B-Side Travels, Japan! #2
dispatch 02. Kashihara. the little things.
I stand surprised facing a bronze statue of Chun-Li. You know, Street Fighter. Chinese martial artist, blue high-slit dress designed for ease of kicking, spiked bracelets and hair in twin buns covered in white fabric. That Chun-Li. The surprising thing was not that it exists. But that it was right in front of the Kashihara City Hall.
As roots and origins go, the founder of Capcom Co., Ltd. is from this humble city of Kashihara, and in its early years of success, was invited to have their exhibition at the Fujiwarakyo Pavillion during an event held in 1995 to celebrate the 1300th—1300th!—anniversary of the founding of Japan’s first capital, Fujiwarakyo.
A City Hall and a bronze statue of a video game character? At first I found it odd. Now I understand. Capcom’s games—Street Fighter, Resident Evil, Mega Man, to name a few—entertained the childhood of many people all over the world, including mine. For a small, relatively unheard-of city to be the birthplace of someone who made that possible, being proud (and showing it) makes total sense.
And this serves another purpose. The statue symbolizes the collaboration of Capcom and the city of Kashihara, that exists in support of “projects related to the effective use of historical and cultural resources, promoting tourism activities, and local revitalization efforts.” So the plaque sign says.
The area of Kashihara, as well as its neighboring cities, Asuka and Sakurai, played a key role in shaping the Japan we know today, with Kashihara being home to the first imperial capital (albeit lasting only 16 years between 694-710), as well as Kashihara-jingu Shrine, a Shrine built on the site where the first emperor of Japan, Emperor Jimmu, was said to have ascended the throne.
This area with key historical and cultural sites in Kashihara, Asuka, and Sakurai is even currently listed on the UNESCO World Heritage tentative list, with the inspection scheduled this year 2026 for the process making it official. Surely, another thing to be proud of.
There might be no better way to say it: It feels like stepping back in time. A maze of narrow streets lined with white-walled wooden houses, old and worn. Mostly still residential—you hear television playing, chores being done,—some shops and traditional houses-turned-museums. Around 500 of them laid out in a 2km block make up this town, and it’s also surrounded by a moat. Pretty cool. This is the well-preserved Edo town of Imaicho.
My first stop in the morning was in the tourist information center, right at the edge of the town. Immediately I was greeted and welcomed, and upon realizing that I did not speak Japanese, another lady who could speak some English was called. She was very helpful, eager to tell me about the place, giving me maps and information, answering my questions, and asking questions about me as well. She was very pleased with the Japanese words and phrases I was able to muster.
After having lunch at a long-standing, family-owned soba shop, I stopped at my first coffee shop for the day: Imai-bunko Café + Bookstore.
The coffee is strong. The atmosphere is welcoming, soft. A homey wooden shelter filled with books, magazines, CDs, and little snacks and souvenirs. I sat by the counter where the owner makes coffee, as the three tables were already filled. Locals seem to gather here: I see a student reading, two elderly folks by the counter next to me just catching up, chatting. The owner is warm and kind, a lady in her 40s or 50s. She offered me an English map of the town.
I finish the coffee and the free sweets, and walk around the store, browsing books I can’t read, snacks I don’t know, and little cute souvenirs. I bought 4 of them to take back home, coasters with different patterns and stitches; seemed like it was hand-made, and from the area.
I hand over the items at the counter to pay and immediately was greeted by a degree of gratitude you would not expect. I mean, I only bought these tiny, thin cloth coasters. Trying to engage in a conversation, and pulling out her phone for the translation app, she told me that this place is a welfare facility, and that these coasters, and most items for sale are made by people with disabilities who live there. I try to lean in to the conversation—asking, just being curious, phone-assisted and language-permitting. I ask about any restaurant or café recommendations she might have (a good beginner way to practice Japanese).
Here in Kashihara, and even in Wakayama city, there’s an eagerness from the locals that you might not get from the big cities. An eagerness to welcome you, to help out despite language barriers, and a light curiosity to get to know you – where did you come from and why did you come here, to this place?
I finish chatting with the owner and step outside. I linger for a bit to take photos of the storefront. As I was about to walk away, I notice the owner step out of the shop, orange in hand. She handed it to me, smiled, and said thank you.
It’s the little things.
Days 4-7 (part 1) in Japan. Kashihara.
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