“Wow, that’s right you haven’t. Well what do you think?”
“I don’t consider this Japan. Japanese people think of the base as part of America.”
Leaving base later that day I realized why the locals don’t consider our base as part of their country. Walking outside that gate was like walking into another world.
First, we wandered through a park filled with distinctive Japanese landscaping. Thick green vegetation surrounded shallow pools. Stone paths meandered past tall, drooping trees and simple monuments presented dedications we could not read. A terraced garden climbed up level with the top of the fence surrounding our base. To the right we could see a courtyard filled with trees, flowers, and a glittering silver arch overlooking the ocean. To our left we saw only barbed wire and the base McDonald's.
As we left the park we passed a ship floating in dry cement. That too was some sort of memorial but we didn’t know to what since we couldn’t read the signs. Just outside the main park we found a telephone booth shaped like a light house.
Back in the city again, we went to the mall. On the way in we passed Wendy’s. The food in its advertising placards was almost unrecognizable. The burgers were covered in strange toppings and the chili looked more like red soup with vegetables floating in it.
Inside we found six stories of shopping and food. The stores all ran together with no walls to separate a shop from its neighbor. I was instantly overwhelmed. We passed a children’s play area that looked like a scientist’s observation room filled with experimental equipment made of yellow plastic. Children bounced happily on strange balloons sprouting from the ground or giggled as they chased each other through crawlspaces with clear plastic walls. Fast food play places back in the states look like prison cells in comparison. I wanted to take a picture but Grant thought is would be creepy for some American to come by and take a picture of a bunch of Japanese toddlers.
The toy store area was colossal. Micky Mouse and Cinderella jostled for shelf space with the Beanies and some adorable fuzzy monsters. We found a tea pot shaped like a giraffe, a whole bank of vending machines and a little stuffed animal for every day of the year. American children lead a dull gray existence in comparison to the bright, cartoony, color of the Japanese. I wanted to buy everything in sight. We bought nothing. It was easier that way. Though I did stick 100 yen in a vending machine and, in return, got a pin in the shape of a Samurai.
While exploring the mall we found, in addition to the expected toy and clothing stores, a movie theater, two arcades, a gym, portrait studios with kimonos hanging in the windows, a grocery store and a Pachinko parlor. We stopped to peek in the window because neither of us had seen Pachinko in person before. Someone opened the door to the parlor and a cacophony spilled out.
“If we worked there the Navy would be checking to make sure we had ear protection,” Grant said.
I nodded. It sounded like an arcade merged with a concert and filled with five hundred misers counting their money.
After the mall we used the pedestrian overpass to cross the main road and ended up in a quieter, more traditional part of the city. The streets were so narrow only one car could pass at a time and each time one did the gaggle of pedestrians would have to press close to the buildings for fear of being crushed. Once, a lifted land rover with mudding tires passed us. The driver didn’t seem to notice that his truck was almost as wide as the road or that the pedestrians were scattering to stay out of his way.
“Gee, you think that’s an American?” I asked.
We saw lots of bars and restaurants including a Chinese place, an Italian place and a couple of taco stands. Several tiny shops, barely big enough to park a car in, sold souvenirs. Once we even passed a small, dark shrine. I was dying to go inside but American’s aren’t allowed since an incident a few years ago when some Sailors were caught looting temples and shrines in Yokosuka. Now we’re allowed to go to the shrines in Tokyo, but we have to limit ourselves to just staring at the ones around here.
After exploring for hours, we were hungry. We found a little eatery on a corner. The whole place fit about six tables and four bar stools. The chairs were so small and low I worried Grant wouldn’t be able to sit in them. Instrumental music played quietly in the background. I recognized it as a song from Guys and Dolls. In fact, all the music I had heard off base was American music.
We ordered our food from a vending machine at the front of the store. It spit out two tickets which we brought back to our table. The waitress took half of each ticket and brought it into the kitchen. A few minutes later she came back with our food. Each meal cost about $7.50 for fish, rice, vegetables, tofu and the various sauces to top each of them.
When we were finished we were able to just get up and leave since we had already paid for the meal at the vending machine. It was my kind of restaurant.
It was almost a relief to get back to base, where things were more familiar. Before our little excursion I had thought I was adjusting well to life in Japan. Now I realize that's only because I hadn't been there yet.
Today I leave you with a quote from the late, great Mitch Hedberg, "I wanna hang a map of the world in my house. Then I'm gonna put pins into all the locations that I've traveled to. But first, I'm gonna have to travel to the top two corners of the map so it won't fall down."
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