#15 Afterword

It was 1977. In Khajuraho, India, I was gazing at the red hot sun setting in the horizon. Standing in the middle of a field, I witnessed the sunlight paint the landscapes in shades of crimson. I decided to lie down. On the ground, I found out that the earth was warm and it felt as though the entire planet was embracing me tightly. Planet Earth. Loving this planet so dearly myself, I, too, wanted to hold it in my arms. The sky, the seas, the land, the trees. What vibrant expressions they all display. Both man and beast thrive on this planet as their one and only Garden of Eden. Even faced with war, famine, sickness and death, they must continue to live on this planet. And when you show it love, the planet gives back by nurturing life with its infinitely flowing fertility.

I began trekking planet Earth in 1968, when I was 27 years old. I am now 77, which means I have traveled across the planet for 50 years. When I began my journey, Japan was still struggling from the destructive war that had ended just over two decades ago. The yen was fixed at a rate of 360 a dollar and the amount of foreign currency a Japanese traveller could carry out the country was limited to $500. On my maiden voyage abroad, I journeyed through Mexico, Cuba and San Francisco. The people of Cuba, though poor, was very lively, as it had been only nine years since the 1959 revolution led by Fidel Castro.

Excitement was in the eyes of the young and the old. Blacks, whites, browns and yellows were all living together, ever so happily. I was deeply moved, seeing the beauty of joyous blacks not exposed to institutionalized racism like those in the United States. As dusk approached, I would hear the sound of drums echoing from nearby ports in the hotel room in Havana I was staying at. People traveled down the streets shaking their hips, arms in the air, dancing. Oh, what joyous people! As a young woman who grew up entirely in Japan, I was astonished to witness such exuberance in the people of Cuba. But the land was in poverty. When I was looking for a swimsuit, a local girl I became friends with made one for me using scraps of cloth. Even my hotel room came with no toothpaste or soap and I thought I should make some for them recalling what I learned in chemistry class as a student. Despite the condition, the people were dancing as they chanted "Cuba, qué Linda es Cuba!” (Cuba, How Beautiful is Cuba!). In the plaza was Fidel Castro shouting to the masses, “Freedom or death!”

Since my first journey, I’ve seen the many faces of planet Earth, seeking every place that sparked my interest and, in spite of any hazards, I made it there.

I traveled to India five times and even trekked on the Silk Road. Lately, I have been greatly intrigued by Africa. Between 2006 and 2017, I’ve visited the majestic continent 10 times. The vibrant landscapes of Africa. The warm, kindhearted people that live in harmony with the very majesty of Mother Nature. They all don a fashion influenced by their traditional, yet modern-looking African artwork—an immensely free style of art that even Pablo Picasso is said to have been influenced by. Whether it be embroideries or beadwork, they all have a sense of modernism to them, despite being handmade by local villagers. I was so swept away by their art that once I made it back home from my first visit to the continent, I fully transformed my bedroom with African decor.

Many of you are probably familiar with the classic The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. The author was an aviator during a time mankind was pioneering flight, who flew air mail routes on a small biplane with just a pilot’s seat up front and a navigator’s seat in the back. Saint-Exupéry risked his life on these flights which connected France to Patagonia on the tip of South America via North Africa. The aviator observed the Earth and people from the skies, a perspective completely different from most of mankind was able to see at eye height. He soared over sand dunes, a lonely hut in the middle of a field and brightly lit cities. From high above in the air, he saw no borders and saw how small of a presence human life had on a planet filled with nature’s immense powers. As he flew his plane, he felt the spherical shape of the planet and understood how humans were also creatures living on the face of the planet. I believe Saint-Exupéry was able to depict himself in the novella as someone equally genuine as the little prince because of what he learned through his flights.

Earth is just a planet floating in the void of space! All 7 billion people, whether that’s you, me or everyone else, is the little prince! Sure, it’s a bit cramped here, but nonetheless.

Summer of 2018. Climate change is affecting our entire planet and Tokyo reached highs of 35-36 degrees for days on end. Wildfires spread across California, Spain and Sweden. Record levels of torrential rainfall poured down across Japan, causing harm to various locales of the nation.

With various authoritarians in power across the globe, the world of politics and economics is starting to neglect the very concept of democracy, causing the gap between the rich and the poor to become even wider.

The world today is amid the storm of the night.

And if I were living in such a dismal time without knowing the “Song of Light,” I am sure to be in deep despair.

I had my doubts about the song at first, but I became convinced of its accuracy once I saw how the world has progressed over the past three decades. Now, I cannot wait for dawn to come! Oh, the beautiful morning! The world is truly in need of a morn that shall brighten and calm the heart of all people.

-Midori Itaya