During my two week stay in Japan, I took a few days away from the city to camp in a small site near Mt. Fuji. The site was abandoned, aside from an old man that checks in daily to collect the 10 bucks a day it costs to set up camp.
"I’ll be staying for three nights."
"How many people?"
"Just me." He checked behind me and around the site, not believing that a foreigner had made their way to the site alone.
Chuckling, “Alright. Set up wherever you want.”
I made my way into the forest about a half mile, set up my tent, and started a fire.
That night, for the first time in my life, I dreamt in another language.