First Time In Japan— 30 Years Apart
A conversation on a Japanese train in August 2015
I sat inside the Shinkansen with my face almost pressed against the window, trying to see everything the train passed by at its high speed. The small villages and rice fields sitting at the foot of forest-covered mountains reminded me of the Ghibli movies I had watched growing up.
My dad and I were on our way to Kyoto after spending five days in Tokyo. It had only been a few days, but I had already been charmed by the country.
I turned to my dad, who sat next to me, reading a book.
“Isn’t it stunning,” I said and pointed to the landscape outside the window. My dad looked up from his book and nodded.
“Yes, it’s incredible,” he agreed. “But the scenery looks even more beautiful when you’re up in the mountains.”
“When have you ever been in the Japanese mountains?”
I had a hard time believing that my dad would have had enough time to experience the Japanese countryside during his many business trips to the country.
He put down his book and started telling me a story. A story about his fascination for Japan as a teenager and about his first time in Japan 30 years ago.
