Tsukumi is one of those towns that sees few foreigners, and even fewer on inline skates. So you can imagine how many strange looks I got during my twenty-hour stay.
Despite the summary, I may have perhaps found the place in which I want to live in the future. I’m not the type that enjoys big cities—Okayama is plenty large for me, and I’d rather not consider living anywhere larger, such as Hiroshima or Osaka. Maybe lately, however, I’ve been feeling that even Okayama (considered to be out in the country by many local residents) is too big for my tastes. Big cities mean noisy traffic, bright lights, and wasteful spending.
Getting to see Tsukumi, then, was perfect timing. Tsukumi is not the picturesque Japanese village that has remained untouched by the waves of change (if such a village exists). Rather, it has a heavy industrial section engaged in the production of cement, which seems to be the main product. From the train station in the center of Tsukumi one can see several smokestacks protruding into the sky along a hazy coastline to the north. There are a few tiled shopping arcades, even fewer large stores, and one pachinko parlor. Many buildings have an old, fatigued sort of look, and give the impression that had one visited twenty or thirty years ago things would have looked quite the same.
But there is an unspoken, subtle feeling of homeliness that permeates every area. Small parks, often too small to appear on a map, dot the central neighborhoods. Small stores are everywhere, selling everything from local produce to construction material to tatami mats. Terraced fields scale the steep mountains to the south. Koi (Japanese carp) swim in one of the many shallow streams that twist through the city. Steps spiraling around a small hill just south of the station lead to a viewing platform that grants a splendid view of the city. The view from that point at nine in the morning on Thursday took hold of my attention and refused to let it go for quite some time. I imagine the view of the stars from there is quite spectacular.
Populationally speaking, Tsukumi has a high percentage of elderly persons and does not seem to attract many new people. All of (penpal) Mami’s friends from high school moved away to other places—this kind of thing is common, Mami said. I suppose that’s to be expected. For most young people the more fashionable lifestyle offered by a bigger city is attractive. But for others the simple life is best. I think I’m one of those people. Perhaps that’s why I find Tsukumi so fascinating.