Melodies of 1960’s pop hit tinkle from the speakers along Ookayama’s
shotengai (shopping street). A village-like area home to young students, families and older generations who grew up in the neighborhood, Ookayama has an easy ambiance to it a small-town hush that makes it feel almost like a separate entity to the high-speed living of the city.
Ookayama Station shares the stunning eco-friendly building designed by architect Yasuda Koichi with Tokyu Hospital. Photo by Rebecca Saunders
It’s surprising then that Ookayama Station is served by two busy train lines: the Tokyu Oimachi Line and Tokyu Meguro Line. It’s a stop on both lines’ express services, making it a popular commuter town. The station is built under the Tokyu Hospital, a stunning architecture draped in a green ivy facade. Although straddling the border between Meguro and Ota wards, the town of Ookayama is officially in Meguro. It’s not all about commuters though; Ookyama is home to the prestigious Tokyo I
karintō (fried dough), sugar candies in various shapes and even
senbei (rice crackers).
Observing this flurry of life, it’s hard to believe
dagashiya (candy stores) like Inagaki are in decline: According to government data, the number of dagashiya has declined from 228,123 in 1972 to just 74,304 in 2016. Though comparatively unknown outside of Japan, dagashi are bright, plentiful and inexpensive, and today you can find dagashi in any 100-yen store or
konbini (convenience store). That may be part of the problem.
“Dagashi are sweets that somehow were considered nonstandard from an elite or adult perspective, like a horse that one is not meant to ride,” explains Eric Rath, professor of history at the University of Kansas, alluding to the fact that the “