DEPARTURES
It's 10pm, the day before, and the normal jumble of packing is behind me. Along with my minamalist wardrobe, I have my backpack stuffed with Trader Joe's dried fruit. These omiage, gifts of arrival, are an obligatory gesture of Japanese society. Onerous for the giver, exciting for the receiver. Lest you think dried fruit common, in Japan the price tag is four times what I paid making my present and myself seem larger than life. Other sought after gifts are bottles of wine, Johnny Walker, all of which are far too heavy for my rule of: only take what 'you' can carry.
It's 10pm, the day before, and the normal jumble of packing is behind me. Along with my minamalist wardrobe, I have my backpack stuffed with Trader Joe's dried fruit. These omiage, gifts of arrival, are an obligatory gesture of Japanese society. Onerous for the giver, exciting for the receiver. Lest you think dried fruit common, in Japan the price tag is four times what I paid making my present and myself seem larger than life. Other sought after gifts are bottles of wine, Johnny Walker, all of which are far too heavy for my rule of: only take what 'you' can carry.
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