A Neighborhood Stroll, Tokyo

On my third day in Tokyo, I woke up to a beautiful sunny morning. I decided to walk the two kilometers to Senso-ji, a venerable Buddhist temple founded some 1700 years ago, and the one of Tokyo’s premier tourist attractions that was in easy walking distance from my hotel. I set out shortly after 7:30am with my camera and Google Maps’ directions on my phone to stroll through the Taito City district of Tokyo.

The part of Taito City that I saw was a pleasant but rather non-descript urban residential area. The term “non-descript” is not intended as a criticism; it simply notes that the area had none of the urban glitter that Tokyo is famous for, nor was it an area with lots of traditional architecture that took me back to a distant past. The streets were lined with simple … and perhaps this is a better choice of words … unremarkable low rise buildings that people lived in. The streets and sidewalks were spotlessly clean and adequate, but not expansive; there were very few trees or greenery along the way. In short, Taito City appeared to be a no-frills neighborhood that had a lot of people living together in a limited amount of space.

About halfway to Senso-ji, I came across Matsuba Park, a bit of green space with some shade, some benches, and a small playground area for kids. Nothing fancy, but pleasant nonetheless. There was an information board in the park explaining that Matsuba Park was part of the municipal planning response to the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923. City officials noted that green spaces and parks in the city acted as firebreaks that helped to control the fires that ravaged Tokyo after the earthquake. This small park is one 52 parks Tokyo built in the aftermath of the earthquake to help contain the spread of large fires, and to improve quality of life in neighborhoods throughout the city.

Matsuba Park on a quiet morning.

Japan’s capital city only took on the name Tokyo in 1868 during the reign of the Emperor Meiji. For those interested in such things, in the written Japanese language Tokyo is 東京, two characters originally from Chinese that mean in that language “eastern capital.” This name compliments the names of two important Chinese cities: 北京 (Beijing, northern capital) and 南京 (Nanjing, southern capital). Be that as it may, prior to 1868 Tokyo was named Edo, the city that served as the seat of government for the Tokugawa Shogunate that ruled Japan from 1603 until the Meiji Restoration began after Emperor Meiji ascended to the throne in 1867.

The resting place of the Tamagawa brothers in Tokyo.

As I walked through Taito City, I came across one traditional building secluded behind a gate that reminded me of Tokyo’s long history. This quiet site houses the tombstones and graves of two brothers whose engineering work on behalf of the Shogunate in 1653 helped to alleviate water shortages in Edo. In recognition of their contributions, the Shogunate awarded the brothers a small parcel of land and gave them an honorary surname. After the brothers passed away towards the end of the 17th century, they were laid to rest at this site. The original structure was destroyed by the Great Kanto Earthquake; the building pictured here is a reconstruction. The plaque in front of the gate, with its brief introduction to the Tamagawa brothers, contains another, and I suspect unintended, reminder of Japan’s history. The municipal government provisionally designated the building a historic site in 1924; it was not until 1955 that the designation was formalized.

As I got closer to Senso-ji, houses and apartment building began giving way to more street-level commercial buildings and activity. I would arrive at the temple soon.

Hoi An Homestead

I love how the sensor of my Fujifilm X-T30 renders light and color. This late afternoon shot of a ramshackle home that backs into a small tributary of Thu Bon River is a good example. I made slight adjustments to exposure and contrast, but that was it for post-processing. My Nikon D750 would also produce an appealing rendition of the light and color in this scene, but it would be qualitatively different than the X-T30 image presented here. I must start taking both cameras on my photo trips in the days to come, so I can take some comparison shots.

I bought the X-T30 a couple of years ago, and recently have been trying once again to figure out the user-unfriendly, erratic software interface that comes with the camera. Although it is a beautiful piece of equipment, it has proven frustratingly difficult to use this little mirrorless camera, and it has spent a good deal of the time I have owned it sitting in a closet.

Floating Market in the Mekong Delta

Long Xuyên is a city of some 400,000 people located on the banks of the Hau River (Sông Hậu). The Hau is part of the massive Mekong River delta system of rivers. Long Xuyen is 140km upriver from the coast where the Mekong and its tributaries spill into the East Sea. Even at that distance from the sea, the Hau River is not a small river on its own, but the delta’s main channel, the Mekong River itself, is still larger as it flows by about 20km to the north and east of Long Xuyen.

Long Xuyen is home to a floating market where sellers of local fruits and vegetables meet with buyers on boats in the middle of the Hau River. The man standing on top of the larger boat in the photo above is weighing large bunches of bananas to sell to the man in the smaller boat. He will transport the bananas he buys to the Long Xuyen shore of the river where the bananas will be cut into smaller bunches and be sold to retail buyers in a local wet market.

The floating market opens early and continues to 10 or so in the morning seven days a week. When my brother visited Vietnam in 2018, we made a brief stop in Long Xuyen and took a boat tour through the market. There were a number of boats on the river, though the market area was hardly crowded. We arrived at about 7:30 am on a Sunday morning, and it is very possible Sunday is a slow day.

The friendly young woman in the foreground of the photo below is going from boat to boat in the market selling bowls of noodle soup for breakfast to customers and sellers.

The woman in the next image is making her way to the market area with a selection of drinks for sale.

Hoa My Hung Island sits in the middle of the Hau River, dividing the river into two narrow channels that come together just as the river flows past Long Xuyen. Houses on stilts stand in the water near the river banks. Some households are engaged in fishing, and in addition to having flat bottom fishing boats, some river dwellers use ingenious arrangements of nets deployed below the house to catch or, in some cases, farm fish. Trapdoors in the porches of the houses make both the nets and the catch accessible. I assume most of the people living in these homes depend on the river in one way or another for their livelihoods. Other families may be involved in growing fruits and vegetables on Hoa My Hung Island.

Some houses have satellite dishes providing residents with television and, I presume, internet service.

In the picture below, a family is out fishing. It is Sunday morning so it makes sense that the boy is helping his mom and dad on the weekend. But let’s hope he is able to go to school come Monday morning.

Home Sweet Home, Saigon

An attached house in a small, densely populated neighborhood, part of Saigon’s urban core. Actually, I’m not sure what the correct term is for this kind of residential unit. This home is part of a row of similar units, and there is another row directly on top of this one. Across a narrow lane, there are two more rows of units, one on top of the other. (See the preceding photo post to get the idea.) The families living in this neighborhood almost certainly own their homes, though calling these condos would be misleading at best. Words like apartment or flat suggest rentals, so I settled on attached house, for better or worse. There may be a Vietnamese word that describes this kind of housing, but I don’t know what it might be.

Suburban Pioneers, Da Nang

Why do people choose to build and live in a raw, undeveloped area like this, remote from the city center and almost completely lacking in amenities and services? Money. That is certainly my first guess. Land costs closer to the center of Da Nang are prohibitively high for many Vietnamese families. An area with lower land costs like this one makes home ownership affordable to people who would be hard-pressed to buy in more developed parts of the city. You can be sure the families that have built the homes pictured here expect their investments to appreciate significantly in the years to come. And this will almost certainly happen as more people move to the area and businesses serving the new residents follow in their wake.

Elevated Village, Cambodia

Kampong Phluk village sits on the banks of Tonlé Sap Lake, the largest freshwater body in Southeast Asia. Water levels in the lake vary enormously between the dry season from roughly November to March and the rainy monsoon season from May to October. The Tonlé Sap River connects the lake to the Mekong River and water flows back and forth between the lake and the Mekong in a complex relationship determined by annual rains. The village is set on stilts to keep houses and other structures above the water line during the rainy flood season. I visited in late March when water levels are at their lowest. The woman on the stairs is bouncing back and forth – literally – between different levels of her house, apparently gathering the things needed to make lunch.