The Dichotomies of Japan
I was fortunate to travel a lot as a child. Every other winter, my parents would take us on a trip to Central America instead of celebrating the Christmas holidays. I've written about a formative trip to Morocco in 2017 and traveling with my mother in Ghana in 2019. But this was the first two-week international trip I’ve taken with my wife.
This trip was our honeymoon, though we got married in March (and I didn't realize that you're supposed to take your honeymoon immediately after the wedding).
In any event, we’re just home from two weeks in Japan.
Use of AI
A few different friends had a lot of advice to share before our trip. Two friends have lived in Japan for extended periods, and a lot of people I know are Japanophiles. After the trip, I begin to understand why.
We bought our flights in and out of Japan in the spring, but did no planning (I mean literally zero organizing) until three weeks before our scheduled departure. Then I spent one somewhat manic 12-hour day planning and booking the entirety of the trip.
That brings me to my first topic: using AI to plan an international trip.
I trained a single chat instance of an LLM on all of our travel preferences and used that thread to guide our journey beforehand and throughout the trip. That single thread (which twice exceeded its context window) planned our travel, translated street signs and washing machine kanji, and gave me recommendations for daily activities based on our stated preferences.
I had heard that AI is a good travel guide, and was still blown away by the tour guide in my pocket.
Structure of Our Trip
We started our trip flying from San Francisco to LA to Tokyo and then, on the same day, taking a 2-hour flight across the country to the south island of Kyushu.
We were interested in starting somewhere very different from the typical cities people visit: Kyoto and Tokyo. We chose the Aso region of Kyushu, which is one of the largest volcano calderas in the world.
For more than 2,000 years, people have been farming in the remnants of an active volcano area. The region consists of grasslands surrounded by steep mountains and provides a glimpse into historic, rural Japan.
From Aso, we rented a car and drove north towards Yufuin and the coastal city of Beppu, and then took trains to Hiroshima, Kyoto, and Tokyo. This allowed us to structure the trip from the most rural region of our journey to the most urban.
Another dimension of this route was from old to new. Every aspect of Japan was an infusion of thousands of years of history and very modern design. But as we traveled from Kyushu to Tokyo we saw a gradual transition from history through to fast-paced modernism and the present.
A Philosophy of Travel
Twice in the last three months, people have recommended to me a novel approach to international travel: start in the most remote region and then slowly move more central to the city of your arrival.
The purpose is to get as much culture shock as possible right at the beginning of the trip: go to the area that is furthest away from a central urban hub (likely the airport that you fly into) and see the weirdest, most remote elements of your journey right at the beginning.
When I traveled to Morocco in 2017, we did the typical thing and spent several days in Marrakech before adventuring out to the Sahara and more remote regions. Still, the single most unusual experience I had through the entirety of the trip was the first night when I walked into the town center. As my dad said in that moment, “You’re not in Kansas anymore!”
For our honeymoon, we followed the “go remote, first” recommendation almost exactly. In a single day, we went as far afield as possible and then slowly made our way back to Tokyo over the course of two weeks.
Having done so, my philosophy now is a bit different from the original recommendation of remote, first. I suggest weirdest first, then more familiar.
I think it is useful to create culture shock right at the beginning of a trip so that when you get back to the arrival city, you're more accustomed to the unusualness of the country you’re visiting. But I think that aiming for weirdness first is a more accurate way to experience this.
Dichotomies of the Present
Over the last week, a lot of people have asked, "How was your trip?" The thing I've found myself saying the most often is that I was amazed at the dichotomies of the country of Japan.
Japan is a study in contrasts.
In the city of Fez, Morocco, I was amazed by the thousands of years of history: humans have walked those streets beyond human memory. That agelessness is omnipresent throughout the country.
By contrast, buildings and temples in Japan are old and everybody knows exactly how old they are. We visited countless centuries-old temples, with plaques on the wall noting the day construction began, the day construction was finished, and the three times since the building had to be rebuilt due to fires or fighting.
We would be walking down the street in Kyoto, look around, and unexpectedly see one of the largest wooden buildings in the world surrounded by condos, shops, and wooden houses.
In Japan, history is a part of everyday life.
Rabbit Holes
Another fun use of AI throughout my trip was the ability to research anything at any time. When I had a question about a shrine that we walked past, I could take a picture and immediately get an essay about the region, the shrine, and its history. When I became interested in the yakuza, I could follow that rabbit hole as far down as I wanted to go.
In the Aso region, I learned about calderas around the world and about rice farming. I learned how carefully water is cultivated in Japan in order to flood rice fields at the right time, but make sure that rice is not subjected to over-flooding or too much wind as a result of typhoons. (There was a typhoon in the Pacific during part of our trip.)
In using public transportation in Japan, I was able to explore why high-speed rail failed in California but succeeded throughout Japan.
None of these were as nuanced as the first-person accounts I heard through some of the guided tours that we took in Hiroshima and Tokyo. (I especially recommend FreeTour.com for tip-based tours almost anywhere.) And I learned more deeply about specific topics through books about geisha culture, the yakuza, and the history of Japan. But the ability to research any curiosity with AI was incredible.
Japan’s Pink Market
I didn't realize before our trip that prostitution is semi-legal. In fact, it is legal to buy everything other than vaginal intercourse, and prostitutes and johns are rarely prosecuted for buying or selling sex. This is yet another of Japan's many dichotomies. Japan has the lowest reported sex rate of any developed country in the world (and correspondingly, one of the lowest birth rates in the developed world). Meanwhile, Japan’s so-called Pink Market is a thriving, multibillion-dollar industry.
Contrary to popular belief and books like Memoirs of a Geisha, geishas were not prostitutes or courtesans. They were artists, trained to entertain men.
The reasons for that entertainment are depressing. Historically, men and women were kept separate in Japanese society — men working, and women keeping the home. Women were not afforded education, and could not then engage socially with men. When men wanted social engagement they could only get it through paid companionship.
It’s unsurprising, then, that a thriving “pink market” exists today — a carryover from a society that for centuries kept men and women apart.
Yakuza
I got interested in the yakuza, Japan’s mafia, when I joined a gym for a week in Tokyo, and realized that most gyms throughout the country that aren’t run by “gaijin” (aka foreigners) don’t allow entry if you have tattoos.
Tattoos have long been a countrywide stigma because of their long association with organized crime and the yakuza. While we did see some Japanese in Tokyo sporting tattoos like I might in any major city in the US, it was less common — and understandably so. Though today more commonly covered with a businessman’s attire, yakuza members are traditionally covered in (quite beautiful) full-body tattoos.
The yakuza grew out of two groups from the Edo period (1603-1868): Tekiya or itinerant peddlers, and Bakuto or gamblers who ran dice and card games, during a time when gambling was illegal.
The black markets that occupied Japan after 1945 let gangs grow quickly, and the yakuza peaked between 1945 and 1992. Since 1992, anti-gang laws have reduced the yakuza, or – according to some reports – resulted in them just becoming more embedded in legal and governmental organizations.
Aging Population
One of the most disturbing parts of Japan is its aging population. I'm aware that our population in the United States is aging, but in the false dichotomy debate between the crisis of an aging population and the crisis of climate change, I’ve historically paid more attention to climate change.
That is, though, a false dichotomy, and I witnessed firsthand the challenges that can face a country when there are not enough youth.
Japan’s population peaked at about 128 million people in 2008. Today, that number has fallen to 123 million. By 2050 Japan is projected to have 105 million residents, or a loss of 23 million. And by 2050, about 37% of Japan’s population will be over 65.
In rural Japan, I saw very few Japanese under the age of 25, and it wasn't until we arrived in Hiroshima, Kyoto, and Tokyo that I saw parents with children.
The result of this population decline – which is accelerating faster in Japan than in any other developed country – is that they will have a shrinking workforce, an increasingly expensive elderly population, abandoned homes and communities, and economic stagnation. There are already 9 million vacant homes in Japan!
In the United States we can expect the same challenges, but in Japan they are happening sooner.
Rural Japan
We started our trip on Japan’s south island of Kyushu. We rented a car (which I highly recommend) and drove throughout the Aso region — enjoying rice fields, grasslands, and the mountains that ring the volcanic crater.
It was quiet, peaceful, and — now that I can compare it to Kyoto and Tokyo — poor.
As in the United States, rural Japanese hold a larger proportionate share of the voting power in the country.
Hiroshima
Hiroshima was the first city we visited, and I’m very glad we didn’t skip it. The hope and optimism of the city were palpable from the 24 hours we spent there. While the world knows Hiroshima for the Hiroshima bombing, the city doesn’t define itself by that — though the bombing certainly shapes the city’s identity.
We did a free tour of Hiroshima’s Peace Park and surrounding landmarks, and then visited the Hiroshima Peace Museum the following morning. While obviously horrifying, the monuments to peace and statements about promoting a nuclear-free world that define those monuments were profoundly touching.
I was also amazed that the city did not define itself as a city that had gone through that horrific experience, but rather with optimism for what could be improved in the future, and how humanity could band together to ensure that nothing like the bombing ever happens again.
Equally interesting was the fact that just a few blocks away from these memorials, the city carried on business as usual: a young working population, families in the streets, coffee shops, restaurants, and industry. In addition to being a memorial, the city is a thriving economic center where people live the dichotomies between the horror of the bombing and excitement and optimism for the future.
Kyoto
My main advice for anyone visiting Kyoto is don’t go to tourist destinations. And if you do – go early.
On our first day, we mistakenly went to the Arashiyama bamboo forest, which was about 30 minutes on public transit, and were inundated with people. Later, we found a shrine just outside of town (transit time: 15 minutes) that had as much large bamboo and no tourists.
We were staying near the city center in an area of compact wooden housing and shops. I had fun getting familiar with the daily routine of locals. But always, my most interesting activity in a new city is picking a direction and getting lost in a warren of streets.
Kyoto is a major tourist destination, and this was the first time we saw tourists everywhere.
But it was easy to get away. For example, I attended a Buddhist service at Higashi Hongan-ji at 6:45am one morning, and was the only Westerner. In addition to the service itself, which was unique in my experience, the wooden temple (250 feet wide, 200 feet deep, and 125 feet high — making it one of the world’s largest wooden structures) was filled with 927 tatami mats. It was tranquil and awe-inspiring.
We took several day-long trips from Kyoto including Osaka and Nara, home to the famous bowing deer. (It turns out, the deer bow as a learned behavioral response to tourists' food.)
Kyoto was also the first time we experienced marketplaces that were a harbinger of things to come in Tokyo — loud, crowded, exciting, and overwhelming. I think Tokyo would have been much more difficult had we not first explored some of those marketplaces in Kyoto.
Tokyo
Tokyo is the largest city I've ever visited, which was ominously evident when we first flew into Tokyo before heading to Kyushu on our very first day in Japan. The concrete buildings stretched farther than we could see from the plane.
When we actually arrived in Tokyo, it was much more pleasant than expected. We stayed in Taishidō, a neighborhood near Sangenjaya, about a 15-minute subway ride from Shibuya — the busiest shopping center and intersection in the world.
Our neighborhood was peaceful, with narrow streets, houses, and apartments, and great food a few blocks away. The downside: it took 45 minutes to get to other major districts in the city like Kappabashi (or Kitchen Town, famous for cookware, restaurant supplies, and Japanese knives), Akihabara (electronics, anime, and gaming), Asakusa (historic temple district), and others.
Staying in Taishidō meant that I did a lot of research about that neighborhood, specifically. Among other things, I learned that more than 63% of people in Taishidō live in single-person households — no partner, no kids, and no roommates! Taishidō is a working neighborhood with people commuting to office jobs in other parts of the city. The restaurants were abundant and incredible, as were the boutique shops that lined several nearby streets. I was able to go into grocery stores and buy breakfast or walk down the street to 7-Eleven to get a good latte for my wife every morning. It felt like walking around Greenpoint in Brooklyn, NYC.
Akihabara
Each day in Tokyo we took two or three trips by subway to different neighborhoods or regions of the city – and it was amazing how different each felt from another. Of all of them, the “Electric Town” of Akihabara was the most intense.
Everyone should spend a couple of hours — at some point in their lives — visiting this insane neighborhood. This was the second free tour we took, and I’m glad we did or I’d have missed several of the elements of the area that make it unique.
Akihabara began after World War II in black markets, where merchants sold radio components, equipment, and electric parts. We toured “junk street,” which for decades was where Japanese people dumped their junk — furniture, electronics, and more. Predictably, a thriving economy grew up of people who repaired and sold that junk, according to the Japanese philosophy of “mottainai” — the idea that wasting something with remaining value is regrettable.
We walked through floors of a ten-story building of restored arcade games from the 1990s — each with someone avidly playing the arcade games of my childhood. There were other towering buildings full of anime characters, manga, and more.
We didn’t realize before the tour, for example, that the girls holding signs on the street (who, after they had been pointed out to us, we saw constantly) were advertising Maid Cafés, a wild take on cafés and service that first started in the 1990s.
My biggest takeaway from Akihabara was a philosophy that if someone, somewhere wants a specific piece of electronics — however many decades old, unique, rare, or unusual — they believe someone should sell it. If someone wants to play a game, it should be available. And if someone has a specific fetish, that, too, should be accommodated.
Akihabara, and Tokyo more generally, highlighted for me the complexities and dichotomies of Japan. Tokyo is a beautiful city — the cleanest and most polite big city I’ve visited anywhere in the world — with a steeply declining birth rate. The country experienced an incredible renaissance after World War II, and yet struggles with some of the historical conservatism and repression that have been part of the country for centuries.
Public Transit
Prior to our trip, I was a little bit nervous about how much public transit we would have to navigate, including train lines to Hiroshima, Kyoto, and Tokyo, trolley cars in Hiroshima, and subway systems in Kyoto and Tokyo.
My nervousness was unfounded. I’ve never had an easier time navigating public transit, including in countries where I speak the language.
Every train and subway we used was extremely well labeled and on time. Both electronic signs and Google Maps told me exactly what to expect, including which train cars would be best positioned to help me with my next transfer.
Given the travesty that is public transportation in California, and even more so in my local region of Marin County, I was wildly impressed.
Public transportation in Japan changed my perception of what’s possible.
Japan After World War II
In the United States, for better or worse, World War II is not something that we think about or that shapes our lives constantly. In Japan, the reminders of World War II are everywhere.
There are plaques on temples and shrines that detail how they survived the war, or when they were rebuilt afterwards. Similarly, many Tokyo neighborhoods are defined by whether they existed before or were rebuilt after the war. World War II is a clear before-and-after marker throughout the country.
I detected no hostility, regret, or hiding from the role Japan played in World War II. It wasn’t a trauma that the country was grappling with so much as a marker of a point in time that has shaped much of how Japan has evolved in the eight decades since.
The World Is Smaller
Leaving Japan, one of my realizations is how much smaller the world is than when I traveled in my childhood.
We used Google Translate constantly, but everyone I met in Japan was more familiar (and less apologetic) about speaking into Google Translate and then giving me the English translation than I was.
Google Maps was instrumental in navigating trains, which prior to the trip was something I was quite nervous about doing, but on the ground was seamless.
As a child, I got lost in markets throughout Mexico – and it would often take me an hour or a day to find my way home again. In Japan, I couldn’t have gotten deliberately lost had I tried.
International travel used to be much less certain, and — at the risk of sounding much older than I am — I’m a bit sad at how comfortable travel has become.
–
During our last week in Tokyo, I found myself reaching for my phone to call friends as I walked to get my wife coffee each morning. It was only after I started my first call that I realized I would be the only person speaking on their phone – in any language – on the street. As I walked down the street, there were people looking at their phones or listening to things on headphones as they rode their bikes, but nobody was speaking aloud above a whisper.
A week out from our trip, that’s an image I carry with me: amidst the most crowded streets I’ve ever walked, the peace and history of its people were still present.
Further reading
Some books I’ve enjoyed:
Until next week,
Robin
