Today it makes one week that I have been in Japan, and in that one week I have begun to explore a routine. I have managed to find a café that I am happy with, which is owned by Japanese locals and where I can write peacefully. Not only does this help me to feel what daily life would be like in Japan, it also gives me a safe space to slowly start practicing my Japanese. The people in this area are very friendly, and very helpful. If there is a possibility for me to be confused, then there always seems to be someone there to help me. I am touched by the kindness of people here, and I think that I would have had a different experience if I were in Tokyo where people are a little more restricted for time. Even though it may seem a little boring, I find my way of travelling to be quite enriching.
Sometimes I try to make things more exciting, like when I went to Kyoto for the day. However, I can help feel that these more famous places are more tiring than they are exciting. They may appear beautiful on the outside, but it takes a long time to penetrate into the inner world of a touristic location. Their appearance becomes a thick skin, made only to please the camera and those with enough time to appreciate superficial aspects of architecture, culture and history. I can’t help but feel that I am more interested in something different… in the history that’s being written now in the daily life of individuals. The invisible ink that we all use without realising, every time we wake up and go about our day. History is, after all, constantly being told from different perspectives. It’s both individual and collective. Just like our actions are simultaneously our very own, as well as a small part of a bigger group or pattern.
I find myself bored with the big shrines in Kyoto, which are of course important for the majority of people, and more interested in the smaller, local ones. They are quieter, and although they are not always as bright or beautiful, they are important. I am only able to come to Japan because of all the people in between, no matter how small their job is. From the pilot and airline crew, to the CEO of the airline I used to get here. From the cleaners at the airport, to the designer of the apartment in which I live. I watch the farmers working the rice fields during the day over here, and I think to myself that in my kitchen I am probably enjoying the fruits of their labour. Isn’t the bigger story of history made up of the unique stories of each life? It is the local shrines, the local beliefs, the local prayers, that have kept the village moving, thriving and motivated to progress towards the modern luxuries that I now enjoy today.
The world is not only of the few, it is of the many. Yet, when we travel, we only want to know about those few important locations, those few important people who seemed so influential during their lifetime. But they would not have been influential if they did not have people who were open to be influenced. People who put down their egos and decided that they would work with the tools that they were given. They would put their faith in something bigger, knowing that their little contribution wasn’t so little after all. It makes me rethink my urge to chase the pretty places, the information which the social majority dictates is important to me. In fact, sometimes I don’t like to visit “must see” locations at all, because I don’t want someone to tell me what I “must” do. It’s petty in one way, I know, but I want to prove to myself that I will lose nothing if I don’t follow the herd.
If there is something that I find the most rewarding about travel, it is that we can always make our own path no matter how short a time we have. We can listen to the excitement of others, but then put it aside knowing that it is only through our hearts that we will have an authentic experience. That we will be able to take special memories away with us. Maybe we can do this by going to the same café every day, meeting the same people who naturally come our way, and being open to their perspective. The urge to jump from place to place is strong, to try and have something to show for our time by keeping up with the race of others. Going slowly feels like a bit of a risk, what if we miss out? I’d like to invite you into a new way of travel, or maybe it was the way that we used to travel before we got worried about missing out on life… if we slow down and chase less, then we might have more to show than we think.
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