Osaka Castle > Taikosushi > Deep Backstreet Tour of Shinsekai > Kushikatsu
Our first full day of exploration of Osaka was long and wildly interesting. We slept in to recover from the previous day’s travel before heading to Osaka Castle. It was honestly kind of a pain to get to: two subway trains plus a 1.5 km (~1 mi) walk from the station through the massive castle grounds before getting to the actual entrance of the castle. (There were tuktuk tours that dropped groups off at the Sakuramon gate, which shortened the walk considerably but still left about half a kilometer of hoofing.)
We’d had our morning coffee at the UCC / Precious Coffee place right by the hotel and I’d opted to skip food because I still felt full. (After all, we ate almost nonstop while we were in the Philippines). On the edge of the castle grounds, there is a Lawson konbini which presented the perfect opportunity to try some of Japan’s legendary convenience store food. I got myself two onigiri (rice triangles), fish roe and beef, and they were both delicious.
Osaka Castle is a historical landmark that has a fairly distinct look with its white walls and green rooflines. The site was home to a temple 1496 to 1580 until it was burned to the ground in Nobunaga Oda’s unification campaign. His successor Hideyoshi Hashiba aka Toyotomi built a castle in 1583. The castle fell during the Summer War of 1615 during the power struggle after Toyotomi’s death, rebuilt in 1620, and then the Main Tower was destroyed by a lightning strike in 1655. Most of the buildings were destroyed by fire over the centuries until the Main Tower was rebuilt in 1931. The rest of the grounds were damaged by bombs during WW2 but have since been restored, with a massive park surrounding the castle that’s also home to a concert hall and the Osaka International Peace Center.
Inside the main tower is Osaka Castle Museum with an observation deck on the 8th floor where one can appreciate the city skyline. How the museum is set up is another testament to Japanese practicality: we were ushered to the elevators upon entry and sent upstairs, where we could visit the observation deck and then follow clearly marked paths through the museum’s exhibits all the way down. There’s a lot of history about the shogun’s life, significant battles, and artifacts to admire.
I was delighted to find a little table where I got an Osaka Castle stamp for my notebook and also on the back of our info pamphlet. I’d forgotten that there are all these stations around the country where, if you planned ahead and brought a notebook, you could get a souvenir stamp from hundreds of places around Japan.
Jordan, however, was even more delighted when he found out that one could dress up as a samurai warlord and take a picture in front of a green screen. He had to cajole me into putting on a kimono and obi. As I was recounting to a friend later, “I’m Asian. I don’t need to/get excited about dressing up as another kind of Asian!” (In fact, I don’t even have to pretend to be Japanese. Someone asked me for directions at a subway station earlier.) I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes when they took the picture, but I have to admit, it turned out alright.
It started to rain just as we were leaving, so we ducked into the building next to the castle that housed an action figure museum and a few restaurants/cafe. We did not have time to visit the museum but sent a picture to our brother Joel, who would likely get a kick out of it since he is an professional animator and collects action figures.
In the long walk to the JR station, we decided to forego the visit to a museum on Chinese medicine that I had on my radar. Instead, we began making our way to Shinsekai for our evening walking tour. The local sushi place recommended by Inside Osaka is closer to the meeting point, and it’s a good thing we tried to be early because we gaffed twice on the subway ride. First, by taking the loop train in the wrong direction (still cannot tell you which train is “clockwise” or “counterclockwise” to save my life) and then, we ended up getting off one stop too early because it turns out Imamiya station is most definitely NOT Shin-Imamiya station.
We eventually made it to Taikosushi. It’s a small, older sushi joint with a horseshoe counter and the sushi chefs working in the middle, giving off strong Midnight Diner vibes. It didn’t look like there were any foreigners in the place. We nervously eyed the picture menu outside and noticed the lack of English, but the prices were very reasonable: 3 pieces of sashimi for 150 yen (USD$1) and up. It was too tempting to pass up. We took a picture of the menu outside and planned to just wing it by pointing to pictures.
Turns out they have a perfectly good system in place for English speakers. A laminated picture menu was put in front of us with each item numbered. Through sign language, we understood that we were to write down the numbers of what we wanted to order. So simple!
It was so much fun to see the sushi chefs work! If we were fluent in the language, I’m sure we could have chatted them up. The lone female in the pit fired up the soup I ordered on a three-burner gas stove right in front of us. Another chef charred a piece of unagi on a beat up little grill sitting on top of the open flames of the middle burner. We were asked if we wanted wasabi and of course we said yes. When the sashimi arrived, there was a dab of wasabi under the fish. There were pots of soy sauce equipped with brushes in front of us (one sweet, one regular). No little soy sauce bowls or pieces of wasabi were distributed. So this is how the Japanese eat sushi!
We thoroughly enjoyed the experience and of course, the sushi was delicious and inexpensive. I recall the abalone, fatty tuna, and unagi being around 500 yen and served in pairs but otherwise, everything else came in threes and cost around 150-200 yen. Our total bill came to a whopping 2700 yen or just under 18 US dollars, plus 500 yen ($3+) or so for our drinks. We resisted the urge to order more to save room for possible dessert.
The shotengai (covered shopping street) felt like it is still a place frequented by locals. There is a gameroom full of people (all men) comprised of two rows of little tables: one for go and the other for a local board game that I didn’t recognize. Turns out this is the last surviving shogi (Japanese chess) parlor in this alley. “As recently as 10 years ago, the alley was home to nearly a dozen such parlors…” but they have been converted mostly into restaurants now.
There’s also this very random claw machine. Words fail so here’s a picture (on the right). I don’t think we will ever look at an oyster mushroom the same way ever again… 🤣 When I used Google translate to see what the words in the back say, they’re basically disclaimers stating that “if you hurt yourself, we bear no responsibility”, etc. No clue why Arnold Schwartzenegger is featured either. Your guess is as good as mine.
Yes, children can walk by this claw machine and probably do so all the time. In fact, in the arcade of claw machines on the Dotombori (and only three units down from one featuring a Snoopy blanket that I was very tempted to try), there was a “double feature” claw machine that had creepy little baby dolls with their asses half hanging out of their diapers and (I kid you not) boobs. Literally, flesh-colored stress balls that had a nipple on it. 🤷🏻♀️ These “surprises” that would make puritanical Americans faint on the street are a normal part of Japanese culture. It’s not a big deal. Maybe that’s a better way to react than the shocked and (often sanctimonious) clutching of pearls that people are used to in America.
Deep backstreets walking tour of Shinsekai
I’d booked a walking tour called “Deep Backstreets tour of Osaka” featuring the Shinsekai neighborhood, considered one of the sketchier places in the city and most “dangerous” places in Japan. We arrived a bit early in front of the Family Mart at Exit 1 of Daikokucho Station on the Midosuji line (thank God for very clear directions). We were warned that we would never be able to catch up if we don’t arrive on time. Our tour guide Kevin was already there and encouraged us to use the facilities in the convenience store before we started our 3+ hour walk. We’d already discovered the clean, well-provisioned bathroom in the subway station below — a feature that is practically nonexistent within the MBTA of Boston.
Our group had about 10 people and we began making our way to Shinsekai. We stopped in a Shinto shrine, deserted but still open at night, where Kevin explained how the Japanese worshipped. They asked the deities for favors (mostly related to business and prosperity) by buying various sizes of amulets. There was a bin that looked like a covered well for “expired” items. Amulets apparently need to be replaced every year, but since they are religious items, they are brought back to the shrine to be burned instead of thrown in the trash.
A few blocks down, we spotted one of Osaka’s famous landmarks: the Tsutenkaku. The Eiffel Tower–inspired structure was first built in 1912 as part the second amusement park in Japan and was once the tallest structure in Asia. It was damaged by fire and subsequently torn down during WW2 (for the steel), but local citizens fought to have it rebuilt in 1956. The 100-meter tower is a good landmark to orient yourself, especially at night when its bright neon lights are on.
Our group passed by the Retro Arcade Zarigani, which was filled with the arcade games of my childhood like PacMan, Street Fighter, and OutRun. Kevin pointed out that in this “dangerous” part of Osaka, there was no attendant present and the coin machines were not nailed down. Anywhere else (including his hometown of Vancouver) and this metal box full of money would have been carted away a long time ago.
We walked by Tower Knives (which we would visit when they were open the next day) and the very unique Shinsekai Kokusai theater, known for its two screens — one showing regular movies and the basement theater screening “adult” entertainment. What made the theater even more memorable is the fact that its signs / movie posters and screening times are painted. (Kevin says he checked: they do update the information and graphics every few weeks when the movies change.)
It felt like we turned a corner and we were suddenly swallowed up by street after street of restaurants. Shinsekai’s nightlife is vintage Osaka — bright lights, animatronics on the side of the buildings, more shiny establishments offering food and drink than we could ever hope to keep track of. Kevin led us to a vending machine for beer and encourage some of the people to partake, since buying nor drinking alcohol on the street is not legal in countries like the US. He showed us a couple of restaurants that had huge ponds where one can go fish with a rod (or pretend to) and have your catch cooked for dinner.
There’s a giant Billiken at one corner of the block of restaurants. I had been wondering what the smiling, almost creepy-looking statue with the big feet and pointy ears was about. The icon was inspired by the St. Louis University mascot billiken and is now a Shinto God of “Things as They Ought to Be”. Osakans rub the Billiken’s feet for good luck, which explains why most of the statues have faded paint around the feet.
Our group sat down for a quick snack of takoyaki (the one we tried in the Dotombori was better) at a modest corner eatery. Afterwards, I was surprised to find ourselves back in the shotengai where we’d had lunch at Taiko Sushi. Turns out this place is called JanJan Yokocho Alley (named after “the sound of a strumming banjo that waitresses used to attract customers”) and is known for its retro vibe and cheap eateries.
We emerged from the alley and stopped at a building at the corner: Daiichi, a pachinko parlor. Kevin is such an impressive storyteller. He tried to explain the inscrutable game of pachinko, which involves getting a bucket of balls (similar to pinballs) and pouring them into the machine. Depending on where the balls fall, you could win a lot more of them, which you can then exchange for prizes that range from a teddy bear to a gold bar. There are only four types of legal gambling in Japan and they are all sports-related betting like horse and boat racing. So the Japanese mafia (aka the yakuza) has these parlors set up so that a place conveniently located next door will buy your prizes from you for cash. There’s nothing illegal about that… ::wink wink:: (Sharon Biggar, one of my fellow JAL scholars back in 1993 went into a pachinko parlor and won a pile of cash. To this day, she had no idea how she did it.)
The intersection at Dobutsuen station marks the edge of the “dangerous” part of the city. Kevin’s wife, a native Osakan, apparently refuses to cross the street into that territory, as we soon did. It was another shotengai but it felt darker, edgier, with more storefronts closed for the night and bars that looked less welcoming. Tailing behind Kevin, we began weaving through a warren of small alleys that we would never have wandered into were we not part of this tour. He showed us an abandoned property, took us to the edge of the area where 9,000+ homeless people live and, finally, let us walk through Japan’s largest red light district, the Tobita Shinchi.
There were several things that surprised me but, upon reflection, should not.
The abandoned house looked dilapidated even in the dark. It turns out that in Japan, property values tend to fall over time. That’s right: they LOSE value, not gain, because people don’t want to live in houses that others have used. The big question for houses are: who died there? Are they still haunting the place?(An old tradition brings the deceased back to the house for one night before burial rites. I’m not sure how common this still is in modern day Japan but it sure doesn’t help those who wonder if the spirits chose to hang around after crossing over.) Children don’t want to inherit their parents’ houses either because they have likely moved away and the only thing the ancestral house adds to their lives is a liability for real estate tax.
There’s no market for used cars, clothes, etc. because the Japanese are afraid of the ghosts that may still inhabit these items. It makes sense when you think of the Shinto concept of kami. (Remember Marie Kondo?) There are spirits/gods imbued in all objects. I understand where the Japanese coming from, having grown up Chinese in an unabashedly superstitious country: the Philippines. My mother, one of the least superstitious people in my life, warned me not to display large figurines like wooden statues in my home because those items probably have spirits and “you don’t know what you’re inviting into your house”.
Homelessness in Japan is generally not caused by addiction or mental illness as much as it is by societal pressures. As we would expect of a culture shaped by Confucian values, there are only so many roads open to you as a man and as a woman. If you don’t walk them, you are left without choices and often ostracized. Many of the men in the homeless community have given up on a “Sarariman” (salaryman) corporate life, meaning they probably got laid off and couldn’t get another job in the middle of their careers. Many are hiding from their families because if one cannot get back on the path of the steady 9-5 office job to support their families and meet their responsibilities, the only other route (tragically) is suicide.
Crime/addiction is punished so severely by the law that the homeless aren’t a danger to others the way the ”unhoused” tend to be in North America. The Japanese collect cans for money so they don’t shake down pedestrians on the street. They are clean because a shower costs 100 yen (less than $1) in establishments not unlike Korean saunas (where the people can shower AND sleep) and they have access to clean public restrooms all over the city. They even maintain the park where they live, doing some landscaping and picking up litter. The locals often know and are friendly with them.
The government recently supported the homeless community in Osaka by installing a big screen TV in the park so that they can watch baseball games and root for the Hanshin Tigers just like the rest of the locals. “The Japanese government actually cares about their citizens,” Kevin said incredulously. “How mind-blowing is that?!”
When we reached the edge of the red light district, Kevin asked if we thought prostitution is legal in Japan. I answered, “It’s probably legal the way pachinko is legal.” He deemed it a good answer.
Tobita Shinchi is a couple of blocks long with two-story structures lining the street. Each establishment is officially a restaurant. Kevin said the women are gorgeous (“12s, not even 10s”), as we would soon see for ourselves. There is a “Mama-san” who does all the talking and negotiating. When patrons are solicited, they order from a menu for some of the most expensive “food” items ever sold, then they go upstairs to the second floor for whatever “tea and biscuits” they ordered. There will be a kitchenette on one side of the room and a bed on the other. It’s not a crime for people to fall in (and out) of love quickly, right?
Like pachinko, these establishments are run by the yakuza and the women are protected by them. If someone hurts the sex workers in any way, he will probably meet a fate worse than death. Kevin encouraged us to stretch our imaginations beyond broken kneecaps and involuntary residence in the trunks of cars. Sex workers also choose their customers. They don’t have to work with anyone they don’t want to deal with. I suppose, as far as the oldest profession in the world goes, these working conditions are better than many others.
We were given a choice whether or not to walk through the district. I considered not doing it, but quickly discarded that option. When exactly would I get this chance again? Kevin said he was not going to do it and will hang out with those who wanted to sit this out, but gave us some instructions. No photographs or videos. Don’t do anything stupid, and no one will bother you either.
There were about half a dozen women in our group, and we walked ahead while the men stayed about 15-20 paces behind us so they can see us in case any trouble occurs. Kevin warned that some of the sex workers may cover their faces and occasionally act hostile towards the women, considering females “competition” for their business. He told me to be especially wary since I am an Asian woman and they won’t be able to tell if I am local or not. The workers (understandably) don’t want to be recognized.
Walking down the two city blocks that comprise Tobita Sinchi was possibly the most uncomfortable, conflicting, and fascinating experiences of my life. It was like walking along the action figure aisle in a toy store, except there’s only one shelf and the figures are life-sized. Each storefront had a clear glass window and a beautiful woman sat in the middle of a brightly lit dais. Some women were dressed in costume and the “stage” was decorated accordingly to fit the theme. (I spotted at least three sailor dresses.) The “Mama-san” sat on one side of the room, sometimes off the dais, closer to the door. On the opposite side was a set of stairs that led to the second level. A few of the spaces were empty, but all the lights were on.
I didn’t know where to look and fought my instinct to smile at people. It’s true that the women were beautiful. A number of them held up their hands in front of their face or the Mama-San held up a hand to shield them while glowering at us. I’m sure they knew we were in a tour group. Later, the men said they were definitely being solicited. One of them had been on this walking tour before and their guide asked them to walk in a bigger circle with the women in the middle, and he said it was a different experience.
The only other red light district I’ve ever walked through was Patpong in Bangkok. I didn’t go into any of the bars and there was a night market in the middle of the street. I saw a woman dancing on stage (maybe around a pole?) through one of the doorways, but it was pretty blatant: shadowy, smoky environments and scantily clad women prancing around probably inebriated patrons. Nothing like this sanitized, wink/nod, IYKYK situation in Osaka. It is so uniquely Japanese, and I cannot help but find it as impressive as it is disturbing.
Afterwards, I asked Kevin where women and LGBTQ+ people go. He said there are known places for them to congregate too.
As we weaved through the dark alleys, Kevin showed us a random little neighborhood shrine in a cul de sac now known as the “cat” shrine because of its frequent feline visitors. He pointed out how, in the so-called “most dangerous” part of Japan, apartment doors are left propped open and people can leave construction materials and expensive tools at job sites overnight, but no one bothers to steal anything. The rule-following citizens will not hesitate to call out people who are breaking the law either.
Crime really doesn’t pay in Japan. Conviction rates are high, and there are substantial sentences for offenses like drug possession and theft. According to Kevin, people in jail do hard labor and the government is only required to feed them rice. Their families are responsible for loading up their accounts to pay for dishes other than rice. Given how much shame comes with having a family member in prison, I doubt that many families are motivated to acknowledge their existence, much less send support.
We ended our tour at Dobutsuen-Mae station. The people who signed up for dinner went off with Kevin, while the rest dispersed. Jordan and I headed back across the street to Janjan Yokucho where we had lunch and hit up Kushikatsu Daruma. Kushikatsu = fried skewers, another of Osaka’s famous local foods. You can order everything from chicken to mochi (which was surprisingly good) and basically, they will put them on a stick and fry it. It was a good thing our waitress was a fellow Southeast Asian from Indonesia and spoke decent English. She steered us towards a basic set to start and then we added a few things a la carte that looked interesting. After all that walking, we were famished so I didn’t even try to count how many skewers we put away. As you can see, we hated every bite…
Stuffed, we got on the subway and dragged ourselves back to the hotel. I couldn’t resist checking out the ice cream case in the konbini nearby before heading upstairs, and we were rewarded with the Chocolate Dandy: a chocolate-coated frozen waffle with a chocolate filling inside… another item that has no right to be this good coming out of a convenience store freezer.
Thus ended another epic, ~20K step day in Japan. We looked forward to the arrival of our friends the next day and went to bed.
LINKS:
