Bing Crosby first sang "I'll Be Home for Christmas" in 1943.
My annual pilgrimage to California for Christmas followed by the new year back in Japan always gets me thinking about "home". What is it? Where is it? Is it where you were born? Is it where you have spent the most time? Is it where you are currently residing? Or is it something more transient like the 1962 Marvin Gaye song, "Wherever I Lay My Hat (That's My Home)"?
I'm feeling more and more like a Kyoto-jin, a Kyotoite in English (I think). Kyoto is a city of manageable scale and tempo. 827.8 km² (514 miles²). 1.475 million people. There is space. I can breathe. I like it. When I leave Kyoto, I miss it.
Three hours in Tokyo en route to Narita Airport and I'm vaguely annoyed and slightly bored. I don't know this anymore, this kind of city. I've lost my urban sense, my urban joy. The hustle and bustle of the big city. I was intoxicated by this as a young man. Now it seems to be somehow pointless. Tokyo is imposing, glamorous, fast and furious, but for what, why? Where is it going, the people, where are they going at such a pace? Everyone trying so hard.
It's not too difficult to find peace and quiet in Kyoto, especially this time of year. And what is home, if not a place to find a little peace and quiet.
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