The Space Between Us and the Ground Below Us, or: Why I Traveled to Japan
“I was a gay boy, a black gay boy, in a place and time that seemingly eschewed everything I stood for.”
was
black.

On Sunday we walked from arch to arch at one of the shrines, clumped between packs of tourists and locals. Uniformed teens skipped behind stumbling families, and any number of couples posted up for selfies. One pair asked Dave and me to take their photo, and then another couple asked after that. And then another couple asked after that. When a fourth couple approached, I shook my head, but Dave took their phone, smiling and nodding.
When they walked away, he shook his head my way. Relax, he said. This might never happen again.




If
Our last night in Tokyo came after a long morning. We took the Shinkansen from Osaka. Got lost on our way to the Bnb. After pledging not to sleep through any of it, I got off the train groggy, sore about the fact that I’d done so little, and that there’d been so much to do. We’d missed Mt. Fuji. We’d missed so many shrines. We’d missed the Shinjuku Eisu festival, the one thing I’d come to do.
But once we’d scaled the stairs of our station, Dave shook his head, smiling, and I grimaced until I saw what he saw: impossibly, out of nowhere, a couple hundred young people in formation, donning brightly colored wares. Their streamers bared above them. Their expressions drifted between exuberance and deathly seriousness. Dave mouthed, The festival, and then I shook my head. Even after everything.
Taiko drums boomed behind us. The crowd beside us made room for us and our luggage.
In the weeks that followed, when the trip came up in conversation, there would always be a moment when the listener asked, What were you doing there? Weren’t you worried about the barriers? Didn’t it feel a little strange to you?

Bryan Washington is the author of Lot, with fiction and essays appearing in the New York Times, the New York Times Magazine, The New Yorker, BuzzFeed, Vulture, The Paris Review, Boston Review, Tin House, One Story, Bon Appétit, MUNCHIES, American Short Fiction, GQ, FADER, The Awl, Hazlitt, and Catapult. He’s the recipient of an O. Henry Award, and he lives in Houston.
Enter your email address to receive notifications for author Bryan Washington
Success!
Confirmation link sent to your email to add you to notification list for author Bryan Washington
More by this author
What It Means to Live in Houston
In a city made up of many cities, spread out, like tiny countries, ascribing their influence is a lot like trekking through a tiny country of your own.
The Case Against Making a City “Beautiful”
On finding beauty in Houston amidst the ugliness, and what the city stands to lose from increasing gentrification.
Montrose, the Neighborhood That Gave Us Everything
Montrose was unofficially codified as the nexus of queer life in Houston. If you held a map to the wall, I could tell you how we came to be on those streets.
More in this series
The Giant Garbage Pit, or The Largest Diamond Mine in the World
Then, a Robbery and a House on Fire: My Travels in North Siberia
Waiting to Go Home: On Being a Traveler in Trinidad
“Tourists accumulate photos and mementos; travelers collect memories and friends.”
Entering Jerusalem: Scenes from the March of Flags
Notes from 2016’s Jerusalem Day, an Israeli national holiday.