Friday, May 15, 2009

Final Impressions: Rural vs. Urban Life in Japan

My first real impressions of Japan were formed when I came here for six weeks in the summer of 2005. I did a homestay in the very rural town of Tatsuno in Nagano prefecture. My six weeks there allowed me to gain a very interesting perspective on what Japanese life is like in the countryside, which essentially translated into a more traditional perspective.

This time around, I arrived in September of last year, and have been in living in Hirakata city of Osaka prefecture for the last eight and a half months: four months doing a homestay and four months in one of the international seminar houses. Although Hirakata isn`t exactly the most urban of all cities, it is still relatively large, with around 400,000 people, and is located relatively close to the major cities of Osaka, Kyoto, and Kobe, which I frequently visited. During these last eight and a half months, I have gained a much different perspective than the one I did in 2005, as it has been from a much more urban perspective, and by extension, more modern outlook.


So, overall my changing impressions of Japan during this school year have resulted from comparing and contrasting the various differences which exist between rural and urban Japanese life.

One of the first major differences I noticed was the difference between extended families in the countryside and nuclear families in the city. When I did my homestay in Tatsuno, I lived with family which consisted of three generations all living under one roof. The dad worked full time as a salaryman, the mom worked part time as a cook at the local elementary school and was also a full time housewife, and the grandmother would help with all of the household chores like cleaning, ironing, etc. Apart from the grandfather, who wasn't in good enough health to really contribute, the house functioned in a perfect harmonious unit - everyone pitched in and performed their prescribed role down to the dot. It also wasn't uncommon for other extended family members - aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, etc. - to drop by the house and say hi and hang out for a little while. The sense of familial collectivism was extremely strong, which fit into my preexisting schema I had of what a typical Japanese family was like.

This schema I had regarding what Japanese families are typically like went completely out the window last semester when I did a homestay here in Hirakata. My host family consisted of a divorced mom who works full time as a nurse, 8 and 10 year old boys, and a boyfriend who lives and works in Fukuoka (meaning he only visited once every couple months...). Despite the fact that my host mom's parents and sister live in Hirakata, a mere 5 minute drive away, I only met with them twice - once to just drop off the kids there to be babysat, and once when my host mom's friend was here visiting from Australia (this time we actually went inside for about 15 minutes and chatted a bit). I was quite surprised that there was such a minimal amount of interaction between the two generations in the family. And I don't think this was an exception to the rule - after talking with friends who also did homestays, the majority of whom said that the grandparents lived somewhere else. This changed my impression of Japan being a country in which the extended family and familial collectivism prevails, and seemed to attest to the fact that in the more urban parts of Japan the idea of the nuclear family, which is much more of a western concept, seems to have firmly taken root.

When I lived in Tatsuno, there seemed to be an extremely strong sense of community in general. People knew who their neighbors were, and would frequently chat with them. People seemed to look out for one another in general, which I found to be escpecially exhibited within the context of school. If someone was having trouble with something in the classroom, everyone was there to help them out and try and bring them to the same level as everyone else in the class. Overall, group mentality seemed to manifest itself everywhere, weather it was within the context of family, school, or community.

During my time here in Osaka, I have found the opposite ideal of individualism to be widespread, as exhibited through the characteristics of general anonymity, apathy, and indifference. I can only recall one time in which my host mom actually talked to one of the two neighbors, which took place when they both happened to be hanging up laundry on the balcony at the same time. The conversation seemed to be much more forced out of a desire to escape awkwardness than a genuine desire to be a part of the life of the person who lives in the same community as them so to speak. I have also seen the apathy and indifference exhibited in train stations late at night, where there will be someone who looks like they are either piss-drunk or really badly injured lying on the floor looking desperate for help, sometimes sitting in a puddle of their own vomit, but everyone simply averts their eyes and chooses to ignore them (which is apparently not uncommon, for a video clip showing a situation like this from Professor Fedorowicz, click here).


So, all in all my impressions of Japan did change a significant amount over the course of this last year. I came to realize that there is a considerable divergence between the way people in the countryside live and the way the people in larger cities live, and that my impressions of Japan which were formed in 2005 really only presented half of the picture of what the "real" Japan is actually like. I realized that generally collectivism and group mentality is much stronger in the countryside, and that it often takes the back seat in more urban areas, which I think results from the overall anonymity which is created in urban atmospheres. This does not go to say that one is overall better than the other, rather it is simply something I have observed which has changed my overall impressions of Japan.





Tuesday, May 12, 2009

The Politics of Pachinko

In the documentary Japanland we watched in class this week, there was a section about Japan's famous pachinko industry which stimulated my interest and made me want to learn more about it. In Japan, an interesting system is employed in order for pachinko to legally not be classified as gambling, despite the fact that by any measurable definition it really is (for an explanation, click here and scroll down to the 17th paragraph, which starts with "over the course of the day"). Like prostitution in Japan, it is one of those vice industries that on paper is illegal (although in very unclear and ambiguous terms) but is simultaneously not enforced whatsoever.

This got me thinking about pachinko. Anywhere you go in Japan, it seems like there are pachinko parlors everywhere - with their elaborate advertisements, strangely-worded English slogans, and flashy exteriors: they really do stick out like a sore thumb. Despite this, I have never really given much thought to pachinko in general. I remember when I went to Tokyo 4 years ago, going into a pachinko parlor, and thinking wow this is a really stupid game, why would anyone waste their time and money on this? It seemed like a game that one night some Japanese guy got drunk, decided he wanted to combine pinball and slot machines, and this was the unfortunate result. There is seemingly no skilled involved, it doesn't seem entertaining in the slightest, and on top of it the atmosphere of the pachinko parlor - blaring music, the racket of the little metal balls in every machine, and the incessant cigarette smoke which hangs in the air - is enough to give anyone a headache within 5 minutes. And yet, pachinko is a HUGE multi-billion dollar industry in Japan with approximately 30 millions players. That's nearly a quarter of Japan's entire population!!! What's the big deal?

To further investigate this, I decided to interview one of my Gaidai friends who is a pachinko regular, and to go to the pachinko parlor closest to the seminar houses - Himawari - in order to get a first-hand look for myself.

I asked my Gaidai friend, who asked to not be named, a variety of questions. First I asked why does he do it? What is it about it that draws him? His answers were pretty inline with the explanation given in the Japanland video: he does it because it is a stress reliever: it helps him to escape the real world around him and forgot about daily life's worries and troubles. Another reason he mentioned which I don't think the video touched upon is the thrill he experiences when he plays pachinko because of the fact that there is money at stake, something that can't be experienced from other recreational activies like playing video games or watching TV on the same level - "everyone likes to dream" he said (in reference to winning a lot of money from playing pachinko).

I asked him how often he plays pachinko, to which he responded it depends on whether or not he has money, but that recently it has been less and less because he doesn't work as much as he used to. He said now it is about 2-3 times a month, but that during his sophomore and junior years of college (he is now a senior) it was practically everyday. Something he didn't mention during the interview is the fact that he at one point borrowed around $800 from his friend to keep feeding his addiction (whom I know, which is why I know this), which I think clearly demonstrates that no matter what the form of gambling is - whether it's high wager bets or low wager bets (by the way pachinko is a very low wager form of gambling) - it can be extremely psychologically addicting, which can have innumerable negative consequences.

Next, I asked him about the legal aspects of pachinko. How is it that gambling is illegal in Japan, and yet exceptions are made for things like pachinko and law enforcement turns a blind eye? Why is it that as long as the money exchange center is outside of the actual pachinko building, it is legally considered to not be a gambling enterprise? He said that he has absolutely no idea - it is a complete mystery to him - and that he thinks that it's pointless that they have the exchange center be separate from the main building itself. I then asked if he thinks if it should be illegal or not considering that it is a form of gambling, and that gambling is illegal in Japan, to which he said definitely not. Lastly, I asked him if he thinks he'll continue to play pachinko as he gets older, to which he answered yes. I think this is pretty interesting, considering the fact that I don't think he has paid back his friend the $800 he owes him, who happened to actually be sitting there next to him during the entire duration of the interview...


The inside of Himawari, probably one of the most annoying places I have ever been in my life

The small exchange center outside of the main building. At first glance it looks like it is simply attached to the main building, but then I walked to the back where there was literally about an inch or two of space separating it from the main building. Talk about arbitrary laws...

Notice the flashy marble exterior. It's obvious that buildings like this have a lot of money put into them judging by their appearance, but then again the pachinko industry can afford to do things like this, as it makes an estimated $40 billion a year

Links:
- An extremely detailed and informative report on the pachinko industry in Japan, where most of the statistics I used in this post came from:
http://www.japansociety.org/pachinko_nation

- "Pachinko, Japan's National Pastime"
http://www.mangajin.com/mangajin/samplemj/pachinko/pachinko.htm



Disclaimer

This blog is a class project for my "Visual Anthropology" class; as such it is for educational purposes only. All photos posted here are taken by the blog author unless otherwise noted. If any problem with the posting of a particular photo is brought to my attention, I will earnestly review the problem and remove the photo if necessary.