Voices of Young People Echoing in the Morning in Northern Kanto, circa 1985-86

Voices of Young People Echoing in the Morning in Northern Kanto, circa 1985-86
On a winter morning when the first market of the northern Kanto region opened for business, the precincts of Hachiman Shrine were filled with a quiet but enthusiastic atmosphere as tekiyas from all over Japan rubbed shoulders with one another. The first thing that caught the reporter's ear was a short greeting exchanged by the young people. Chihassu," "Gokuro sansu," "Okkaressu. These words, which were uttered in a few syllables, sounded almost like everyday words, but had a professional tone that instantly tightened the atmosphere of the place. The final sass of the word was sharply played, and both a soft humility with an awareness of hierarchical relationships and the spirit of a young man stood out at the same time. The shortness of the words rather showed their power, as it was clear that the author was overwhelmed.
At that time, in the mid-1980s, Japan was on the eve of the bubble economy, and the streets were filled with signs of mass consumption, and local shopping districts were beginning to transform. At the same time, traditional markets and fairs were once again positioned as a part of local culture, and tekiyas continued to be an indispensable professional group that supported them. There were no such things as cell phones, and all communication and instructions had to be done face to face and confirmed by voice communication. For this reason, the voice was a tool for work, and for the young people, it was an especially important proof. In a few short words, they expressed courtesy, spirit, the ability to read the atmosphere, and the lingering scent of the apprenticeship system.
The greeting of the young people was also an extension of the culture of the working body itself. In a working environment where people had to drive all night and move from city to city, the strength of their voices was as important as their physical strength. The tension in the voice was a sign of judgment and preparedness, and efficiency was also required to omit superfluous explanations and skip over only the necessary information. Therefore, greetings were naturally short and sharp, and at the same time played the role of maintaining a warm psychological distance among colleagues. The craftsmanship of conveying information between people without saying much was deeply rooted in the tekiya society, and the voices of the young people were symbolic of this culture.
The three greetings that echoed in the line at the reception desk of the first market, each extremely brief, were layered with the long-standing customs, hierarchical relationships, rigors of mobile labor, and pride in their work that had led them there. The words were few, but the meaning they contained was heavy. Each time their voices bounced in the cold morning air, the order of the place was established, and their existence as young people took shape. The slightest exchange of sound reflected the structure of a society.