First Impressions

A great adventure is characterized by its obstacles. This is why my preference is not to seek comfort, but to journey through a place with eyes unfiltered. Five star hotels certainly have their value, but I would rather get to know the culture of a place at the level where people are living it. In general, I also believe most major cities are inherently the same, with minor differences representing the country they're in. If you spend enough time meandering through skyscrapers while serious-looking men in dark suits shuffle by, your specific coordinates begin to matter less.

All of that said, Tokyo is unique. It's unique in how crowded it is. This place experiences rush hour every second of every day. I've been to crowded cities before - Hong Kong, New York, New Delhi, Buenos Aires - and I haven't seen anything quite like this before. The sheer quantity of people moving around all at once is mindblowing. Fortunately the Japanese seem to have adjusted to this quite well, as each and every one of them walks with a destination in mind, and rarely do collisions occur. Thirty million people occupy this massive city, and it feels like each of them are out on the streets competing for the same space on the sidewalk as me.

The best part about walking through Harajuku is bumping into absolutely everybody

My assumption was that, given the amount of business to be done and the lack of space to do it, Tokyo would come across as a cold, unfriendly city. In a short amount of time I have found the complete opposite to be true. The Japanese are insanely courteous and respectful of one another regardless of where on the social hierarchy they fall. Bowing and deference are as alive today as they ever were, with "Arigatou gozaimasu" uttered at every opportunity.

So far I am quite enjoying myself in getting to know the flavor of this place. More soon!

The Beast Within

Wanderlust is that poisonous, terminal affliction that courses through your body and drives your spirit. Wanderlust is that whispered voice inside your head the reminds you never to settle, never to stop trying, even when all you want to do is quit.

Wanderlust is that beast at your heels forcing you to keep searching, to open yourself to the world, and no not just the small comfortable bubble of a world you've created around yourself, but to every landscape, language, and culture imaginable.

It can destroy you, especially when you choose not to feed it. It's that rare disease where the more you try to get rid of it, the stronger it gets. When 10 days abroad is suddenly no longer enough, and you find yourself thirsting for the open road, then you have let Wanderlust in. It consumes your mind like a fire, and in return you embody it. You feel it creeping up from your toes to your chest, begging you to satiate it. It doesn't care that you need a job and have a family, because its sole desire is to get you to understand that the universe is endless.

When I got on the plane this morning to begin my first adventure to Japan, the only thing on my mind was my job security, my failed relationships, and what I will be missing over the next few days. I stared out the airplane window into the San Francisco fog, wondering what people thought of me, the struggles of moving into a new apartment, and where my career will take me.

But this disease...this affliction that makes me daydream of far off places when I should be working reared its head. With a snarl, Wanderlust opened my eyes and my mind to the journey before me, and saved my very soul. It reminded me that I deserve to ask for what I want and to always strive for more.

That which ails me is now curing me, contextualizing the trivial problems of my everyday life relative to this great beautiful world.  When your soul is crushed, your heart broken, and your dreams seem unreachable, Wanderlust will be there. It will hold your hand, tell you everything will be alright, and remind you that its okay to fail. All you have to do is stand up and try again.