time to discuss supplements. I highly recommend whey (or any other kind of) protein powder, especially if you have been skinny throughout your life. In my case, eating enough protein and calories was the most limiting factor, so drinking a couple of protein shakes a day helped a lot.

In stores

My first encounter with protein powder in Japan was at Don Quijote (popularly known as “Donki”), which may be your best bet.

At Donki I was amazed to find Hatsune Miku collaboration protein powders and many different flavors, like matcha and Royal Milk Tea. There are a wide variety of brands available for different price ranges, so you’re sure to find something you like.

One thing I struggled to locate was creatine monohydrate. There were a myriad of other supplements available in stores, but not creatine. I found that odd, since creatine is probably second only to protein powder in popularity across Western markets, but maybe not in Japan, at least at that time.

There are also specialized stores that carry many brands of protein powder, but I found them more expensive.

Online

Eventually I discovered that Myprotein whey protein, which is sold in Donki and other stores, also has an online shop for Japan. While many people order supplements through Amazon, Rakuten, or iHerb, I found the prices there were generally higher.

Myprotein is cheaper on the website, and they have a lot of recurring sales. They also offer creatine, mass gainer, etc., and deliveries were quick. This became my go-to site for supplements.

Other supplies

For a shaker, I first went full cheapskate and bought one at the popular 100 yen store, Daiso, for precisely 110 yen. I also recommend Daiso for any kitchenware you may need, but that’s another story.

Unfortunately, that shaker lacked a mixing mechanism like a spring ball or mesh, and I got tired of drinking large protein chunks. I went back to Donki, which has multiple options and price ranges, and bought a 400 yen Myprotein-branded shaker that I still use to this day.

Final thoughts

My time living in Tokyo was wonderful for many reasons, but one thing I hadn’t expected to achieve when I moved there was gaining 13 kilograms in one year. While that number looked great, what mattered most was how I felt about the difference—even if it meant going up a size and changing my entire wardrobe!

My fitness journey not only made me healthier, but gave me a great reason to interact with locals, explore the city, and become less of a tourist. It truly made Tokyo my second home.

This article has been a collection of tips, but my most important advice is to not wait for the perfect setup. Be adaptable and make the most of your current environment. Walk around, explore, ask people! The resources are there if you are willing to look.

Investing in Japan When You Might Leave Next Year

2026-04-29T10:05:46+09:00

Let’s start with the obvious—asking yourself “How do I invest?” implies you have money left over after every paycheck, and that you have already set aside at least a three-month emergency fund.

If you’re fortunate enough to be in this position, though, figuring out how to secure your finances can feel a bit staggering. This is especially true when you are in a new country, operating in a different language and facing a totally unfamiliar set of rules and possibilities.

I have a lot of friends who simply leave their savings sitting in a regular bank account. They know it’s not ideal, but they either don’t know where to start, or the steps involved seem overwhelming. If that sounds familiar, then this article is for you.

A quick aside on the content you will find below:

I am not a financial advisor. I am just a bit of a nerd when it comes to numbers and personal finance, which is why I enjoy doing this kind of research.
I am assuming that every reader has a basic understanding of investing, such as what a stock is, why diversifying your portfolio matters, and why time in the market is generally better than timing the market.
To stay on track, I will avoid adjacent topics like active day trading or FX margin risk.

Most importantly, I’d like to stress that everyone’s situation is different. I can guide you through my personal journey of setting up my finances in Japan, but you shouldn’t blindly follow everything I’ve done. Think of the following information as a blueprint, not a strict recipe:

What to know about your investments back home
Identifying what kind of tax resident you are
How Japan taxes your investments
How to choose the right investment account for you
Selecting a broker
The steps of opening an account
My personal investment strategy
How to manage a NISA account
How to keep investing in just 10 minutes a month
Frequently Asked Questions

A big disclaimer for American readers: The US taxation system is uniquely complex for Americans living abroad. Between the taxation on global income and heavy regulations on foreign funds, these Japanese accounts become very hard to report and much less appealing to use.

Your investments back home

I am originally from France. Back there I followed a “lazy investor” approach, putting money into a global index fund every single month. This meant that regardless of what the stock market was doing, I was investing in an index composed of the biggest companies in the world. No stock picking, no trying to time the market.

This strategy is generally considered to offer the best risk-to-reward ratio over time, especially given the minimal amount of effort it requires. My goal was to replicate this exact setup here in Japan.

But even before I started investing in Japan, I had to figure out some things. What about my existing investments in France—were they going to be taxed in Japan? And if I started investing in Japan now, would France tax that, too? If you don’t know much about France, we are known for our humor, delicious croissants, and having some of the highest taxes in the world.

In my case, all the answers were in a single document: the France-Japan Tax Treaty. Most countries have similar agreements with each other. These documents generally explain how and where your income should be taxed when you are living in another country, specifically to avoid double taxation.

Yes, double taxation is a real risk. By the way, these treaties don’t just apply to investments; they usually cover all forms of income, including your salary or real estate.

There is another important piece of context to add—how long have you been living in Japan?

Are you a tax resident of Japan?

If, like me, you’re not a Japanese citizen and have lived in Japan for less than 5 years out of the past 10, you are most likely considered a Non-Permanent Resident (NPR) for income tax purposes. For other tax purposes, your status will depend on your nationality, duration of stay, and type of visa, so be sure to check carefully before you assume.

Tax residency is different from actual residency. Not everyone who lives in Japan and has a visa is a tax resident, and vice versa.

Income tax resident status matters because it changes how we must report our foreign income. If you are considered a Permanent Tax Resident, you must report all income, both domestic and foreign. If you are an NPR, however, you only need to report foreign income if you actually bring that money into Japan.

How Japan taxes your investments

Now, let’s take a look at the default tax scheme here in Japan:

Taxes are only due on capital gains and dividends, not on your total portfolio value.
Taxes are applied to realized gains. This means if you don’t sell your assets or generate dividends, no taxes are due.
A flat rate of 20.315% is applied.

Overall, it is pretty similar to France, except the taxes are lower. (Did I already mention that it is hard to compete with France in that regard?)

Choosing the right investment account

Since I had confirmed I could invest here and understood the tax schemes, I needed to figure out how to invest. Usually every country has various investment accounts that you can open to invest in ETFs or funds, each with different tax advantages and conditions.

For instance, in France, you have the Compte Titres Ordinaire (CTO), which is the default investment account. There is no limit on how many of these you can open, and it comes with a default tax rate on capital gains of 31.4%. But you also have access to the Plan d’Épargne en Actions (PEA), a special account where you are limited to opening just one. It has a deposit cap and a minimum holding period before you can withdraw your money, but in return the tax rate is reduced to 18.6%.

This is a huge difference, so I needed to find out if Japan offered a similar tax-advantaged account.

Default accounts

The default investment accounts here are the General Account (一般口座, ippan kouza) and the Specific Account (特定口座, tokutei kouza). They are essentially the same, but they differ on who keeps the records and pays the taxes.

General Account: You need to track everything and pay your taxes on your own.
Specific Account: The broker tracks everything for you, calculates your profits, and issues an annual transaction report. You just need to decide whether to open it with or without tax withholding. If you choose withholding, the 20.315% tax mentioned earlier is automatically deducted when necessary. If you choose no withholding, you need to file a tax return yourself every year.

To be honest, I am not sure why anyone would choose a General Account. Apparently some investments cannot be held in a Specific Account, but since that doesn’t apply to my situation I didn’t dive too deeply into it.

The NISA

The tax-advantaged investment account, similar to my French PEA, is called the Nippon Individual Savings Account (NISA). It is basically a Specific Account where your capital gains are completely tax-free!

Of course the NISA is not unlimited. You can only open one, and in it you can invest up to a maximum of 18 million yen.

The annual allowance is split into two parts: a Growth portion (up to 2.4 million yen per year) and a Savings portion (up to 1.2 million yen per year). The Savings portion has additional restrictions on how you can invest and which funds you can buy, but for a global index strategy like mine, that’s really no issue.

If you do the math, you can fully max out your NISA in a minimum of five years (that is, if you manage to save an average of 300,000 yen a month).

The iDeCo

The next interesting plan is called the Individual Defined Contribution Pension (iDeCo). Essentially, this account offers tax advantages when you withdraw the funds, and you can even deduct the money you invest from your taxable annual income. However it is designed for retirement, meaning you generally cannot withdraw the money until you reach the age of 60.

To be honest I haven’t researched it too deeply because I am not using it—a decision I’ll explain further later.

The Corporate DC

The last one is the Corporate DC (企業型DC, kigyou-gata DC). It has the same basic concept as iDeCo, but it is company-sponsored. This one is very much like a 401(k), for our American friends.

And the winner is . . .

For me personally, a Corporate DC account was out of the question, as my company does not offer one.

iDeCo is considered one of the best options here, and it is often overlooked by foreigners. However I decided against it as I currently have no idea if I am going to stay in Japan forever, or for just a couple of years. Having my money locked in another country, without the possibility of getting it back until I am 60, scares me a bit.

The most obvious choice, and the one I would recommend to everyone, is to open a NISA. There is basically no reason to use another investment account before you hit the limit on this one, unless the specific funds you want to invest in are not NISA eligible. That is not an issue for me, as global index funds are fully eligible.

Which broker is best?

To decide which broker to use for my NISA, I compared them based on a few key criteria: popularity, fund selection, fees, and ease of use.

Regarding fees, I soon found that none of the major players were charging any—no maintenance fees, trading commissions, etc. So there was nothing to evaluate on that front.

Online

The standard in Japan nowadays is to use an online broker. Among the most popular are familiar names like Rakuten, Monex, and SBI Securities.

There are also alternative options to consider. For instance, if you mainly use PayPay, they offer a NISA as well.

International residents might also be familiar with Interactive Brokers (IBKR). They started offering a NISA last year, which could be great if you plan to leave Japan eventually, as you potentially wouldn’t have to sell your investments when you leave. However their NISA was new when I was doing my research, and I didn’t want to take the risk of using a new product.

Traditional banks

Traditional banks also usually offer a NISA, but the downside is they provide far fewer investment options. This might have been a non-issue since I only planned to invest in global index funds that are supported by almost every provider, but I like to keep my options open. Plus my regular bank did not offer a NISA anyway.

There is potentially one good reason to go with a traditional bank. I personally don’t speak Japanese, so I was really hoping to find an online option that supported English. If you were hoping for the same, I’m sorry to disappoint you. While IBKR might support English, the major Japanese brokers definitely do not. You will have to rely on Google Translate for everything.

If you don’t speak Japanese and are already familiar with your current Japanese bank’s interface, that might be a good reason to just stick with them, in order to make your life easier.

Point systems

If you have been living in Japan for a while, you probably know that people love to collect points here. And guess what? You can collect points while investing in your NISA too! So depending on the point ecosystem you are already in, that might influence your choice. This wasn’t a factor for me, as I am not really into chasing points and rewards (ポイ活, poi-katsu).

Why SBI

In the end, I decided to go with SBI Securities. I don’t use the Rakuten ecosystem at all and SBI’s interface just looked a bit cleaner to me than Monex’s. Honestly, though, you can’t really go wrong with any of those three options.

Opening the account

Opening the account was pretty similar to opening a bank account in Japan. Don’t expect to complete the process in 10 minutes and start investing right away.

First you have to complete the initial registration online, and then they send you a physical form in the mail. It is mostly pre-filled with the information you already provided, but you have to send it back with a copy of your ID. Then you wait again for them to review the documents.

If I remember correctly, it took me about two to three weeks from start to finish, which is not too bad. At least I didn’t have any issues with how I entered my name or anything like that. If you live in Japan, you are probably already familiar with how an information mismatch can take ages to resolve.

One quick note: Before opening a NISA, you actually need to have a regular investment account with the broker. I was able to open both at the same time and I assume you can do the same at any broker (don’t quote me on that).

I had to choose between a General Account and a Specific Account. As I mentioned earlier, I see no point in choosing a General Account, so I went with the Specific. I also selected the “with tax withholding” option because I don’t currently file a tax return myself, making this the simplest route. If I’m not mistaken, you can always change this withholding option later anyway.

What I’m investing in

I wanted a simple global index fund just like I had back in France. The most popular ones here are managed by eMAXIS Slim, which offers variations that track a World Index or the S\&P 500. If you go with another broker, such as Rakuten, they might offer their own in-house funds that track the exact same indices.

To avoid confusing my European friends—these are not ETFs like we are used to. They are Mutual Funds. Without going into unnecessary detail, this basically means you aren’t buying the shares directly on the open market. Instead, you are placing an order that the fund manager will execute later. If I place an order on the morning of the 6th, it will usually be completed the next day, and I will see the funds in my NISA account about a week later.

Managing the account

How do I actually manage the account now? As I mentioned, I apply a lazy investor approach using a dollar-cost averaging (DCA) strategy at the start of every month. The only exception is when I get a bonus at work and want to put in a bit more.

For this example, let’s imagine I want to max out my NISA every year, which means investing 300,000 yen every month (a man can dream).

Send the money

First I need to send money to my SBI account. There are several ways to fund your account, but I use a standard bank transfer. If your bank is connected to SBI’s network, the transfer is instant. If it isn’t (as in my case), SBI gives you a specific account number and a reference code to include when you make the transfer.

If I send the money in the morning, it usually shows up in my account by the afternoon. Once the money arrives, I need to allocate it into the two buckets I mentioned earlier, Growth and Savings.

Set up a schedule for the Savings account

The Savings portion is, as the name suggests, designed to make regular savings. You can’t just buy funds on the spot, you have to define a specific amount to be purchased on a recurring schedule.

In my example, I could configure a rule like: Every 14th of the month, buy 100,000 yen worth of this fund. Since the Savings portion is capped at 1.2 million yen per year, this setup will perfectly max it out. I just need to make sure I transfer enough money into my SBI account before the 14th.

I have friends who set up custom rules for their bonus months, like: Every 14th invest 50,000 yen, but in January and July, invest 300,000 yen instead. This has the same results in the end.

A quick note: I always manually transfer money to my SBI account beforehand. However for the Savings portion, you can actually skip this step. Most people register a credit card to be charged directly for these automated purchases (for the extra points!). I did not do this, because my credit limit is quite low, since I only arrived recently.

Then manage the Growth account

Now for the Growth portion, which is where you can make transactions at will. It may be possible to automate this as with Savings (depending on your broker), but I prefer to do it manually every time, since this is also when I check my account status. Following my example, this would mean I log in and buy 200,000 yen worth of the index fund every month. That’s it.

Just 10 minutes a month

And voilà! I hope this didn’t sound too complicated because it really isn’t. Once everything is set up, managing my investments takes me maybe 10 minutes a month. Here is a quick summary.

To do once:

Assess your investment options
Choose the funds you want to buy
Choose your broker
Open the account
If you choose NISA, set up the Savings portion schedule

To do every month:

Transfer money to your broker
Invest in the Growth portion

According to my Japanese friends, regular investing is part of the culture here. The government is promoting it and regularly changes the laws (in a good way) to encourage people to do it. I assume this is mostly because the public pension system is rarely enough to cover your living expenses once you retire—but that’s a subject for another article.

Frequently Asked Questions

A few quick closing remarks on questions you might have.

What if I max out my NISA?

If I can’t invest in my NISA anymore, either because I hit the 18 million yen lifetime limit or the 3.6 million yen annual limit, I will simply buy the exact same index funds using my Specific Account instead.

What about becoming a Permanent Tax Resident?

This usually happens after five years of residency. Personally, if I decide to stay in Japan long term, I will need to consider what to do with my French investments before I become a Permanent Tax Resident. In my case, it seems like selling them right before that deadline would be the best move.

What if I stay long term?

In that case, you should definitely take a look at opening an iDeCo. If my plans change and I decide to stay in Japan longer, I will do the same.

What if I leave Japan?

If you leave Japan, you are generally required to close your NISA. This means you will be forced to sell your positions, regardless of what the market is doing at that exact moment. Being forced to sell during a market dip is not good, so if I do plan to leave, I will prepare as early as possible to sell off my portfolio gradually. If you use an international broker like IBKR you might not be forced to sell, which is a major advantage.

Watch out for the Exit Tax as well. Depending on a few factors—like your visa status, how long you’ve lived in Japan, and the total value of your assets—you might actually need to pay taxes on your unrealized gains when you leave the country.

Organizing a tech meetup in Japan? TokyoDev will sponsor you.

2026-04-24T10:06:06+09:00

Developer communities have always been important to me, both personally and professionally. TokyoDev got its start when I began blogging about tech events in Japan. It turned into a thriving business thanks to the people I met at those events.

To give back to that same community, we’re now offering to sponsor any tech meetup that is:

An in-person event located anywhere in Japan.
Mainly for software engineers or related professionals (e.g. UX designers, product managers, security engineers, etc). The event can be open to other professionals or students, but software engineers should be the main audience.
Conducted in English. Alternatively, it explicitly supports international residents of Japan (e.g. a software engineer-focused Japanese learning event).
Non-profit and non-commercial.
An event that has been held at least once before.

We will reimburse the event’s expenses to a maximum of 1,000 yen per attendee—as that’s usually enough to cover pizza and drinks for participants.

I try to keep the sponsorship process as simple as possible, since I know (from experience) how busy you already are as an organizer. Here’s how it works:

Send me an email at paul@tokyodev.com asking for sponsorship. Include the following information:
- The name of the meetup
- Links to previous events
- The number of participants you draw on average
- The estimated budget for this particular event
I’ll get back to you to let you know if your meetup has been approved for sponsorship.
If TokyoDev does agree to sponsor you, you’ll initially pay for the expenses yourself, and we will reimburse you within 10 business days via domestic bank transfer.
In return, please list TokyoDev as a sponsor on the event page, with a link to our site, and mention us at least once during the event itself.
After the event, submit the receipts to me. Ideally you’ll obtain a formal receipt (領収書, ryoushuusho) addressed to “TokyoDev株式会社,” but if you can’t get that, a normal receipt is fine.
TokyoDev will refund that amount by domestic bank transfer.

If you have any questions, or suggestions on how to improve these procedures, I’d be happy to hear them.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is the initial sponsorship budget based on registrations, or actual attendance?

In your estimated budget, you should indicate the number of attendees you think will actually show up. For our own free events, we find that between 50–70% of registered participants attend.

The refund we make will be based on your actual costs, so you don’t need to worry about getting the budget exactly correct. We just want to know roughly what we’ll be on the hook for.

Where should I order food from?

The easiest option is Domino’s Pizza. There’s usually a coupon available through their site to get 50% off deliveries. I typically order one large pizza for every four projected attendees. Depending on which pizza you get, that works out to between 400–500 yen per attendee.

For a similar amount, we also sometimes place an order with a local onigiri or sandwich shop, though this involves picking the food up ourselves.

Where should I order drinks from?

We normally order drinks from Kakuyasu. They’ll deliver at no extra charge, and the prices are reasonable. You can only roughly specify when they’re dropped off, though, so you will need to coordinate delivery with the venue.

Yes, provided you take responsibility for ensuring that no minors consume the alcohol.

Can we use the sponsorship to rent a venue or equipment?

Yes, provided you fit within the 1,000 yen per attendee budget.

Are there any tax implications for me?

No. Since you’re paying expenses which we later refund, you aren’t responsible for any tax on the amount you receive from us.

What meetups has TokyoDev sponsored so far under this program?

How Magic: The Gathering Took Me from N2 to Japanese Fluency

2026-04-22T14:32:12+09:00

When I first arrived in Tokyo in 2024, I held a JLPT N2 certification—a milestone I had worked toward for years, from when I was still employed full-time in my home country, until I graduated from language school in Ehime. That certificate was key to landing my Project Manager job in Tokyo.

Once I started working, though, I realized that passing a test and actually “owning” a language are two different things. I had the technical ability to navigate professional tasks, but I wanted to do more than just survive in Japanese. I wanted to speak it with the same confidence I felt in English.

I found my answer in the one thing I had loved for over a decade—Magic: The Gathering. I decided to make Magic the place where I would stop being a learner, and start being a full participant. What began as a way to enjoy my hobby in a new city ended up having a profound and lasting impact on, not just my work, but my life in Japan as a whole.

Back in Ehime, the hobby scene was virtually non-existent, confining my Japanese practice to textbooks and classrooms. Moving to Tokyo changed everything. With access to a thriving local game community, I realized I had the perfect opportunity to finally “earn” my N2 through real-world application.

Following is a detailed, step-by-step breakdown of how I did just that, including:

How I localized my deck
How I prepared in advance for game sessions
Exactly how those sessions leveled up my Japanese
The impact these steps had on my life and career in Japan

Localizing the deck

Once I settled in Tokyo, I set a rule for myself that felt counterintuitive at first: As much as possible, every card I played had to be in Japanese.

For many international residents I know, the instinct is to stick with English cards to avoid confusion. But I realized that if I sat down with an English deck, I was forcing my Japanese opponents to adapt to me. If they didn’t know a card, the game would grind to a halt while we looked up a translation or called a judge. It was a friction point that I wanted to eliminate as much as possible.

By committing to Japanese cards, I shifted the “burden of explanation” entirely onto myself, while making the game more accessible for everyone else at the table.

Designing for clarity

I realized that if I wanted to succeed in only using Japanese cards, I needed to align my deck choice with my communication goals. For this reason I gravitated toward Aggro decks. These decks are proactive and have clear, logical game plans that are easier for an opponent to follow, as well as easier for me to explain accurately in Japanese.

A prime example is my Mono Red Prowess deck in Pioneer. The mechanics are elegant but require precise communication: I need to clearly announce every spell and then immediately confirm the updated power and toughness of my creatures.

English	Japanese
Prowess (Whenever you cast a noncreature spell, this creature gets +1/+1 until end of turn.)	果敢（あなたがクリーチャーでない呪文を唱えるたび、ターン終了時まで、このクリーチャーは＋１/＋１の修整を受ける。） kakan (anata ga kuri-cha- de nai jumon wo tonoaeru tabi, ta-n shuuryouji made, kono kuri-cha- wa +1/+1 no shuusei wo ukeru.)

By choosing a deck like this, I was able to focus on the quality of my Japanese delivery, and it allowed me to practice high-frequency phrases such as “Prowess” (果敢, kakan) and “Damage” (ダメージ, dameeji) until they became muscle memory.

The prep work

These games weren’t something I went into blindly.

One of my biggest goals was to avoid situations where a language barrier would force us to call a judge for a simple translation. I wanted to be so clear and confident that even if a complex interaction occurred, I could explain my side of the board fluently.

Before heading to a weekly event, I developed a specific routine to ensure I was ready.

Mapping card names

I researched the English names of my cards and their official Japanese translations, practicing the pronunciations until they were fluid. Here is a sample table I made for one of the first decks I built.

English	Japanese Name	Reading	Rules Text
Goblin Guide	ゴブリンの先達	ゴブリンのせんだつ, goburin no sendatsu	速攻（そっこう, sokkou)
Monastery Swiftspear	僧院の速槍	そういんのそくそう, souin no sokusou	速攻（そっこう, sokkou) 果敢（かかん, kakan)
Eidolon of the Great Revel	大歓楽の幻霊	だいかんらくのげんれい, daikanraku no genrei	呪文（じゅもん, jumon) 唱える（となえる, tonaeru）
Lava Spike	溶岩の撃ち込み	ようがんのうちこみ , yougan no uchikomi
Lightning Bolt	稲妻	いなずま, inazuma
Boros Charm	ボロスの魔除け	ボロスのまよけ, borosu no mayoke	破壊不能（はかいふのう, hakaifunou）,二段攻撃（にだんこうげき, nidankougeki)
Lightning Helix	稲妻のらせん（螺旋)	いなずまのらせん, Inazuma no rasen
Skullcrack	頭蓋割り	ずがいわり, zugaiwari
Searing Blaze	焼尽の猛火	しょうじんのもうか, Shoujin no mouka	上陸（じょうりく, jouriju)
Rift Bolt	裂け目の稲妻	さけめのいなずま, sakame no inazuma	待機（たいき, taiki)
Skewer the Critics	批判家刺殺	ひはんかしさつ, hihanka shisatsu	絢爛（けんらん, kenran)
Inspiring Vantage	感動的な眺望所	かんどうてきなちょうぼうじょ, kandouteki na chouboujo
Sacred Foundry	聖なる鋳造所	せいなるちゅうぞうしょ, sei naru chuuzousho
Fiery Islet	焦熱島嶼域	しょうねつとうしょいき, shounetsutoushiiki	生け贄に捧げる（いけにえにささげる, ikinienisasageru)
Sunbaked Canyon	灼陽大峡谷	しゃくようだいきょうこく, shakuyoudaikyoukoku	生け贄に捧げる（いけにえにささげる, ikinie ni sasageru)
Path to Exile	流刑への道	るけいへのみち, rukei he no michi	追放（ついほう, tsuihou)
Wear+Tear	摩耗+損耗	まもう, mamou・そんもう, sonmou
Rest in Peace	安らかなる眠り	やすらかなるねむり, yasuraka naru nemuri
Searing Blood	灼熱の血	しゃくねつのち, shakunetsu no chi
Smash to Smithereens	粉々	こなごな, konagona
Deflecting Palm	跳ね返す掌	はねかえすてのひら, hanekaesu tenohira
Pyroclasm	紅蓮地獄	ぐれんじごく, guren jigoku

Predicting interactions

I did my best to anticipate and study for common questions my opponents might have. For Prowess, this meant being ready to explain exactly how many triggers were on the stack and what the final damage count would be. That level of preparation was the foundation that enabled me to step into any store with confidence.

Playing in Japanese: From scripts to spontaneity

Preparation is essential, but language is ultimately a social exchange. I knew the next step was to move beyond my study notes and put my Japanese to work in a live, high-pressure environment.

To achieve this, I adopted two main strategies.

The weekly routine

I make it a habit to attend at least one event every week, transforming my local game store into my regularly-scheduled language lab.

Consistency has been my most powerful tool. By showing up every week, I transform new words from short-term memories into reflexes.

At an event, you don’t have five minutes to compose a perfect sentence; you have to respond to a spell on the stack or a phase change in seconds, and you have to do it over and over again. This repetition has turned my scripted phrases into second nature.

I’m also not just reciting words I have memorized. I’ve been learning the rhythm of Japanese conversation—the pauses, the acknowledgments, and the non-verbal cues that make communication feel natural rather than robotic.

The active input-output loop

During these events, I practice what I call the “Active Observation Loop.” While strategizing for my own plays, I am also “shadowing” my opponents. I pay close attention to how native speakers announce their actions:

How did they talk about the next phase in their turn?
What shorthand did they use for common interactions?
How did they politely ask for a response?

＾If an opponent uses a phrase that sounds more natural than the one I had scripted, I will mentally “code” it into my own vocabulary and try to use it in the very next round. This turns every match into a feedback loop: I input native phrasing from my opponent, and immediately output it in my own gameplay.

The results: From the playmat to the professional world

There is a unique sense of accomplishment that comes from navigating a high-stakes turn—stacking prowess triggers, calculating damage, and responding to removal—while maintaining a smooth, respectful conversation in Japanese. It was in these moments, under the pressure of the tournament clock, that I realized I was no longer just “using” my N2: I was inhabiting it.

The impact of my “Magic: The Gathering Method” eventually spilled over into every other aspect of my life in Tokyo. What started as a way to bridge the gap between my N2 certification and real-world fluency became the foundation for my professional confidence.

Proof of concept

The most immediate results were visible at the game table. By committing to the language, I moved past the initial anxiety that many international residents face when walking into a local event. I gained the ability to communicate my plays clearly, handle rules disputes without hesitation, and enjoy the social side of the game as a participant.

For example, when I started playing, after every match I would thank my opponent and then leave the table right away. I feared that if I stayed for too long, they’d start asking questions I might not understand.

But the more I played, the more confident I became in speaking to my opponents before, during and after matches. Just last Sunday my opponent asked me about where I was from, how I had studied Japanese, and even my opinions on certain cards—and I had no trouble answering him at all.

The peak of this journey was placing first in an event at Hareruya Kichijoji. While the win itself was a personal achievement, the real validation I experienced was seeing the results published in Japanese on their official X (formerly Twitter) account.

It served as “proof of concept” for my method—tangible evidence that my strategy for applying the language was working in a competitive, native environment.

Professional dividends

The most significant results came from how naturally these skills translated to my work as a Project Manager. I realized that the mental muscles I used to explain a Mono-Red Prowess stack are the same ones required to manage a project’s lifecycle and facilitate alignment between teams.

Before I started playing regularly, I was tasked with delivering a monthly report to a room of Japanese stakeholders. While my boss mentioned that speaking in English was fine, I insisted on doing it entirely in Japanese to match the rest of the room. This was my first experience reporting in a native-speed environment, so I was incredibly nervous. The language barrier was a background process constantly draining my mental bandwidth.

After a few months of consistent tournament play, however, I found myself actually welcoming that meeting. The high-pressure environment of a weekly Magic tournament—where a miscommunication could cost a game—had effectively “over-trained” my reflexes. I could now apply that same poise at work, using Japanese as confidently as if I were speaking in English.

From “arcane” to professional

One interesting aspect of this journey was learning to differentiate between the game’s fantasy vocabulary and professional speech. While I spent hours mastering terms like “Trigger” (誘発, yuuhatsu) or “Exile” (追放, tsuihou), I treated these as domain-specific jargon—the same way a developer differentiates between two programming languages.

The real value wasn’t in the fantasy-specific nouns, but in the logical structures I learned. Explaining a complex card interaction uses the same “if/then” conditional grammar and causal connectors (〜によって, ni yotte and 〜ため, tame) that I use to explain a project bottleneck. I focused on the syntax of explanation:

The game version: Using specific nouns like “Sacrifice” or “Resolve” to navigate a game state.
The professional version: Applying those same connectors to link complex ideas and pivot when an unexpected technical question is thrown my way.

Whether I am facilitating a meeting, reporting project statuses to clients, or acting as the bridge between local engineers and offshore teams, I no longer worry about “getting the language right.” By using the card table to master the mechanics of Japanese, I freed up my brain to focus on the actual content of my projects.

Find your own proof of concept

Through Magic, I didn’t just practice Japanese, but learned how to function in it. This shift in perspective—from viewing the language as a subject to be studied, to a tool to be used—is, I believe, the final step for anyone hoping to truly make Japan their home.

My advice to anyone living in Japan and hoping to move beyond their current language level is simple: Find a hobby that forces you to use your Japanese regularly and authentically.

Though I used Magic: The Gathering, the same logic applies to any passion, whether it’s bouldering, photography, or joining a local sports team. The goal is to find a community where Japanese is the “operating system” for something you already love.

Moving to Tokyo and engaging with the local scene didn’t just help me “earn” my N2, but gave me the confidence to build a career and a life here. If you commit to a hobby that pushes your boundaries, you might find that the fluency you’ve been chasing in textbooks has been waiting for you at the table all along.

TokyoDev

Beyond Japan’s Big Cities: Life as a Software Engineer in Kumamoto

Why I chose life outside the big city

Lower rent

1K apartment comparison

2LDK apartment comparison

A quieter, less hectic daily experience

Easier access to nature

The downsides of living outside a big city

Fewer job opportunities if you want to change companies

Less convenience

Fewer international communities

Fewer opportunities to build relationships in person

Is it worth it?

Is Japanese Citizenship Right for You?

Why choose to become a Japanese citizen?

Naturalization vs permanent residency

The new timeline for naturalization

Naturalization protects your relationship with Japan

A decade of roots

The right to permanently call Japan home

Is naturalization right for you?

Where are you from?

Where are you going?

Where do you plan to retire?

What about family?

The naturalization process

A DIY project

A one to two year timeline

The anxiety is real

The process itself? Easier than expected

Choosing a name for yourself

Final advice: start now, because it’s worth it

What Is a Bridge Engineer in Japan?

How my background led to the role

A good way to enter the industry

The importance of cultural flexibility

The real meaning behind the words

Misaligned expectations

Core responsibilities

Communication in real time

Requirement translation

Coordination and management

A typical day at my job

Common challenges

Time zone differences

Cultural differences

Meeting pressure

Closing

My Deaf Experience in Japan

I am deaf, not Deaf

How did I make it to Japan?

Short answer

Long answer

My cochlear implant: not perfect, but it helps

Living and working in Japan while deaf

Communicating

Phone calls and their alternatives

In person

Accommodations in the workplace

Online meetings

In-person meetings

Social life

Finances

Advocating for yourself

Choosing a silent daily life for myself

At home

Outside the house

Weather concerns

Conclusion

One Decade of Experience, Zero Offers in Japan—Until I Could Move

Application statistics

Why I was a “bad candidate”

Right candidate, wrong country

Making myself more hirable

I reorganized my CV, profile, and portfolio around Japan

I reframed my job history for Japanese hiring managers

I networked on LinkedIn

I studied for the JLPT N4

And, I got married