Last Kabukicho Update

Here's the thing, the painful truth of it all, there is a reason the UN and the US designate Japan as just meeting the bare minimum for fighting human trafficking: they don't see it as a real issue.

Human trafficking and sex slavery is technically not illegal here. Just like underage porn is not really illegal. I have seen porn of kindergartens. Not adults or teens wearing kindergarten uniforms (but yes that is 100% a thing too) but actual drawings of people made to look as correct to a 4/5 year old girl as possible. And people buy it. The underage porn is the higher market. But, hey, what's age when the national law of consent is 13?

Yeah, yeah, prefectural laws usually raise it to 20, but that does not change that the national--again, national--law of consent is 13. And because women here are still seen more as... others, this law does little boys no favors either. Oh, yes, I know, the law for homosexual relations says they need to be 18 to consent. It also says they can be fired everyone outside of the Tokyo area.

Relating this back to Kabukicho, because women are others and because of the law of consent and porn in this country, there is no movement on sex trafficking. Gaijin are also 'others'. The crackdowns in Kabukicho focus on making sure the junior high fetish clubs stay to a minimum. Again, not high school, but junior high.

And so, to end my rant of how there is absolutely no progress in just getting a waitress or two out of forced sexual labor, I've started the process for taking the Foreign Service Officer Test (FSOT). I need to try to get the test scheduled on my day off in 5 weeks. If I pass, I have to go to Washington in March for an interview. I'd need to break my contract here, but honestly, the work culture and a bunch of stuff regarding other parts of the culture is plain awful. If I end up a FSO, my first order of business will be going after the sex trade in Kabukicho. You cannot be part of the UN and ignore something like that.

When I Was...

I recently broke down and got some pocket Wi-Fi. Not because I needed Google Maps, like the recommended reason to purchase this, but because I wanted to play Pokémon GO. It's been difficult to make anything near progress in gym fighting or coin collecting.

So, I was outside fighting in a gym during my lunch break. I hear a camera shutter, and look up. A girl and her boyfriend took a picture of me. She had stood behind me and posed, and he had taken the picture.

And that's the time when I was used as a photo prop so a couple could say they saw a gaijin.

Gaijin Encounters

I think I explained it before, but "gaijin" is basically "foreigner". Japan is up in the 90s for pure Japanese population, so gaijin tend to stand out. For better or worse.

There are different types of gaijin though. Or, I'd say you have two different categories. You have visitors. I even include students on a one semester study abroad under here. Then you have the expat. This country is very different if you are a gaijin and visiting verse a gaijin and working/living here. (Then you get other differences based on ethnicity, gender, and sexual orientation but let's just stick with the two.)

There have been a handful of times now when I've run into another expat and we knew we were both expats. It's a bizarre experience that I can't exactly explain. But, I'll try.

In Japan, people don't look at each other. They walk around staring off, or staring down. That's another way gaijin, especially Westerners, stand out. (This is why I get all warm and fuzzy when I see parents with their kids and they're actually interacting with them instead of the more normal silence.)

I was waiting around at Ikebukuro Station one afternoon, using the free station internet to catch some Pokémon. I looked up, and coming into the station was a gaijin. Nothing unusual. Ikebukuro is a popular, urban area so it is full of gaijin. But this was different. We made full eye contact, starting grinning like two kids that knew the same secret, nodded recognition, and that was it.

The encounter lasted no more than half a second, but in that half second it was clear that this gaijin was a fellow expat.

I would've written this off as an isolated incident except that it happened again. This time not in a busy place like Ikebukuro, but in my own town. At the station mall slash grocery store.

It was a weekend, so I was off work before the stores closed. I've started cutting through the mall and going out through the grocery store on those nights, because it's very hot and sometimes I trick myself into thinking I'll buy some groceries so that I won't need to on my day off. But, since I'm always too tired and with just a half hour before everything closes, it has become nothing more than a shortcut.

I was coming down the escalator, exhausted from working all day. When I'm halfway down, a gaijin passes the bottom. He paused, stepped back, and looked at me. We both grinned, nodded, and went our separate ways without a word. I'm fully convinced he was another expat, and that he recognized my exhaustion.

The final encounter for this post will be an example that happened a couple of weeks ago. This also occurred outside my station. It actually happened outside the door I exited after the second encounter.

I was on the tail end of a cold, so I was wandering around with a surgical mask. It was also bright, so I was wearing sunglasses. With my face 95% obscure, maybe I should have been so surprised to have two young guys holding a "Let's Speak English" sign yell out: "What's up? Do you speak English?" But that is what happened.

Keep in mind, I wasn't near them. I was about twenty feet away. Also keep in mind that this is Japan, where talking to your friend in an audible voice on the train is considered rude. I tell them I'm American, and they got super excited because they were also American. Me knowing they can't move from their spot under the tree (because they were advertising for the English language church in the area) I go over to struggle to talk, because my voice wasn't yet 100% from losing it.

I find out they've been their two weeks, and were having a difficult time getting Japanese people to talk to them. Let me, again, remind you that they shout at me as I was walking by. But, I wish them good luck and say I'll attend one of their English parties sometime.

And that is an example of non-expats. They'll live here for a couple of months tops, and then go home to speak a few phrases in Japanese and talk about the great--and slightly odd--time they had. Because, as I started with, Japan is different if you are a gaijin and you live and work here. If you work here, really work here, you recognize that exhaustion. And if you are a gaijin that works and lives here, you know that no matter how nice and great people are, there is an unspoken barrier. You are a gaijin. You are not Japanese. That is an unchangeable fact.

Return to Shinjuku

Got kind of busy there, but I'm back with a recent exploit. And one that doesn't involve human trafficking.

Monday is supposed to be my day off, but as luck had it the week I was sick enough to lose my voice (causing mild panic among my staff as my voice is a huge factor in my job) was also a 6 day work week for me. The Monday I desperately needed to have off instead was spent on more training.

Now my staff did try on three occasions to reschedule this, but I turned it down. I wanted to get it over with, and I didn't want another day off taken away for it when I was already mentally prepped to lose this one. Plus, they would have tossed me with a different group and not the ones I lived with for 2 weeks. So, I declined and just went feeling lousy. I'm paying for it a bit now.

After the tedious, and honestly pointless, 8 hours of training everyone went off their separate ways. Me and the kid in Hokkaido once again went off together to Shinjuku. The weather was even the same as the night we found the slave in Kabukicho.

The original plan was to go back to get a photo of the branding, but with me sick I called it off. Instead, we walked arpund and tried very hard to stay out of Kabukicho. Failing and walking by the restaurant.

But, as said, this isn't about Kabukicho. While we we're walking around, a little old homeless lady was wandering around trying to give change to foreigners. It was the same old lady that tried giving me money. She followed us a bit, not recognizing me, and kept tapping the kid on his back trying to get his attention. I told her "no change" and she left. Then had to explain she gave change to people, because it is the weirdest experience being chased by an old homeless lady waving a coin at you.

She stays around the same area which is near the bookstore where I first met her. I might try bringing her a lunch at some point, since I don't know how giving her money would work with her trying to give it to random gaijin.

That Time My Managers Shrieked...

Here's a thing about working for a Japanese company that is probably a bit different than working for an American one: performance reviews. Now, that doesn't sound different on the surface. Employees, especially new ones, undergo reviews all the time. What sets the Japanese model apart is that you are given a handout--much like you would in the 4th grade--and then you grade yourself, and write comments beneath each section. Your managers have this same handout, and they grade you. You then give them your copy so they can look it over, make a scan for records, and then you set a meeting date and time.

You go into this meeting with no knowledge of how they graded you, but with them having full knowledge of how you graded yourself. The meeting always starts the same: thanking each other for setting the date and time, and for taking the time to meet (when you really had zero say in it), and then small talk. Small talk is a cornerstone in Japanese business. All meetings start with 5-10 minutes of nothing, whereas in America there is no beating around the bush. All parties understand why there is a meeting, so you just have your meeting. This style is seen as abrasive over here.

Small talk is not my favorite. I personally think it is a waste of time, most especially in a meeting setting when everyone knows the purpose of meeting. But, I'm a team player--at least at work--so we start with small talk after our 1-2 minutes of thanking each other was over.

One manager opened our small talk portions with the ever awkward question of "if you stayed in America how would your life be different?" which sounds more rude than it was meant. She was trying to ask if I was homesick, and missed what opportunities I may've had lined up over there. But, this brings us to why this was awkward and why I had two middle aged Japanese women shriek "Nani!" and "What!" loud enough that the rest of the office heard.

See, they knew my degree was National Security and Intelligence related, but that isn't something that fully connected. Even in America, that gets some eyebrows raised. In Japan, where everything is "safe" and peachy, well... disconnect is an understatement. So, after a pause of trying to figure out how to word my answer, I said "well... I probably would've been hunting terrorists or something, so... yeah my life here is very different."

Cue the shrieks. Cue me restating my degree, and trying desperately to get them to just start the meeting. It took awhile. they started asking me follow up questions like if the building was safe.

So, yes, performance reviews are awkward. I don't like the style they're done at over here. All this could've been avoided if we didn't do small talk.

The Return to the Den

After stumbling upon a slave in Kabukicho, I skipped the area the following week. I'd been approached on the train platform shortly after splitting off from my co-worker that night. It struck me as odd that a East European man came out of nowhere and started talking to me, and then sat with me for almost an hour on the train. My first instinct had been to lie, and that's not a good sign.

So, to play it safe, I didn't go to Kabukicho the following week. I still went to Shinjuku, but stuck to the main part of the city. I made a plan to hit up the restaurant June 3rd to get pictures. I sent an order to the kid in Hokkaido to report me as missing if I didn't contact him by 1am, and went off.

Quick aside: When we left that restaurant, we came to an unspoken agreement that this was a secret.

Now, I didn't want to get this kid wrapped up in things further, but no one answered the call to go to dinner. If I was wandering in there alone, I needed someone to know where I was and it only made sense to tell the guy who was in on it too.

I don't go to Shinjuku until I'm getting ready to head home. So, for the day I went to Yokohama. I took pictures of things. Took some video. It was horribly hot, so I wasn't there long. But, long enough for my phone to rapidly drain.

I hit Ikebukuro instead of Shinjuku to go home. Sent the kid a text telling him it was off for the week so he wouldn't worry. This was the first time I hadn't gone to Shinjuku since arriving in Japan. It was a weird feeling.

I planned out a strategy for the 10th.

I put out an offer to go to Nakano, and got a taker. I also set up skating in Takadanobaba. This set me up with two possible "backups".

Naturally, not everyone gets along. I met up in Nakano with one guy before skating. I invited him to come along, but he can't stand the guy I was going to skate with, That was a blimp since he did want to go to Shinjuku that night.

I figured out arrangements. Skate for an hour, cut the second guy off since it wasn't known if he wanted to go to Shinjuku, and meet up with the first guy again. But, of course, things don't work out that smoothly. My original plan was to bum around, and take him to dinner around 9:30. Things had to change for two reasons: first, we were meeting up with a girl from our training group, and second, Aladdin was showing. Both wanted to watch the movie. I agreed, but with no earlier showing available (you have to reserve your tickets for movies here) this put our end time after 11. The restaurant would be closed.

I was carrying my skates and a stuffed Pikachu. I asked the guy to hold my things while I went to check on something. But, this didn't work. With easily 20 minutes+ until our co-worker arrived, he decided to come along, and asked many questions about where I was going.

We'd eaten not long ago, so when we stopped outside the restaurant, naturally, he was confused. He started up the questions--or never stopped them. I told him that we weren't eating. I then told him that I needed him to stop asking questions, and do what I tell him.

The plan was easy. We go inside, ask to see a menu, and he pretends to read it while I get pictures and videos. Two snags: this guy wouldn't stop asking questions, muttering the entire time, and it was too early. The restaurant only recently re-opened for the dinner hours. There were no waitress on staff.

I hand the menu back, and thank the waiter. We leave, and before we're even out of the restaurant completely, the questions start back up. I wait until we're out of ear-shot to answer: "This is a front for human trafficking. No one can know." Saying he looked shocked is an understatement.

I briefly told what had happened as we walked back to the theater. I explained that Monday morning I spent emailing charities and gathering information on organizations to get more attention focused on the area. I do at least a walk through the Kabukicho area, but don't stop in anywhere. I explained our co-worker knew, and that I have had to give the "if I disappear" order to him. I re-stressed no one can know right before we called out to our co-worker and went into the theater together.

The week after, I walked through Kabukicho and had a man watch me too carefully near the restaurant. Most likely it was nothing, but I'm skipping the area for the next couple of weeks just to play it safe.

There are two outcomes for the end of this that I see as the best. The first is that patrols break up the ring, or significantly damage it. The second, all this is nothing more than a horrible misunderstanding.

I've never wanted to be wrong so bad.

When You Aren't Normal...

Everyone has something about them that makes them abnormal. Especially when certain aspects of normal are relative. As I've been discovering over the course of this job is that I've had a fair number of these abnormal happenings.

Take this example:

During training, one night the sixteen of us were eating in the common room with the Japanese only TV on. I don't remember how it came up--maybe the show was medical--but I said something about the "sclera". I had fifteen people whip around and stare, and ask what I was talking about. Clarified "the whites of the eye".

This confused me a bit. I asked if they ever heard the word before, and the defense was "we didn't study biology".

Now, if I left it at that this would've stayed more towards normal. But... I hadn't learned that from college biology. So, my confused reply: "But you were in second grade? Didn't you learn the parts of the eye when you did your sheep eye dissection?"

I learned that night that dissecting sheep eyes was not a standard part of second grade curriculum.

Another example happened recently during a counseling session:

I was speaking with a client, and he kept going off on tangents about a variety of things. One topic was finger prints, and how when we were kids that was the key evidence to a detective story, but now detective stories all have how the finger prints were faked. So my comment that started a train wreck, "Finger prints can change too. I got my finger cut open here by a hole puncher, so the print is a little different than before."

Now, my scar on that finger is almost impossible to see after twenty years. The scar on the finger I got from doing a knife defense with my friend (who was an assistant Krav Maga teacher at the time) is a different story. He asked how I got that one. Well... "I was doing a knife defense with my friend. She was an assistant Krav Maga instructor." What's that? "An Israeli fighting system." A real knife? "...Yes." Kitchen knife? "...No." She stabbed you with a knife?! "No... I was trying to stab her... and she defended... and there is no way to make this sound good or normal."

He commented that he liked asking me questions, because it was like hearing something from a movie every time.

The very last example I have comes from another client:

Part of my job is conversation, so lots and lots of small-talk. Which I hate. Well, I asked him if he had hobbies as a kid. He told me shogi. He mimicked my question. And without thinking "I used to sell Pokémon cards to my classmates."

After a few seconds of silence with him staring like I had six eyes, "That's not a hobby. That's a business." Then he laughed.

Those are the three examples that pop into my mind when I think about how something that to me was just a part of my life is seen as strange and somewhat fascinating to other people.