My sweet ride here in Shizuoka is a bike loaned to me from a generous friend—and I am thankful for it…most of the time. Its seat is terribly uncomfortable and the deteriorating metal basket is a tetanus infection waiting to happen, but it gets me and my stuff around town when needed.
Affectionately called the
mamachari (a combination of “mama” and “charinko”, which is a slang term for bicycle), this style of cruiser bike is everywhere—on every street, in front of every building—used as a main mode of transport for not only mamas (who can carry either one or
two kids aboard in baskets on the front and back of the bike), but for everyone from junior high kids to salarymen to elderly ladies on their way to the pachinko parlor.
Most bikes come outfitted with at least one basket and a bell needed for the sometimes crowded sidewalks, and most also have built-in locking systems so the bikes can stand freely while locked, as I'd imagine that installing enough racks for tethering all the bikes in Japan could drain the steel resources of southeast Asia. In winter months, bike mitts are another popular addition, ensuring toasty hands!
Bikes get stolen here, but not by criminals…my bike disappeared from in front of a downtown shopping center because I had parked unknowingly in a 2-hour-maximum bike parking zone when I went to Fujieda for meetings for the day. After consulting the ever-helpful Shizuoka City Association for Multicultural Exchange (SAME) office and giving a very detailed description of the bike to a woman at the office to give to a man on the phone, I was directed to the bike confiscation warehouse, a vast building at the edge of the city center where thousands of bikes are lined up by date and location collected. So after showing the bike police that my key indeed opened the bike’s lock, and after getting a lecture and a map explaining the two-hour parking zones of Shizuoka’s city center, I paid 2,000 Yen (about $20) and got my bike back. I had to show the attendants my I.D. and give them my Japanese address, so unfortunately I’m
in the system now. And from what I gathered from the lecture and accompanying documents, my next violation comes with a 10,000 Yen fine…in that event, I think I’ll just forfeit my ride instead.
I dream of my shiny, fabulous road bike, neglected in storage in Eau Claire...
P.S. I saw this barnacled beast pulled from the ocean in Shimizu!
Bikes get stolen here, but not by criminals…my bike disappeared from in front of a downtown shopping center because I had parked unknowingly in a 2-hour-maximum bike parking zone when I went to Fujieda for meetings for the day. After consulting the ever-helpful Shizuoka City Association for Multicultural Exchange (SAME) office and giving a very detailed description of the bike to a woman at the office to give to a man on the phone, I was directed to the bike confiscation warehouse, a vast building at the edge of the city center where thousands of bikes are lined up by date and location collected. So after showing the bike police that my key indeed opened the bike’s lock, and after getting a lecture and a map explaining the two-hour parking zones of Shizuoka’s city center, I paid 2,000 Yen (about $20) and got my bike back. I had to show the attendants my I.D. and give them my Japanese address, so unfortunately I’m in the system now. And from what I gathered from the lecture and accompanying documents, my next violation comes with a 10,000 Yen fine…in that event, I think I’ll just forfeit my ride instead.
i love that you said "sweet ride" -- it reminds me of Napoleon Dynamite!
ReplyDeleteFascinating post about bikes...who would have thought that bikes could reveal so much about a culture?