Sketches of Akihabara
I was chillin in Akihabara, or Akiba as the people who want to seem like they know a lot about Tokyo will say, and felt woefully out of place as I was the only person without a Playstation portable in my hands.
I bowed my head, mimicking the body language of the locals and tried to pretend my iPhone was a PSP. But it was just fakery, and not immersion, as I was too aware of my surroundings and conscious not to bump into the other loafing gamers.
Instead I just started to count the number of times I was collided into by a drifting PSPer. (by the time I caught the last train it was around 7. not counting the station madness)
Getting deeper into Akiba, I started popping into random shops, looking for insights into this mecca of geek and tech culture. Most of the bin sized shops I poked around in had barely any offerings that were recognizable. There was never a full computer for sale, but instead shelves and boxes of components. I didn’t know what I was looking at.
In another, more prime time area is was all large A/V shops and maid cafes. Sheepish looking salarymen clustered near the openings to the cafes, taking a pause from their PSPing just long enough to peer around to see if anyone was watching. As soon as they noticed everyone else was fully immersed in slaying dragons they would scurry up the stairs with the frantic shuffling of a classic nerd toting a briefcase.
Maids stood on the streets, with perma smiles, looking like video game avatars, no doubt enticing for the set that calls Akihabara home. I headed past them and into one of the giant A/V megastores.
All megastores I’ve ventured into in Japan have the same feel. The aisles are narrow, the products are many and arranged randomly (rows of potted plants sold next to rows of laundry machines.) and they feature the same audio scape. One sound signature of Japan is lightweight midi music adaptations of 1980’s American pop songs. (Think, the digital symphony of The Legend of Zelda performing ‘Danger Zone.’) Another sound signature is some guy yelling in a shrill voice through a small cone, even if there is a crowd gathered mere feet in front of him.
In the end, due to the assaulting cacophony of sound and the illogical arrangements of product, I forgot entirely what I was browsing for. I think it was a fake palm tree, or at least they seemed really appealing on this night tucked right next to the unaffordably priced washer/dryer/tv/refrigerator hybrid space saver.
I went back out to the streets to find a ramen joint where I would be served by a human being and not a video game character…










