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Finally, time for the Final Fuji! Back to the city where I’d lived for some of the more formative moments of my first few years in Japan, close to twenty years ago.
Given the history I’d imagined this visit would be rife with hitherto unknown or unacknowledged emotions bubbling up to the surface. A journey to the past leading to some kind of transcendent epiphany of self-discovery. A step back in time causing some coalescence of comprehension. A little wander down memory lane leading to the laying of old thoughts to rest.
Out of all the emotions I was expecting, I wasn’t prepared for a vague sense of apathy. Turns out I hadn’t left any baggage behind, after all. Then again, my memory was hazy about so many different details that had seemed so incredibly important all those years ago, but were now just fleeting memories bringing sensations like “wasn’t that the bar where that happened?”
I’d noticed nothing much had really changed in Fuji City when I arrived at Shin-Fuji, and it was even truer in the centre of town. The Main Street had had a few additions and subtractions but the buildings were largely the same. The old department stores – there had been two, one on Main Street and one near the station – had been in the process of disappearing when I left. One was a car park now, the other a gym. Other than that, it felt like pretty much the exact same place.
Life’s rich tapestry, hey? Some things change, some things don’t. We move ever onward and, if we’re lucky, ever upwards: the good things stick around, the bad things bugger off.
The past, it turns out, is for learning from, not for dwelling on, a fact made clear after I walked across town to where I used to live. The building was still there, didn’t look different at all. Nothing much had changed.
Except for me, I mused as I wandered up to the local park. Taken a kicking, but kept on ticking. Good times, bad times; you know the deal. Made a lot of mistakes, wrong turns and the occasional good call. I’d still, somehow, come out the other side a better person than I’d been when I lived in Fuji.
I didn’t see much point hanging around for the rest of the day, chasing ghosts. I headed back to the station, settled into my seat on the train home with that sense of satisfaction you only get at the end of a really long journey.
As I sat there and watched the landscape flash by like so many forgotten memories, it occurred to me that this had really only been one part of the journey.
There was still a long way to go, and I hadn’t even chosen a direction yet.
FUJIS LEFT AT THE END OF SEPTEMBER 5th, 2020 : 0/60
#60 FUJI GALLERY
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