"This is the railroad station of a small Japanese town. Life here is something like life in an American small town, only dustier, closer, and poorer. But the same neighborly feelings prevail; there's the same square before the station (eki) with a water trough (chosui-oke), a gas pump (gasorin-stando), and a post box (pos-to). One of the differences is the inevitable black-clothed policeman, who differs greatly from our local village cop. The policemen in a Japanese town are appointed or approved by Tokyo national headquarters (the Home Ministry). They usually don't work for the villagers--the villagers work for them. It's a nice difference . . . nice for the policeman.

This village (mura) is near Yokosuka, one-time great Japanese Naval Base, and now main base for the U.S. Navy's Fleet Activities. Spring, a delightful season in Japan, is on the wing. So is the Corsair overhead, a reminder that the Air Force is still around. The Marine has evidently hired the rickshaw (30 yen for a half hour's ride) and is probably inviting the boy on the bicycle (jitensha) to come along.

Some of the Japanese girls in the background have gotten hold of American-style clothes, to brighten up their womanly qualities--but they still have something to learn about wearing them. It may be many Japanese female figures are too short; too, they have yet to master the American girls’ knack for wearing sports things with informality and charm. A Gallup Poll of Allied Occupation Males would show many of them saying "Keep the pretty ladies in Kimonos”--certainly in Western dress few are competition for nice, tall, milk-fed American Beauties. But a lot of Japanese young women are determined to carry on. They feel, somehow, that skirts and bobby socks are passports to "Democracy," besides being a lot more comfortable than the traditional obi (broad waist band) and long kimono."

From: Grauer, Alvin. So I Went to Japan. Tokyo: Nippon Times, 1947.