The spirits here are everywhere. They appear as mammoth apparitions, making homes of hillsides, mountaintops, and entire city blocks. They appear as halfling spectres, lingering in alleyways and forgotten places. They are loud as crashing symbols and quiet as the stars in the night sky. And yet, even those who dwell deep out of sight, hidden in stillness and silence, are seldom disregarded. They are visited in deference, supplicated as guardians of a great many people. Their work is never-ending, and in it they are diligent. I have no memory of meeting a spirit in my old home. I wonder now if those that had been there simply fled, perhaps some time ago. I never saw them tended, there in the West, as these of the East are tended. Here, they are cared for, respected, nurtured. And in return, they offer cleansing of both body and soul to any who ask it. All one need do is seek them. And seek them I have.
My hands have never felt so clean, my soul never so refreshed.