Kyoto: Chopstick Making Class in Gion & Name Engraving

Summary

Hand-craft chopsticks in Kyoto’s Gion with a local artisan

You’ll shape your own pair of wooden chopsticks from scratch in Kyoto’s Gion district, guided by a friendly local artisan who helps you pick your favorite wood and teaches each step. You can even have your name engraved for a special touch. Expect hands-on work, quiet moments, and a keepsake you’ll actually want to use at home.

Step-by-step itinerary

Day 1 — Create personalized wooden chopsticks

• Choose wood type and color
• Select chopstick length
• Place chopsticks on stand
• Carve chopsticks with hand plane
• Sand surface and edges
• Apply natural oil finish
• Optionally engrave your name

Top questions

Is the Kyoto chopstick making class suitable for beginners?

Yes, the class is designed for all skill levels and the local artisan guides you through each step.

Can I choose what type of wood to use for my chopsticks?

Yes, you can select from various types of wood with different colors and grains.

Is there an option to engrave my name on the chopsticks?

Yes, you can have your name engraved in Japanese or your native language as an optional extra.

Where does the workshop take place?

The class takes place in Kyoto’s historic Gion district.

Are children allowed to join this activity?

Yes, infants and small children are welcome; they can ride in a stroller or sit on an adult’s lap.

Is the workshop wheelchair accessible?

Yes, all areas and surfaces are wheelchair accessible.

Are public transportation options nearby?

Yes, there are public transportation options available near the workshop location.

What’s included

Your experience includes full use of the workshop space in Kyoto’s Gion district, access to several types of wood (with both free choices and paid upgrades), guidance from bilingual staff throughout every step—even engraving if you want—and everything is set up so anyone can join comfortably regardless of age or mobility needs.

What’s the experience like?

The first thing I noticed walking into the little workshop in Gion was the smell—like old cedar mixed with something sweet, maybe camphor? Our guide, who introduced herself as Yuko, greeted us with this gentle bow and a smile that made me feel like I’d just stepped into someone’s home rather than a studio. She showed us these rows of wood—some dark and heavy, some almost golden—and let us pick which felt right. I kept running my fingers over the lighter one, not really sure why. Maybe it reminded me of the pine trees back home.

We sat down at these low tables while Yuko explained (in both Japanese and English, switching back and forth so everyone could follow) how to use the hand plane. It took me three tries before I got even one smooth pass—she laughed softly and said most people struggle at first. There was this quiet hum from outside, but inside you could hear every scrape of wood, every little sigh when someone managed a good cut. My hands got covered in fine dust and I kept brushing it off my jeans without thinking. The whole process was slower than I expected—almost meditative? But not in a forced way.

After sanding for what felt like ages (my fingertips still remember that texture), we wiped the chopsticks down and brushed on this natural oil that brought out all these subtle patterns in the grain. Someone asked about getting their name engraved in kanji; Yuko offered to write it out for them first so they could see how it looked. I tried to say my name in Japanese—she giggled politely and wrote it much better than I ever could. It was honestly kind of moving seeing my name carved into something so simple but personal.