The peoples' democratic blog of Matt Hayward

It’s said absence makes the heart grow fonder. I can vouch that this is absolutely true of Japan. After visiting in 1991 I have vowed to go back. Despite a high Aussie dollar making Europe being relatively accessible I finally succumbed to the addiction in May of 2010. Some itches have to be scratched.

It’s not difficult to be a Japanophile. Far beyond the desert bling of the middle east Japan manifests everything that’s good in this world, whilst hiding its brutality in plain sight. Perhaps Japan was the first Asian country to binge on Western opulence; to celebrate en primeur French champagne vintages, gorge itself on grain fed beef and the latest flaunt Louis Vuitton handbags. They still do this in abundance, but in a world of Cantopop and Asian subtleties Japan has no problem expressing each and every pop cultural phenomenon known to man. All with a dedication that is inspirational rather than insipid.   It seems the Chinese copy their style in a muted, toned down inoffensive way, but are yet to add anything to the palette. That’s what makes Japan so amazing.

Walking through the streets of Ginza in Tokyo, on the surface little has changed. Cadillac Escalades drive past Italian wine bars all the time while bums sell papers on the street. At night those same bums are there sleeping in makeshift tents, having barely moved an inch. Unlike Japan of nearly 20 years ago, even Ginza shows signs of hard times. Once famous for $20 coffees, the lofty mock Fifth Avenue Ginza now has senior citizens working the local McDonalds and espresso served at highly reasonable prices. A highly obvious sign that while Ginza carries on, Japan’s economy has peaked. The Chinese might not rock as hard as their Japanese contemporaries and they don’t care. They’re too busy cashing in.

Maybe all this reality has caused Japan to sober up and take a good look at itself. Japan 1991 had beer (and we all know what else) vending machines on every corner. Cocky black suited salary men laughed and jeered their way to Friday chain smoking their way through the day. The streets were a pastiche of urban grey and telephone hooker ads while perverts blatantly read porn on the train. It was taboo for women to walk into pachinko parlors while Sylvester Stallone plugged cup noodles for tens of millions of dollars. I am here to confirm that this Japan no longer exists.

Smokers are now tucked into a yellow rectangle on the street in a scene that resembles more Singapore than Shinjuku. Smoking in public is otherwise restricted. On the subway, there are women only train carriages serving as a salvation from ’sukebe’ salary men. While not on the subways, the women now hit the pachinko parlors. But that’s not really the point. There are probably more sleazy dives than ever in Tokyo. They’re only in plain site if you go to the sleazier sides of town where foreigners aren’t always welcome and seldom venture. But the sleaze used to be so rife it would stick to your shoes.

With peripheral vision, more detail becomes clear. Japan is not staffed by Japanese any more. Toyota town Nagoya is home to 60,000 Brazilian workers manning the lines at Toyota plants. Indian workers off shore their IT. Filipino nurses, maids and strippers speak Japanese better than their native Tagalog.  For all intents, it’s harder than ever to be a working class Japanese than ever when ‘made in Japan’ doesn’t mean ‘made by Japanese’. It seems to have affected the Japanese psyche. Or at least their travel schedule as the few remaining ‘job for life’ salarymen flock on the next flight to China to check on their factories.

All is not lost though. Trendy Harajuku caters to freaks well. It has a massive open park which serves up carte blanche freaks indulging in Jamaican dance hall reggae, 50s  rock and roll dancers and hip hop dance crews. Harajuku will cater to anyones’ peccadillo anytime. They even have a kebab van. All this and all the ostentatious fashion you can point a stick at. A great chunk of Japan’s Gross Domestic Product is no longer technology but is cutesy Japanese schmaltz. Hello Kitty is now to Japan what supercomputers and semiconductors used to be. Forget feudal dynasties, we have entered the ‘kireii’ era of Japan.

Even if they’ve lost their chintz, the trains still run like clockwork every three minutes. They look dated but are still immaculate. Each runs to endless shopping malls of hyaku-en (dollar shops) stores and super glitzy shopping malls. Scattered amongst them are restaurants that serve fantastic quality food. On any given Friday you can eat kaisen sets (a Japanese meal of several courses elegantly presented in a box with several draws, originally intended for regal types) for a pittance. Good time restaurants serve a crazy mix of deep fried treats and beer by the pitcher that has that healthy mix of up market workers’ bar and Japanese quirkiness. Seems the elixir for a Japan that works far harder for less than ever.

Perhaps it was unrealistic to expect the same experience from Japan 20 years later. Technologically it has peaked. They no longer seem to ridiculously pander to gaijin. The Tokyo horizon may not change each year with burgeoning construction like Shanghai. The Yuen may be mitier than ever but for all the grim realities, Japan is still a fabulous fusion of the finest of Asian and Western cultures. With Swiss precision they find a niche and place for everything, yet still remain quintessentially their own ubiquitous identity. And while Japan will never be cheap – just cheaper – it’s still as much fun as ever. God bless the people of the sun. The Chinese can only imitate you.