You always remember your first Ghurka. My first came in a form of a beautiful card case wallet, my wife presented me with. Its fine grain and stitching were pleasant to the eye and it fit everything I needed on me. “Make sure you take care of it!” my wife warned me, semi-jokingly, referring to our two beautiful snorting terrors, two Frenchies, Cousteau and Kosmos, having affinity for everything leather and everything they can find on the floor (Kosmos did get the satisfaction of chewing up my wife’s Alexander McQueen wallet earlier).

Taking heed to her warning, I remained vigilant, making sure the wallet was always within my grasp. It worked, until the day it managed to fall down the floor and become Kosmos’ chew toy. He focused mainly on the lower corner of my beautiful Ghurka, puncturing it with his piranha-like puppy teeth, much to our dismay. But what can you do, they are dogs (particularly adorable and loving ones) and we could not be mad at them for long. I put my wounded wallet away, hoping to come up with a way to resurrect it somehow.

One day, my wife and i were looking at our photos from our recent trip to Japan (it was the most amazing trip of our lives) We were looking at all the beautiful scenery and colors, recalling having walked 10 miles away for two weeks to see as much as possible. And then it hit me - Kintsugi! During our trip, we learned of a beautiful japanese art of Kintsugi - the art of mending broken pottery with gold or silver lacquer. This discipline is as whimsical and beautiful as it is practical - broken things are not discarded, but rather enhanced, with their flaws, their brokenness now becoming a beautiful statement. Japanese believe that one’s brokenness and flaws carry the real beauty of experience and are to be celebrated and enhanced - what a concept. I decided to do the same with my wallet- i made a small leather patch and struck my initials with leather tools on it, and then patched my Ghurka up with it (I could not force myself to part with my wife’s gift and my first Ghurka).

I will always remember my first Ghurka, because the story behind it truly crosses the oceans.