THE HAIRY GIRAFFE… IN JAPAN
After three weeks in Japan, it’s time to reflect. How did we experience this journey? What were our joys, disappointments, questions, doubts, and discoveries? This is not merely an assessment of a country but rather of a trip—how we perceived it individually and subjectively.
 We are François and Benjamin, Canadian and French giraffe hairstylists and travel enthusiasts. On this blog, discover our travels, tips, moods, and everything you need to become a giraffe hairstylist and embark on travelling the world. An honest blog with photos guaranteed 100% unfiltered and untouched. |
François’ Travel Reflections
Including Japan in the itinerary of our world tour was my wish. It was impossible for me to pass by without stopping there. It was also a guaranteed break from modernity and rest (although we didn’t end up resting as much as expected). It was also the carrot that allowed me to get through our stay in India, the most difficult moment of this world tour for me. For Benjamin, Japan was déjà vu. He visited the country a few years ago and didn’t have an exceptional memory of it. Nevertheless, being the great husband that he is, he agreed to make Japan the eighth destination of our world tour. It must be said that this time, it would be different. He had by his side a true video game fan, a Nintendo child!
I was born the same year as Mario. I grew up playing Nintendo video games. I still have a photo of myself taken in the early ’90s, sitting on my grandfather, unwrapping my NES console. The one that started it all. I spent hours playing Mario alone, trying to save Princess Peach kidnapped by the evil Bowser. (I only managed to do it years later). I also spent a lot of time playing The Legend of Zelda, that famous golden cartridge, without understanding anything because I didn’t speak a word of English.
You probably don’t know it, but I experienced the war, and I even actively participated in it. And not just any war. THE war. The one that shook and forever marked an entire generation of children around the world, especially in the West. The scale of the conflict was so significant that every child had to take sides. Even if some (few) remained neutral and didn’t feel concerned, all of us, at the tender age of ten, used our charm and influence with our parents to obtain the necessary weapons to enter the fray, because there was indeed a fray. Especially on the school playgrounds. Of course, we also experienced our fair share of defectors who switched from one side to the other. We saw them as privileged rather than enemies to be defeated. The worst part is that for a majority of you, this conflict that lasted about ten years completely passed you by. You’ll never know the joy of fervently answering the famous question: what do you have at home? A Super Nintendo or a Sega Genesis (in America, or Mega Drive for the rest of the world)? Each side had its mascot. Mario, the mustachioed Italian plumber, for Team Nintendo. Sonic, the supersonic blue hedgehog, for Team Sega.
For my part, I always remained faithful to Nintendo. Despite a few lapses where I would try Sonic at a neighbor’s house, fervently Team Sega, only Nintendo consoles entered my home. I also didn’t succumb when the PlayStation wave swept the world a few years later. My free time was spent in the company of Mario, Link, Yoshi, Kirby, and Donkey Kong.
For over 20 years, my aunt, my mother, and my grandmother contributed to nurturing my affection for Nintendo by buying consoles and video games birthday after birthday. Now, it’s a portion of my income that goes into the coffers of the Japanese brand for the same reasons. With Mario and company, I relaxed and let off steam. I also developed my reflexes, concentration, and a considerable dexterity with my thumbs. I also polished my English. It’s worth noting that in the 90s and early 2000s, the vast majority of video games in America were in English. To tackle an adventure filled with puzzles and texts like a Zelda game, my English-French dictionary was a valuable ally.
More than thirty years after the opening of that first NES, my interest in video games has not diminished. Although my range of consoles has diversified (Sony eventually entered my home), I am still a fan of Nintendo and its universe. I continue to play with as much pleasure the games from the franchises that have shaped my childhood.
And that’s not all. Nintendo realized a few years ago that there was money to be made with its licenses and now offers them in derivative products. As a child, I would have given anything to have figurines and plush toys featuring Yoshi or Mario. Unfortunately, in the 90s, that didn’t exist. But don’t worry about me, I’ve made up for lost time.
Now, in a Nintendo Store, I’m like a kid in a candy store. I get excited over every Nintendo-branded item and usually end up buying it (much to Benjamin’s dismay). Coming to Japan to immerse myself in this video game universe was a dream I cherished for a long time. That’s why I had so much fun at Super Nintendo World. I was given the chance for two days to enter this universe that I love so much, to truly embark on a quest for virtual keys to bring peace to the Mushroom Kingdom. That’s also why I look completely ecstatic in front of Nintendo’s offices in Kyoto. For many, it’s just another gray building like so many others in Japan. However, for me, it’s like touching the Holy Grail; it’s the culmination of a childhood dream.
Apart from Nintendo, what is Japan like?
Even though we spent a lot of time in video game shops, we also thoroughly enjoyed Japan itself. We immersed ourselves in the culture by visiting countless temples, attending a sumo training session, delving into the world of ninjas and samurais, and consuming kilos of noodles.
I really enjoyed my time in Japan, there’s no denying that. However, I found Japanese society to be quite dull. Due to their reserved nature, the Japanese people appeared to me as a somber population. We never heard anyone laughing. The only people we saw smiling were those in customer service roles where establishing a commercial relationship is mandatory. In the streets or on public transportation, none of our smiles or friendly looks elicited the same response from the Japanese people we encountered. After a month in China where smiles and interactions with Western tourists like us were common, it’s admittedly a bit strange. Perhaps the overtourism prevalent throughout the country is the cause. Indeed, it may have created a dislike among the Japanese towards Westerners. After all, we invade their religious sites, making them less conducive to reflection. We fill up their public transportation, forcing them to endure long journeys standing or to wait for the next less crowded bus. We arrive with our culture diametrically opposed to theirs.
In Tokyo, I also expected to find brightly colored hair and eccentric outfits inspired by manga (after all, it’s the land of manga) as was the case in Seoul. But no. Colorful styles are very rare, even among young people. In Japanese society, standing out is discouraged. Everything is about appearances, and social pressure is incredibly powerful. One must not feel ashamed, and even less so, bring shame upon their family. This way of life is completely opposite to the one I grew up with. In America (and even more so now with woke culture), it’s almost mandatory to stand out to survive.
Japan is also a highly codified country. There’s a specific way to board a bus. Another for paying at a cash register. There’s a manner of eating at a restaurant, but beware, it’s not the same if you’re having ramen or sushi. There’s a way to navigate an onsen. In short, there are plenty of codes that govern daily life. These are well known to the Japanese and ensure the smooth functioning of the social system. However, when a Western tourist arrives, their ignorance of these codes can quickly derail the system. Tendering money directly to the cashier instead of placing it in the designated tray will cause a malfunction. The cashier will be extremely uncomfortable, apologize endlessly, and bow until they risk a lower back injury just to save face.
The best example to illustrate this happened when we sent our parcels from Tokyo. Japanese customs require us to declare the contents of the boxes, indicating not only the type of item being sent but also a code specific to it provided by the postal service. So far, so good. We understood the code. The machine could work without a problem. In this shipment, there was a game controller. The only problem was that the postal software only listed the item as a game cartridge. The code for a controller (or any synonym) didn’t exist. That’s when the machine crashed. It was at that precise moment that we saw “Error 404” appear in the employee’s eyes. She refused to send the package until the code for the controller item was indicated. No matter how much we explained that the code didn’t exist in her system, it didn’t matter. A code was needed. There was an empty box that had to be filled in. Protocol had to be followed. Faced with such psychorigidity, we had no choice but to invent a code. With the void filled, the machine could resume operation.
Is Japan Worth Visiting?
Yes, definitely. Even though, in my opinion, you can clearly feel the trend caused in part by exaggerated images of the country due to influencers who doctor their photos (to make cherry blossoms pink when they’re white, to erase people in crowded places, etc.). The country has beautiful things to offer. Its ancient culture (think samurais, daimyos, emperors, and others) and modern culture (video games, manga, kawaii) are worth exploring and immersing oneself in. However, to avoid any missteps, it’s better to familiarize yourself with customs and practices before arriving and, once there, keep an eye open to observe the behaviors of the Japanese. Otherwise, you better be good at mechanics, because you’ll have to fix the machine.
Check out Benjamin’s Travel Reflections:
Find all our other articles on Japan:
