When I was a little girl, my father traveled constantly, everywhere from Israel to Japan, Ukraine to Ethiopia, Switzerland to Ghana. And for many of those years, he would bring dolls back for me from the countries he visited. The number of dolls eventually exceeded the space I had to display them, but a few have always remained on my shelves, including a wooden bride and groom from Japan, brought home to me some time during the 1970s. I have never been particularly drawn to Japanese culture, but I just love these dolls.
And then last week, I pulled off the two-lane highway that parallels one of the most famous surfing spots in the world to wander through through a tiny shop called The Only Show in Town. There, among the antiques and souvenirs, I stumbled upon a solid branch of my dolls' extended family. The shop owner, who told me he had collected more than a thousand of these quietly smiling creations, called them Kokeshi and that the first dolls were first made more than 300 years ago in Northern Japan.
My dad's been gone nearly three years now, but reminders of his influence in my life are everywhere, from the ubiquitous camera in my hand to the urge to talk to strangers when I'm traveling (despite being pretty reserved at home). And the desire to bring a little bit of the world home with me every chance I get.
