This story was rewritten from a scan of an old magazine
I’d love to see that woman again. She’s a stripper known as the “banana cutter.”
You don’t see that kind of lamentable, pathetic performance in the more isolated strip theaters these days.
Inserting the banana into the depths of his lower body, he exerted all his strength, held on, worked hard, and with a hard and painful expression on his face, soon broke the banana into three pieces like a guillotine, at which point the young American soldiers made exclamatory noises and nodded their heads to show their appreciation.
In the center of Okinawa City, which is located in a simple hut, there is an avenue called “Park Avenue”.
Eight years ago, this road was called “BCStreet”, and until Okinawa was returned to Japan, there were more than 100 stores along the road.
These include licensed bars, dance halls, dining halls, eating and drinking establishments, etc. that cater exclusively to U.S. troops and U.S. military families.
KOZA City (now Okinawa City) was known as the “city that never sleeps”.
Nowadays, the area is filled with boutiques of local products and fashion stores popular with young people, and has become the “Harajuku” of Okinawa.
I was born in Urasoe City, Okinawa, a 20-minute drive from here, and my father was a Filipino who came to Okinawa in 1948 after crossing the sea as an engineer for a family member of the British Army.
The family lived in Okinawa until I was five years old and my father lost his career.
After that, I moved to my mother’s hometown, Amami Oshima, and spent my teenage years there. However, in the past few years, I have passed through Okinawa several times, and this time I extended my stay for the purpose of obtaining information so that I could get a clear picture of Okinawa on the occasion of the 20th anniversary of the return of the island to the mainland.
In what was once a myriad of crowded, noisy A, S, and B bars in the middle of Park Avenue, there are now only eight nightclubs targeting the U.S. military.
I walked into one of these.
There are only the owner and his wife, who are Okinawans, and about ten Filipino ladies in the store, and there are no customers at all.
The Filipino lady was boisterous in Tagalog, obscene primary-colored red spotlights shone on the empty stage, and now that the value of things has risen and the dollar has fallen, American soldiers are less and less able to spend and spread their money around as they used to.
Inevitably that store can only employ that cheap Filipino women.
While I buried my body deep into the box seat, two of the ladies took a seat next to me in a deadly white bar.
Drinks are expensive, a small beer costs $4.50 sen dollars.
The two ladies were given a Coke in a small glass, which cost me six dollars.
The ladies told me that one is from the Makati area of Manila and the other is from Semilonggu.
As a result of the eruption of the Mount Pinazibo volcano in June last year, a flow of rocks from the volcano washed away their homes.
The one with the “banana cutters” was the third nightclub I found.
The road in front of this nightclub leads to the Gapina Air Force Base gate.
Brand new nightclub that opened only a few months ago.
This area seems to symbolize the present-day ko tea, but there are only a few figures, cold and idle.
When pushing open the door of the nightclub, violently rushed out the heavy bass beat of that strong disco music, breaking the silence around.
There were no Japanese tourists in the store, and there were a few or so young American soldiers, both white and black, who seemed very lively.
There are several escorts from the Philippines in all of these stores.
In the depths of the store in front of the bar counter stood a woman in a suite of suits with short, doll-like dreadlocks that looked familiar to me.
She is the “banana cutter girl”.
The 18th “Banana Show” began with a lot of “wah wah” calls and applause from the American soldiers.
First, he quickly peeled off the banana skin and very slickly inserted the banana deep into his lower body.
It’s like a little rocket that shoots out at least two meters or so.
Then came the other main event of the show.
A white U.S. soldier is invited onto the stage and asked to lie on his back, his belt is quickly loosened, his manhood is pulled out of it, and he is rubbed against it with a banana and a beer bottle.
But, mercilessly, the object did not show the slightest sign of standing.
The store was filled with shouts mixed with jeers at the prospect of being humiliated.
That American soldier seems to have decided to call it a day.
The “banana cutter” spread her legs across the soldier’s face, and put one of the cut bananas into her mouth with a great gesture, and seemed to eat it with great relish.
This woman’s stage name is Yumiko.
“It’s been more than twenty years since I came to the main island of Okinawa from Yaeyama, and a man of my age can’t satisfy an audience by just stripping. Recently, the dollar has been in a recession and the situation is not good. So I can’t do it without some other skills. For this “banana show”, I went to Taiwan to seek for skills. I sweated and bled hard to learn. I really sweated blood. I can still write with this pen.”
Then she added, “Next time you come here, I’ll show you how to open a Coke bottle cap.”
She stood there with a smile on her face. Kocha City, once known as the “Street of Desire” and the “Street of Dollars,” had disappeared, almost without a trace.
The only thing that remains is the “banana slut” performed by the woman.
Greeting customers with the appearance of a bar, the room inside is the skinny body of an escort.
I have been to Yoshiwara in Okinawa City, Zenigahara in Ginowan City, and even to Tokanase in Naha City.
All three of these places are “backstreets” for Japanese, meaning that they are places where prostitutes sell their wares. Compared to Yoshiwara and Tokanose, the women in Zenigahara are younger, better looking, and are said to be university students.
They are unashamedly trying to do this “part-time job”.
“I want to save some money and open a boutique.” That’s how two white-collar ladies who work in office jackets during the day explain it.
However, Zenigahara itself is an extremely popular sightseeing spot among Japanese nationals, and even baseball players go there for training.
Sadly, in Tokanose, an area that is about to become a bustling international boulevard, it is only this “backstreet” that seems to have the illusion that time has stopped, and a large shopping mall group has taken part in the construction.
Soon this place Ken will be a parking lot.
Looking down from the high-rise building, a heavy, painful and empty atmosphere hangs over the social street, which is covered with red white tin roofs.
“5,000 dan for 15 minutes.” This was the price of merchant crystals worth for those girls in Yoshiwara, Zenigahara, and other places.
Yoshiwara’s MISAKO (29), who has the same sturdy, fabulous body that former women’s combat wrestler DAPNPU Matsumoto has.
She said, “I wanted to get a driver’s license, which would have cost me at least D600,000, but it turned out to be nothing. I got into this business for the money. Because it enabled me to get money faster… and to reassure my parents in Miyakojima…”
Natsu (44), who works at a bar that opens on a long, gentle slope, is a conversation whore.
“Men and cigarettes can be quit, it’s just the booze that won’t do the trick anyhow. It’s my mother who passed on my bad luck when it comes to men!” She tells of herself in this way.
Two divorces and seven attempted suicides.
Drinking salt water after cutting her veins and taking poison to kill herself have severely damaged her body and her life. She a whore type of talking head opponent who has had her fill of life’s travails.
In the post-war period, the “banana cutters” who supported Okinawa with their “inter-share economy” and the women they met in Yoshiwara and Zenigahara who were “trading without capital” did not live sloppily or carelessly, but took their trade seriously and worked hard with humility. However, they did not live sloppily or carelessly, and did not give up on themselves, but took their profession seriously and worked hard with a sense of humility.
Okinawa Showdown, U.S. Occupation.
Then the return to the mainland, this repetition of fate, at the same time, for these strong, strong women, Okinawa, which has been a few years after the return, what a long history of change.