For anyone who has seen the 2003 film, "Lost in Translation," the theme of culture shock rings true. There are many experiences in another land that one finds are left unexplained.

Perception is everything, as PGA Professional Chip Sullivan of Troutville, Va., can attest after his first trip to the Orient.

From May 10-18, Sullivan became the first reigning PGA Professional National Champion to accept an invitation to compete in the Japan PGA Championship.

Sullivan completed a successful tour of the Raysum Golf & Spa Resort, posting weekend rounds of 67 and 71 to share 18th place at 5-under-par 283. Off the course, a busy social schedule of dinners, news conferences and social gatherings left Sullivan feeling that he was an unofficial U.S. ambassador for The PGA of America.

"They rolled out the red carpet for me and my caddie, (father-in-law Tom Hall)," said Sullivan, who arrived home at 7:00 p.m. Monday night. "As I left Japan, I let out a deep breath. I was worn out. The formality was overwhelming. It was bizarre; I felt it was more than Chip Sullivan, a PGA Professional, competing in their championship."

Sullivan, who will defend his National Championship, June 19-22, at Reynolds Plantation in Greensboro, Ga., said that he would encourage any future PGA Professional National Champion to make the same trip to Japan.

"It was an experience that both Tom and I will treasure the rest of our lives," said Sullivan, who also wrote a daily blog for PGA.com. "It was the perfect week in my life to learn a different culture. For Tom (a 59-year-old deputy superintendent of Roanoke (Va.) County Schools, it was a bit more. "They treated him like a king, and I know that not all caddies were treated the same. He was a member of my family and he got the royal treatment."

Sullivan said that one custom he would enjoy seeing replicated in the U.S. was the merging of junior golfers with the competitors.

"Each player in my group was introduced to a junior golfer," said Sullivan. "We held their hand, and then our threesome walked to the first tee with the children. We signed their caps, and I signed a ball for my junior as well. We took a picture with them on the tee, and then were formally introduced to start the round.

"I can't think of a more amazing way to create a lifelong love of golf in children."

According to Sullivan, Japan PGA Communications Liaison Satoru Sunagawa made the entire week go that much easier. Sunagawa served as a translator, concierge, provided a computer for Sullivan's blogs and also aided in the protocol for meetings and dinners with Japan PGA officials.

"Sandy (the nickname for Satoru) will be my friend for life," said Sullivan. "He was tremendous."

The fraternity PGA Professionals around the world share in the game is not diminished by a major culture divide, Sullivan reports.

"We all love the game of golf and we work hard to compete at our best and grow the game at all opportunities," he said. "I shared with reporters that even when I am not playing in Tour events, the talent which surrounds me is inspiring. The PGA of America is filled with players who are just as good as the 'big boys.' We are a brotherhood which constantly encourages each other to stay on top of our games."

Once back home, Sullivan was able to reconnect with his wife, Kari, and his three children, one of whom, Camryn, 6, is in a kindergarten play.

Sullivan brought back a "Daruma" doll for his daughters. Approximately 95 percent of the dolls are manufactured in the Gunma region of Japan - where the Japan PGA Championship was contested.

Also known as "dharma" dolls, the figures are hollow and round "wish" dolls. They have no arms or legs, and are modeled after Bodhidharma, the founder and patriarch of Zen.

"I got quite an education on these dolls," said Sullivan. "And, I watched as Shingo Katayama hoisted a large one after his victory Sunday (in the Japan PGA Championship). It was quite a sight."

The doll has a face with a moustache and beard, but its eyes only contain the color white. Using black ink, the owner of the doll fills in a single circular eye while thinking of a wish. Should the wish later come true, the second eye is filled in. It is traditional to fill in the right eye first; the left eye is left blank until the wish is fulfilled.

"My daughter painted one eye, saying that she hopes that she doesn't forget her lines for the play," said Sullivan.

Perhaps Daddy Sullivan will be help his daughter paint again soon, mindful of how some wishes -- even in the most unexpected places -- do come true.