Kin Town Flea Market

The old adage about ‘one man’s trash being another man’s treasure’ is plainly evident while strolling through an old style flea market. There, attics and garages are emptied and expectant vendors lay out their wares in hopes that someone will want what they sell badly enough to actually shell out cash.

Hope, the impulse to collect, and raw need, being perpetual human attributes, combine to form the engine that keeps these ragtag events alive and thriving.

Surely there are those who wander through the stalls, deliciously feeling the thrill of the hunt, peering and poking under the jumble of goods hoping that a gem has somehow escaped the knowledge of the seller and the eyes of some other savvy buyer.

There are others whose impulse to collect extends to things unfathomable to many – string, buttons, obscure novels, toy soldiers and such – while others desire items somewhat easier to understand, such as coins, stamps, art.

Still others haunt the cacophony of offerings in search of reasonably priced and still usable common necessities like pots and pans, baby bassinets, clothes for fast growing families.

But there are still others who enjoy the mere pleasure of experiencing the amazing variety of stuff that is created, imagined, and utilized by the fascinating species to which we belong.

Whatever the motive, flea markets are interesting environments and, although many exist, none can surpass the character of some you can discover on the byroads of Okinawa.

Take the one at Kin Town on Highway 329 heading north to Camp Hansen. It is the epitome of funky on the exterior, a conglomeration of canvas, tarp and seemingly extemporaneous construction. But disembark from your chariot, adventurer, and step into another world so full of just ‘stuff’ that it almost raises a raucous music of its own.

There is some semblance of order. In the main section, fruits and vegetables, mostly homegrown, occupy the first irregular aisles, but beyond them anything goes.

So take your time to look around. While some of the inside merchandise matches the funkiness of the exterior there is lots of really nice booty to peruse. Check out the snakeskin wallets and the skillful handiwork on the shanshin banjoes. Take a careful look at the clothing in the back. It looks new, and probably is, and would cost you a pretty penny, or yen, in a classy department store.

Don’t neglect to browse through Tomishige Umosa’s collection of vinyl records. Elvis is in there and old Beatles, too. Examining the American coins in a box nearby you may notice a slew of Liberty head dimes. He says he used to drive a taxi over thirty years ago and got them as payment for fares. There are misprinted twenty-dollar bills as well, but you’d be well advised to know what you’re looking at before you lay out the price.

Elsewhere, Buddha figures repose next to well-used baseball gloves, and the eclectic variety of objects would put an old fashioned dime store to shame.

On your way out be sure to pick up produce so fresh you’d have to grow it yourself to get fresher.

Immediately south of the main stall section is another informal construction housing live plants, including cacti. Inside, another sensory assault waits. Ceramic pots, statuary, knickknacks, polished natural wood shapes, all covered in dust make it appear as if the things have been there for centuries. It is so much that your eyes may have a hard time finding something to settle on, but try. At the very least you will be pleasantly amused. And maybe you’ll find something you just can’t live without.

You’ll find this oasis of stuff just about half a kilometer north of Expressway Exit 8 at Kin Town. It is fully open on weekends, closed on Mondays, and some hawkers will be there the rest of the week.