Once upon a time, I was a green American, still getting used to living in Japan.
Then one day, my wife said, “You’re taking me to the Strawberry Festival”. After details and logistics were squared away, I learned that the festival was to be held in the warehouse district of central Yokohama.
SPOILER: it wasn’t really a ‘festival’ like most American’s think of festivals ala Lollapalooza. The Yokohama Strawberry Festival is a big ass tent that has food vendors (who sell strawberry themed confections) and almost the entire population of central Japan. It was my first experience with the phenomena of Japanese crowds. The strawberries were good though.
Never having gone to a ‘city’ in Japan yet, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. After embarking on a long ass train ride that was filled with what felt like an insane number of transfers, we had finally gotten to our destination.
I couldn’t have given less of a fuck about the strawberries. I had finally gotten to see what a Japanese city was like. Pretty. Fucking. Dope.
The Bay of Yokohama (The first time I had seen a significant body of water since we had left the states)!
People sleeping on benches in the train stations because it’s easier/more affordable than turning on the heat during the day in the abode!
A man out of his vehicle, yelling at the cops (who were in their vehicle, behind him) who had pulled him over for some reason.
That’s right, what you’re looking at is a quick photo I managed of a Japanese man tearing the cops a new asshole and not being put in a choke hold for it.
In case you were wondering, yes: I completely felt like I was in a foreign country when I experienced this guy going after the cops as hard and as loud as he was (we heard him from a block away, before we saw him).