The Clouds in Japan are Different

The clouds in Japan are beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. They look just like they do in the old woodblock prints you'll see of Mt. Fuji from the 1800's, perfectly flat on the bottom and curly all the way up to a triangular peak. This, I find truly amazing. I had always assumed this stylized depiction was purely a romantic liberty taken by the artists themselves, surely nothing was as lovely, or as quaint, as the appearance of the clouds in these old images. Yet here they are right in front of me, absolutely beautiful, absolutely real and I am absolutely astonished. Maybe Japan is as quaint as it appears.

But then again, maybe not. As we descend through the air I am mesmerized by the landscape. I am just close enough to make out signs of life below: pockets of forested trees, swatches of farmland, houses, pools, big buildings and the roadways that intersect it all. "Oh, there are people down there, doing people things," I think with over zealous excitement. How exciting to approach new lands and see new ways of doing common things, like driving on the right and shifting with your left hand and whatever else we share but don't share. But the thing is that the closer we get and the more I can see, all I can think is "This looks like New Jersey."

I don't know if the slowing voice of disappointment is captured in this virtual text, but it was definitely there. New Jersey? How can Japan - quaint, idyllic, little-Japanese-people Japan look just like New Jersey? I feel displaced and at home all at once and I feel disappointed and reassured at the same time and I'm pretty certain that every inch of me is entirely alive.