I love Tokyo. And I must confess: I
was skeptical that I would. Two years ago on this trip, we traveled to Osaka,
the fourth largest city in Japan, and I didn’t love it. Almost no one spoke
English (which I realize is my limitation, not theirs). The city was way
crowded. It had little unique personality, as far as I could tell. It seemed
like a giant American metropolis with people who are obviously kind but cannot
communicate with you.
Tokyo seems worlds apart from its
sister. More people speak English there, though still, far fewer than you would
think. I remember being taught in grade school that the Japanese were teaching
their children English and Western traditions in an effort to compete with us
economically (something they clearly have no trouble doing). But if you’ve
never been to Japan, you may be surprised to learn that very few people speak “our”
language.
Tokyo just seems more efficient and
more cognizant of what it wants to be than Osaka or, frankly, most American
cities. Most of the restaurants and clubs seat just a handful of people. Real
estate is precious. But businesses nonetheless flourish. They serve a
particular clientele, who keep them busy. Genuine Japanese food can be quite
good, though the nation seems to have fallen for America’s crippling love of
fried foods. Virtually every restaurant prominently features fried dark-meat
chicken, and the fat and skin of the bird typically appear in the nuggets. (I
read decades ago that one consequence of the Japanese incorporating some
American traditions into their lifestyles was a spike in the incidence of heart
ailments. I suspect fried chicken plays a major role in that.
As one example of this “smaller is
better” mentality, we dined at a restaurant near our centrally located hotel
called “Sushi Isshin” that is a Michelin-starred restaurant. (Tokyo, by far the
largest city on the planet, now has the most Michelin-starred restaurants,
exceeding even Paris.) This restaurant had great reviews and was very close by.
We were late to dinner (which involves a particular seating because the menu is
a prix fixe set of 10 to 20 sushi courses (most of which just involve a single
sushi piece). We couldn’t find the place. It turned out being a tiny room in an
apartment down an alley that seats only 10 people. You sit around the slicing
area and the chef hands you each course from his spot behind the counter immediately
after he prepares it. You can’t get fish any fresher than we had it there. The
dinner was magnificent! I’m not a huge sushi fan. I like gourmet sushi, though
it’s not my favorite dish. I can’t stomach fast food sushi. But the sushi we
had at this Tokyo restaurant was the best meal I’ve had on the trip.
Now, back to this organized,
efficient Tokyo lifestyle. Take the gay area of town, for instance. (Now don’t
panic, Brother Harry fans. I was there purely to witness. I love witnessing in
establishments where only half the congregation is kneeling.) There are, of
course, mammoth nightclubs where people dance. But the gay bar section of
non-dance clubs literally consists of four blocks on a single street. And yet,
there are over 200 bars there. Let me say that again. Over 200 gay bars are
situated on four city blocks of a single street. They extend upwards to six
stories. Each bar seats only a handful to a dozen people. They are neighborhood
bars which obviously feature largely the same clientele all day. Some are
actually themed bars. They are much like the handkerchiefs in the 1970s.
Remember
those, gay boys? No matter what sexual act you were into, there was a specific
handkerchief color and design for you. If you preferred to be the dominant
partner in the act, you wore the cloth in your left back pocket. If you liked
being the submissive member, you wore it in the right back pocket.
Well,
in Tokyo, there is a tiny bar just for people who enjoy your fetish. And
someone will ask you when you arrive what precisely you are into. The person
may even seat you next to someone who compliments your interest. Just don’t
assume they love Western white boys, though. Given the small nature of the
bars, I have been told they will sometimes decline to serve Westerners in favor
of their regular clientele. Whereas the Japanese in America are often into
large white men, the Japanese in Japan appear to be into svelte Japanese men.
I’m just reporting what I heard from the locals. I’m too old to turn heads even
if the group has a fetish for white men who can’t help but say “y’all”
repeatedly, even when in a foreign country.
I
spent most of my time in the city just wandering around, speaking to
proprietors and customers of various places. At one point, I had a snack at a
lesbian restaurant that I didn’t realize was a lesbian restaurant until I
entered. It was quite large by Japanese standards and had more male patrons
than female patrons. But it doesn’t take long for me to realize when I’m in a
G, L, B or T establishment. Perhaps one giveaway was the place’s infatuation with
Madonna (meaning it had to feature either lesbians or nelly retro queens). The
walls had photos of no one but Madonna, ranging from her younger years to the
present. The television played footage from a recent Madonna concert nonstop. I
asked the proprietor about this and she said Madonna is loved there, and
frankly throughout Japan. I must confess that all the music videos I saw in
bars were of American singers and principally of contemporary American divas.
This, despite the fact that few of the people watching these videos speak the
language being sung.
One
final note in the form of a stereotype, if I may. I generally eschew
stereotyping, though I’m more willing to do it when the judgment is of a
positive nature. The Japanese – at least the folks I encountered in Japan – are
thoroughly delightful. When we traveled to Osaka a few years ago, Bill Chalmers,
who directs this trek, said we should avoid asking any “yes” or “no” questions,
particularly if we were interested in directions. The Japanese cannot say “no.”
It’s not in their nature. They want to be helpful and kind and saying something
negative, even if merely to tell you your directions are off, is something
they’re reluctant to do. (This, of course, contrasts sharply with our own
country where we’re willing to unfriend people on Facebook simply for posting a
political meme we don’t like.)
I was a bit surprised by all of this
two years ago because a dear friend of mine, Kevin (whose last name I will omit
to avoid being sued by him), someone who is as liberal and enlightened as the
day is long, hates Japanese tourists. He attributes Japanese tourists to every
evil he has encountered when traveling. He says they get in his way with their
incessant photo-taking, they push him out of lines and away from art objects,
they have disrupted plane flights by trying to get their luggage before the plane
reached the gate. He even says he saw a Japanese tourist slicing off part of
the Rosetta Stone at the National Museum in London before they put the object
under glass. Sorry, Kevin, but I find the Japanese to be charming. Perhaps
there is some koolaid the airlines make them drink on the way to Western
locales….
As
I’ve said before, I view this annual trek as something in the nature of a
survey course. You decide where you might return based on a few days in each
place on this trip. Tokyo is definitely a place to which I would consider
returning.
