Voices from the Wellhead: The Secret History of Shinjuku, 1990s-2000s

Voices from the Wellhead: The Secret History of Shinjuku, 1990s-2000s

In a corner of Kabukicho in Shinjuku in those days, I used to listen to well-wishers. But they were not really well-wishers, but rather spontaneous gatherings of residents in front of a small snack bar in a back alley or in a corner of a coffee shop where the morning had just begun, and they would gossip. Everyone would laugh and say, "It's the statute of limitations, so it's a revelation," and spit out what was going on behind the scenes that they would never normally talk about. For example, the owner of that store was actually funded by the underworld, or an ostensibly serious real estate agent became a gambling ring at night, and stories like these passed with the smoke of a cigarette.

I felt as if I was listening to the conversation from afar, even though I was present. The conversation soon turned to the raw truth of who had a love-hate relationship with whom, and which police force was connected to which group. Everyone seemed to be able to hide their excitement even as they kept their voices down, as if they were confirming that they were a part of the city by telling their stories. It was as if actors were throwing lines at each other on stage, each word spinning out the hidden history of this city.

Shinjuku in the 1990s and 2000s was a time when the desire lurking in the shadows of the economy seeped into every corner of the city. Everyone was betting on survival between the bubbling remnants of the bubble economy and the new businesses that had been created by the deregulation of the city. Against this backdrop, the residents' well-meetings were not mere chitchat, but rather an exchange of information for survival, and at times, a ritual to confirm the town's code of conduct. I could not help but feel that the town itself was speaking to me.