I like the original meaning of the word “strange” when it meant unfamilar, foreign-feeling, new, unknown, and even exciting, without the negative connotation of weird and somehow wrong and what in academic circles is called “othering”.

Being in strange places making eye contact with strange people is what travelers are traveling for. I have a peculiar feeling when I am walking the streets of Busan or (during our detour to Japan) Sapporo and Otaru that even when I’m doing the kinds of ordinary things I have done countless times before (crossing streets, looking into restaurant windows, peering up at tall buildings, seeking out public restrooms, entering thresholds of shops) that I really have no idea what the hell I’m looking at. Is that a dry-cleaning shop or tailor? (It was a fishing gear store.) Is that a dive bar? (No, it’s a Michelin-level puffer fish restaurant.) It inspires a humility that is enriching, even somehow ennobling.

And it’s not just the language, although that is the most obviously obfuscating aspect of the experience. No, it’s the “little differences” that Vince Vega alluded to in Pulp Fiction, the small things you take for granted in everyday life that, when they are even a little different, throws you off in the most subtle yet profound way.

It’s a great feeling. You are pushing the boundaries of your everyday experiences in seemingly ordinary ways and literally stepping outside your comfort zone. But luckily for me, the usual fear and anxiety that accompanies encounters with the unfamiliar–and the dangerous vulnerability that often comes with traveling–is not there, because I have local guides to keep me safe: my brother, who has lived here in Busan for 25 years, and my sister-in-law Misun, who has lived here all her life. They have been very generous in their patience and with their willingness to expose me to experiences I never would have considered seeking on my own.

Today is my 13th day abroad and I have 6 days left. There is still much to do, to see, and to experience with two of my favorite people, who are not strange, although to me strange is the land and the life they are sharing with me. And although I can’t absorb it all, I will keep trying to ride that peculiar confusion to someplace new.