As the rest of Archivorum Ark gathers in Belgium for the Archivorum Ark Two Study Days, I find myself reflecting on a different journey—one that took me to Japan. While my colleagues discuss preservation and archives, I’ve been experiencing a country where history and modernity blend naturally into their culture.
We found ourselves staying in the heart of Tokyo, in the neighborhood of Shinjuku. Being so close to the subways and Shinkansen gave me access to a metropolis that constantly rewrites its own history. Towering skyscrapers exist beside centuries-old shrines, and hidden alleys lead to izakayas seemingly frozen in time. In a city where the past is often paved over, memory persists in unexpected ways.

One of the most favorite moments of my trip was visiting Kyoto, Japan’s former capital and a city where history is not just preserved but actively lived. Unlike Tokyo’s rapid transformations, Kyoto feels like a carefully tended museum where the past remains part of everyday life.
A highlight was Kinkaku-ji, the Golden Pavilion. Though originally built in the 14th century, the current structure is a reconstruction from the 1950s, after an arson destroyed the original. This raised a question with me about authenticity in preservation—when something is rebuilt, does it retain its historical value? In archiving, we face similar dilemmas: does a digitized document hold the same weight as its physical counterpart? Am I building a new Ship of Theseus, or rebuilding the original?

What made Kinkaku-ji even more special was my personal connection through video games. As a child, I unknowingly encountered Kyoto’s history in Pokémon Gold & Silver. Inspired by Kyoto, the game incorporated cultural landmarks, including a golden temple. This was my first exposure to Japan’s past, showing how cultural preservation can take many forms—even digital ones embedded in pop culture.

Japan was constantly demonstrating that preservation of shared culture was not about freezing time but allowing history to evolve. This trip specifically reminded me that cultural memory is not static—they are living, evolving entities. Just as archivists decide what to preserve and how to contextualize it, places like Kyoto and Tokyo continuously negotiate their relationship with history. And sometimes, the most unexpected archives—whether a city, a meal, or a childhood video game - shape our understanding of time and identity.
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