
Beneath Lucy's sky, I met the deer of Nara.ãLucyã®ç©ºã®äžãå¥è¯ã®é¹¿ã«åºäŒã£ãã
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Why do people love traveling? Why do they sometimes say that everyone should travel at least once in their life?
I don't know. These questions are too difficult for me to answer.
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If I were wiser, or if I were some extraordinary person blessed with eternal life, perhaps I could find an answer through a vast imagination. But I am neither wise nor extraordinary. I am simply one person living a small life, trying to understand the world from where I stand.
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Perhaps that is why I cannot fully understand the desire to travel.
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I need to confess something about my real life.
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äºããããããããšæ±ããŠããããã€ããã£ãšçããèŠã€ããã ãããšããã£ãšãã®ãŸãŸã«çœ®ããããªãåé¡ãããã€ãçºããŠããã
I am an older woman who lives with her partner. I love silence and need long hours of quiet almost every day. Like everyone else, I have many problems that still need to be solved.
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人ã«ãªã£ãããã ã
One day, however, we traveled to Nara and Kyoto to visit famous shrines and temples. It was a truly wonderful experience. For a while, we were able to forget our important but tiresome worries. We became travelers, disconnected from our ordinary lives and the troubles that usually occupied our minds.
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幞ããšã¯ããã£ãããšãªã©ãã¯ã¹ããæèŠãäœã湿ããæ·±ãåŒåžãéææš¡æ§ã®æ¶ãçªç¶ã®ã»ã»ç¬ã¿ãã»ã»ç¬ã¿ã¯ãããããããããŸã²ã£ãã¿ããŸãããããããã»ãã®ã ãããšã®äŒè©±ãã»ãã®èª°ããããªãããããã¯ã»ãã®èª°ãã«èšãããšãåºæ¥ãªãå Žåã¯èªåèªèº«ãšã®å¯Ÿè©±ããã©ã³ãã«åºããã³ã«èã¶ããã»ããã«ããããªããªãªãŒãã®èã¯ãŸã äœããé¢šã«æºããæã¯ãªã«ããéœæ°ã«ããããèžããæ¿ç·ã®å€§ããªèãšèã®ã¯ããŸã«é¡ãåºãçæ°ããæ°ç·ã®èã¯ãã³ãžã£ãã³ã®é¢ã ãæããããæªãããç§ã®èšæ¶ãã²ãšã³ãšã®èšæ¶ã
I have several hobbies that bring me happiness. To me, happiness means a relaxed mind, a deep breath, transparent tears, smiles that suddenly appear and disappear, conversations with others and with myself, my beloved olive tree and benjamin plant, songs that comfort me, and both good and bad memories.
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In other words, happiness is everything that I need and cherish until the day I die.
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Today I would like to write about some beautiful experiences I had in Nara that were connected to the foreign visitors I met there. "Met" may not be the right word. Sometimes I only saw them, heard their voices, or exchanged a few simple words with them. Yet they left good impressions on me.
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峿žé€šå¡ããã鳿¥œãããã³ããæ£ããåŒã£åŒµãåºããŠããããBeatlesã ãLucy in The Sky With Diamondsãããæ±å€§å¯ºã®äžã«ã¯ãæŽãæž¡ã£ãLucyã®ç©ºããã«ã¿ããã«ãã£ãããããšãã ããã«ãããããã¯å€§ä»æ§ãšåãã倧仿§ãããããæ°žé ã«ãã ããã«åšãã®ã ã£ãã
That day, the sky was incredibly high and perfectly blue, as if it had been painted by an artist. It was not a deep blue. Rather, it reminded me of a sky from memoryâa sky that belongs to a Beatles song, "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds."
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Beneath Lucy's sky, I met the deer of Nara.
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People say that deer are messengers of the gods. The messengers of Nara have deep black eyes. At first glance, those eyes seem to hold no expression at all. Or perhaps they are simply too deep for us to understand what lies within them.
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The deer seemed completely at home among travelers, especially foreign travelers. Sometimes I felt they were even more accustomed to foreigners than to ordinary Japanese visitors like myself.
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When a deer bowed, the foreign visitors bowed back. When the visitors bowed, the deer bowed again. They exchanged bows again and again, and then the visitors smiled with peaceful delight.
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I loved those scenes.
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There were visitors from many different countries. They must have come from many different cultures and backgrounds. Yet at least one thing united them: their attitude toward the deer of Nara, wandering freely through the vast park.
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As you may know, Japan has countless shrines and temples. At many of them, visitors can receive beautiful vermilion stamps and black calligraphy, written by hand in front of them by skilled attendants. We call these sacred inscriptions goshuin.
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Collecting goshuin has become one of my favorite hobbies.
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客ã¯å€§ä»ããŸã®ãå§¿ã«èŠæããããªã«ãèšããã説æãè¬çŸ©ãæãã¿ããªã«ã瀺ããã倧ä»ããŸã¯å€©ã«å±ããããªãã®å·šå€§ãªåº§ãããå§¿ã§ãã©ãã ãã®æãéå¯ããŸãšãããã®å Žæã«ããã£ãããã®ã ãããæ±å€§å¯ºã«åº§ããæ¥æ¬ãšããåœã®ãã€ããããæŽå²ãåã«çºããŠããã®ããèŠå®ã£ãŠããã®ããã©ããåããŠããã®ãã人éã®èè¶³ããã®èšèã§ããã«ã€ããŠèãç¶ããããšãããããããã¯äžå¯èœã ã
In Nara, at the famous Todai-ji, visitors can meet the Great Buddha. He is immense, towering above us in silence. For centuries he has remained there, quietly watching the long flow of Japanese history.
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And yet, in today's world, Japanese history no longer belongs only to Japanese people. Visitors come from all over the world. They travel to Nara and stand before the Great Buddha. Many simply gaze up at him in silence.
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After spending time with the Great Buddha, we walked behind the statue and found the place where goshuin were being written.
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Foreign visitors approached the counter and asked for goshuin using a few words of Japanese. The attendants, dressed in traditional robes, replied with simple English, Spanish, Chinese, or other languages. Their kindness and patience were remarkable.
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Among the visitors, I noticed some people carrying two or even three goshuin-cho, the special books used to collect goshuin. Looking at them, I thought that some foreign travelers have probably visited more temples and shrines in Japan than many Japanese people have.
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Perhaps travel brings many things.
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It brings encounters with the messengers of the gods in Nara's deer park. It brings smiles exchanged without effort. It creates moments of understanding between people from different countries. It supports local economies. For some, it deepens a religious or spiritual feeling.
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And perhaps it offers something even simpler.
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Again, beneath Lucy's sky, I witnessed another small and beautiful scene.
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Several Japanese students in school uniforms were enjoying their school trip. In Japan, elementary school, junior high school, and high school students travel with their classmates. We call these journeys shugaku ryoko.
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One girl, wearing a white blouse, a red ribbon tie, and a gray skirt, suddenly said in a clear and cheerful voice,
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"What a pretty girl!"
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She was looking at a foreign child who was walking nearby with her mother. The little girl was very thin, with golden curls framing her face. She seemed slightly embarrassed by the unexpected compliment. Holding her mother's hand, she smiled shyly.
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Even now, I remember the brightness of that smile. Her lips seemed to shine as purely as sacred water.
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Then the girl's mother turned to the students and asked,
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"Do you speak English?"
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At that very moment, the students froze.
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For a second or two, nobody moved.
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Then a tall boy, standing among his classmates, answered with a single word. He spoke with complete confidence.
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"No."
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The answer was so direct that I almost laughed.
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The mother smiled warmly. Her expression was gentle, as though she were the mother of every student there. Using simple gestures, she suggested that they take a photograph together.
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And so, beneath Lucy's sky with diamonds, the students and the little girl stood together for a picture.
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Watching them, I felt perfectly happy.
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At that moment, nothing could take my happiness away.
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