A Year In Atlanta: Home, Community, and Work

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Magic Is Something You Make

My journal cover exclaims, “Magic is something you make.” It has been a year and a week since I returned to Atlanta. The moments I recorded in my journal attest to the magic and mayhem of my making. The past week in review speaks to the efforts of the year. On Tuesday, April 11, 2023, I led 15 hungry cyclists to my favorite Indian restaurant in Decatur. That Thursday, I added a third bookshelf to the collection at my townhouse. On Saturday, by dumb chance and good luck, I spent an afternoon sailing Lake Lanier with friends. Finally, I joined local Bike Grid enthusiasts for a slow roll up Peachtree Street Sunday. The magic is ON, and I continue to cast a few designs forward.

Bikers Can Boat

On April 11, 2022, I shipped my collection of old journals and mementos from my ex-boyfriend’s apartment in Tokyo to my mother’s home in Tucker. Shortly after that, at customs & control in Narita, I turned in my Japanese residence card. Then, with both anxiety and goals as carry-ons, I set off to my hometown. My three-prong goals for Atlanta were: to make a home, participate in the community, and to do meaningful work. Here are my thoughts on a few critical magic milestones from this return.

1. Home

For the first five months of my return, I took up a garden-facing room at my mother’s house. Over the pandemic and in Japan, I had longed for an oven. Beyond that, my ideas of home were transformed by my experience going from a 1,100 square foot house (Bluffton, South Carolina) to a 200 square foot efficiency (Suginami-ku, Tokyo). The Atlanta I returned to was (is?) in a white-hot housing market. Things were expensive and going fast. I wanted something cozy and inside the perimeter.

Eventually, I bought a townhouse in a Chamblee-area community to store my books and souvenirs. In this complex, I can hear birds chirp from nearby woods while I drink coffee in the mornings. On the grounds in the rear of the property is a park that follows a creek that later connects to more water. This place is a great place to get my footing.

2. Community

In pre-COVID Tokyo, I was part of a thriving international community of ex-pats. My social silence grew as our gathering spaces and social outlets diminished post-Pandemic. I missed eavesdropping in the grocery line and making conversations with strangers. On returning to America, I looked forward to creating and being in community again.

Desi Decatur Ride

Through a CouchSurfing(CS) event last summer, I made friends with a group of the Atlanta cycling community. Through group riding here, I have found another sort of home. Atlanta by bike looks different. I began to appreciate the nitty-gritty needs for cycle infrastructure. On the Beltline, cruising through the newly connected areas of Atlanta, it is much easier to see historically underfunded areas in the grip of gentrification. My cyclist amigos share a sense of civic duty. We made good chit-chat with a city official on our Sunday ride. As we deepen community relationships through fun and advocacy, I suspect I will continue to appreciate the new takes on Atlanta.

 

 

3. Meaningful Work

When I left the US in 2017, I was tired of the direct services legal work I had been doing in southern Georgia (across the river from Bluffton, SC, where I lived at the time). Thankfully, the sabbatical from law practice (and respite from Trump) brought me a new way to examine my professional capabilities. From there, I found joy in teaching, coaching, and consulting.

Along the Beltline

Time in Tokyo also transformed what I dared to envision for Atlanta (granted, Atlanta may never be as progressive. It sits in red Georgia, after all.) Upon my return last year, I started attending seminars at the intersection of housing and justice. I volunteered for a conference where I met GSU Professor and Housing Scholar Dan Immergluck and got a copy of his book Red Hot City. Atlanta’s car-centeredness points to the complex interplay of transport, housing, and access. In another seminar, I crossed paths with an old Atlanta CS friend who was Dan’s student and just finished his master’s in urban studies. At such a seminar, I learned about the movement to Stop Cop City. Finally, through the right partnerships, I feel lucky to have identified work for a community-based small-scale developer in Atlanta bringing affordable housing to under-developed parts of the city.

4. Tough Stuff

One of the most challenging parts of my move has been the saga of my journals. Since age 7, I have intermittently written words in journals to deal with life, changes, and reflections. In Tokyo, I took on the task of reading and notating about 25 lbs of handwritten diaries. Unfortunately, those journals I sent from Japan last year did not make it to Tucker—thanks to the US Postal Service. Then, to add salt to the wound, my family lost three generations of jewelry in a burglary from my mother’s home around Christmas time. As I figure out how to carry these losses, I am grateful that I can still appreciate what is in front of me now.

Boats or Bikes?

From my complex’s backwoods, we can eventually get to Briarcliff Road. My family has lived on various parts of this road during our 30+ years in Atlanta. If you take Briarcliff Road and travel on it south, you can eventually see the changes brought about by the Beltline. In a sense, I rode back home without knowing precisely what it would bring.

Opening up to a breeze can refresh your room or your life. The capacity to restore is at the heart of my beliefs and hopes about home. To live as you dream requires determination. It helps to have supporters and to build in community. Reflecting on the intermittent roller coaster of the last year, I feel blessed to have found a warm sense of community. After long perseverance, I am engaged in work that I believe makes the world a better place. Finally, as I continue my personal mission of flourishing to the bounds of my human potential, I hope to make more time to write and share as I organize, educate, and empower.

Fun with Flowers

Italy in the Rear View, Reminiscing to Fully Enjoy Travel: Part 3 of 3

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Teatro Alla Scala: Closed

In early March 2020, I found myself unwittingly in Milan as the pandemic lockdowns began there. I completed a three-week adventure through southern Italy, and Milan was the last stop on my way back to Japan. My former beau and I flew from Sicily to Milan on a Saturday, the last day domestic flights were allowed into Milan. Two days later, we were meant to fly to Tokyo. Those strange and glorious days left a memorable impression. Many other tourists had left Milan when the city-wide lockdown took effect. As we toured the city on bikes, Milan felt quiet and subdued. At that time, I had no idea that cross-border travel would become much more difficult. Three weeks after I arrived in Tokyo, the U.S. Embassy there sent out an ominous message asking Americans to either leave Japan or plan on staying in Japan indefinitely.

Take My Breath Away, Amalfi Coast

 

During this pandemic, then, I have been doing less suitcase packing and a bit more contemplation. I am grateful for my past adventures within this window of less moving. I mindfully re-live and rejoice in old travels. I am convinced that this capacity to feel gratitude is directly related to our ability to enjoy life in general. After my most meaningful trips, I am grateful for new experiences, intriguing trinkets, new human connections, and the chance to learn a new perspective. For me, this is the third way to enjoy travel fully. As I reflect and reminisce on travels past, I appreciate: (1) moments of surprise, (2) physical mementos, (3) human connections, and (4) perspectives gleaned. This after-adventure pause, with mindful gratitude, is a life-affirming practice.

Shortly after I returned to Tokyo from Italy, the Japanese began to take the pandemic seriously. I was asked to work from home. Social events went on hiatus. Restaurants closed early. Bars were completely shuttered; music venues went mute. With nowhere to go for a while, I reflected on my glorious Italian experience. I had planned well and found flow in my time in Italy. Now, I was in my third phase of travel joy: the remembrances.

 

1. Cherish Moments of Surprise

On this trip to Italy, I traveled with my British beau (the first boyfriend to join me abroad). On a few occasions, I observed our styles were different. I could eat at any time; he seemed never to get hungry. Eventually, Italian food broke his restraint. But our first (and only) spat during dating was based very squarely on the capacity to enjoy the moment.

Boat Joy

After insisting that we should watch the sunset from the island of Syracuse (as opposed to returning to our Airbnb so he could send emails), a tense yelling match ensued. Finally, we agreed. We would NOT leave before the sunset. After this, he bought me a truce-gelato, and we walked along an ancient bridge toward a marina in the old town. By pure luck, my eye caught a boat captain rigging a small vessel to take out into the water. I inadvertently smiled at the captain, and he smiled back. Then, he signaled us over to join his voyage. In retrospect, this unplanned boat ride was one of the highlights of our trip. After our domestic tension, a boat ride was just the salve we needed. The captain was taking another couple around the island and into a few caves. We luckily tagged along. This memory ended up being one of our favorite moments. It reminded us how important it is to keep the eyes and the heart open during travel (and also in life).

2. Momentos & Knick-Knacks

Over the years, I have moved between many homes and apartments. Carrying about your things is an excellent reminder that less is more. When I travel, I tend to pack light. As a minimalist, I have become much more selective about the trinkets I bring home. From significant to small, my main criterion is that the item is relevant to the local culture. Eiffel tower key chains do not meet my definition. In some places, a sticker feels more appropriate than a knick-knack!

Naples Takes Art Seriously

One of my favorite things to pick up is local art. In Italy, there is no shortage of local arts and crafts. In Naples, hip street art adorns dilapidated buildings. Along a pedestrian path, we saw an artist selling her watercolor paintings. Both my boyfriend and I loved the style of her work. He purchased an image for each of us. Her work was unique, and I began to follow the artist on Instagram. This way, I could see the artist’s progression and keep a loose connection with our chance encounter.

Mermaid Floating in Frame

On the day before our return to Japan, I also picked up a pair of suede boots in Milan. Each time I wore them in Tokyo. I was grateful for the small splurge. Now that I am in Atlanta, I have framed my Napoli mermaid with blue and gold. In this small way, I remember my adventures. Both the boots and the art were chance purchases. Still, they have now morphed with meaning. It reminded me how lovely it was to prance around Italy before the pandemic changed our world.

 

3. Human Connections

“Do not talk to strangers” is easily the worst advice I have ever heard. Whether traveling, at a networking event or doing mundane errands, I love chatting with people. Many former strangers are now my friends. I believe each individual holds some unique perspective within them; it is a matter of talking through their reservations. Thus, when I travel, I become slightly more extroverted. I want to connect with locals and hear the inside scoop. In some instances, even after I have left a place, some of those human connections keep me in touch with an adventure.

Our Dinner Came from a Generous Heart

A caring stranger met us at lunch on our last full day in Milan. For our final restaurant meal in Italy, we went to a back-to-basics lunch café. Handmade pasta and simple ingredients with a classic feel were on the menu. As we chatted with the waitress, we learned we were her only foreign tourists in the last two weeks. We expressed our surprise about the lockdown and learned from her that restaurants in Milan would be closed after that afternoon. Our waitress inquired about the amenities at our hotel. She was genuinely worried about what we would have for dinner. On our way out, she gifted us dinner to go. She separately packed a container of pasta, marinara sauce, and fresh basil to prepare at our Airbnb. Her kindness and dedication left a warm glow. I followed her restaurant on Facebook afterward. Unfortunately, the café ended up closing down during the pandemic. But her act of kindness left long reverberations.

4. The Exchange of Ideas

The most important reason I love to travel is that I return to my `default` life with a changed perspective. For example, I learned a whole new way to live in Tokyo. For the first time ever, I found city living enjoyable! My quality of life was enhanced by being car-free. My lifestyle with a smaller home and more recycling was more sustainable. I left Japan eager to reform American car bloat and with a desire to promote pluralism through better design.

 

War Torn and Proud Naples

 

While my visit to Italy was much shorter, I still left with new ideas about thoroughly enjoying life. Naples, for example, was war-torn after WW2 and yet, it still holds on to the pride of its days of glory. Buildings partially destroyed stand tall. Graffiti, murals, and posters decorate and scream with fight and spirit. In the small town of Sapri, I noticed how couples walked the promenade in the late afternoon. They elevated the act of watching the sky change colors dressed in their Sunday best. In Milan, though restaurants were closed, Italians could not be separated from their pizza. A line of cyclists’ couriers waited for takeout orders in front of pizzerias.

Sweet Memories

This practice of keeping good memories in the front of our minds is a key to getting through tough times. Nostalgia, recollection, and appreciation can be a nourishing afterglow of travel. I have often noticed that good memories are essential for keeping us upbeat. In many moments, my moods ebb and flow. Having pleasant and meaningful travel memories makes looking forward to better days easier. Between frequently depressed people and those more resilient to the changing tides, I notice this capacity to reflect and enjoy the past. It is a practice I have keyed into and one I aim to hone.

 

Thank you for reading. May your travels also bring you sweet recollections.

How to travel Japan without being a douchebag

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A few days ago, I arrived in Japan to complete some errands before turning in my residence card. The entry procedures for returning residents are demanding. Casual tourists are not yet welcome. Still, I hear from blog readers and friends that Japan is their number one travel destination. To them, I dedicate this post. Eventually, Japan will open to tourists again. As I have recently re-arrived, these travel pointers are fresh in my mind.

The Exalted Mount Fuji, Pexels.com

The Golden Rule

There are many layers to visiting Japan. Most important for a traveler is the understanding that this is a high-context culture. It is a conservative society; people are reserved, and personal lives are pretty private. Keep this in mind while you move about here. Realize that your actions have repercussions on future travelers. The internet is full of people being assholes in Japan. I hope you are NOT a cringe-worthy westerner; we need no more Aaron Paul’s walking through Tokyo traffic. Essentially, think of the golden rule: don’t be an asshole.

I initially came here on the JET program. The position carries with it the goal of forging bonds with foreign countries. Of course, this speaks to my attitude towards travel. I see meaningful travel as part of growing bridges across cultures. The way I see it, people in different parts of the world are simply brothers and sisters from another mother. See your visit as an opportunity to be a cultured traveler and an ambassador. To better understand how to interact in social situations, I recommend this excellent Etiquette guide for Japan.

For more specific tips, here is my list below:

1. Prepare to Love Public Transportation

Going the Distance

After working your way through the airport, you will choose to take a cab or public ground transportation. Sooner than later, you will need to take a train. Japanese trains are unlike their American counterpart; they are clean, punctual, and pleasant to ride. I recommend getting a chargeable IC or Pasmo card on your first opportunity. It requires a 500-yen deposit, and then you can charge it as needed. I would go ahead and load it with at least 5,000 yen (about USD 50). Pasmo also works with Apple Pay.

You will want to keep your card easily accessible as you need it to swipe into and out of the turnstile each time you change train lines. Also, even if you have a JR pass (see below), having credit on your card will make getting through non-JR train stations much more manageable. Finally, your vacation time is precious; avoid missing a connecting train because you had to buy an individual train ticket during rush hour (and had to wait in line behind a family of five foreigners who wanted to use exact change). Keep your card charged, and you should be good to go.

Being car-free was one of my favorite things about living here, and it is a fabulous way to get a natural feel for Japanese life. Lastly, along with the public transport note, a good pair of walking shoes are worth their weight in gold. Even with train journeys, a day of sightseeing can easily climb past the 10,000+ step mark. So make sure your feet are ready for the adventure.

2. Do your research

Early in my stay here, an American couple came to visit Tokyo. To help them plan, I asked Anne (name changed to hide embarrassment) what she wanted to do. She said, “Can’t we just do the touristy stuff?” Ugh, I am not sure what constitutes the “touristy stuff.” I would not choose to travel like that. However, if you value your time, make an effort to do some research. The city of Tokyo is akin to an enormous adult playground: red-light districts, temples & shrines, amusement parks, aquariums, shopping malls, and gardens and historical sites are spread out over 2,194.07 km.2 (Some estimates suggest it would take seven days to walk across the city. The breadth of options is no joke. Do the basics and know which rides you would like to take.

The Night Comes On, Pexels.com

How will you decide whether to get the JR pass or which phone service to get? Depending on the purpose and length of your trip, the best option will vary. For sorting out logistics, like which Wi-Fi plan to choose or good day trips into the countryside, I recommend the articles at Tokyo Cheapo. Don’t let the name dissuade you; it is not about being cheap. It is about finding value. Their pieces help you make good decisions through well-researched and thought-out information. For a calendar of shows and events, I would suggest TimeOut. Their knowledge of music, special exhibitions, and culture is spot on.

3. Stay a Few Beats Off-Center

Inokashira Koen, My Go-To Park on the Westside

Many people are very eager to get right into the thick of the Tokyo hubbub. I find myself overwhelmed by the intense urbanization of Tokyo. Although there’s so much excitement in inner Tokyo, some areas are almost too busy. If you are in Shinjuku, Kabuki-cho, or Harajuku, plan on constantly having noise and traffic around you.  

Since transportation is excellent, you can easily stay a neighborhood away and have a great time. So I would pick an off-center place to stay while you explore. For example, slightly off the center of Tokyo, I like the neighborhood of Nishihara or Yoyogi-Koen. Even further west is my old stomping ground around Kichijoji, with Inokashira park next to it. For me, that is a perfect balance of liveliness and a touch of nature. These residential areas have restaurants and nightlife. As a bonus, you will see children playing in the park and hear birds in the foreground during daylight hours.

4. Pay attention

Matcha Preparation, Pexels.com

The one way to be a douchebag in Japan is to be oblivious to the world around you. The Japanese love organization and procedures. There is a “right way” to do everything, from the tea ceremony steps to boarding the train, or standing in line. It would do you good to pay attention to those around you. When you sit down to eat a meal, notice how others around you are paying, ordering, and even behaving. If something comes off as disturbing other diners, it is not unheard of to be gently informed by the staff. For another example, you’ll notice that there aren’t many trash cans on the streets of Tokyo. However, if you buy something at the convenience store and consume it there or right outside, it’s easy to dispose of trash at that same convenience store. There are trash cans there just for that very purpose. Avoid throwing your trash on the street or shoving it into a shop’s window display. That is just douchebaggery.

If you are coming to visit Japan, these few pointers will help you make the best of your time here and avoid big faux pas. Enjoy the overwhelming and all-encompassing experience of this unique place. Your trip will leave you in awe and could even inspire a shift in your worldview.

Tokyo Ground: Japanese Manhole Cover Designs

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This is the cover for a firefighter’s water cistern in Kichijoji, Tokyo.

Bureaucrats are not known for creating trends. In Japan, however, a clever public funding move opened the door to some uniquely Japanese manhole art. Here in Japan,  a bureaucrat suggested creating designs for manhole covers in an effort to generate public funding for sewer upgrades. The construction industry minister in question, Yasutake Kameda, should be remembered as a creative PR strategist. Today, Japanese manhole covers are a source of artistic inspiration and community.

After the Second World War, Japan underwent an upgrade to its sewer systems. In order to get up to speed, the government wanted towns to pay for the modernization of sewers. It was a costly endeavor, and officials were tasked with coming up with a plan to raise money for the upgrades. Municipalities were happy to pay for decorated manhole covers. Thanks to Mr. Kameda’s suggestion for decorative sewer covers, a unique public art aesthetic was born.

Naha in Okinawa is believed to have the first decorative manhole cover design, created in 1977.  By the 1980s, manhole covers were all the rage. Now, there are approximately 12,000 manhole designs across Japan, with nearly 95% of municipalities having their own special manhole cover designs. A dedicated factory manufactures these gorgeous covers. Take a look at the Japanese Manhole video from “WAORYU! ONLY in JAPAN” for a detailed description of the unique manufacturing process of these 50-kg chunks of pure metal. Manhole covers, while elegant, are heavy! It is amazing to watch these barren slabs come to life when they are hand-filled with vibrant colors by dedicated artists. Creative attention to detail really has no limit in Japan.

It was my passion for flowers that initially led me to notice Tokyo’s ubiquitous sakura manhole covers. In April 2020, I was a bit bummed that the COVID pandemic essentially stole the hanami season. This year, the public parks in Tokyo prohibited the annual gatherings of large groups under the cherry blossom trees. As I walked around Tokyo on my own instead, I found myself looking down at the streets. I started to notice that this metal sakura flower kept showing up. Sometimes it was on asphalt, other times on concrete. It is from there that I became curious about the other sewer covers. From there, thanks to the internet, I fell down a rabbit hole of manhole mania.

The designs featured on Japanese manhole covers vary greatly based on their location. Many motifs are based on famous cultural sights or a prefecture’s flora and fauna. Around Mt. Fuji, for example, many cities include vistas of the renowned mountain in the background. Some views are of Mt. Fuji seen across a bay or behind a train line. Japan’s favorite flower, the cherry blossom, is also found on an enormous number of manhole covers. Typical Japanese landscapes, festival scenes, and boats are other common motifs. Contemporary manhole cover designs include anime characters, Hello Kitty, and other popular mascots.

In recent years, there is a growing trend bringing the community together around a passion for manhole covers. In the Tokyo area, an annual event unites enthusiasts to walk through streets looking for manhole covers. One enthusiast, Mr. Hidekazu Yamada, created a spectacular deck of manhole cover cards in 2016. Each card in the deck features a specific manhole cover with GPS coordinates. On the back of each card, the history and significance of the cover design are explained. Even fancy Japanese department stores have caught the manhole cover bug. In 2019, Shinjuku’s Takashimaya held an exhibition highlighting some fun designs.

Of course, leave it to Japan to create an array of manhole cover products. If you missed your chance to pick up manhole cover goods in person, Tokyo Ground has you covered! Infrastructure geekdom is a thing in Japan, and the minutiae of the sewer hole covers make them an aesthetic way to celebrate Japan in its typical weird and wonderful way. Our product designs are fun celebrations of this unique art. Whether you are lounging at home with your family or video-conferencing your co-workers, Tokyo Ground designs will leave an impression, and you will enjoy explaining your choice of design to those less well-informed!

For T-shirts, as of April 15, 2021, suspended the store. If you are super keen on a T, message me directly.

https://www.instagram.com/tokyogrounddesigns/

This article was previously published here: https://issuu.com/ajetconnect/docs/connect_october_issue_2020/40?fbclid=IwAR1xfzt8JW2cL7eJ7KvYrCadN6LMe_TAVpQsSN3PfUc-cc1WxuN4XnXpL_o