There is a Shinto or Buddhist shrine at every station. After entering a Shinto shrine, one washes one’s hands and mouths at a nearby fountain to be cleansed of impurities. The shrines satisfy all spiritual needs: prayer boxes, offerings, fortune readings and noodle shops. The nearby graveyard reveals how much time families invest in their dearly departed; every grave is adorned with constant supplies of fresh flowers. Places like this make you think of how young America really is. The American Declaration of Independence was signed in 1776, making the USA merely 232 years old. Some of the graves are marked from the 1500s, and shrines have been built, razed by war and re-established for just as long. One restaurant in Shibuya has been run and managed by the same family for 300 years.
Aside from its ancient ceremonies, Tokyo suffices as a consumer fix. A department store in Akihabara (a district) contains practically every type of electronic device, ranging from arm-hair-tweezers (yes, electronic) to table-sized computers. Commercialism is rampant: Imagine a world where it is normal to use 100 dollar bills on vending machines and expect proper change. It’d be proper to say that one can buy anything as long as there is substantial financial backing. A particular district in Tokyo, Ginza, is lined with Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Versace and Armani stores providing the highest quality clothing goods. Fashion creates individuality; everyone seems to put a lot of time and effort into their looks. It feels as if they have an ironclad will to compromise anything to look more attractive. Although the massive amount of shopping is astonishing, what is more impressive is how the Japanese teens somehow procure enough money to buy their overpriced accoutrements.
The Tokyo nightlife is another vice. After work, many company employees take turns buying each other alcohol at a bar or restaurant. This is such a common tradition that it is sometimes considered necessary to drink with co-workers in order to climb the vocational ladder. In one of my classes, people had to fill out anonymously a form of things that they did not want to do but were forced to do in order to be accepted. One student wrote, “I do not want to drink a lot, but my boss makes me.” In Roppongi Hills, a different club or a bar exists every ten feet, and solicitors work all night to hustle potential customers.
There are 30 million people living in this city. Streets are always crowded, and the lights never completely go out. But walking down crowded paths does not subtract from a sense of aloof loneliness. Nobody says “hello” or “good afternoon.” Eye contact is avoided and even seen as confrontational. It is rare to see an average citizen help an elder carry heavy bags or walk across a busy street, but there are existing occupations dedicated to this blood-sport.
Punk and hip-hop are the musical genres of rebellion. The effects of hegemony are apparent in the post-war generations. But one can argue that whatever impact America has had on Japan, the Japanese make an effort to make it uniquely Japanese. The same types of music sound different, the same foods taste different, and the big-city atmosphere feels different; residential buildings fill up narrow streets in between 40-story department stores. Is Tokyo the greatest place to come to see “Japan?” Probably not, but it has been an amazing introduction.