Keiko Nakamura– Author –

Every autumn, the internet floods with shaky phone videos from Osaka. They all show the same thing: immense, intricately carved wooden floats, weighing up to four tons, being hauled through impossibly narrow streets at a full sprint. Men...

You hear it everywhere. At the standing-only izakaya in Kyobashi, squeezed between salarymen laughing over highballs. In the frenetic, covered arcades of the Shinsaibashi-suji, shouted between shopkeepers. You even hear it from the frien...

You’re standing in a local shotengai, a covered shopping arcade humming with the rhythm of daily life. You pick up a daikon radish. It’s a perfectly normal, respectable daikon. The shop owner, a woman with a smile etched into her face by...

You feel it before you see it. A wave of sound—clattering plates, booming laughter, the sharp hiss of a deep fryer—spills out from under a faded blue noren curtain, carrying with it the scent of grilled meat and stale cigarette smoke. Yo...

Welcome to Osaka, a city that moves to its own distinct rhythm. If you’ve spent any time here, especially after coming from Tokyo, you’ve probably felt it. It’s in the way people walk, the way they talk, and the way they do business. And...

Step off the train in Osaka, and the air feels different. It’s not just the humidity hanging thick in the summer or the scent of takoyaki sizzling on a hot plate. It’s the sound. A symphony of boisterous greetings, rumbling bicycle bells...

Walk down any residential street in Osaka, away from the neon glow of Dotonbori, and you might see it. A classic temple-style roof, a modest curtain fluttering in the doorway, maybe a tall, slender chimney standing quiet sentinel. This i...

When you tell someone you live in Japan, and specifically Osaka, a certain image flashes in their mind. It’s a riot of neon, a chaotic symphony of sizzling street food stalls, of people talking a little too loud and laughing a little too...

Welcome to Osaka, where the ink on your business card is still drying, but the expectation to land a punchline is already in the air. If your image of a Japanese office is one of silent, harmonious deference, where feedback is cushioned ...

When you first move to Osaka, you notice them immediately. They're on street corners, tucked into the echoing arcades of the shotengai, and clustered around train stations. I'm talking about the takoyaki stands, their red lanterns glowin...

When you first hear the word ‘Kuidaore’, it paints a vivid, almost cartoonish picture. The term, famously slapped onto Osaka like a brand name, translates to ‘eat till you drop’ or, more accurately, ‘to ruin oneself by extravagance in fo...

Step off the train at any station in Osaka, from the urban canyons of Umeda to the quiet residential lanes of Tennoji, and the first thing you'll notice isn't the architecture or the advertisements. It's the bicycles. They’re everywhere,...