What is home?
Arrival in Tokyo after a 13 hour flight from Toronto. I slept most of the way because I had no sleep the night before, packing and getting ready for the trip, watched a few movies, and practiced my broken Japanese with a mother and daughter team who sat beside me and had very little English.
Two taste memories I will remember today.
A lovely meal at the Ootoya restaurant in Tokyo that is perfect for a good reasonably priced meal. Most people eating there were solo so you don’t feel uncomfortable going in alone and I love the food. It is a chain and the brand is more upscale in New York.
My friend Makiko met me at the Shinjuku train station (I took the efficient limousine bus from Haneda to Shinjuku). She was there to meet me and help me with my luggage. I had a lot of luggage for the photo shoot for my book on Canadian vegan cuisine that is being published in Japan. She helped me get a cab to my apartment and bring up my luggage.
Makiko also left me a home made breakfast of miso soup, onigiri rice balls and pickles. Comfort food for most Japanese. In my exhausted state I thanked her but I appreciated it even more when I woke up at 4 a.m. and was jet lagged and starving.
I am touched by the kindness and generosity of friends and strangers, especially when I travel. There is nothing like being away from home and being made to feel like you are home.
What is home anyway?
I ask myself this question often.
I don’t have a home these days because I sold most of my belongings from my previous lives, put what I had left in a 2 x 6 foot locker at my last location, and left to travel and write.
Home to me now means a place where you are welcomed with love and comfort, and often good food is part of this.
This is home today.
Originally published at Caroline Ishii.
