Shopping In Tokyo

This will perhaps be one of the most open, and unabashed public pieces of writing from yours truly. Part of me is shy (believe it or not), but another part of me does not feel that openly divulging my personal feelings benefits anyone. I am really not that interesting, but I am a consummate explorer and sharer. I live to learn and pass it along, just as I learn from the influence of others. Curiously, I’ve always viewed a subject matter pedantically, even if I, myself, am passionate. An example is this site (Shopping in Tokyo), filled with numerous resources. It’s far more matter-of-fact, offering (hopefully) objective information, than it is oozing with the true excitement that I actually feel for this topic. Below, I will attempt to convey my deeply personal feelings regarding the oft perceived crazy side of Tokyo.

So… Tokyo…

The main strip in Ikebukuro

Why?

I have yet to understand the lure of Tokyo and the intense grip that it has on me. Certainly, one might point fingers at the plethora of Samurai movies I watched as a child, or my love of J-pop culture, or my deep respect for Shinto, or my relish over Japanese food, or my zeal over Japanese fashions, or my fascination with Japanese anthropology, or… You get the idea. The reality is that I do not understand Japan or Tokyo’s intense pull on my being. It simply exists.

Over the years, the lure grew stronger, and the Internet assisted me in connecting with others who felt the same as I did and even allowed me to broaden my horizons and interests. But the why – I cannot answer. It’s in my blood, my soul, and every fibre of my being. And it was irrevocably imprinted during my first trip to Tokyo, resonating within me like an endless entrancing chime. I never questioned it. And I never will. It’s a part of who I am.

Akiba!

Expectations

Prior to my first trip to Tokyo, I performed as much research as humanly possibly given what information was available at that time. During the course of this investigation, nothing surprised me, nothing shocked me, and nothing seemed unusual. It was simply the way it was and it all made sense to me. As such, I arrived in Tokyo with no expectations.

Sometimes people arrive in Tokyo expecting craziness everywhere, or an explosion of life as depicted in the manga and anime they love. Some people refuse to respect the Japanese culture and their ways. Some people want to assimilate fully into the Japanese way of life (and are shocked to learn that their very nature, being gaijin, prevents them from doing so in a xenophobic culture). Some people have no idea what to expect and run in terror from the culture shock or embrace all that Tokyo is (or aspects of it).

Just outside the Akihabara train station

I will be the first to say that Tokyo is not for everyone and this is not a conclusion I come to lightly. It’s not one I understand, except insofar as what I have read from the experiences of others. I scratch my head and stare quizzically at the stories people choose to regale others with on the Internet or in print. The stories themselves, I understand, but the extreme reactions of some authors and readers often puzzles me.

The first time I travelled to Tokyo, it honestly felt like coming home. And I am never more at peace, more comfortable, and more settled, than I am while there. Nothing seemed unusual or caused me to quirk my brows. I expected nothing and received everything. I embraced every moment and every experience with an open and non-judgmental mind. Who was I to say that a certain cultural aspect was right or wrong? Yes, I admit, I would like to see the concepts of suicide and honour viewed differently and of course I would like to see women treated better – but it is not my place to begin or join any sort of a campaign to this effect. That’s not my place. That’s not why I am here.

Waiting for the train

I feared for a time that perhaps I wore rose-tinted glasses, preventing me from seeing Tokyo and Japan as it truly was. Certainly, I did not expose myself to every facet of living there, and I’ve always been “just a tourist”. But I did observe the negatives. I did form opinion about those unsavory (to me) aspects of life in Tokyo. So no… I did not have rose-tinted glasses. I simply accepted, absorbed, and moved forward to learn more.

I am an observer, and a subtle teacher (I like to open the minds of others because I arrogantly believe that our true personal power lies in fearless exploration and acceptance of our individual selves). I may have personal feelings and reactions but they are easily swept aside as I search for an understanding within a culture’s history and the events that shaped the culture (in whole and part). And why am I compelled to understand a country so far away from me geographically? Why not Russia, Brazil, or France? I have no idea. Again, this goes back to my core; feeling at ease within the Japanese culture, even despite its myriad of problems (but then, what nation is without problems?).

Life is what it is. Expect nothing, and receive everything.

Kapabashi Street and one of its plastic food vendors

The Same but Different

One of my best friends, Pira, said this to me after her first trip to Tokyo: “It’s the same, but different.” I do not believe anyone can really understand that unless they experience Tokyo themselves, and possibly with an open mind. From behaviours to beliefs to products, life and living in Tokyo is much the same as it is in our Western society, but it’s also different.

You can buy a peanut butter sandwich in a grocery store, but it will have no crusts and the bread is perfectly formed around a pocket of peanut butter. Commuters line up to board a train, but they do so in an orderly fashion. They have toilets but they are either of the fully loaded sit down variety or efficient porcelain models in the floor. They used to have Wendy’s, but their menu was more than just beef burgers and fries.

Again, some visitors to Japan have a difficult time with their perceived differences and write-off Tokyo as CrazyTown. And others view such differences as an opportunity for exploration and understanding or, at the very least, a fascinating journey.

Refreshment time!  Their iced oolong tea was amazing

The Crazy Wacky City of Tokyo

Ahhh yes, there is the hype and perception that Tokyo is sheer lunacy, filled with sexual deviance, bizarre parades, insane game shows, wacky fashions, and crazy culinary dishes. Yes, and no. It’s other peoples’ perceptions that draw these conclusions and perpetuate the hysteria. How often do people sensationalize and ridicule what they do not understand, fear, consider different from their beliefs and so on; all in an effort to either warn others (because anything different is “bad”?), or because they actually have nothing better to do with their lives? Many times! That’s life – everywhere.

Now, this is not to say that Tokyo is actually boring or that its exotic aspects should be ignored. I simply feel that perceived differences should be tempered with an attempt at understanding that there may be a reason for whatever aspect they find so unreal. Even if I do not agree with something, I can at least respect the opinions of others. There is a difference, however, between projecting something that is harmlessly sensational as some sort negative societal influence and something that should be acknowledged and explored further if there is interest. This is perhaps a curious vantage point for me to take given Japan’s own fascination with excesses, glitz and glamour. But the difference is that they do so for entertainment, and for fun (personally, I think it’s a catharsis of sorts for the Japanese, but that’s a whole other topic).

Resting

Returning to the subject at hand – crazy Tokyo. I read with amusement and bemusement some peoples’ lists of “Top 5 or 10 Crazy Things About Japan” and I cannot relate. I laugh at this because sometimes I think there is something very wrong with my perception where I cannot find the same attachment of “crazy” to these cultural “oddities”. My reaction is often: “And that is crazy how?” OR “Oh, interesting, I wonder why and what is the history behind…” Mind, some people have great lists, presented in such a way that only encourages the reader to learn more rather than serve as a warning or proclamation of “Look at how weird this is!”. Weird is good, I say!

I would sooner attach the words amazing, vibrant, or fascinating to the very same attributes someone else would find completely foreign and worthy of ridicule. It really does come down to perception and personal bias. Each of us are shaped by our personal growth and development, and this will, naturally, reflect how we perceive and interact with the world around us.

Embrace what is different and new. Well, at least that’s my motto.

Mutant vegetables, definitely good for large families

So… is there anything really wacky about Tokyo from my point of view? I honestly don’t think so. But there are certainly numerous curiosities that fascinate me endlessly. And this is one of its greatest appeals to me. There is always something new and exciting or old and engaging in Tokyo. I sometimes find the most mundane things absolutely surreal and momentous. Attend:

THE Izakaya

A local expat whom I’m acquainted with in Tokyo, Kevin, took me to the most incredible three floor Izakaya in the heart of Kabuki-cho’s Shomben Yokocho (aka Piss Alley).

The first floor was kitted out with brothel-red chandaliers and extravagant plastic chic décor circa 1970s, with a handful of salarymen at a dark worn bar. The second floor seemed very traditional Japanese with tatami and floor seating arrangements for maybe 12 people. The third wasn’t so much a floor as the rooftop, barely bordered with dilapidated wood fencing and three rickety benches around a makeshift central table.

Clean blankets were on hand to stave off the cool Spring night. A rail line nearby would regularly spring to life with a train, shaking the entire bar as though we were in an earthquake. And looking out from this tiny rooftop in Kabuki-cho? A sea of glass and bright lights the likes of which no cinema could ever capture. I was a miniscule speck, lost in the neon night. I was in love. So much so that I actually video recorded my intoxicated declaration with Kevin, whom I would have to wrestle for the privilege of fantasy-owning this bar.

Shoe candy

There was a young Japanese couple who shared the roof with us, and they asked why, of all the places available in this vicinity, would we choose this bar to frequent? Kevin and I both shared the same response: Because it’s cool. Yes, it’s much more than that, but this was real. It was bare. No glitz or glamour to sustain it. It simply was. And in that simplicity was more character than I could find at most clubs.

Yes, we could have gone to a nearby dance bar, or a karaoke place, or any of the hundreds of other establishments that perhaps had more to offer most people. But I’ve little interest in those places. There was just something so indescribable, so alive, so amazing about drinking Ginger & Grand Marnier on a tiny should-be-condemned Izakaya in the heart of Tokyo’s entertainment district, surrounded by neon lights that stretched on forever and felt close enough to touch from this ramshackle rooftop.

This was real. This was Tokyo. And it owned my soul. In fact, it still does and I suspect it always will.

At the Vancouver Airport — always happy to be going to Tokyo

But… The Crazy… What About The Crazy?

Quickly demystified, I say. An example would be…

Love Hotels

Most people, when they first hear about love hotels in Tokyo, imagine lurid clandestine meetings between lovers cheating on their spouses or co-workers. And what? People in Western society do not meet with their lovers in motels on the edge of town? But that is not the reason for love hotels.

Space is a premium in Tokyo and it’s not uncommon for several generations to live under the same roof in a home with (literally) paper thin walls. Can you imagine wanting to have some serious sexual fun while Grandma or even your parents are sitting at the kotatsu in the next room?

Couples from all ages, professions and walks of life frequent love hotels simply for the privacy they offer. And since the Japanese make no bones about what these places are used for, they often dress them up with various themes and exotic décor.

You will also often find adult media shops next to love hotels, for the salaryman on a quick break, who wants a little uninterrupted self-love.

And sometimes, love hotels are used by hostesses who take their clients to the next (usually forbidden) level. Which brings about another oft sensationalized cultural aspect…

Somewhere… in Tokyo

Hostesses

Hostesses, quite simply, allow a man to buy a relationship. For as long as they pay, they have the undivided and devoted attention of a woman who tells them how absolutely amazing they are. King for a moment, I suppose. In the end, it’s an ego stroke. The other type of stroking is not permitted (usually) but often alluded to in order to keep the customer returning for another date.

One would think the salaryman could achieve the same doting affection from a wife or girlfriend. This assumes he has a partner, which, many jobs do not permit – and what I infer is that most Japanese salarymen work obscenely long hours, preventing any sort of a real relationship. And if they are married or with a girlfriend, one can presume they spend the first hour or so after returning home being berated for their prolonged absences.

Hostesses provide a much-needed fantasy that gives a salaryman the strength to go on. There’s a shocking conclusion, ne?

I love the presence of so many shrines

In Conclusion

I love Tokyo. Even with its perceived faults, I find life in Tokyo is more sane and logical than any other place I’ve been to or lived. The “crazy” is easily comprehended, and there is much beauty to be found in the simple as well as the sublime. I can be enraptured in the frenetic pace, carried by the intense energy or I can sit ensconced on shrine grounds, marvelling at the constant attention given the sacred space by the caretakers.

Tokyo makes my soul sing. For the positives and negatives, the crazy and sane. Tokyo is in my blood.  I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Related posts:

1. Tokyo City Atlas: A Bilingual Guide