Sunday, December 2, 2007

Big world and little me

I'm not sure if it's my innate anthropologist or the smashing of preconceptions or the chance to eat unidentifiable foods but, damn, do I ever like to travel. I got back from Japan on Wednesday and the jetfog is just now receding enough for me to write a coherent blog entry. Japan did for me exactly what I had hoped -- got me out of my daily routine, rubbed and opened my metaphorical eyes and reminded me that I should not always believe everything I think. It's less a matter of finding new beliefs in whichever place I am visiting than remembering that other people don't think like me, or like Americans, or like Westerners, or with whichever group I've unconsciously been stepping in line. Oh right! Independence, free will, personal connection to the universal jim-jam! All good things.

I mostly stayed in Kyoto which was old and wise. The maple leaves were showing off their best plumage in red, orange and yellow. The shrines felt sacred and the teenagers felt like shopping. I shared a magnificent view of the city with hundreds of monkeys. I think they were over it, though. Seemed more interested in peanuts and screaming.

And I got to spend time with an old friend. Which very well may have been the best part.

If y'all want to see some photos of pretty colored leaves, along with other random items of interest, click here:



Anonymous said...

Glad to see that you are back, that the time away was rewarding, and that your spirits are up.


Dr. Kim said...

Didn't look at your pics as it is 2 in the morning, but just wanted to let you know that I think about you from time to time. This time it made me turn the light back on, come back upstairs and google you so that I could go to sleep knowing that you are doing okay. Clearly you are doing far better than that, you travel-hound genius! Keep on truckin' mama!

Spencer Douglas said...

I am SO glad you came, both for you and for me. Thank you for keeping our friendship alive!

And I'm sure those monkeys were over it!

Whose mountain is it anyway?