Jenny asked if I would be interested in hosting a middle-school student from Japan for a week. Within minutes, I replied to her text somewhat indifferently, “Yeah, that’s fine.” While the idea seemed intriguing, I couldn't help but think about the responsibility of entertaining a young guest for an entire week. My little introverted heart was secretly filled with trepidation. Little did I know, hosting Haruma would become one of the best decisions we ever made.
For thirty years, my hometown of Columbus, Indiana, has maintained a sister-city relationship with Miyoshi, Japan. What began as an educational and business exchange between similarly sized cities near larger metro areas has, over the decades, brought city leaders, business executives, educators, and students together from across the globe. In the summer of 2024, Haruma and twenty students and educators traveled to Columbus.
I met him for the first time when I got home from work. He and Will had already become fast friends within hours of meeting. With a big smile, Haruma greeted me with a bow, which I returned, followed by a handshake. The boys, however, quickly took off to do what boys do. They rode scooters up and down the street, glided effortlessly on RipStiks across the patio, played endless basketball games in the driveway, and indulged in video games until jet lag caught up with him. And, of course, they devoured snacks. Haruma even asked to go to Target to buy a bunch of American snacks to take home—especially Pop-Tarts.
The most meaningful moments with Haruma happened around the table. Whether we were at ZwanzigZ Pizza, Skyline Chili, or enjoying a traditional Japanese meal that he prepared for us, Haruma shared stories about his family, his life in Japan, and his community. He was equally eager to learn about us and our lives in the U.S. One thing he quickly discovered was that Jenny couldn’t use chopsticks. Haruma patiently spent several minutes showing her the proper technique. When it became clear she wasn’t going to master it, he reassured her, saying that sometimes people in Japan use a fork. Whether that was true or just his way of letting her off the hook, it was hilarious.
On our final day, Jenny asked Haruma where he wanted to have his last meal with us. Without hesitation, he exclaimed, “Texas Roadhouse!” So, that’s where we went—and I have never seen a kid his size eat so much. It was something to behold. Afterward, we walked to the hotel to meet his group. We took a few final pictures, hugged and said goodbye to Haruma, and started walking to the car. I glanced at Jenny and saw tears in her eyes. I looked at Will and noticed the same. Then, I quietly wiped my own eyes and drove away.
It’s incredible to think that just a week earlier, we hadn’t known Haruma even existed—someone living on the other side of the world. Yet, in just a few short days, through shared experiences, laughter, and conversation, we formed a bond that felt like it had always been there. Despite the physical distance between our homes, we grew surprisingly close. Hosting Haruma taught me an important lesson- that meaningful friendships often begin with our willingness to take a chance on something new. What started as an initial, “Yeah, that’s fine,” became one of the most rewarding decisions I’ve ever made.
Question
When was the last time I took a chance on something unfamiliar, and what connections or experiences might I be missing by holding back?
Peace,
Brandon