Tokyo: What We Learned in the World’s Largest and Safest City
Photos through Unsplash
“Get Out There” is a column for itchy footed humans written by Paste contributor Blake Snow. Although different now, travel is still worthwhile–especially to these destinations. Today we travel to Tokyo.
Tokyo has no business being this tidy, orderly, and convenient. After visiting for 10 days, I saw exactly one pigeon (aka “flying rats”), zero cops, and only a smattering of litter. Seriously. It doesn’t make any sense.
But if anyone can accomplish that remarkable feat in a metropolis of 37 million—that’s three times the size of New York City—it’s the Japanese. Which is partly why Tokyo is so beloved. The other part is that to Western tourists, it doesn’t get any more exotic than this—making this the ideal place to lose your perception, bearings, and native tongue without ever putting yourself in harm’s way.
This spring, my family was part of the first wave of tourists to visit after three long years of closed borders. We came for the cherry blossoms but stayed for the food, colorful aesthetics, and sea of Japanese people. As one diplomat told me, “Welcome to Asian utopia.”
Everything in its proper place
As America becomes increasingly informal (and that’s okay), it’s refreshing to be in a country that’s incredibly proper, clean, and uniform, without the stuffiness or judgment of other formal societies. City workers, for example, wear vests, white gloves, hard hats, utility belts, suspenders. The subways are filled with ties, dresses, and dark business suits. Nothing was out of place.
Except on the third night when I heard a distant baby crying for a few brief moments. Which, in a place this crowded, is shocking that it took so long. Besides that, I didn’t see or hear anything out of place for the rest of the trip, which makes for a remarkably reverent, peaceful, and quiet society. Which, in turn, explains the very loud, colorful, and crazy “escapist” media that greater Japan is known for, in spite of all its buttoned-up formality.
Lost in isolation
Psychologically at times, Tokyo can feel like The Great Wave off Kanagawa, the most iconic piece of Japanese art, which depicts a tidal wave crashing down upon wary boaters. I felt similar weight on several occasions. The inability to book trains and return buses in advance, easily transfer between subways, pay with credit cards (only sometimes), negotiate workarounds, or navigate several floors of food courts just to find a desired restaurant, can be mentally draining. So much so that we spent two extra day trips outside of the city just to decompress.
I’m not being melodramatic. Tokyo’s cultural disorientation and displacement is, of course, a major draw. But it can also be a negative, especially while you witness the public lack of interaction that is sometimes extended to visitors. In other words, a relaxing beach this is not. Tokyo wears on you, albeit in a good way.