Mornings are difficult in a group of 6, especially when cooped up in a single, tiny guesthouse room. Even the best of planners can’t accurately predict when you’ll all be able to leave the house, and this particular morning, my maternal uncle (who in Hindi I call Mama and will do so henceforth in these accounts as well) and I were the first ones ready by a long time. The plan had been for everyone to have breakfast together in the guesthouse kitchen, so naturally it made sense that Mama and I get supplies while we were waiting. Plus, it was the trip’s first official morning in Japan, and I simply couldn’t wait to get out and about — even if just for a grocery run.
We set off in the direction we’d came from last night, knowing we’d seen stores on the way. I remember telling Mama in that moment that I felt like a hunter-gatherer of sorts, bringing home food for the family. Very different job, but a similar feeling.
I was never the grownup in the family. While my brother and I were growing up, it had naturally been our parents, and in the past few years Onkar was present, him. Someone, by default, would always take charge, and I would never be faced with having to. But in Onkar’s absence, and being the best with technology in this odd group of people, the responsibility somehow fell on me to get everyone around, and I embraced it.
A year and a half ago, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I wouldn’t have even thought of stepping forward to assume the role, and even if I had, I would have been terrified of it. I would’ve been in the position the rest of my family is in now, depending on someone else to get me around.
I remember how I felt taking my first solo trip ever last summer, to Portugal. It was a personal choice to consciously step out of my comfort zone and go, but since it was my first time traveling alone, I was anxious about everything — what if I wasn’t able to communicate? Or make friends at the hostel? Or if I lost my luggage or my phone?
Although things went as smoothly as they possibly could on the logistic front, I’d planned for the trip to be nearly a month long, the homesickness kicked in after about a week, and I’d thrown in the towel. Still, the fact that I came out of that first solo trip to a foreign country alive and well stood for something. I didn’t know it then, but that first trip sparked the start of a long chain of adventures to follow.
Through all these diverse experiences combined — some solo and some not, staying in places from dingy hostels to deluxe hotels, with anywhere from a full blown suitcase to haul around to just a weekend backpack stuffed to the brim in the name of ‘travelling light’ — I became more capable. Each trip boosted my confidence just a little more, and cut to October 2024, I didn’t bat an eye at the idea of going to Japan for over a month.
I knew there would be a language problem. On a scale of foreign-ness of places I’ve been to so far, Japan ranks pretty damn high. And even though I’ve been learning Japanese, I’m well aware I know nowhere near enough to get by. Even then, I trust myself to be resourceful enough to figure it out.
We were a sizeable group initially, so I made sure that we had accommodation booked for while my uncle’s side of the family was accompanying mom and I. It was the responsible thing to do. But mom and I had agreed that after they left and, we’d just be winging it. And that would be okay. We would be okay.
Today itself, we winged a lot of things. Visiting Osaka castle was on the itinerary, and we got there alright but we hadn’t decided whether we wanted to go in or not. We roamed around, gathering intel — what’s inside, how much it costs, how long the line was (spoiler alert — massive) and how fast it was moving forward, and took a vote on how many people wanted to go in. We did go in and it turned out great, but it would have been fine even if we didn’t. We would have found something else. Some other way to make the day productive and fun.
We could’ve gotten lost, and we would’ve been fine. (Obviously that’s not a universal statement, but considering this is Japan, it applies.)
Younger me would’ve drowned in anxiety, having to make all these decisions on the spot. She wouldn’t have even set foot in the country without having her accommodation booked for the entire duration, probably GPS-sharing 24/7 and still paranoid about getting abducted. Those fears aren’t realistic, I’ve learned over time. This immunity against sweating the small stuff and the resourcefulness enough to get by is the kind of independence that goes a long way, and I’m already seeing its effects in making life easier. I’ve got a long ways to go yet but I’m already a long way from where I started and the next few weeks are bound to take me further.