A Journey to the Land of the Rising Sun

Japan Journey: From Masjids to Matcha

Japan Trip

18 to 26 September 2024

A Journey to the Land of the Rising Sun

Japan’s global footprint is nothing short of remarkable. One would be hard-pressed to find anyone who hasn’t encountered Japanese innovation in their daily lives—be it through the precision engineering of Acura, Honda, Mitsubishi, Lexus, Nissan, Suzuki, Toyota, or Yamaha automobiles; the reliability of Bridgestone, Toyo, or Yokohama tyres; the timekeeping excellence of Casio, Citizen or Seiko timepieces; the photographic brilliance of Canon, Fujifilm, Konika, Nikon, Olympus, Pentax, and Ricoh; the revolutionary gaming world of Nintendo and Sega; or the technological mastery of Brother, Epson, Fujitsu, Hitachi, JVC, Kyocera, Minolta, Omron, Panasonic, Sanyo, Sharpe, Sony, and Toshiba. From Uniqlo’s minimalist fashion to Issey Miyake’s avant-garde designs and Asics’ sportswear, Japanese influence permeates every aspect of modern life.

Despite this ubiquitous presence, Japan had remained an enigma to me. Through countless conversations with previous visitors, I’d gathered tales of the Japanese people’s gracious character, their meticulous attention to detail, and their dedicated work ethic. Yet these second-hand accounts only intensified my desire to experience this unique culture firsthand. Unlike the Western world’s relative homogeneity or the familiar territories of India and Pakistan (where my roots lie), Japan promised something entirely different—a cultural tapestry woven with threads entirely distinct from my own experiences.

The opportunity to unlock this mysterious realm arrived through an unexpected channel. Brother Muhammad Faik extended an invitation to participate in the Japan Islamic Trust’s 19th Annual Muslim Family Retreat in September. The retreat’s noble purpose—to preserve Islamic identity among the younger generation in Japan, particularly children of mixed Japanese-Muslim marriages—resonated deeply with me.

The invitation came with a special request: would my wife consider joining? The organisers emphasised the rarity of foreign scholars visiting Japan, particularly female Islamic scholars, and the potential impact her presence could have on the sisters’ community. After careful consideration, we both committed to this meaningful endeavour.

As we planned our journey, Air China emerged as the most practical choice, offering competitive prices and convenient flight schedules. The prospect of a brief sojourn in Beijing during our return journey added an enticing dimension to our travel plans—China, another nation that had long captured my imagination, could now be explored, albeit briefly.

To make this journey even more special, I extended invitations to my newly retired father and my brother, Mawlānā Shoeb, to join our eastern expedition. The stage was set for what promised to be an extraordinary family adventure into the heart of Japanese culture.

 

London to Beijing

Wednesday 18th September 2024

As we boarded our Air China flight at 22:05 from London Heathrow, uncertainty lingered about what to expect from an airline that was new to us. However, those concerns would soon be pleasantly dispelled.

The A350 aircraft proved to be a comfortable vessel for our 9.5-hour journey eastward. Air China’s attention to passenger comfort was evident in their meal service—a welcome departure from the minimal offerings of some carriers. Rather than the typical mid-flight sandwich or pie, we were treated to two full meals, with the Asian vegetarian option exceeding our expectations.

The aircraft’s facilities offered some surprising innovations. The lavatories featured automatic sensor-operated waste flaps—a first in my flying experience. This touchless technology stood in marked contrast to the manual systems common on most airlines, or even the foot-pedal mechanisms found on Singapore Airlines and Saudi carriers.

Cultural differences became apparent in several small but notable ways. The cabin crew’s limited English proficiency occasionally led to communication challenges. More striking was the absence of black tea—a staple for British travellers—with only coffee and jasmine green tea available. This, as I would later discover, reflected a deeper cultural preference: in Chinese culture, black tea is considered inferior to its green counterpart and is primarily produced for export markets. This tea hierarchy would persist throughout our time in both Japan and China.

The airline’s complimentary WiFi service was restricted to accessing their entertainment system via mobile devices rather than general internet connectivity. Unfortunately, even this feature proved elusive during our flight, refusing to work despite several attempts.

Alḥamdulillāh, the overnight timing of our flight proved beneficial. Sleep came easily, making the journey feel considerably shorter than its actual duration. As we soared through the dark skies towards Beijing, I couldn’t help but feel that our Asian adventure had truly begun.

Thursday, 19th September 2024

Beijing Transit

Our journey through Beijing Capital International Airport—one of the world’s largest aviation hubs—proved to be somewhat tedious, particularly due to the extensive security protocols for transit passengers. It was rather inconvenient to undergo comprehensive security checks during our layover, despite already having cleared security in London.

The airport did showcase some innovative technology, notably their footwear scanning system where passengers could have their shoes x-rayed while wearing them by simply standing on a small pedestal. However, this was part of an extensive screening process that felt excessive for transit passengers.

With a two-hour transit window, we made our way to the airport lounge to perform our prayers. Having completed Fajr during the flight, Zuhr prayer was now due. Here, we reunited with my father and brother, who had arrived on an earlier flight. An interesting observation was the numerous food items labelled “no pork, no lard”—a clear indication of the lounge’s consideration for its Muslim clientele.

Despite China’s notorious internet restrictions, my UK Lebara SIM card proved invaluable, allowing access to typically blocked services like WhatsApp and Google Maps through its international roaming package. This connectivity would prove essential throughout our time in both China, and a few months later in India.

Our connecting flight to Tokyo’s Haneda Airport was aboard an older A320, though the relatively short three-hour duration made this less of a concern. Air China’s Beijing route offered one of the most economical options for reaching Japan from London. While more direct alternatives existed—such as non-stop flights on British Airways and Japan Airlines, or routes via Seoul—these commanded significantly higher fares, making the Air China option via Beijing the most cost-effective choice for a relatively direct route.

We touched down in Tokyo just as Thursday was drawing to a close, having essentially “lost” a day in transit—departing Wednesday night and arriving Thursday night. However, as I reflected, this temporal shift was merely relative; theologically speaking, our predetermined life spans remain unchanged, as Allāh states in the Qur’an:

وَلِكُلِّ أُمَّةٍ أَجَلٌ فَإِذَا جَاءَ أَجَلُهُمْ لَا يَسْتَأْخِرُونَ سَاعَةً وَلَا يَسْتَقْدِمُونَ”And for every nation is a [specified] term. So when their time has come, they will not remain behind an hour, nor will they precede [it]” (A‘rāf, 7:34)

Arrival in Tokyo

Brother Faik, accompanied by his wife and daughter, welcomed us at the airport. Our drive to the Bell Classic Hotel in Otsuka took about 30 minutes—surprisingly swift given the late hour, with notably light traffic despite being before midnight. Haneda’s location in Tokyo’s far southeastern reaches meant traversing a portion of this horizontally expansive city, which spans approximately 56 miles (96 km) east to west. The hotel, situated just minutes from Otsuka Masjid in Central Tokyo, offered generously sized rooms—apparently a rarity in Japan, where space comes at a premium. This would be our first taste of Japan’s compact scaling, standing in stark contrast to London’s spaciousness and North America’s expansive proportions.

Friday 20 September

A Japanese Breakfast Experience

Our first morning in Japan began with an interesting breakfast arrangement at the hotel. Each guest was provided with a large rectangular plate divided into sections, from which we could select small portions from the various dishes on display. The buffet wasn’t overwhelming with excessive quantities; instead, it offered just enough for everyone to eat and feel satisfied—perhaps reflecting why most people in Japan maintain healthy weights and enjoy long lives.

A telling moment of cultural difference arose when my father requested butter. The staff brought out what seemed a tiny serving—merely two pea-sized portions. When he asked for more, they brought the same minimal amount again, clearly demonstrating their different perspective on portion sizes.

Our halal dietary requirements considerably restricted our breakfast choices, as pork and lard were common ingredients in many dishes. We made do with scrambled eggs, a piece of grilled fish, salad, and fruit. The beverage selection was particularly interesting, featuring an array of teas—mostly green and other varieties—with just one black Ceylon Dimbula tea option. For juices, only orange and tomato were available, with tomato juice being surprisingly popular in Japan. Most beverages were unsweetened, including various teas like roasted green tea, barley water, and ice milk tea, and there was a notable scarcity of sweet dishes.

Visit to the Islamic School

Following breakfast, we walked to the Islamic school operated by the Japan Islamic Trust, located near the masjid. I had the opportunity to speak with the students about how Allāh creates each person with unique qualities and weaknesses. I explained that our mission in life is to discover our capabilities and use them to benefit others while recognizing and managing our weaknesses.

When I asked the boys to identify their own strengths and weaknesses, their initial hesitation was noticeable. The teacher explained that Japanese people typically aren’t very expressive, but with some encouragement, we eventually achieved meaningful interaction. The school employs an international faculty of Pakistani, Egyptian, Palestinian, and Syrian teachers who conduct lessons in English, though Japanese language studies are also part of the curriculum.

Tokyo’s Urban Landscape: A Study in Efficiency

Property in central Tokyo commands premium prices, making it particularly remarkable that the Japan Islamic Trust owns both the masjid and school buildings outright—a testament to Allāh’s blessing. The urban layout here presents a striking contrast to Western cities, with notably narrow streets threading through the neighbourhoods. Despite Japan’s status as a global automotive powerhouse, the streets are surprisingly free of vehicles, thanks to strict parking regulations and an extraordinarily efficient public transport system.

The Tokyo subway map is a marvel of urban planning, making London’s Underground system appear modest in comparison. With approximately triple the number of stations, it efficiently serves more than thirty million commuters daily, eliminating the need for personal vehicles. When cars do appear on Tokyo’s streets, they reflect a distinctly Japanese aesthetic—the local versions of Hondas, Nissans, Toyotas, and Suzukis feature more compact, boxy designs than their international counterparts.

What truly sets Tokyo apart is its immaculate cleanliness. The absence of litter bins on the streets might seem counterintuitive to Western sensibilities, yet the streets remain spotless—a reflection of the Japanese culture of personal responsibility, where citizens simply carry their rubbish home for disposal.

I was reminded of Mufti Tariq Masood’s recent vlogs about Japan, where he expressed amazement at the country’s cleanliness, organisation, and safety. His perspective, coming from Pakistan, was understandable, yet even when measured against the relatively well-maintained standards of the United Kingdom, Japan’s systematic approach to urban order stands apart. This observation reinforces a fundamental truth: safety, cleanliness, and order form the bedrock of any prosperous society.

One cannot help but reflect on the profound Islamic teachings about safety when observing Japan’s secure environment. As Allāh states in the Qur’an:

وَإِذْ قَالَ إِبْرَاهِيمُ رَبِّ اجْعَلْ هَٰذَا الْبَلَدَ آمِنًا “And [remember]

when Ibrahim said, ‘Make this city [Makkah] secure.’“ This supplication of Prophet Ibrahim (Allāh be please with him) emphasizes the fundamental importance of safety to human civilization and prosperity. When Allāh describes Makkah, the recurring description of it as a sanctuary (haram amin) underscores how safety and security are divine blessings that transform a place into a truly liveable and blessed environment.

For any nation to advance both in worldly and spiritual matters, safety is paramount. Equally essential is cleanliness, as emphasized in the prophetic tradition:

“Purity is half of faith” (Sahih Muslim).

These two qualities—safety and cleanliness—form the cornerstone of societal progress, something clearly evident in Japanese society.

As we returned to the hotel to prepare for Jumu‘a prayer, which was scheduled to begin at 11:50 am, we experienced countless instances of Japanese courtesy. Every encounter with hotel staff and store employees was marked by a distinct ceremonial greeting. They would slightly bow while saying “arigatou gozaimasu” (ありがとうございます), which translates to “thank you very much” in its most polite form. The phrase combines “arigatou” (thank you) with the honorific “gozaimasu,” creating one of the most formal and respectful ways to express gratitude in Japanese. What particularly caught our attention was how they would stretch and emphasise the final syllable “mas,” turning it into an almost musical expression of appreciation. This verbal courtesy was invariably accompanied by a slight bow, demonstrating the harmonious blend of verbal and physical expressions of respect that is so characteristic of Japanese culture.

The Otsuka Masjid: A Vertical Sanctuary

Like many buildings in Tokyo’s dense urban landscape, the masjid is a narrow structure squeezed between towering buildings, its modest exterior belying its internal capacity. The building’s vertical arrangement is typical of Tokyo’s space-conscious architecture: the women’s prayer area occupies the ground floor, with the main men’s prayer hall on the first floor, and additional prayer space above. Each level accommodates approximately 50 to 60 worshippers—modest by global standards but significant in the context of Tokyo’s Muslim community.

During the Jumu‘a khuṭba, I addressed the congregation on the theme of worldly capability (qābiliyya) and divine acceptance (qubūliyya). Standing to deliver the bayan—a method I find more effective in conveying passion and energy—I noticed the message resonating with the largely English-speaking congregation. After prayers, our conversations with worshippers revealed the diverse ethnic tapestry of Tokyo’s Muslim community.

Meeting with the Japan Islamic Trust

Our post-prayer meeting with the Japan Islamic Trust board offered fascinating insights into the development of Islam in Japan. The board’s composition reflects a remarkable diversity, including an 82-year-old Japanese convert, a Sudanese gentleman, and several Pakistani members. Haroon serves as board president, and his tireless dedication to Islamic work has made him something of an unofficial ambassador for Islam in Japan.

Among the trustees, Ghalib Husain’s story particularly stood out. As a pioneer in Japan’s halal food industry, he shared his early experiences of arriving in Japan and enduring months without meat due to halal restrictions. His joy at finally being able to slaughter and eat his first chicken in Japan was palpable in his telling. This personal challenge led him to establish himself as a prominent halal food importer, addressing a crucial need in Japan’s Muslim community. He also recounted the establishment of the first tarawih prayers in Tokyo, marking a significant milestone in the community’s development. His contributions to making Islamic life more accessible in Japan deserve recognition and prayers for Allāh’s continued blessings.

Japan Islamic Trust (JIT): Historical Evolution of Islam in Japan

Brother Haroon’s comprehensive presentation detailed the fascinating journey of Islam in Japan. The faith’s architectural presence began with the Kobe Mosque in 1935, established through Indian merchants’ efforts after World War I. This was followed by the Nagoya Masjid in 1936 (later destroyed by fire in 1945 due to war damage) and the Tokyo Mosque in 1938, which underwent reconstruction in 2000. The transformation has been remarkable—from just one or two masjids about 30 years ago to today’s extensive network of prayer spaces.

Currently, Islam stands as Japan’s fastest-growing religion, with over 300,000 Muslims. This growth presents an interesting contrast to Christianity, which, despite having approximately 33,000 churches, faces significant decline. The Muslim population comprises Japanese Muslims (estimated 50,000-100,000) and foreign Muslims (around 280,000). This community is now served by 190 masjids and muṣallās throughout Japan, with 22 in Tokyo alone.

The early years of Muslim immigration were challenging, largely due to negative Western media portrayals. However, the 2011 tsunami marked a crucial turning point in Japanese attitudes toward Muslims. JIT’s humanitarian response, documented and shared by a university professor, helped reshape public perception and counter negative stereotypes.

Japan Islamic Trust manages several major mosques including Otsuka Masjid, Ashikaga Masjid, Hitachi Masjid, Tottori Masjid, Shibuya Masjid, and Nishi Kasai Masjid. Their work encompasses multiple vital areas: The educational initiative became crucial after surveys revealed that over 90% of second-generation half-Japanese Muslims risked losing their Muslim identity by their undergraduate years. In response, they established the International Islamia School Otsuka (IISO) in 2004, starting with a kindergarten. The school expanded to include primary education (2017) and junior high school (2022), now serving 150 students from 14 different nationalities, including children from Bangladesh, Egypt, India, Indonesia, Japan, Malaysia, and other countries. A senior high school is planned for 2025.

JIT’s humanitarian work has been exemplary, particularly during the Great East Japan 3.11 earthquake and tsunami in 2011. They began their support immediately after the disaster, providing hot food more than 100 times to affected communities. Their response to the Okayama floods in 2018 was equally prompt. Their ongoing community service includes a monthly soup kitchen serving 500-600 homeless people and an active food bank program in collaboration with Keio University.

The organization actively builds cultural bridges between Islamic and Japanese society through regular activities with Japanese university students, collaborating with prestigious institutions including Tokyo University, Waseda University, Toyo University, and others. Their annual Tarbiya Camps, three-day residential programs, which I attended, attract around 250 participants.

Since 1997, JIT has operated as a respected halal certification body. They also maintain the Yawara Muslim Graveyard and provide various community support services. Their efforts have received recognition from both Japanese and international authorities, including a 2020 award from the Toshima City Mayor and a 2024 honour from Qatar’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Understanding Japanese Society: A Complex Tapestry

The Japanese culture presents itself as remarkably insular and self-contained. Even long-term Muslim residents, including those married to Japanese spouses, confided that they still struggled to fully comprehend the cultural intricacies of their adopted home. Japan’s society exhibits a meticulously curated nature—every aspect appears carefully considered for aesthetic appeal, cleanliness, efficiency and functionality. This manicured approach extends beyond the physical landscape into the very fabric of their culture. Yet, as with any society, perfection remains elusive. Beneath this carefully ordered exterior lies considerable social pressure, with many individuals struggling under the weight of cultural rigidity and societal expectations.

The Demographic Challenge

Perhaps Japan’s most pressing crisis lies in its demographics. The nation holds the distinction of having the world’s highest proportion of elderly citizens, with nearly 30% of its population aged 65 or older as of 2022. The birth rate has witnessed a troubling seven-year decline, reaching a record low of 1.26 births per woman. The stark reality of this crisis became evident in 2022, when only 770,747 births were recorded against 1.57 million deaths—resulting in a staggering population decrease of nearly 800,000 people.

This demographic imbalance poses profound implications for Japanese society. A diminishing workforce must shoulder the responsibility of supporting an expanding elderly population, placing unprecedented strain on pension and healthcare systems. Despite the government’s substantial interventions—including an annual investment of 3.5 trillion yen in childcare support and various financial incentives for childbirth and child-rearing—the situation continues to deteriorate. Cultural and economic factors, including high living costs, demanding work culture, and traditional gender roles, have undermined these initiatives’ effectiveness. Projections suggest that by 2060, the working-age population will constitute less than 50% of the total population.

Work Culture and Social Values

The presence of foreign workers, particularly from Indonesia, has become increasingly common in Japan’s workforce. The Japanese are renowned for their legendary punctuality—perhaps best exemplified by their railway system, where delays of even seconds are exceedingly rare.

The Japanese approach to work reveals a fascinating cultural distinction. While they could be described as workaholics, their dedication appears driven not primarily by financial gain, but by an intrinsic commitment to excellence and mastery of their craft. This was illustrated by numerous accounts of workers willing to spend an hour and a half on tasks scheduled and compensated for just one hour—a testament to their commitment to quality over mere remuneration.

The Pursuit of Iḥsān

The Japanese cultural emphasis on excellence and perfection resonates deeply with the Islamic concept of iḥsān (beatification), as exemplified in the Prophet’s hadith (Allāh bless him and give him peace):

“Verily Allāh has prescribed excellence (iḥsān) in all things…” (Muslim).

Their society demonstrates exemplary manners and character, yet there exists a profound spiritual void—an absence of connection with a supreme deity. This presents both a challenge and an opportunity: many Japanese people would potentially embrace Islam if they encountered something that surpassed their existing cultural standards. However, the reality is complicated by the fact that many Muslims they encounter are primarily focused on economic opportunities rather than religious representation, sometimes displaying unIslamic behaviour. For the Japanese to consider adopting a new faith, they need to see something demonstrably superior to their own cultural and moral standards.

The phenomenon of Japanese women embracing Islam through marriage presents its own set of challenges. Some of these converts develop a deeper religious commitment than their Muslim husbands, occasionally leading to domestic tensions and, unfortunately, divorce. The aftermath of such separations can be particularly poignant—while some women maintain their Islamic faith, others become alienated from the religion entirely.

Citizenship and Integration

While Japan’s citizenship process is relatively straightforward, their policy of only allowing single citizenship—similar to India—creates a significant barrier. Many potential immigrants hesitate to surrender their original nationality, limiting their full integration into Japanese society.

Shopping Experience at Uniqlo

After our meeting and lunch, followed by a brief rest, we visited Uniqlo, the internationally renowned Japanese retailer. As a first-time visitor to their store, I was impressed by both the quality of their apparel and their pricing—approximately half of what one would pay in the UK. The shopping experience itself exemplified Japanese courtesy: every store entry was met with their characteristic “arigatou gozaimasu,” delivered with that distinctive elongated tone. Their handling of money transactions showed particular cultural refinement—cash was received in small trays, and when returning notes, staff would present them using both hands, demonstrating their deeply ingrained sense of courtesy and respect.

Evening Meal: Navigating Ḥalāl Dining in Japan

Our evening led us to a Bangladeshi-owned halal restaurant. The limited menu selection was actually a welcome feature—fewer choices often make decision-making easier. Given my intimate knowledge of the halal food industry, I tend to be cautious about establishments claiming to be halal. However, our host’s personal recommendation provided reassurance.

We selected dāl (lentils), beef pāyā (trotters) and mince dishes, deliberately avoiding chicken dishes. The chicken situation in Japan is particularly complex, with most halal chicken being imported from Brazil—a source that many halal certification experts regard with some scepticism. As someone comfortable with vegetarian options, this selective approach wasn’t problematic. The meal proved to be quite satisfying, and the owner’s hospitality was noteworthy, including a complimentary mango juice. May Allāh bless him with baraka in his business and grant him pure earnings.

Our dining experience was somewhat marred by the discovery that the establishment also served alcohol. This situation reflects a common challenge in regions with smaller Muslim communities—limited halal options often force Muslims to make difficult choices. In contrast to places like England, where numerous purely halal establishments make it easy to avoid venues serving alcohol, countries like Japan and Thailand present more challenging circumstances. Even finding purely vegetarian options can be difficult, as many dishes contain pork or lard.

This dilemma isn’t unique to Japan. I recalled a similar experience in Scotland, where local hosts took me to a Pakistani restaurant that, despite being the most trusted halal establishment in the area, also served alcohol. A local scholar explained the necessity of such compromises in areas with limited halal options. The Islamic position allows some flexibility when travelling—provided alcohol isn’t served at one’s own table and genuine alternatives are unavailable. Alḥamdulillāh, during our meal, none of the other diners were consuming alcohol.

Evening Talk at Otsuka Masjid: Navigating Cultural Identities

After ‘Ishā’ prayers, I delivered a half-hour talk at the Otsuka Masjid focusing on identity and cultural navigation. The discussion was particularly relevant for the immigrant audience, addressing how to balance one’s ethnic heritage with both Japanese culture and the diverse cultural backgrounds of fellow immigrants. I emphasised that Islam provides the framework for cultural discernment—encouraging us to embrace positive practices from all cultures while discarding negative elements from our own traditions. This approach essentially creates an Islamic culture, as any beneficial practice aligns with Islamic principles. The talk concluded with an engaging question and answer session.

Following the talk, I proceeded to the upper hall to witness a Japanese woman’s conversion to Islam. After she pronounced the shahada, Brother Haroon provided her with introductory Islamic literature. Her journey to Islam appeared well-considered, influenced by her Muslim friend and her upcoming marriage plans in Malaysia.

The Growth of Islam in Japan

Brother Haroon shared remarkable statistics about conversions at the masjid. Shahadas were a near-daily occurrence, with some days seeing multiple conversions. He estimated an average of one conversion daily each month at this masjid alone, with other mosques across Japan reporting similar frequencies. This trend seems to confirm earlier observations about the Japanese people’s spiritual seeking—many finding their sought-after purpose in Islam. The frequency of these conversions reflects the spiritual hunger in Japanese society, where many individuals are actively seeking deeper meaning in their lives, often finding their answers within Islamic teachings.

Saturday 21 September

Journey to the Retreat

Our journey to the retreat near Mount Fuji began later than planned. Brother Faik’s arrival was delayed by the heavy holiday weekend traffic, and we finally departed at 10 am.

The route to Mount Fuji revealed an unexpected aspect of Japanese infrastructure. Despite being a global automotive powerhouse, Japan’s highway system proved surprisingly modest—predominantly two-lane roads with few three-lane sections. This seemed counterintuitive for a nation that supplies vehicles worldwide, yet it reflected Japan’s deliberate emphasis on public transportation, particularly their extensive rail network, over highway development.

The cloudy conditions obscured our view of Mount Fuji, though other mountains were visible throughout our journey. As we entered the Yamanashi region, the urban landscape of Tokyo gave way to lush greenery and fruit orchards, offering a marked contrast to the capital’s concrete expanse.

What should have been a 90-minute journey stretched to three hours due to heavy traffic. The cause became apparent when we finally reached a three-lane section of the highway—an accident had created a substantial backup. This highlighted a common challenge in many countries, where strict protocols for accident clearance often result in extended delays, affecting thousands of travellers.

The extended journey necessitated a rest stop at the Danguzaka service station, where we discovered an impressive bank of approximately twenty vending machines offering various products and drinks. The lavatory facilities, like everywhere else we’d visit in Japan—from our hotel to the masjid—featured integrated water cleaning systems, making istinjā’ remarkably convenient.

The food court housed multiple vendors, and Brother Faik and his wife eventually selected noodles for us. Whilst eating with chopsticks, I discovered what appeared to be a piece of rough skin—which Faik identified as seafood, possibly octopus. I immediately stopped eating. Brother Faik apologised, explaining that following the Shafi’i school (which considers all seafood halal), they had overlooked this detail. I expressed gratitude to Allāh that at least we had consumed something considered halal by three of the four imams of fiqh, rather than something definitively forbidden like non-ritually slaughtered meat or pork.

We finally reached the campsite in weather of around twenty-nine degrees with considerable humidity. The camp’s organisation demonstrated careful attention to segregation—the women proceeded to their designated area whilst we were directed to the men’s section. Our lodge, reserved for speakers, could accommodate about seven people. Among the scholars present were two from Egypt—Dr Adel Hendy and Dr Hisham Atwa—and Sheikh Muhammad Ismail, also originally Egyptian, who serves as imam at Sapporo Masjid in northern Japan. Two Saudi scholars had been unable to attend.

The lodge featured traditional tatami mat flooring, with Japanese futons, blankets, and pillows stored in wall cupboards. The bathroom facilities continued the Japanese standard of integrated bidet systems, with multiple buttons labelled in Japanese controlling various functions: different spray types, flushing, seat warming, and even water sound effects. While the system proved excellent for posterior cleaning, anterior cleaning required some manoeuvring. Nevertheless, it was far superior to facilities without water.

The retreat attracted both families and single attendees. The segregation arrangements exceeded my expectations—rather than the typical family camp approach of keeping families together, they implemented complete separation with distinct women’s and men’s areas. This arrangement not only maintained proper Islamic guidelines but also fostered community bonding, allowing attendees to form new friendships and strengthen the Muslim community’s unity through interaction with fellow believers beyond their immediate family circles.

It was finally time to deliver my session, the main programme of the evening. While the children attended their own concurrent activities, I gave my talk, which was translated into Japanese by an Egyptian sister for those who didn’t understand English. A lively question and answer session followed.

After the programme, Brother Faik suggested exploring the surrounding area during our free time. He took us to Yurari Hot Springs, a Japanese onsen (hot spa) fed by natural springs. Considering Japanese bathing customs—where public bathing is traditionally done naked and seen as perfectly normal—he had thoughtfully arranged a private room for us. My father, brother and I spent about an hour in the spa. Despite the darkness, I could make out Mount Fuji’s silhouette through the window. The experience was particularly pleasant with hot water continuously flowing through the spa whilst a cool breeze drifted in from the window.

The Japanese have a tradition of taking a nightly family bath together, typically without clothing—a practice deeply embedded in their culture. We chose to avoid the public areas of the facility where people would be unclothed, even though these areas are segregated by gender. Feeling refreshed after our soak, we purchased some drinks from the vending machines for rehydration before heading back to camp.

With consideration for my father’s comfort, Brother Faik had arranged a separate room in a nearby lodge. After dropping off my father and brother, I decided to return to the camp despite there being space for me in the lodge. The lodge rooms mirrored those at the camp, featuring tatami mats with futons and blankets stored in the cupboards.

Sunday 22 September

I had to lead the Fajr prayer, after which I led everyone in the sunna morning awrad (litany). The camp operations relied entirely on volunteers, with dedicated brothers taking charge of breakfast preparation.

After breakfast, we had the privilege of meeting one of Japan’s most senior Islamic scholars, Mawlānā Saleemur Rahman, a graduate of Nadwat al-‘Ulamā’, Lucknow, India, who had also studied in Madina Munawara under Mufti ‘Abd al-‘Azīz Bin Bāz too. He shared fascinating accounts of his early days in Japan, particularly regarding the challenges of moon sighting for determining Ramadan and Eid dates. As head of Japan’s moon sighting committee, he explained their unique organisational approach—a coalition of various masjids operating without formal offices or bank accounts. This deliberate simplicity helps avoid power struggles and excessive bureaucracy. Their practice of rotating meeting locations between different masjids ensures all communities feel included in the decision-making process.

Shaykh Nimatullah

He then shared with us the remarkable story of the late Shaykh Nimatullah, a Turkish scholar who had taught in Madina Munawwara before being invited to Japan by a Pakistani scholar. This devoted man would conduct da’wa throughout Japan and Korea, every single day. Though he was a ṣūfī scholar, he carried a recommendation from Muftī Bin Bāz. His early days were so challenging that he even resorted to eating grass to survive, the shaykh explained.

Shaykh Nimatullah’s approach to da‘wa was distinctive. He would begin conversations with Japanese people by expressing his genuine love for them: “Japanese people are very good” and “I love the Japanese.” This would open the door to discussing Islam’s beauty. He emphasised practical virtues—avoiding profanity, maintaining cleanliness, and keeping promises. His dedication to spreading Islam’s message manifested in unique ways. He would choose manned toll booths over automated ones, paying extra for the chance to share Islam with the attendants. He carried hundreds of cards explaining Islam, featuring the declaration of faith—Lā ilāha illallāh—in multiple languages. Even while driving, he kept his window down regardless of weather, hoping to encourage people in neighbouring cars at traffic lights to pronounce the word “Allāh.” He believed deeply that this sacred word carried a special light that could illuminate the path to faith.

Shiraito Falls

After our morning activities, we took advantage of the free time before the next programme to visit the Shiraito Falls (白糸の滝, Shiraito no Taki), whose name translates to “White Thread Falls.” This name held particular significance for me, given our own White Thread Press publishing company and White Thread Institute. The connection felt meaningful and almost providential.

The Shiraito Falls are one of Japan’s most unique waterfalls, designated as a National Monument and part of Fuji-Hakone-Izu National Park. The falls are fed by Mount Fuji’s spring water and consist of multiple streams of water that flow down like thin white threads—hence the poetic name. The falls span about 150 metres (492 feet) in width, with the water dropping about 20 metres (66 feet). What makes these falls distinctive is their appearance: hundreds of small streams cascade down the volcanic rock face, creating the impression of hanging white threads.

We made our way down to view the falls, which were particularly impressive due to recent rainfall. The increased water volume enhanced the natural spectacle, though the falls are known for maintaining a consistent flow throughout the year due to their spring-fed nature.

Old Japanese Village

After Shiraito Falls, we visited Iyashi no Sato Nenba (いやしの里根場), a traditional Japanese village that has been reconstructed as an open-air museum after being destroyed by a landslide in 1966. This historic village showcases how people lived in the Edo and Meiji periods, with perfectly preserved examples of traditional thatched-roof houses (called gassho-zukuri) and authentic architectural techniques. What particularly caught my attention was the sophisticated Japanese woodworking joinery known as “tsugite” and “shiguchi”—a system that connects wooden beams without nails, using intricate grooves and joints that actually become stronger over time.

From the village, we were treated to our first clear view of Mount Fuji (富士山, Fujisan). At 3,776 metres (12,388 feet), it stands as Japan’s highest mountain, but its magnificence lies not just in its height. The mountain presents a uniquely symmetrical volcanic cone, with gracefully sloping sides that extend widely rather than rising sharply. Unlike many jagged alpine peaks, Fuji’s gentle gradients are covered in various shades of vegetation, creating a welcoming rather than forbidding presence. True to its reputation, the summit wore its characteristic “tsurushi-gumo” (hanging cloud), while the sides had cleared to reveal its full majesty.

After returning for Zuhr prayer and a Turkish lunch, we ventured out to Lake Kawaguchiko (河口湖), one of the Fuji Five Lakes (富士五湖, Fujigoko). At 800 metres above sea level, it’s the most accessible of the lakes and a popular tourist destination. We took the Mount Fuji Panoramic Ropeway (Kachi Kachi Ropeway), which ascends 400 metres to an observation deck on Mount Tenjo. From this vantage point, we enjoyed spectacular panoramic views of both the lake and Mount Fuji. The recent rain had cleared the humidity, offering exceptional visibility across the landscape.

Lake Kawaguchiko is the second largest of the Fuji Five Lakes, which were formed by previous Mount Fuji eruptions. Each lake has its own distinct character, with Kawaguchiko being particularly famous for its cultural attractions and unobstructed views of Mount Fuji. The lake spans 6 kilometres in length and reaches depths of up to 15 metres, its shores dotted with hot springs, museums, and traditional ryokan inns.

In these tourist spots, we noticed a significant presence of Indian and Malay tourists. Interestingly, some vendors had even picked up Islamic greetings like “salām,” reflecting the regular Muslim tourist traffic. During my visit, I met Mustafa, who recognised me from my online lectures. He was visiting with his wife and child, and we took the opportunity to invite him to the camp’s post-fajr programme.

Our next stop was Lake Kawaguchi Mosque, a converted space with an impressive interior, featuring a restaurant and well-maintained ablution facilities. What made this mosque particularly noteworthy was its management by indigenous Japanese Muslim. After prayers, we returned to the camp, where I had valuable discussions with the Egyptian scholars and other attendees.

The evening activities included a youth bonfire and various recreational programmes. During this time, I met Brother Haroon’s son, who had achieved the remarkable feat of memorising the Qur’an—an achievement made even more extraordinary by the fact that his mother, Brother Haroon’s Japanese convert wife, had also memorised the Qur’an completely. In a country with limited Islamic educational resources compared to the UK, such accomplishments testified to their exceptional dedication and determination. May Allāh preserve them.

Among the attendees was a recent convert to Islam from a renowned Japanese judo champion family. His story included an unfortunate incident where the Muslim who had guided him to Islam had subsequently stolen some of his possessions. Yet, Alḥamdulillāh, this negative experience hadn’t shaken his faith, and he remained steadfast in Islam.

Monday 23 September

I had a final talk scheduled for a bit later in the morning. However, we were worried that if we waited for that and departed thereafter, we would catch the end of holidays traffic. So we spoke with brother Haroon about moving my final talk to after Fajr. He agreed and I did my farewell talk after leading the fajr prayer. Again, there was a good practice of making everyone read the morning adhkār.

This time I spoke about the five dimensions of Islam, followed by the four activities one needs to do each day to maintain their spirituality: seeking forgiveness (istighfār), conferring blessings on the Prophet (Allāh bless him and give him peace) (ṣalawāt), Qur’an reading with reflection, and meditation (murāqaba) each day to maintain one’s faith. Scholars usually recommend one hundred each of the first two and at least a few pages of Qur’ān, with about seven to ten minutes of meditation. Brother Faik was particularly moved by the discussion of the five dimensions and their practical application. He later arranged for his daughter to translate a version of this talk into Japanese, which we added as subtitles to an online recording on my channel of a similar talk I had delivered on another occasion.

Alḥamdulillāh, after farewells and packing, we managed to depart by 7:30 am. Though the navigation showed 2.5 hours for the journey, we reached Tokyo’s outskirts surprisingly quickly due to light traffic. We reached Lalaport Mall (ららぽーと) in Tachikawa. Among the stores, we visited Muji (無印良品, Mujirushi Ryōhin, literally “no-brand quality goods”), a company that has revolutionised minimalist design since its founding in 1980. Originally created as a private label for the Seiyu supermarket chain, Muji began with just forty products but has grown to offer over 7,000 items today. The company’s philosophy centres on three core principles: selection of materials, streamlining of processes, and simplification of packaging.

Muji’s stationery line, which drew me to purchase a 0.3 mechanical pencil, exemplifies their design ethos of functional minimalism. Their pens and pencils have gained a cult following among students, designers, and writers worldwide for their precision and reliability. The brand’s approach to home goods—simple, functional items in muted colours with minimal packaging—shares philosophical similarities with Ikea but maintains a distinctly Japanese aesthetic. While their store footprint is smaller than Ikea’s warehouse-style outlets, Muji’s influence on global design and retail has been significant.

The price points at both Muji and other stores in Lalaport were notably lower than equivalent products in the UK, reflecting Japan’s different retail pricing structure and competitive market dynamics.

For non-resident foreigners, Japan offers a convenient tax-free shopping system. Upon presenting your passport in some stores, you receive an immediate ten percent discount (equivalent to the tax) at the point of purchase, provided you meet the minimum spending requirement. This is notably more convenient than many other countries’ systems, which require filling out forms and claiming refunds at airports or borders upon departure.

We then proceeded to Costco, and prayer times revealed an interesting aspect of Muslim life in Japan. Both in the mall and Costco, my hosts had identified inconspicuous prayer spaces—small, out-of-the-way areas where they could quickly offer their prayers without disturbing others.

The challenge of finding halal food became apparent again during our mall visit. Even seemingly safe options like vegetarian pizza and pasta contained haram ingredients. We eventually settled for some chips (French fries) and crepes—not the healthiest options, but necessary given the circumstances.

Our next stop was Inagi (稲城市), a peaceful residential city in the western part of Tokyo Metropolis, about 25 kilometres from central Tokyo. Known for its abundant greenery and agricultural heritage, particularly its Japanese pear orchards, Inagi offers a calmer pace of life while maintaining easy access to central Tokyo via the Keio Line.

At Brother Faik’s lovely home, we witnessed extraordinary hospitality that touched our hearts. Despite having just returned from the camp and surely being exhausted, and despite our repeated insistence that simple scrambled eggs would be more than sufficient, they wouldn’t hear of serving anything less than a proper meal. Within just 40 minutes, this dedicated family had somehow managed to prepare a full spread of beef, rice, onions, eggs, and even dāl. Their determination to ensure my father could enjoy familiar Indian cuisine, even when they must have been thoroughly tired themselves, exemplified the true spirit of Islamic hospitality. Their selfless service left us deeply moved and somewhat humbled.

Upon returning to the same Bell Classic Hotel, we found they had efficiently handled our return. Though we had to check in again after our camp stay, they had preserved our original rooms and already delivered the luggage we’d left behind during the camp directly to our rooms.

Tuesday 24 September

Today was set aside for exploring parts of Tokyo, culminating in an evening programme at a masjid after Isha.

Our first destination was Yoyogi Memorial Park (代々木公園, Yoyogi Kōen), one of Tokyo’s largest and most significant public green spaces. Located in the heart of the city adjacent to Harajuku Station and the Meiji Shrine, this 134-acre (54.1 hectares) park has a rich history, having served as the Olympic Village during the 1964 Tokyo Olympics before being transformed into the vital recreational space it is today.

As we walked along the park’s main thoroughfare, we were impressed by the majestic trees lining both sides of the path. We noticed many tree trunks were wrapped in protective plastic—a measure to guard against a disease that had already claimed several trees in the area. The park is renowned for its diverse botanical features, including its famous ginkgo tree forest, which transforms into a spectacular golden display during autumn. In spring, the park comes alive with cherry blossoms, making it a cherished escape from Tokyo’s urban landscape throughout the year.

Tokyo Mosque

Our next stop was the Tokyo Mosque (東京ジャーミイ, Tokyo Jamii), also known as the Turkish mosque. Located in the upscale Shibuya ward, this architectural masterpiece draws inspiration from the Blue Mosque in Istanbul. Built in 2000 on some of Tokyo’s most valuable real estate, it stands as a testament to international Islamic cooperation, with numerous Muslim countries contributing to its construction.

The mosque’s history actually dates back to 1938, when it was first built by Tatars who had fled the Russian Revolution. The original wooden structure was demolished in 1986 due to deterioration, and the current magnificent structure rose in its place. Today, it stands alongside Kobe Mosque (1935) and Nagoya Mosque as one of Japan’s largest and most significant Islamic centres.

In our meeting with the Turkish director and imam, we learned about the mosque’s remarkable outreach efforts. They welcome approximately fifteen new converts monthly, and conduct regular open houses where around 150 Japanese visitors come each weekend to experience the adhan, observe prayers, and learn about Islam. The mosque’s cultural programming includes calligraphy classes, bridging Japanese and Islamic artistic traditions.

The Friday khuṭbas is translated into three languages: English, Turkish, and Japanese for Tokyo’s diverse Muslim community. The main prayer hall can accommodate 2,000 worshippers for regular Friday prayers, but during Eid, they manage to serve around 5,000 people through three separate congregations.

The building itself is a stunning blend of Ottoman and modern architecture, featuring traditional Turkish elements like intricate calligraphy, beautiful stained glass, and impressive chandeliers. Its spacious interior is adorned with Turkish carpets and illuminated by natural light filtering through numerous windows, creating an atmosphere of serenity in the midst of bustling Tokyo.

The mosque complex also houses a halal food shop. Beyond just groceries, the shop offers a selection of cold snacks, making it a convenient stop for visitors and worshippers alike. This practical addition to the mosque’s facilities helps address one of the main challenges Muslims face in Tokyo—access to halal food.

Shibuya Station

Shibuya Station (渋谷駅, Shibuya-eki) stands as a testament to Tokyo’s organised chaos, a pulsating hub where over two million people traverse daily through its labyrinthine corridors and multiple levels. But it’s the famous crossing outside that captures the imagination—the Shibuya Scramble Crossing (渋谷スクランブル交差点, Shibuya Sukuranburu Kōsaten), where up to 3,000 people surge forward at once when the lights change, creating a mesmerizing dance of humanity. This crossing has become so iconic that it’s often featured in films and media as a symbol of modern Tokyo.

During our visit, we joined this urban choreography, watching from street level as streams of people flowed in multiple directions like synchronised rivers proceeding to their destinations. The massive digital screens mounted on surrounding buildings bathe the scene in ever-changing neon hues.

Surrounding the crossing, we explored a fascinating array of shops, particularly intrigued by the local medicine stores stocked with hundreds of products. These shops featured everything from various ginseng shots to vitality supplements, each promising different health benefits, their packaging adorned with illustrative images indicating their purpose. However, the lack of English labelling made it challenging to fully understand their ingredients or determine their halal status.

One of the most remarkable aspects of Japanese society that we experienced was the respect for personal space and religious practice. Alḥamdulillāh, we found we could pray salat nearly anywhere as long as we weren’t blocking pathways. People would simply pass by without staring or showing undue curiosity. We prayed ‘Asr prayer just outside the Tokyo International Forum Building (東京国際フォーラム, Tōkyō Kokusai Fōramu), a striking glass and steel structure. There was a space to the right of the grand entrance where we laid out our prayer mats and performed our prayers undisturbed.

Tokyo Train Station

Tokyo Station (東京駅, Tōkyō-eki), completed in 1914, stands as a masterpiece of architectural fusion, combining Meiji-era European red brick design with Japanese efficiency. The station building, officially designated as an Important Cultural Property of Japan, was carefully restored in 2012 to its original glory after suffering damage during World War II.

As we explored this vast complex with its multiple platforms extending in all directions, we witnessed the legendary bullet trains (新幹線, Shinkansen) in action, their sleek forms gliding gracefully into position with characteristic precision. A fascinating detail caught our attention—a staff member methodically rotating seats in one carriage, ensuring passengers would face the direction of travel for the return journey. This small but significant task exemplifies the meticulous attention to detail that maintains Japan’s famous railway punctuality, where delays of more than one minute are considered significant enough to warrant an apology.

In the station’s shopping arcades, we encountered sampuru (サンプル)—the distinctly Japanese practice of displaying incredibly detailed plastic food replicas. These artisanal models, a tradition dating back to the 1920s, are handcrafted to be virtually indistinguishable from real food.

At one kiosk, after being offered a sample and confirming its vegetarian status, we purchased a box of custard-filled biscuits. Like most food vendors here, they showcased both a full replica and a cross-section model of the biscuit, allowing customers to see not just the exterior but also the precise layering and filling inside.

We then had to travel to the eastern part of Tokyo, to visit the Ojima Musalla (大島ムサッラ), which translates to the “Big Island Muṣallā.” Located in Kōtō ward (江東区), this small prayer space serves an area notable for its high concentration of South Indian residents and IT professionals. The presence of an Indian international school has made this neighbourhood particularly attractive to Indian expatriates and other foreign families seeking quality education for their children. Brother Shakil, originally from Kerala whom we had met at the camp, helps manage this facility and graciously welcomed our visit. May Allāh increase their muṣallā.

My evening programme was scheduled at the Nishi-Kasai Masjid (西葛西マスジド), but first, we had been invited by Muhammad Najib, a Syrian brother, for dinner in Gyotoku (行徳), which is located in Ichikawa City, Chiba Prefecture, just across Tokyo Bay. The area between Ojima and Gyotoku, stretching across parts of Kōtō ward and into Chiba Prefecture, represents the most densely populated Muslim community in the Tokyo metropolitan area.

Despite knowing the masjid had also arranged dinner, we couldn’t decline Najib’s insistent invitation, though we asked him to keep it light. We had gotten to know him and his family at the camp. A sayyid originally from Aleppo, he shared that his grandfather had been the amīr of Tabligh Jamaat in that city. He prepared some Syrian dishes and showed exemplary hospitality. During the meal, we witnessed a touching demonstration of traditional Islamic etiquette—when one brother needed to step out to call for his wife with his voice, Najib insisted on clearing the way first to ensure there would be no accidental encounters with the women of the household. This careful observation of proper hijab practices was particularly meaningful to me as we maintain the same system at home. It was heartening to see this Syrian tradition of maintaining proper segregation being practiced so diligently here in Japan, confirming that these practices are indeed part of our shared Islamic heritage across different cultures.

In Gyotoku, we made a brief but important stop at the well-known Hira Masjid (ヒラモスク), operated by the Islamic Circle of Japan (ICOJ). Established in 1966, ICOJ is one of Japan’s pioneering Muslim organizations and has played a crucial role in developing Islamic infrastructure across the country. The organization has been instrumental in establishing mosques, providing Islamic education, and building bridges between the Muslim community and Japanese society. Despite our tight schedule, we took time to visit and meet the Pakistani imam. Although the chairman, Brother Jamil, wasn’t present, our phone conversation opened possibilities for future collaboration with the organization.

We then proceeded to Nishi-Kasai Masjid, located in Edogawa ward (江戸川区) of eastern Tokyo. This area has become known as “Little India” due to its significant South Asian population and numerous Indian restaurants and shops. The mosque occupies what was once a surprisingly large mansion—unusual by Japanese residential standards where space is typically highly economized. The mystery of its size was explained when we learned it had previously belonged to a Chinese businessman. Now under the management of JIT (Japanese Islamic Trust) along with Otsuka Masjid, this converted residence serves as an important Islamic centre in the area, providing a spiritual home for the growing Muslim community in this part of Tokyo.

Despite the thoughtful preparation of a meal by the masjid committee before my lecture, I could only eat lightly. The evening program consisted of my talk on various topics, followed by an engaging question and answer session.

Wednesday 25 September

We departed around 10 am for Nippori (日暮里), Tokyo’s renowned textile district, also known as Nippori Textile Town (西日暮里繊維街). This area, with its concentration of fabric shops along a street called “Fabric Road,” has been a hub for textile commerce since the 1950s. My father was particularly interested in examining Japanese cloth, which is globally renowned for its exceptional quality. The dominant presence in the area was Tomato (トマト), a company operating multiple specialized stores, each dedicated to different types of fabric.

From there, we proceeded to Sensō-ji (浅草寺), Tokyo’s oldest Buddhist temple located in Asakusa (浅草). The approach to the temple is through Nakamise-dōri (仲見世通り), a historic shopping street that dates back to the Edo period. Though bustling with tourists, this 250-meter stretch offers a glimpse into traditional Japan with its shops selling crafts and local specialties, albeit at tourist-oriented prices.

At the temple, we observed the omikuji (おみくじ) stations—small wooden structures where visitors participate in a fortune-telling ritual. After making a small offering, they shake a metal container (omikuji-bako) to receive a numbered stick, which corresponds to a drawer containing their fortune paper. As Muslims, this practice prompted deep reflection on Allāh’s blessing of Islam. Our pure monotheistic faith has freed us from such superstitious practices, which the Prophet Muhammad (Allāh bless him and give him peace) explicitly warned against. All forms of fortune-telling and divination contradict the fundamental Islamic principle that knowledge of the unseen belongs exclusively to Allāh, as stated in the Qur’an: “Say: None in the heavens and earth knows the unseen except Allāh” (27:65). Such practices can potentially lead to shirk by attributing knowledge of the unseen to other than Allāh.

From here, we went to one of the best sushi places in Tokyo, Sushi Zanmai, which is just a few minutes’ walk from Sensō-ji temple. We had decided that a trip to Japan could not be complete without experiencing authentic Japanese raw fish cuisine. Here we opted for sashimi (sliced raw fish without rice) and maki (rolled sushi with seaweed wrapper) rather than nigiri sushi (hand-pressed rice topped with fish). The restaurant is renowned for its fresh fish, particularly its tuna, which is sourced directly from the famous Tsukiji fish market.

While many people use the term “sushi” as a catch-all phrase for Japanese raw fish cuisine, there are distinct differences between sashimi, maki, and sushi. At its core, sushi specifically refers to dishes made with vinegared rice (sushi-meshi), which is the defining component of this style of Japanese cuisine. Sashimi, by contrast, is simply fresh raw fish or meat sliced thinly and served without rice, typically garnished with shredded daikon radish to highlight the pure, clean flavour of the fish. Maki (makizushi) is what most people recognize as “sushi rolls”—vinegared rice and various fillings wrapped in seaweed (nori) and cut into bite-sized pieces. A variation of this is uramaki, an “inside-out” roll with rice on the outside, which was actually created in Los Angeles to appeal to American customers who were initially hesitant about seeing the seaweed wrapper. Another common style is nigiri, which consists of hand-pressed mounds of vinegared rice topped with slices of raw or cooked fish—a style that originated in Tokyo in the 1820s. All these dishes are typically served with traditional condiments like wasabi, soy sauce, and pickled ginger (gari), but their fundamental compositions make them distinct from one another, even though they’re often collectively referred to as “sushi” in casual conversation.

My brother had been teasing my father about feeding him sushi, and now we finally had the opportunity. Coming from a culture unfamiliar with uncooked meats or fish, my father approached the experience with some hesitation. Nevertheless, he tried some, even boldly dipping it in wasabi. Despite being accustomed to very spicy food, he encountered the unique character of wasabi—not just hot on the tongue like typical chilies, but delivering a sharp, immediate jolt to the brain. Yet he maintained his composure, stoically declaring it “not too hot.” This was just a sampling of Japanese cuisine, not a full meal.

For our main lunch, we headed to Panga Restaurant, where my brother would finally get to experience what he had been eagerly anticipating since before our trip—authentic Wagyu beef. “Wa” means Japanese and “gyu” means cow, with Kobe beef being the most prestigious and sought-after classification of Wagyu, commanding premium prices that make it one of the world’s most expensive meats. While I had experienced Wagyu before in Australia and the UK, tasting it here in its homeland of Japan felt special, even for someone who doesn’t typically get excited about steaks. Having sampled excellent meats around the world—from the remarkably tender beef in Zambia and Zimbabwe (especially their barbecued T-bone and minute steaks), to the high-quality lamb and beef in Australia and New Zealand, and the tasty Angus beef from Scotland—I was curious to experience Wagyu in its place of origin. The restaurant, which serves halal Wagyu, is extremely popular and securing a table isn’t easy. The dining experience was uniquely interactive—each table was equipped with a small grill in the centre, heated by a flame underneath. We started with an exceptional clear soup, perfectly spiced with a depth of flavour that hinted at the culinary excellence to come. Then came plates of beautifully marbled Wagyu beef, sliced to perfect thickness for grilling. Using our chopsticks, we would carefully place the meat on the hot grill, watching it cook within seconds, the fat marbling melting to create a succulent, tender piece of beef. Once again, my father was initially hesitant about this cooking method, but after trying the meat quickly seared over the flame, he thoroughly enjoyed it. Like many seasoned travellers from the subcontinent, he always carried packets of Indian spices on international trips in case the local cuisine proves too bland, but on this occasion, his trusty spices most likely remained untouched in his pocket.

From our Wagyu experience, we ventured to the Yodobashi Store, one of Japan’s most impressive electronics department stores. The sheer scale of the place was overwhelming—spanning multiple floors, each level was packed wall-to-wall with every imaginable electronic device and accessory. From watches to cameras, computers to home appliances, the variety and volume of products was unlike anything I had ever encountered in the UK. The store was a testament to Japan’s electronics culture, with each department meticulously organized yet densely stocked. Despite the bustling atmosphere and countless shoppers, we managed to find a quiet aisle in what appeared to be the printing supplies section to perform our Maghrib prayers. This moment of tranquillity amidst the electronic chaos felt particularly poignant.

In Japan, religion holds a unique and complex position that differs significantly from many other cultures. The Japanese concept of religion is predominantly private and personal, with a historical blend of Shinto and Buddhist practices that most Japanese people observe culturally rather than as strict religious doctrine. While about 70% of Japanese people participate in Shinto rituals and 60% in Buddhist ones, many don’t consider themselves religious in the way Western cultures understand religiosity.

This cultural approach to religion has led to what some describe as a secular public sphere, where overt religious expression is often seen as inappropriate in public spaces. During our visit, this became apparent when seeking places to pray, as some staff members explained that public religious expression wasn’t customary in Japan. This wasn’t necessarily due to intolerance, but rather reflects the Japanese view that religious practices should be confined to private spaces or designated religious sites.

The concept of “meiwaku” (迷惑, causing trouble or inconvenience to others) indeed plays a fundamental role in Japanese society. Japanese culture places great emphasis on maintaining public harmony and avoiding any actions that might disturb or inconvenience others. This cultural value, combined with their generally private approach to religion, explains why our requests for prayer space were sometimes met with hesitation.

Despite this, we learned to navigate these cultural sensitivities by finding our own solutions. Whether it was the small space at the mall, or the discrete area between shelves at Costco, we managed to fulfil our prayers through careful observation and discretion. We discovered that rather than making formal requests that might cause “meiwaku” and put staff in an uncomfortable position of having to respond to an unusual request, it was more effective to quietly identify suitable spaces ourselves—ones where we wouldn’t disturb others or disrupt the normal flow of business. This approach allowed us to maintain our religious obligations while respecting local cultural norms.

A Journey Through Japanese Tea Culture

Japanese tea culture (茶道, Sadō or Chadō, “The Way of Tea”) is deeply woven into the fabric of Japanese society, representing harmony, respect, purity, and tranquillity. The vast majority of traditional Japanese teas are variations of green tea, each processed and prepared differently to create distinct characteristics and flavour profiles.

During our stay, I discovered Hojicha (ほうじ茶) in our hotel room—a unique variation where the green tea leaves are roasted until they turn a reddish-brown colour, creating a toasty, almost nutty flavour profile that I came to appreciate. Its lower caffeine content, due to the roasting process, made it a suitable choice for evening drinking, and I found myself enjoying a cup on some nights before bed.

What makes Japanese teas particularly interesting is their varying preparation methods and characteristics. Matcha (抹茶), perhaps the most distinctive, is made from specially grown green tea leaves that are stone-ground into a fine, bright green powder. Unlike other teas where leaves are steeped and removed, with matcha you consume the entire tea leaf in powder form, whisked vigorously into hot water to create a frothy, rich drink with an intense flavour and vibrant colour. Sencha (煎茶), the most commonly consumed daily tea in Japan, consists of whole leaves that are steamed, rolled, and dried, producing a refreshing, grassy flavour when steeped. Gyokuro (玉露) is considered one of Japan’s most precious teas—the plants are shaded from sunlight for several weeks before harvesting, resulting in a sweet, full-bodied flavour and deep green colour. Genmaicha (玄米茶) offers an interesting twist by combining green tea with roasted brown rice, creating a unique nutty flavour that was historically used by poorer Japanese to make their tea supply last longer. Bancha (番茶), made from more mature leaves harvested after sencha, provides a stronger, more earthy flavour profile. Each of these teas requires specific water temperatures and steeping times to bring out their optimal flavours, reflecting the precision and attention to detail that characterizes Japanese tea culture. Our final stop in Japan was to purchase some of these distinctive teas to take home.

Having grown fond of Hojicha during our stay, I made sure to buy some of that, along with matcha and various matcha-flavoured products including chocolate. While matcha remains more of an acquired taste for me—my appreciation for it stems more from an intellectual understanding of its significant health benefits and alertness-promoting properties rather than a natural preference for its distinctive flavour.

We needed to reach As-Salaam Foundation in Okachimachi (御徒町), a vibrant commercial district in Tokyo’s Taitō ward, for 6:45 PM for what would be my final talk of this Japan visit. We arrived earlier at the request of Mr Muhammad Nazir, a Sri Lankan who is one of the key figures behind the masjid. He wanted us to visit the site of their ambitious new project—a plot of land they had purchased for constructing a larger masjid. Given the premium costs of both land and construction in Japan, this represents a significant investment in the community’s future. Alḥamdulillāh, we made it there in time and made collective du‘a’ at the site. May Allāh assist them with this new building project and enable its swift completion.

We then proceeded to the existing masjid for the scheduled program. After delivering my final talk in Japan, I invited my father to share some words in Urdu with the congregation. The evening concluded with a communal dinner served in traditional Arab style—large plates of mandi-style rice and beef, around which people gathered in small groups to eat collectively.

As our journey in Japan drew to a close with this final gathering, it seemed an appropriate moment to reflect on the various aspects of Japanese society that had left impressions on us. From its remarkable infrastructure to its unique social dynamics, Japan had revealed itself as a country of fascinating contrasts and thoughtful solutions to modern challenges. Here are some key observations from our time in this remarkable nation:

Urban Engineering Excellence

Japan’s approach to urban infrastructure, particularly in Tokyo, demonstrates remarkable efficiency and consideration for both space utilization and quality of life. The roadway system is meticulously organized, with multiple levels of highways and streets crisscrossing one another in an intricate yet logical network. A striking feature is the extensive use of sound barriers along highways and major roads, designed to minimize noise pollution for surrounding residential and commercial buildings. The premium placed on land is evident everywhere—every square meter is thoughtfully utilized, leading to innovative solutions in both transportation and parking. This is particularly visible in the Tokyo Aqua-Line, an engineering marvel that combines a bridge and underwater tunnel system across Tokyo Bay. Throughout the city, tunnels of varying lengths have become crucial components of the transportation network, efficiently moving traffic while preserving valuable above-ground space. The parking systems reflect this space consciousness as well—nearly all parking areas require payment, except for some superstore lots. Perhaps the most ingenious example of this is found in local street parking, where individual bays are equipped with raiseable metal barriers that lift up once a car is parked. These security frames remain in place until parking fees are paid at the designated machine, at which point they lower to allow the vehicle to exit—a sophisticated solution to both space management and payment enforcement.

A Changing Demographics

Tokyo stands as one of the world’s largest metropolitan areas, with the Greater Tokyo Area housing approximately 37.4 million people, while the Tokyo Metropolis itself has a population of over 14 million. This megacity has been experiencing interesting demographic shifts in recent years. While the local Japanese population has been gradually declining, there has been a notable increase in the foreign resident population, reflecting Japan’s slowly changing approach to immigration. The Muslim community, in particular, has seen significant changes in its presence and structure over the past decade. Historically, Muslim workers would come to Japan primarily as temporary labourers, maintaining their families back in their home countries while sending remittances. However, in the last ten years or so, there has been a noticeable shift in this pattern, with more Muslims choosing to settle permanently in Japan and bring their families with them, contributing to the growing diversity of Tokyo’s population. This change reflects both Japan’s gradually opening attitude toward foreign residents and the development of more supportive infrastructure for Muslim communities, including halal food options and prayer facilities.

The Art of Social Harmony

In Japan, I experienced a remarkable aspect of their culture that struck me deeply—you are never made to feel self-conscious or like an outsider. Even when walking through crowded streets in overtly Islamic clothing, the response from passersby, including Japanese children, was extraordinary in its complete absence—it was as if we did not exist at all. You never encounter a stare (jiroma), a scowl, a snigger, or receive any snide remarks from strangers. There’s no sideways glancing or turning away as you might experience in other cultures—instead, there’s a practised unawareness that stems from their concepts of reigi (courtesy) and kikubari (consideration for others). This isn’t the artificial friendliness of saying hello to strangers that you might find in some countries; rather, it’s a deep-rooted cultural respect for others’ privacy and personal space, embodying the principles of meiwaku (causing discomfort to others) and kuuki wo yomu (reading the air/social situation).

Social Structure and Work Ethics

The Japanese approach to social interaction reflects a broader pattern of individualism that, paradoxically, can lead to significant social isolation and stress. This manifests in concerning ways, including a notably high suicide rate. Their individualistic nature extends even to married couples, where it’s common for spouses to maintain separate finances and pay for their own meals, even when dining together. While Japanese women are traditionally seen as obedient, both genders tend to be notably reserved. Their relationship with work is particularly distinctive—while they aren’t typically driven by the pursuit of wealth, they demonstrate an almost religious devotion to their work, prioritising quality and dedication over monetary gain. This work culture is highly structured, with nationwide breaks signalled by bells at noon (lasting until 1 pm) and another 15-minute break at 3 pm. There’s also a strong emphasis on self-reliance; many Japanese people maintain minimal savings and are reluctant to seek financial help, even from close family members like siblings.

Innovation Born of Necessity

This mindset exists within a country that has developed remarkably despite its limitations—while countries like those in Africa possess abundant natural resources, Japan has flourished despite having minimal natural resources and only about 30% of its land being suitable for urban development and habitation due to its mountainous terrain. This has fostered a culture of innovation and adaptation, with Japanese society becoming known for its ability to improvise and find creative solutions to challenges. This is particularly evident in urban living patterns, where space efficiency is paramount. Many Japanese homes incorporate traditional elements, including tatami mat rooms, which are still used to measure room sizes—a “six-tatami room” being a common reference for space measurement. A significant portion of Japanese people maintain traditional sleeping arrangements using foldable futons on tatami mats, though exact percentages vary. There’s a traditional saying that illustrates their minimalist approach: “one only needs a single tatami mat—half to sit on and the full mat to sleep on.” This efficient use of space and resources, combined with their strong work ethic and ability to adapt and improve upon existing systems, has helped Japan develop into a highly productive society despite its geographical constraints.

Language and Writing Systems

Many words in the Japanese alphabet can be represented more concisely than their English counterparts, allowing multiple pages of English text to be condensed into a single page in Japanese. This efficiency stems from the fundamental structure of the Japanese language, which is syllabic in nature. One of its most distinctive features is its consonant-vowel pattern, where syllables typically end in vowels, creating what linguists call “open syllables.” The only exception to this rule is the consonant ‘n’, which can appear at the end of a syllable.

This syllabic structure has interesting implications for how Japanese adapts foreign words, particularly names from languages like Arabic and Persian. Since Japanese phonology doesn’t naturally accommodate consonant clusters or words ending in consonants (except ‘n’), foreign words are modified to fit this pattern. For example, names like “Muhammad” or “Shamshad” are adapted by adding vowels, typically ‘o’ or ‘u’, becoming “Muhammado” or “Shamshadu” to conform to Japanese phonological rules.

This linguistic characteristic is deeply embedded in the Japanese writing system, which consists of three scripts: hiragana, katakana, and kanji. Each character in the phonetic scripts (hiragana and katakana) represents a complete syllable rather than individual sounds, making it a fundamentally different approach to writing compared to alphabetic systems like English.

Healthcare and Dietary Habits

Japan is renowned for having one of the world’s highest life expectancies, with many of its citizens living well into their eighties and beyond. This longevity can be attributed to several factors, including their distinctive dietary habits and healthcare system. The Japanese healthcare system requires a 30% co-payment for medical services, with the insurance system covering the remaining 70%. One notable aspect of Japanese health consciousness is their approach to sugar consumption, which is remarkably modest compared to Western standards. As one anecdote illustrates, the Japanese mother-in-law of one of the immigrants I met made half a kilogram of sugar last an entire year. This is also reflected in their beverage choices, with many vending machines and stores offering many unsweetened options, particularly in their cold tea selections. Japanese cuisine is also designed with digestive health in mind—as our host explained, traditional Japanese food should not cause heartburn after consumption. This attention to dietary balance, combined with their emphasis on preventive care and regular health screenings, contributes significantly to the population’s overall health and longevity. The Japanese approach to healthcare and nutrition demonstrates how cultural practices and modern medical systems can work together to promote public health.

Religious Context

In Japan, there are strict regulations regarding the separation of religion from public spaces and institutions. You cannot rent public facilities like halls or parks for religious purposes, reflecting Japan’s post-war commitment to maintaining clear boundaries between religion and state. This is particularly interesting given Japan’s complex religious history, which primarily involves two major faiths: Shinto and Buddhism. Many Muslim groups and organisations find it difficult to rent larger spaces for programs and worship given this rule.

Most Japanese practice what might be called religious syncretism, often participating in both Shinto and Buddhist traditions simultaneously. Shinto, Japan’s indigenous religion, is primarily concerned with this world and this life, while Buddhism addresses matters of the soul and afterlife. This explains why approximately 70% of Japanese people participate in Shinto rituals while many also observe Buddhist practices—the two religions complement each other rather than compete.

The Japanese Constitution guarantees freedom of religion, and the country receives high scores for religious freedom in international assessments. However, as discussed before, this freedom comes with clear boundaries about how religion can be expressed in public spaces. Religious education cannot be given in government schools, though private schools are permitted to teach specific religions. This balance between religious freedom and secular public spaces reflects Japan’s post-war commitment to preventing the kind of state-sponsored religious control that existed during the imperial period. The result is a society where religious practice is largely considered a private matter, separate from public and political life.

Fruit Culture

In Japan, fruit is treated with an extraordinary level of care and respect that reflects the broader Japanese cultural emphasis on presentation and quality. During our visit, we observed how meticulously fruits were displayed in stores, each piece treated almost like a precious jewel. Apples and pears were individually wrapped in soft Styrofoam protective sleeves to prevent any blemishing—a practice that might seem excessive to Western eyes but perfectly embodies the Japanese attention to detail. The fruit we encountered was remarkable not just in its presentation but also in its size; we saw apples and Nashi pears (Japanese pears) that were impressively large, comparable to grapefruits and significantly larger than my fist. Each piece of fruit carried detailed labelling indicating its precise regional origin, reflecting the Japanese consumer’s interest in product provenance and quality. The grapes were particularly abundant during our visit as they were in season, and we took full advantage of this, enjoying plenty of the local fruit throughout our stay.

This careful attention to seasonal produce connects to another famous aspect of Japanese seasonality—the cherry blossom (Sakura) season. These iconic pink flowers bloom for just one brief week in spring, creating a stunning but ephemeral display that perfectly encapsulates the Japanese appreciation for the transient beauty of nature. The brevity of the cherry blossom season makes it all the more precious to Japanese culture, much like the carefully cultivated and presented fruits we encountered in the markets.

Thursday 26 September

Final Reflections and Departure

After nearly eight days immersed in this fascinating culture, it was time to bid farewell to Japan. With our luggage packed, we went downstairs to check out of our hotel, where we were touched to find several officials from the masjid had come to bid us farewell. One of them presented me with a thoughtful parting gift—an assortment of matcha products, reflecting our discussions about Japanese tea culture. We loaded our bags into Faik’s car and set off for the airport.

After completing our check-in formalities, Faik and his family led us to a quieter area of the airport where there were some tables and empty floor space. What happened next was both surprising and deeply moving—they laid out a large sheet on the carpet and proceeded to create an impromptu dining space. From their preparations emerged a hot pot of freshly made rice, various curries, and other dishes. It was a scene I do not remember ever witnessing—this comfortable, familial style of eating traditional food in an airport setting. The gesture was particularly meaningful as it represented a perfect blend of Japanese and Sri Lankan hospitality with home comforts.

May Allāh reward brother Faik and his family for their exceptional hospitality. They had truly gone above and beyond to ensure our comfort, paying special attention to my father’s needs. In a country like Japan, with its significant language barriers and distinctly different cultural norms, their assistance was invaluable. Faik’s ability to contextualize our experiences and arrange our entire trip so seamlessly made our journey not just manageable but deeply enriching. He helped bridge the gap between two very different cultures, allowing us to appreciate Japan’s unique characteristics while maintaining our comfort level.

A Final Note: The Mystery of the Japanese Car Voice

And finally, a mystery solved! For years, in countries across Asia, Africa, the Caribbean, and even in the UK, where Japanese used cars find their second homes, drivers have become accustomed to a mysterious female voice greeting them every morning. “イーティーシー カード” (ETC cādo), she announces cheerfully, leaving countless non-Japanese speakers wondering if their car is trying to communicate something profound, or perhaps warning of impending doom. As it turns out, this faithful digital companion is simply lamenting the absence of an Electronic Toll Collection card—a device essential for highway travel in Japan but utterly useless in, say, the streets of Karachi or Lusaka. Yet these Japanese cars, even thousands of miles from home, maintain their polite insistence on proper toll-paying protocol. It’s perhaps the perfect embodiment of Japanese attention to detail and protocol, still persisting long after the cars have left their native shores!