I’m in Kyoto again.
Right after I got back from the US, hesitant as I was due to jetlag, I kept my long-time promise and returned to Kyoto after a year’s time.
Kyoto feels like a faraway place when in Seoul, yet getting off the plane after an hour and ten minutes, I feel closer to Kyoto as if I were here yesterday. Coming back to Kyoto after such a long time, and thinking about the US where I had just come from, I cannot help but compare the two countries. While the US feels more familiar to me as I have lived there longer, taking into account the 15-hour flight to get there, I have a hunch that I will be coming to Japan more often. Coming from gloomy Seoul, I feel like Japan is an entirely different world. The whole country is bustling with excitement; the Tokyo Olympics, to which everyone has devoted their hearts and souls, is drawing near; the economy is booming with an abundance of jobs and small workforce; and just a few days ago, Osaka was selected as the venue for Expo 2025. Looking back on my time in the US, I realize that for four weeks I hadn’t encountered a single Caucasian working in a store or a restaurant while in New York or Washington DC. Granted, the country is the “United” States of America; but I could really feel the growing number of Hispanics, African Americans and Asians. It is said that the number of non-white ethnicities has eclipsed that of white ethnicities; it is somehow understandable why Trump is crying out for anti-immigration policies and “America First”. Here in Japan as well, the congress is arguing over whether the workers coming from abroad should be considered as immigrants or not. In fact, most of the staff here at the hotel are foreigners. Kyoto, with a population of 1.2 million, is flooded at the end of November with people gathering to enjoy the autumn colors. And Japan is also absorbing the Chinese travelers who shun Seoul due to the THAAD issue.
I am staying in Gion - Kyoto’s Myungdong, so to speak. Yet the difference is that Gion reserves the rich history which has already been lost in Myungdong. Gion treasures the history of 1,000 years amidst its bustling atmosphere. In addition to all the Chinese and Koreans, I see a lot of Westerners with blond hair. In Insadong, near my Seoul residence, I have nothing to buy, even when I want to spend money; but here, these people are willing to open their purse, even when they are trying to restrain themselves. People from all over the world are walking by together on this peculiar, yet universally charming street. You tend to get sick of things after a while, no matter how beautiful or great they are;
yet why do I never get tired of this place? Walking down the street, I ponder this question and come to this answer: it’s history. It’s the depth of history. A stone lantern in a house that looks shabby and unassuming, and the deeply engraved grain of history there; perhaps people are instinctively attracted by that which they cannot see. | 