The Liverpool of Japan

I'm nearly eight months into a year abroad in Japan. Eight months in a country like this is not an experience that comes without stories to tell and a new perspective on things. If nothing else, it makes for entertaining banter with people who havent had the opportunity to see it for themselves. In a country like Japan, you dont need to trek off into the wilderness with a backpack and a guidebook to see things that force a double take. I challenge anyone to come out here even for a day (although that would be impractical) and not come home with something unique, and more often that not hilarious, to recount. Japan, from the outside, is not an unknown quantity. Everyone has heard about the crazy vending machines, people always ask about the bullet trains and the conveyorbelt sushi. But to be fair, thats not what I see everyday when I go to buy bread or walk to a lecture.

I was in a park last weekend. What a crazy life I lead. The sun was out and peole were walking their dogs, kids were practicing baseball. To all intents and purposes a fairly standard spring sunday scene. It could have been London, except everyone was Japanese. And that is exactly why, upon closer inspection it was in fact not a standard spring sunday scene at all. From just beyond a beautifully manicured rose garden, drowning out the sound of the bees and the chatter of the old ladies follwing them around with outsized camera lenses, came a wall of techno music. At first I thought, and I wouldnt put it past the Japanese, that this was music piped into to the rose garden itself in a totally misguided attempt at atmospheric background soundtracking. And they bloody love that. No, it wasnt that normal. The volume increased as we homed in on the source of the sound until finally confronted with a not unsubstantial stage and about thirty revellers enjoying a casual rave whilst joggers trudged past...totally unphased. The DJ, clearly at the pinnacle of his career, looked the part. Kooky trilby, wife beater vest and loose summery shirt billowing around next to outsize headphones. Behind him a euphoric dance hero waved a neon dayglo banner that he could have nicked from a full moon party (but I know he made it at home, sober as a judge with a cup of green tea). You have to look closer. The DJ never, at any point used the head phones, they are just part of the perfectly executed replication of what a DJ 'must' look like. Naturally, we joined in with the awkardly restrained mirth... asides from the occasional can of lager, no one was drinking and there were certainly no drugs... yet taken on face value this could have been mistaken for a fully fledged Class A fuelled bonanza.

The rave in the park serves as one of many thousands of bizarities I have come accross to illustrate my theory on Japan. As a nation, they have an unrivalled gift for mimickry. Cars, televisions, stereos. Nobody can argue that the Japanese dont make them to perfection. But they dont excite. Jeremy Clarkson bangs on about how the italians put such passion into their hugely unreliable Alfa Romeos or fiats, there's never any string of tedious adjectives from him about Toyotas. The Japanese dont really invent anything for themselves, they just take an idea and streamline it into uncharismatic faultlessness. The humour and interest...and to give them their due, their charm comes from the enthusiasm and dedication Japanese people have for certain things, whilst by and large missing the original point. In case my rambling is lost on you, don't worry. I have plenty of examples.

Take sports fans. I heard that one of the Tokyo football clubs a few years ago offered free tickets to english expats in a bid to recreate a more authentic rowdy hooligan vibe. I dont know the result of this desperate bid for authenticity, but whatever happened it sounds misguided to me. When I went to watch my local 'Yokohama FC Marinos' (often touted as the 'Liverpool' of Japanese football...) the stands were alive with flags, whistles, chanting (and a full brass band). They were going MENTAL. But, as with the rave in the park you must look closer. This crowd of supporters were so well practiced and disciplined... so focused on 'being proper football fans', that there was no erruption of cheering for any of the four goals because their dedication to prepracticed chants could not be swayed by something as unplanned as a goal. When the game finished, nobody shouted 'the referee's a wanker' and there was not a policeman in sight. People filed out in single file to the sound of absolute silence around the stadium. I cannot explain the sheer weirdness of it. They had perfected the 'image' of die hard fans. In the photo at the top you could be excused for thinking this was something as important and passion driven as a chamions league final... except it felt like somehow they had totally missed the point of the whole excercise. You're average Millwall fan doesnt have a full songsheet for every player.. and he certainly wont be continuing to sing when he's full of lager and his team have just gone one up.

It might be unfair to say it, but I think its undeniably true that Japan will never understand the concept of spontaneity. Someone must have already done it... Then they can take notes, plan in advance... and then hilariously miss the point.