Something fishy
Wednesday, January 11th, 2006Japan is one of the safest, if not the safest, country around. I’ve literally never felt threatened in any way here…until Tsukiji fish market made it on my itinerary. I finally woke up early enough on a day in November to visit this famous corner of Tokyo carved out of the buzzing trains and skyscrapers. Up by 6:30, on the train at 7:00, delving into the market at a quarter to eight. I still had a couple of hours to see the action.
First, we need some perspective: Shinjuku station is the busiest train station on Earth. Everyday around two million people pass through this hub all going different directions. You can imagine the tension that this recipe for collision creates. Now imagine that you’ve given half of everyone at Shinjuku a bike, motor scooter, or motor powered cart. This is Tsukiji.
Like most of Japan, Tsukiji is a combination of old and new, but there is something uniquely special here. This market is right in the heart of central Tokyo’s busy business district, yet nowhere else have I felt what I imagine to be the “samurai spirit” thriving so powerfully than in the fishmongers of this market.
But we’ll get back to them shortly. First, I need to clarify that it is disingenuous to describe Tsukiji as a market. Rather, it is an international seafood exposition that occurs every week, Monday through Friday, beginning with the tuna auction at 4am. If it’s in the ocean, then it can be found, dead or alive, somewhere in these eight city blocks where the mouth of the Sumida River meets Tokyo Bay. And being Japan, it’s almost all ready to eat as-is. Yum!
Now I love fish of every variety, but there was some crazy stuff here that I was a little queasy about. Most of it I’ve probably already eaten, but to see it in that raw form is so amazing. For example, let’s take the fish liver. They don’t take it out for display, oh no. They artistically slice the fish open to display how nice this liver is. If you want that fish’s liver you’ve gotta buy the whole fish, buddy.
But there I was, with no intention of buying any of these sea beasts. I stood, bobbed, and occasionally weaved my way through the extremely narrow stall ways. If you aren’t at Tsukiji to buy fish or sell fish, you are an obstacle. You are in the way! Japan has been such a friendly place, totally foreigner friendly, until that day at Tsukiji. For the first time I was sworn at in Japanese…I’m pretty sure. These fishmongers are nicknamed “Edo-ko,” translated “children of Edo.” The Edo period of Japan was the quintessential samurai time, so when I say that the spirit of the samurai still thrives, I meant it. These Edo-ko actually speak a slightly different dialect of Japanese. So I stood and gawked, took pictures like the dorkiest tourist ever, and was sworn at in a strange Japanese fish dialect before pigging out on sushi. And all before 10am! What a cool place.
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