Twenty five years ago, after growing up in South LA, I backpacked across a dozen countries in Europe before arriving in Japan.
The travel bug had bitten me, and I was excited about the unbridled adventure—and opportunities—that awaited me in the Far East. One thing stood out: safety.
I was struck by how people in Japan could—and often did— walk freely about during the wee hours of the morning, as though taking an afternoon stroll. I was not used to this level of safety, and for a while, I kept looking over my shoulder expecting the worse. It never came. Even the police, content with letting you be, were nonthreatening.
For a black man, this was utopia.
Left your brand new Apple lab top computer on a city bus stop, subway, or God forbid, a street corner? Not to worry. In Japan, it will be waiting for you at the nearest lost and found. Ditto for a wallet stuffed with cash.
To me, Japan represents a lot of things: good food, non-stop entertainment, and enough cultural wonders to flutter your heart's heart. But none of this compares to the relief of just being able to walk around free from the threat of guns, violence or any crime whatsoever. It's the kind of feeling that makes you wonder what you have been missing your entire life.
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