Learning the taste of love in an old Kyoto folk house.

Having set foot on Japanese soil for the first time in a year, I was starving for the Japanese language. 'Starving' is the expression that fits best. I hadn't realized I was so hungry to exchange words. It didn't matter if no one paid me any mind. I just wanted to let my voice out from my throat.

My journey across Japan began in Kyoto.
I walked through the old-fashioned cobblestone streets of Gion and the back alleys lined with atmospheric townhouses. For me, having traveled through Asia, this was not a place I could call 'home.' I still couldn't take off the title of 'traveler.'

In the midst of that, I chose 'Uno House,' a guesthouse renovated from an old Kyoto folk house. At the time, it was 1,650 yen per night. The smell of the tatami mats was nostalgic. The large room where we laid out futons to sleep was filled with travelers from various countries and some rather eccentric Japanese people.

I am usually quiet and shy.
The old me would never have even considered speaking to someone I had just met. However, there was an ease to the atmosphere of this inn that made it easy to talk. Even with broken English or gestures, all that mattered was the passion to convey something.
Every night, various languages flew about the living room, and passionate conversations unfolded. I joined the circle and talked enthusiastically.

I spoke with a woman named Nanae who had come from Hokkaido on a solo trip. She said she would continue her journey by boat from there. We drank Starbucks coffee together and hit it off talking about trivial things. I continued to exchange postcards with her for several years after that.

I learned a lot of useful English for travel from Hiroko-san, who was going to Belgium. Among them, I learned that 'so so' is a very useful phrase for Japanese people traveling abroad.
Since Japanese people are a culture that avoids definitive statements, this phrase, which allows for an ambiguous response when foreigners ask, 'How was that?', is like magic.

There was Tomita-san, a super career woman who engaged in heated discussions about business. A Polish woman who joked that she was going to Onigashima next. And from a woman who spoke Portuguese and had decided to live in Kyoto after marrying a Brazilian, I asked all sorts of questions about why she chose to be with a Brazilian.

I spent the whole day walking around Kyoto and enjoying a sightseeing date with a girl from Shizuoka (sorry, I forgot her name) who had come for an interview to work at a kimono shop in Kyoto. That night, a tipsy Sacchan suddenly suggested in the living room, 'Hey, want to play the Pocky game?' As we ate from either side, our lips eventually touched. There was an awkward, yet not entirely unwelcome atmosphere. Such sweet moments also existed in this inn.

I think I stayed at this inn for three weeks because that time was just so much fun. Exchanging words. Perhaps it was an act of regaining the humanity I had almost lost during my travels. At Uno House, I learned once again the joy of exchanging words and connecting hearts.

The people I met at this inn were all traveling through their own lives. Sharing those fleeting moments was an irreplaceable treasure.

—Ah, once again, I soliloquize in a strange land.