Thanks for the input so far guys, but I'm hoping this thread doesn't devolve into another one of the hundreds of "are [insert country here] girls easy?" kind of threads that are so prevalent around here. I'm gonna get this thread back on track by posting a photo essay of what it's like to walk (and drive) through my city, Kamisu. Bear in mind that these photos were taken over the span of nine months, not one single day, haha.
Kamisu: A Photo Essay
It's summer 2015, and I've decided to drive to Kamisu's Nikkawa Beach. During the drive to the beach along the coast, there are many giant wind turbines that generate electricity for the surrounding area.
Now I'm at the beach. It's mostly just families and their children going to the very edge of the water. Not too many people are going all the way in. Apparently there was a shark scare a few weeks back. I spot a handful of babes in bikinis, but not very many. Also notice that there are more wind turbines along the shore.
Autumn has just rolled in, and I've made my way to Minato Park (港公園), which is located along the coast and faces the Kashima-nada Sea and the Pacific Ocean. There's an observation tower at the park, and I can go to the top for only 200 yen. I'm a sucker for good photo opportunities, so it's well worth the 200 yen in my book.
There are many people fishing with very long fishing rods at the park. Most of the people fishing are middle-aged and older men. I wonder what kind of fish they're trying to catch.
Now I'm at the top of the observation tower, and I'm facing east towards the ocean. There are countless factories located along the coast, many of which have some kind of affiliation with other countries, especially China.
It's lunch time. The restaurant scene in Kamisu is pretty bleak, as the city is mostly dominated by mediocre national franchises - very few mom-and-pop type restaurants exist here. I ultimately decide on Kura Sushi (くら寿司), one of the countless franchises of "conveyor belt sushi" (回転寿司) restaurants in Japan. You grab plates of sushi as they rotate past your table. Most plates are only 100 yen. Overall, not too bad. One of the better franchises available in Kamisu. A decent-looking mom eats at the table next to me. Kamisu has thousands of moms just like the one pictured here.
As I drive through some of Kamisu's backroads, I see countless farm fields like the one pictured here. They seem to always look muddy, and I almost never see anything growing. I'm curious as to what crops they grow.
If I cross this bridge that goes over the Tone River, I'll leave Kamisu and enter Katori, which officially takes me out of Ibaraki prefecture and into Chiba prefecture.
A flock of mynas perch in a tree full of berries. One thing I appreciate about Kamisu is seeing all the different birds, as I grew up in Arkansas with a father who was big into bird watching, so the hobby kind of rubbed off on me.
It's now December, and tens of thousands of pintail ducks have migrated to Kamisu and Ibaraki prefecture. Pintail ducks are not native to only Japan, so it's very possible these ducks have migrated here from another country. These ducks are now in seemingly every body of water in the surrounding area. Pictured here they are in a man-made lake behind Kamisu City Hall.
Next to the man-made lake and city hall is my gym, where I usually go four or five times a week. The gym is located in the local "cultural center," and admission is only 50 yen per hour - one of the few true bargains in my city. But because the gym, or rather the "weight room," is so small, it can get crowded quick. Any more than five people in here at once, and things are gonna get real uncomfortable. I mostly use the squat rack and bench press rack at the back left, which is also what everyone else wants to use, so sometimes I have to be prepared to wait a while.
It's now late afternoon, and the sun is starting to go down. The sun sets pretty early in the winter, usually around 4 PM. I'm standing on top of a hill at Chuo Park (中央公園) in central Kamisu. In front of me is a sewer plate looking-thing that tells me which direction different Japanese cities are from the park. For example, Tokyo is to the west.
A small pack of kids have also climbed to the top of the park's hill. They seem to be very interested in me, presumably because I'm an obvious foreigner. They fire off any English words they have ever learned, hoping I'll understand them. It's kind of flattering and amusing being noticed by them, as adults in the city practically never say anything to me. I don't expect special treatment or anything, but it's nice to be noticed every once in a while, especially in such a socially isolating place like Kamisu.
Now near my apartment, the sun is setting fast. It's almost night time.
When the weather is actually clear, which isn't often, Kamisu has some pretty colorful and vibrant sunsets. But they only last about 15 minutes or so, so you have to pay attention, or they'll pass you right by.
It's now night time, and I'm on Highway 124, Kamisu's main drag, facing southeast towards Choshi, a nearby seaside town.
As I walk along the main drag on a Saturday night, I can see lots of people and families going out to eat at restaurants. Looking through the window of one restaurant, I see a pack of school girls, who look like they just left school, chatting and having a good time. Yes, having school on Saturdays is normal here in Japan and most of the rest of Asia. I feel sorry for these kids, as going to school on Saturday was pretty much unheard of in my youth. Well, not unless you had Saturday school, which was reserved for the worst troublemakers.
A chef prepares a bowl of noodles for a customer at a noodle franchise restaurant called Marugame Noodles (丸亀製麺). This is one of the few restaurants in the city that has big open windows around its kitchen, which is kind of cool, as you can see chefs preparing food from outside.
As I continue walking along the main drag, I pass Jonathan's, one of Japan's many franchises of family restaurants, which are called "famiresu" (ファミレス) in Japanese. These places dominate the Kamisu food scene, but I find most of them quite boring. They do have a few decent dishes, though, and they tend to be more affordable than other restaurants.
Now I've made my way into Jam Jam Amusement, one of Kamisu's few arcades. I've learned if the word "amusement" is in a place's name in Japan, that most likely means you can gamble there. When I'm inside, I go the second floor (the gambling floor) and see a woman wearing a surgical face mask (very common in Japan) playing one of those "coin push" games. She looks like she's a professional at the game, but she also looks like an emotionless zombie, which is what so many people gambling at the casinos here seem to look like.
A young man plays one of the arcade games on Jam Jam's ground floor. One thing I like about Jam Jam is their selection of retro arcade games. For example, they have Metal Slug, Final Fight, and Street Fighter II, all classic games from my childhood. I'm not much of a gamer these days, but it's hard to resist the hit of nostalgia I get when playing the same games I grew up with. For this reason, Jam Jam is one of my favorite places in Kamisu.
Now we're back on Kamisu's main drag. On the left is a Chinese restaurant, and on the right is a karaoke bar. Of all the foreign cuisine available in this part of Japan, Chinese is by far the most ubiquitous. Karaoke bars are also extremely common in Asia, especially northeast Asia. Too bad I almost never hear anyone with a decent singing voice at these places, rather usually the complete opposite.
7-Eleven may have been founded back in Texas, but now the franchise is owned by a Japanese parent company, hence making the franchise more Japanese than American (and also why 7-Eleven is so abundant in Thailand, because the Japanese have heavy business influence in Thailand). Pictured is a couple of guys checking out the magazines, maybe even the porno mags. Often whenever I enter convenience stores around here, there's nearly always a man or two checking out the mags, but never does a woman check out the mags... ever. Strange.
Looking at one of the few taxi hubs in Kamisu. These are the same "shiny black taxis" that my wife likes. But taking a taxi in Japan is exorbitantly expensive, so the thought to take one never even enters my mind. I also drive a company-provided car, so I never really need one anyways.
Just off the main drag, Kamisu has several bars and "clubs." But it should be understood that these are not the kinds of bars or clubs you would go to as an outsider. They feel very exclusive and discretionary. Most of them are hostess bars which cater to lonely Japanese men. Many of them hire Filipino and Thai hostesses. Walking in as a white foreigner might create some awkward tension in the air, and some of these nightlife venues flat out won't let you in if you're not Japanese. These places are also extremely expensive. The line between entertainment and prostitution is very blurry at these kind of places.
Back in my neighborhood there are many houses just like this one - very traditional Japanese style. These are the same houses my wife likes. I've noticed every house like this has a large stone wall surrounding it, and the curtains are always closed. It's as if people live there, but you never see any sign of life.
This is my apartment building, and this what most apartment buildings look like here in Kamisu. There are several rows of narrow, but deep apartments, and once again, there's rarely any sign of life. Every time I walk around my neighborhood, I see so many cars parked outside apartment buildings like this one, but I almost never see anyone. This strongly reminds me of Tokyo and its eerily isolated residential streets. That said, there's pretty much zero community spirit in Kamisu. Similar to America, everyone locks themselves away in their homes, and the second they step out of their door, they're already in their car on their way to the nearest franchise to shop or eat. In Thailand and China, whenever I am standing outside a random apartment building or walking down a random soi, there's a strong sense of community - people milling about, chatting about the latest happenings, standing around rubbernecking, being nosy, eating snacks, playing mahjong, etc. None of that happens here in Kamisu. There's a very strong "mind your own business" vibe here. Even though so many people live in cramped quarters near one another, they really don't want anything to do with one another. They might exchange pleasantries and be polite on the surface, but that's it. I find all this very un-Asia-like.
Even though it has a population of nearly 100,000 people, Kamisu is more like a town than a city. Japan has a national population density of 339 people per square mile, and the United States' is 84 people per square mile. That means Japan is roughly four times more crowded than the US, so Kamisu is roughly equal to an American town of 25,000 people. That feels about right. So due to Kamisu's small-town dynamics, the streets are naturally rather quiet at night. Driving around at night, the main lights I see are those from vending machines. Vending machines are everywhere in this country, and even semi-rural Kamisu is no exception. Some houses even have their very own vending machine sitting outside their home, which I find quite odd.
Spring has come, which means the cherry blossom season has also arrived. Hordes of tourists descend upon Japan during these short two weeks to see and photograph all the cherry blossoms blooming around the country. Kamisu looks quite nice for a change, but too bad all the pink flowers will be gone as soon as they came. They really gave the city some flair, and it seemed like there was actually a small hint of some culture during this time, something dreadfully lacking in Kamisu. I even spotted a handful of foreigners during the season, which is quite unusual for Kamisu.
Now we're back in the present time, and the warm season is slowly but surely rolling in. It's gonna be a really short spring. Anyways, that's it for now. I hope you enjoyed this photo essay. Plenty more Japan stuff to come later.
