At the cafeteria I was treated like some sort of returning war hero.
Is it the fatigue, or the poignancy of this moment, this bridging of cultures? I’ve ridden my bicycle right into a strange world that has existed for a very long time. Here I’m accepted as more than just a stranger on a bicycle. I’m some sort of distant kin, different but connected. It’s just all so bound in tradition and honor that I feel a sense of duty to finish this thing out. So many people going out of their way to help me achieve what I thought was a personal goal, but I am learning, is really a small part of something much bigger.
You can read the entire Post here: Dr. Codfish Chronicles PBP 2003