pinky, the ghetto care bear

I had to go to the doctor today in Shibuya, to get a new prescription for birth control.  Here in Japan, my prescription for the pill has to be renewed every month.  As a result, I've never made so many meaningless trips to the doctor's office in my life.  It's become like a ritual.  First I wait for an hour in the waiting room, then when my number is finally called I walk into his office and say "same as last month."  He says "ok," checks some boxes on the computer screen at his desk then clicks his mouse on "enter," and I am out in less than a minute.  Seriously, I think we spoke for less than 30 seconds today.  Birth control is not covered by my national health insurance, but in a country where the health minister has referred to women as "birth-giving-machines," on record, what can you really expect.

At least I got through the process more quickly than I usually do.  The waiting room was not nearly as crowded as usual, seeing as a lot of people are on holiday this week.  I was running pretty far ahead of schedule, with two whole hours to kill before I had to be at my AA meeting this evening in Roppongi.  I had my camera with me, so I thought I might lurk around Shibuya and take pictures of weird things.  But I decided against it, because everyone else had the same idea.  Everyone takes pictures in Shibuya.  And I swear, every other person in Shibuya was holding a camera today.

So instead of staying in Shibuya for a good hour of random street photography, I hopped the Yamanote line and got off a few stops over in Shinjuku.  Heading out the East exit, I emerged in Kabukicho.  Not too many people go around snapping photos on the streets of Kabukicho.  Maybe they're scared to.  Kabukicho after all, is considered to be the most dangerous neighborhood in Tokyo.  And yet, to be "the most dangerous" neighborhood in a city where virtually nobody (but senior gang members) owns a gun, says basically nothing.   

Still, it is more or less a red light district that is overrun with yakuza.  "Kabuki" refers to the traditional Japanese theater, while "cho" means town.  That said, the district's name evokes referrences to a time in the nation's history when theater actors were synonymous with prostitutes.

And now, you are about to witness the heart of the Tokyo Ghetto.  You have been warned.

Can you find Winnie-the-Pooh hiding in the enterance to this sex shop??

And here we have the back of a host. 

                  

Hosts can easily be spotted in the area.  Just look for their giant, overstyled hair. 

The building at the end of the road that looks like an enchanted castle is a love hotel.  Kabukicho is known for those, too.

I can't decide which job would be worse: a Kabukicho host, or that pink bear.  That suit's gotta be hot in this heat wave.  And I thought the salarymen had it bad. . .

Ok, that's enough for today.  Byebye from Tokyo Ghettoland!!

      

      

Comments

[Matt]

I have to say, coming from a fairly "safe" country namely Sweden, that I wandered around Kabukicho both in broad daylight and at 3-5 at night and felt MUCH safer than anywhere here in Stockholm. Admittedly I might have been strolling around in the outskirts of the area (ever seen a small bar called Rockbar Mother?) so I'm not sure I really know what I'm talking about... =D

A woman did come up to me at one point and started talking japanese to me (I didn't know much at that time)... and for some reason I thought she wanted help of some kind... how wrong I was... after a quick "No thanks, I'm good." I walked past a whole square filled with people sleeping on the pavement.

[postpaleo]

And the streets are clean, lol.

I've sometimes thought about that word ghetto and how it is used, what it's intent.

I used to wander the back streets and main of a small city in my youth, very late, early morning really. Thought about the saftey of it. Wondered why I wasn't meeting the bad people out to do me no good. The lack of police, oh they were there, I was just avoiding them because I didn't want the hassle of them. Long hair in that place and time marked you in a very bad way in their eyes. Well, I still wondered about the lack of the bad and then I thought, hey, maybe I'm the one my mother warned me about.

I think if I had seen that pink bear, I might have been rethinking my life much earlier then I did. But then again, maybe I would have thought I had just gotten my moneys worth. Cute little fella. Is he/she a sex toy? Doesn't do a thing for me. Maybe it's a Japanese thing.

[VicariousRising]

Just wanted to tell you how much I love your blog. Finally got a chance to catch up on it today. Have a really crappy internet connection. Just wanted to say hi and let you know I am thinking of you and that reading your stuff is a real delight.
~Judith

[postpaleo]

Looks like Shinjuku translates to Piss Alley, seems so according to one spot I looked. Maria Cross is something else again. All I can say with that is, wow. I just don't see it, over my head. Like to meet him over a coffee though. Sad part is, I wouldn't be able to get the inflections in his voice, even if I could understand the basics of the language or have it translated on the spot. The body language might even escape me, even if watching for it. A good translator is worth their weight in gold and then some. I do think the interpretation of others isn't just all about the word, more to it then that. That it's often what isn't said.