Sayonara

It was my last day in Okinawa—more precisely, the Naha markets, since this is where I practically live whenever I’m on the island. It was also the final day of research interviews with my Okinawan colleague, who kindly brought me fresh goya juice she had made, knowing how much I love it, along with a juicy mango from her father’s farm.

I cherished every moment spent researching Naha’s central market, a world of its own, teeming with unique, storyfull humans and characterful more-than-humans (read: cats), all part of a distinctive communicative ecology that has captivated me since I first walked in back in 2017. I loved listening to the stories of multigenerational market vendors, feeling the warmth of the elderly mamas—their tenacity, generosity, and sharp humor. I nourished myself with the market’s food and marveled at how, even after years of visits and months of research, I could still stumble upon something new. With every trip, I noticed details I’d previously overlooked.

The market is a constantly evolving microcosm, like a living organism. At its heart sits the Makishi fish market, while the surrounding arcades sprawl outward like an octopus’s tentacles, each with its own distinct character. From the tourist-heavy front entrances to the quieter, retro-feeling alleys in the back—where locals still gather and mamas sell clothes as they have for decades—to the narrow lanes of izakayas surrounding the fish market , every corner offers something different. Even just three months after my last visit, I spotted new shops and eateries, signs of the market slowly recovering from its post-COVID slump.

While tourism is undeniably the lifeblood of the markets today, glimpses of the past linger in the smaller arcades, where echoes remain of a time when this was the main shopping district for locals—before shopping malls drew people away from central Naha for their daily needs. Still, I’m glad the markets have adapted and found a way forward.

Since my last visit in March 2025, several noticeable changes have occurred in the Naha market area. Back then, many stalls remained closed, but now in July, I’m seeing a surge of new shops, renovations, and overall revitalization—especially in the rear part of the market, traditionally more subdued in terms of pedestrian traffic, activity, and commercial vibrancy.

This section, historically known for kimono shops and beauty parlors—many of which closed down during the COVID-19 pandemic—has undergone a significant transformation. Formerly shuttered storefronts are being converted into izakaya, bars, and small restaurants. This shift has brought increased foot traffic, lighting, and energy to the area, positively impacting surrounding businesses. In conversations with small shop owners, many expressed hope and optimism. They see these developments as opportunities for increased customer flow and a more stable commercial environment.

Interestingly, this area is also evolving into a vintage and ethnically diverse market space. I’ve observed a number of vintage clothing stores, including a large new one alongside long-running smaller boutiques managed by older local women. Additionally, there’s been a rise in ethnic eateries—particularly Indian, Nepalese and Thai restaurants—which may cater not only to tourists but also to the growing Asian migrant worker population in Okinawa.

A notable example of this demographic shift is a young Nepalese woman I met at the Kyrgyz Cookie Store in the back of the market. She mentioned that a number of Nepalese migrants have formed a local association. This suggests an emerging transnational social and economic presence that may play an increasing role in shaping the character of the market. Of particular note is the shared accommodation for Asian women only, right next to the Indian/Nepali restaurant.

At the far end of this section—where the market exits onto a side street—a major residential condominium development is underway. Initially assumed to be a hotel (possibly due to the scale and design), local business owners clarified that it is, in fact, a legitimate high-rise apartment complex, reportedly spanning 19 stories. According to a beautician shop owner nearby, this development is eagerly anticipated by local merchants, who believe it will bring a new wave of residents, thereby revitalizing this long-depressed part of the market.

Another key development is the opening of new hostels and co-working cafés within the market. One hostel, with a built-in café and co-working space, now occupies a site with its main entrance inside the shopping arcade. There is another hostel/café/bar in the smaller near by arcade, close to the exit and the tempura store (this last was one of the venues of the Ocean Festival back in March). These additions not only bring younger, budget-conscious travelers to the area but also increase the market’s daily foot traffic. Guests staying in these hostels can easily access both the newer establishments and long-standing local izakaya and antique shops, deepening their engagement with Okinawan culture.

Overall, what’s emerging is a hybrid landscape: modern residential living, tourist-oriented businesses, vintage and antique shops, migrant-run eateries, and long-established local vendors—all coexisting in a market that once seemed in decline. This blend of new and old, local and global, commercial and cultural, is shaping a dynamic new identity for this part of the Naha market.

Moving forward, it will be important to observe who is driving these changes—whether the businesses are primarily Okinawan-run or operated by mainland Japanese or international entrepreneurs. So far, many of the more “upmarket” souvenir shops, artisan boutiques, and trendy izakaya seem likely to be run by non-Okinawans. This raises interesting questions about cultural representation, economic opportunity, and the future social fabric of the market.

For now, I’m deeply grateful to my colleagues in Okinawa, Ayano Ginoza and Junko Konishi for joining me in this research project, helping document the stories of this extraordinary place. I think they might have caught my “market fever” . Leaving is bittersweet, but I know I’ll be back.