Japan Recap Part 1: Osaka

It could be that I've been so terribly pleased with Osaka because of confirmation bias.  When we first moved here, I easily cobbled together a caricature of this city (nickname suggestion #1: The Big Pancake) from the few stereotypes and rumors I'd heard on the Internet and from otakus back home: it's loud, it's crass, it's dirty, it's tacky, the people are rude and overly concerned with money, it's where gangsters and comedians come from.  Basically, despite its second city status, in my mind I'd always built it up not as Chicago but as Jersey.

To recap: when we first moved to Japan, we were placed in an apartment right by Jenn's school, out in Tondabayashi City -- basically the Chesterfield, MO of Japan (or, in keeping with my earlier analogies, if Osaka is Chicago, Tondabayashi is Aurora or possibly Deerfield).  It seems like a fine place for people with children, dogs, and/or cars, but it was a bit sleepy for our tastes, so as soon as I found a job, we moved into the city proper.  Our apartment here is in Namba, certainly the happening-est part of one of the two most happening wards in Osaka, which means we got to be right in the heart of the big city (nickname suggestion #2: The Big 'Saka).  Despite having an hour-long commute each morning and evening, we haven't regretted moving to Namba at all.  We're a ten-minute walk from any of Osaka's best bars, restaurants, karaoke boxes, and gaijin hangouts...we want for nothing.  Truly, it is, as the Japanese say, la dolce vita.  Plus, the commute has given Jenn a chance to hone her sleeping-on-train skills to an almost Japanese level of expertise.

I guess, all said, I haven't learned much about the character of Osaka beyond those initial stereotypes, largely because I haven't lived anywhere else in Japan.  By Japanese standards, I guess it's dirty, but it's still Japan; people here sweep up the street in front of their businesses and wash the trash cans every day, tasks that no amount of money would persuade an American to do.  I suppose Osaka is dirtier than Kyoto, but then, Kyoto is so clean I'd be comfortable getting open heart surgery in the Kyoto subway.

Though there is the occasional fish head by the American consulate.  Ominous!

Some people are loud and crass, sure, but...yeah, again, Japan.  This is the country, if you'll remember, where you can get in trouble for demonstrating an insufficiently apologetic bow.  Crass for Japan is still more polite than any given...hm.  Well, I was going to give an example of something notoriously polite or helpful in America, but I find myself at a loss for examples.  More polite than a Minnesota wedding?

For instance, this man in Den-Den Town was nice enough to pause for a photo.  He said something about having plenty of...time.

Side note: I'd hoped that by studying Japanese here in Osaka, I'd learn to speak Osaka-ben, the brash, slangly Osaka dialect favored by Yakuza.  Thus, whenever I encountered a Japanese person outside Osaka, I would impress and intimidate them with my tough-guy way of speaking.   Unfortunately, having worked in a kindergarten for more than two years, I've been told that I speak more like a three-year old than a gangster.  *Sigh*

The toughest gang in town.

On the few occasions when we've gone to Tokyo, we were able to see what weirdness is native only to Osaka, and not to Japan as a whole.  Tokyo felt pretty boring, actually; everyone was wearing conservative clothes in conservatives colors (and let me just say as a word of warning to friends and family in America, I've gotten very used to dressing ridiculously).  Ultimately, I would say, Tokyo is much, much more ghettoized than Osaka, which makes the city feel...well, boring.  Everyone dresses the same because the freaks with the punk haircuts and the Lolitas with their boyfriends don't ride the same trains as the sarariimen going to work -- they stay in their ghettos in Akihabara or Harajuku with their own kind.  There's no Tokyo pride, no Tokyo Strut, as far as I can tell, because there's pride or a sense of identity within the smaller communities that sprinkle the megalopolis.

I gather that this is what makes Osaka so special within Japan, this sense of regional pride: rich or poor, old or young, all of Osaka comes together to take pride in their fried foods, their garish lit-up streets, and their terrifyingly powerful old women (Osakaobachan are described in guidebooks as "vigorous," "robust," and many other euphemisms for "loud, obnoxious to the point of violence, and generally badass").  After only three years here, I have more pride than I've had in anywhere else I've lived, though that may be due to St. Louis and Kirksville not putting up the stiffest competition.  I'm gonna miss this place, for sure.

To close, I'd like to share a couple of videos that capture the spirit of Osaka.  First, the outsider's perspective on our fascinating city, summed up beautifully by one of the best travelers out there (do watch part 2, as well, if you have time):

Osaka viewed from the vantage point of a boozy, coarse, sweaty old man.  Pretty much spot on!

...And then, the ultimate Osaka-poi video, full of plenty of Osaka dialect, food, and of course, the ridiculous clothes and hair that Osaka is famous for.  Most of this is set about 5 minutes from our house!  Sadly, the version with English subtitles has been taken down by some evil bastard, but trust me when I say that this song is as awesomely, authentically Osakan as it is impossible to sing at karaoke.  Ladies and gentlemen...zis izu Osaka Sutoratto!

I want that coat!