I lived in suburban Saitama for half a year.
More than anything else I kept thinking about how much it reminded me of “home” in suburban upstate New York-just safer, grayer, and much more compact.
The town was directly linked to the Tokyo Metro, however the train seemed to function as more of a means of getting into and out of town rather than getting around it. Surrounding the station was a gorgeous roundabout and water fountain, complete with a surrounding assortment of department stores, a Starbucks, and a small maze of cafes and shops. The area was always lively with pedestrian traffic up until around 7 or 8pm, by which time the atmosphere seemed to evanesce almost instantly.
Walk five minutes in any direction and it all turns into a massive sprawl of similarly designed residential houses and low-rise apartment buildings intersected by small narrow roads. Wait, I take that back for a second-right before that was the red-light district, situated along the tracks just outside the station area. It was a bit alarming, considering its proximity to the station and how this was supposed to be a family-oriented town where over half the people I saw in passing each day were children, teenagers on bicycles, and 30-something parents with strollers. Even most of the normal bars were situated along the tracks just next to the station. I’m guessing it was a convenient stop-off for salary men getting off the train in the evenings to unwind before going home.
Beyond the station area, everything had that “old” feeling to it. It was that feeling you get from a place that has been around for a long while but never developed into anything interesting. And it wasn’t like that same sort of “old” as in places in Tokyo where at least they were still alive with the kinetic energy of people gathering and moving about.
If young people in this town wanted to do something fun, they would generally go into Tokyo or more often hang out around the local station area. The nearby McDonald’s was personally unbearable on weekends as it was inundated almost exclusively by the bubbly 12-15 year old age group, dressed down but dressed well in their designer clothes as though it were a formal event. It wasn’t hard to see that the station area was to kids here as what the shopping mall is for suburban kids in the U.S: the only place in town to see and be seen, to meet friends, and to go shopping if you had the cash.
During weekdays virtually all kids walk to school on their own. Perhaps that was what struck me conversely as being the most different between here and the small suburb I grew up in with its cars and school buses. Of course there were cars here too, but walking was actually practical here.
Elementary students here would walk double file in neat lines at the same time every morning with the oldest kids leading the way; PTA moms with flags would act as stationed crosswalk guards all along the way, exemplifying the very essence of a “neighborhood watch community”. Passing alongside in either direction would be adult commuters suited up with their briefcases, making their tired way to the station or bus stop. It felt like a mass exodus of sorts, and interestingly the only time I saw the most people out and about on foot at the same place and time.
In the suburb I grew up in, everyone drove and it was too dangerous to walk because of the lack of sidewalks. If you wanted to go somewhere, you needed a car. But beyond that and the wider, greener spaces, I personally did not feel much of any difference between here and where I grew up. Both places in my mind were uneventful, quiet, and appealing only in terms of their cheaper living costs and proximity to a major urban area. At any rate, I only lived there because I worked there.
Places don’t always have to be completely alike in appearance in order to essentially be the same.
