The Other Side of the Ramen Bowl
Walking through the narrow alleyways of Osaka’s Tobita Shinchi, lined on either side with neatly-manicured potted bonsai trees, as school children chatter to each other on their way back home and elderly men quietly cycle by, it’s easy to forget that you’re in the backyard of one of the most powerful crime syndicates in the world, the Japanese Yakuza.
Although the perfectly-paved streets, hanging lanterns and low-lying wooden buildings, give an air of tranquility and almost nostalgic romanticism, the truth is far more sordid. Tobita Shinchi is Osaka’s red light district, and lined as it is with bonsai trees, it is equally with rows of girls sat inside street-level openings. It’s set away from the central districts, with their skyscrapers and shining neon lights, in the poorer outskirts of the inner city.
As Japanese salarymen and the more adventurous of the ‘Gaijin’ (foreigners) walk by, peering from side-to-side as spectators of a tennis match might do, they receive a shy but seductive wave from the girls and an encouraging gesture from the ‘mama-san’. The girls, prostitutes of course, look like they’ve stepped out of an anime set. They’re young, beautiful, with cartoon-like eyes, and dressed in a variety of costumes, from French maids to policewomen. It gives a theme-park feel, in a uniquely Japanese way. The mama-san is an elderly, chain-smoking woman, often owner of the establishment, whose role it is to solicit passers-by. A grandmother version of a Western pimp.
Prostitution was outlawed in Japan in the 1950s, and to skirt this regulation, each of the outlets is technically licensed as a restaurant. Whatever other indulgences offered are purely incidental. The territory consists of 159 ‘restaurants’, run collectively, at least on the face of it, by the Tobita Restaurant Association.
Japan is a country renowned the world over for its attention to detail, its pursuit of perfection (a philosophy referred to as ‘kodawari’), and its seamless functionality. Its underworld is not too dissimilar, it would appear. Strangely, the two worlds — the legitimate and the illegitimate — seem to work together, at least on the surface, in a comfortable symbiosis. Whilst places like Sicily and parts of Italy’s southern region, are crippled under the suffocating tentacles of the Mafia and the Camorra, Japan continues to over-perform, despite the powerful presence of its version of organised mobsters. Measured by revenue, the Yakuza comes in only second to the Russian mob, with just one of its most powerful member groups, known as Yamaguchi Gumi, generating an estimated $6.6bn in annual revenue. The Camorra falls short by about $700m.
In June of this year, Japan is set to host the G20 Summit, an annual forum held amongst twenty of the world’s most powerful leaders. For the first time since the death of Japan’s Emperor, some thirty years ago, the Tobita Restaurant Association has announced that it will shut down all 159 licensed restaurants during the Summit. By contrast, in 2008, the Camorra, widely known to control the waste management industry, allowed Naples to drown in garbage in a move which almost brought the city to a standstill.
The contrast between the two syndicates, and their relationships with the system, is stark. It’s perhaps the reason why the alleyways of Tobita Shinchi allow children, prostitutes, gangsters, salarymen and foreigners to interact without apparent friction. The sense of balance amongst the various parts is almost tangible, like a natural ecosystem. Members of the Yakuza navigate the alleyways driving black Mercedes’, or slightly less conspicuous Toyotas, making sure that no trouble is brewing. Plain-clothed policemen ride on bicycles, in groups of three.
The girls sit perched on cushioned seats, a step above the mama-san. Each ‘showroom’ is decorated uniquely, with ornaments, some more elaborate than others. Hello Kitty, as with most places in Japan, retains a prominent presence. A tall mirror is placed in the corner of the opening, allowing the mama-san to see who’s walking towards them. As a prospect walks by one of the openings, you might hear the croaky voice of the mama-san inviting him in. “Come, see. She beautiful”, she says, in an accent which is barely understandable, pointing towards her girl.
Other than that there is, however, a notable absence of noises in Tobita Shinchi. You might expect hustle, bustle, street vendors, drug dealers and drunkards in a place like this. Not in Tobita Shinchi.
It isn’t just this absence of noises, or the impeccable cleanliness of the alleyways, which sets it apart from other places associated with the sex trade. The girls in Tobita Shinchi are not old or tired-looking, sapped of soul, as they often are. Instead, they are like exhibits of perfection. Their porcelain skin, innocent-looking eyes, shy demeanor, youthfulness and exquisite beauty, tell a story very different to their reality.
But on the rare occasion that a distracted mama-san doesn’t pick up on an approaching prospect, you might catch a glimpse of sadness in the girl’s eyes and be reminded of this reality. It lasts just a fleeting moment until she quickly snaps back into character. Long enough, though, to realise that despite the outwardly facade, beneath the surface lies the same darkness.
