I was concerned in writing about this topic that I had already covered this at some point, so I reviewed some old posts. The closest is "Learning Koryu (or not)" from 'way back in 2011, and, to be honest, I did not really stress the idea that if one is really serious about a traditional art form (and I don't care if it's budo, Japanese classical dance, tea, or anything else) that if a practitioner does not at least spend some time training in Japan, she will never gain a very deep understanding of what her practice is about.
I once asked my teacher, Otani sensei, about his opinion on the then-flood of Chinese-made "shinken" which were everywhere available in the US market at the time (they aren't shinken, since they are not traditionally-made. I call them "sharpies", because they definitely are, but that's all). He simply said, "If you study a Japanese traditional art form, you should use Japanese things." The same rule goes for me in terms of training.
I go to Japan at least once a year. I go to train, but also to wander around, take photos, and just interact with people. I generally go by myself, so I can simply be there. Though I may run into fellow American budoka at a particular training event, I always try to spend a little extra time, even if it is only a few days, in Japan.
Sure, you can learn all the fundamentals, and even advanced techniques of various traditional ryuha provided you have a competent teacher. Travel is expensive and time-consuming, and my teacher fully understood that it could be difficult for people to train in the Old Country. He never faulted beginners who were reluctant to make the time and money commitment to go abroad, but for the senior students, it came to be more or less expected. But not everyone was interested in complying. I needed no encouragement; I have always enjoyed traveling, and I always wanted to go to Japan. My first trip there was in (wait for it) 1986. But I remember him talking to others who had no interest in traveling and/or no interest in learning anything about the history, language or culture of the origin of the art form we were diligently practicing, week after week. No matter how physically talented, it seemed to sensei that a student who did not want to visit the country of origin was deficient in his training. Being sensei, however, he never insisted; but I could tell he was disappointed in their lack of interest.
Of course, I know many competetent, and even masterly, budoka, who have never spent much time in Japan. And at least from a book/video perspective, they may well know a great deal about the history of their style as well as Japanese history, etc. They may even have picked up enough Japanese language to talk to their teacher when he comes to the States on his annual visit. It's all good; but in my opinion, it's not enough.
There are several reasons to go to Japan. One, obviously, is to meet your fellow practitioners and train at the honbu and/or branch dojo. That can be a real eye-opening experience, though the seminar experience is a rarified one (I actually like the regular dojo practices better overall). But when the seminar is over, there are many more reasons to stick around. It's one thing to read history in books, it's totally another to feel and see the palimpsest of history all around you, if you know how to look for it. I'm not just talking about wandering the picturesque temples of Kyoto (though it's a good idea). I'm talking about the ancient, small shrine tucked down a side street in Tokyo, visitng Sengakuji and watching people go to and fro lighting incense to honor the memory of the Ako o-gishi after over 300 years, to catch a glimpse of Fuji-san as the shinkansen speeds you past from one place to another, or going to Matsumoto jo, which is surrounded by a public park where people go at the end of the day to relax and simply look at it. There is also the bustle of train stations and experience of superb infrastructure that should not work, given the sheer volume of people, but it does, and the tents of homeless people down by the Sumidagawa (though fewer of them are there now because of the rebuilt waterfront). And the continuing pain of Fukushima, two years after the tsunami disaster, as people still work to put their shattered lives back together.
That's what you miss when you stay home in your local dojo, or only go on a fast break to a seminar. I guess it depends not so much on financial means (since I regularly forego buying cool stuff in order to preserve my travel budget) as much as what your practice means to you. Anyone can pick up a sword and swing it around according to someone's directions. You can even get really good at it. But you won't even begin to "get" it unless you go practice in Japan. Often.
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