Big in Japan: Why Japan leads the world in suicide

by Matthew Firestone on

Before you read any further, please adhere to the following warning:

Although it’s the Holiday season, this post most likely is going to depress the hell out of you, especially if you’re living in Japan.

Are you still with me? Alright then, but don’t say that I didn’t warn you.

This week, the Japanese government announced that the number of suicides in the country topped 30,000 for the ninth straight year in a row. Clearly, this was one record that they were not happy to achieve.

At the press conference, Chief Cabinet Secretary Nobutaka Machimura said that a combination of economic hardships and job stress were the leading factors behind the high suicide rate.

Although the government said that employers were obliged to treat depression at the workplace, they are also proposing a range of measures including raising society’s awareness of depression and promoting mental health programs.

In fact, the government hopes that by the year 2016, they will have succeeded in cutting the number of suicides by 20 percent. “This is a problem that needs to be dealt with comprehensively by society,” Machimura told reporters.

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The raw data on suicides is, to say the least, all together depressing.

According to government projections, 32,155 people killed themselves last year, which was a decrease of 397 from the previous year.

However, according to data released by the World Health Organization (WHO), Japan’s suicide rate remains the ninth-highest in the world.

(In case you were wondering, Lithuania had the highest suicide rate, followed by Belarus and Russia. And, for the record, the United States ranked No. 43 in the report).

So why exactly do so many people in Japan kill themselves?

Although it’s difficult to objectively measure quality of life, Machimura believes that Japanese people are strongly impacted by financial pressures and job stress.

“Suicide rates tend to rise when there is a recession and long working hours may also have an influence” said Machimura.

However, despite the monumental task ahead, Machimura is convinced that the government can effectively reduce suicide rates. “Suicide can be prevented. A sickness of the heart is a sickness, therefore it can be cured.”

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Government findings also indicated that the highest rates of suicide were in the northern prefecture of Akita. The report also found that men are more likely to commit suicide than women, and that Monday was the most popular day for ending one’s life as opposed to a Saturday or holiday.

In regards to methodology, the most common method of suicide chosen by Japanese people is hanging, while young people prefer to asphyxiate themselves on the carbon monoxide from charcoal burners.

The report also highlighted the sad reality that Tokyo train services are frequently halted by people jumping on the tracks.

As I said, today’s post was anything but shiny and happy, though hopefully everyone reading this can take a moment to appreciate the value of their lives, and head into the weekend with a smile their face.

On that note, please do smile – sometimes it truly is the best medicine!

Big in Japan: Exploding piggy bank helps you save money

by Matthew Firestone on

Do you have problems saving money? Need a little bit of extra cash before the winter holiday season? Wish there was some way to teach the little ones about the value of money?

If you answered yes to any or all of the above questions, than I’ve got the answer that you’ve been looking for.

In a press conference last week, the famous Japanese Toy Maker TOMY Co Ltd announced the release of their new exploding piggy bank, which they hope will make saving money more of a thrill.

Seriously.

Once activated, the battery operated piggy bank shakes, shines and beeps on an hourly basis to remind the user to feed it coins. However, if the user fails to add money to the bank on a daily basis, it responds by simply exploding.

(If you want to be all technical about it, the bank actually opens its skull-marked door and scatters your change all over the floor, though I can assure you that this is really, really annoying.)

The exploding piggy bank will go on sale this week in Tokyo, with a price tag of $27 or around 3000 yen.

Since the Japanese are always keen to hype the latest fads, the introduction of the exploding piggy bank was met with a surprising amount of fanfare.

At the official press launch last week here in Tokyo, a spokeswomen for TOMY introduced the product with remarkable gusto.

“This is a piggy bank where you have no way but to save,” said the spokeswomen. “We wanted to add some thrill to an act that’s usually painstaking.”

The product is expected to fly off the shelves this holiday season, especially since piggy banks are usually a hot end-of-year item.

As the spokeswoman from TOMY was quick to point out, this is the time when people try to become diligent about adhering to their New Year’s resolutions to spend less money. And of course, children are also keen on putting away the money that they receive from their family for the holidays.

Believe it or not, the piggy bank market is actually big business in Japan. In fact, this isn’t even the first time that TOMY wowed consumers with their innovative products.

This time last year, the company launched a popular piggy bank with a screen showing comic characters that grow older according to the amount the user saved.

Remarkably, the company sold 250,000 units, though they are optimistic that the exploding piggy bank will break this previous mark.

You have to hand it to the Japanese…

I mean, I could never save any money as a kid, mainly because the best part of putting my money in a piggy bank was later bashing the thing open with a hammer.

With that said, check out the awesome photo of the Majapahit terracotta piggy bank, which was built and later smashed for loose change sometime around the 14th century in Trowulan, East Java.

Clearly, I wasn’t the only person to favor aggression over fiscal responsibilty!

** Special thanks to my dad for finding this random bit of Japanese news! **

Big in Japan: The canned coffee taste test

by Matthew Firestone on

December is just around the corner, which means that all of the signs of the winter season are starting to pop up here in Tokyo.

From the falling leaves and hanging Christmas lights to the woolen scarves and hot carafes of sake, you can’t escape the fact that Jack Frost is slowly starting to nip at Japan’s ear.

Of course, the winter chill means one very important thing to caffeine hounds such as myself, namely that the vending machines in the city are starting to carry hot cans of coffee.

Indeed, Japan is home to a convenience culture, which is why it shouldn’t come as a surprise that you can get a can of hot coffee from any vending machine here in Tokyo.

Of course, with so many different varieties and flavors of coffee on offer, you might have trouble deciding exactly which can of coffee will provide the necessary jolt that you need to start your day.

But fear not as today, Big in Japan will be bringing you the first ever canned coffee taste!

So, without further adieu, let the taste test begin:

Georgia Café Au Lait (カフェオレ)

Although I’m not exactly clear how the name Georgia is supposed to bring to mind excellent coffee, I do know that this syrupy sweet mix of coffee and milk packs a powerful sugar boost.

Sadly, coffee aficionados will mourn the lack of a frothy head that makes drinking real café au lait so heavenly, though what do you expect from coffee in a can!

Georgia Emerald Mountain Blend (エメラルドマウンテンブレンド)

I consider myself to be a fairly well traveled person, though I can’t for the life of me figure out where the Emerald Mountains are located on a map of the world.

But, I do know for certain that the lofty heights of this range must produce some great coffee beans, because drinking this little can puts some serious spring in my step.

Boss Rainbow Mountain Blend (レインボームンテンブレンド

Once again, I have no idea where the Rainbow Mountains are located, so either my geography skills must really be inadequate, or perhaps they’re part of the same range as the Emerald Mountains.

What I do know is that your average resident of Rainbow Mountain must have a sweet tooth, because I’m fairly certain that there is more sugar than coffee in this multi-colored can.

Suntory Habanero Soup (ハバネロのスープ)

What foul treachery is this – habanero soup in a coffee can!

Can you imagine the horror I felt after taking a hefty sip of habanero soup at 6:30 in the morning?

Just as the burn began to spread from my lips to my throat, I hung my head in shame and slowly accepted the fact that this was going to be a bad day.

Wonda Morning Shot (モーニングショト)

Before cracking the pop-top and having my morning shot, I’m comforted by the English on the can, which assures me that Wonda is “The coffee with perfect taste to greet every morning.”

Sadly, the perfect taste for greeting every morning is somewhat reminiscent of repeatedly licking a giant metallic spoon.

But what do you expect for 120 yen (US$1)!

On second thought, maybe I’ll stop at Starbucks this morning…

Big in Japan: The history of sake

by Matthew Firestone on

I love sake (o-sake, ?????).

For some, it’s the subtle sophistication of a finely aged scotch whiskey. For others, it’s the enticing froth and savory goodness of a perfectly-poured pint.

For me, it’s the sweet, delicious nectar that is sake.

I mean, how many other drinks out there are the products of centuries of culinary revision? How many other drinks out there are so in tune with the changing of the seasons? How many other drinks out there have been adapted and re-adapted to local tastes time and again?

Wine may have been drunk since antiquity, beer may have been a staple in the Middle Ages and tea may have built empires. But, none of these drinks hits the spot quite like a carafe of ice cold sake on a balmy summer’s eve, or a carafe of gently-warmed sake on a chilly winter’s night.

The history and lore behind this sweet, delicious nectar is worthy of textbooks.

Although the date when sake first hit the scene is fiercely debated by academics, what is agreed upon is that it would not have come about without the ancient discovery of a simple mold known as kōji-kin (Aspergillus oryzae, 麹菌). Used to ferment the starch in rice to make sugar, kōji-kin is the key to making sake, just as it is the key to making miso paste and soy sauce.

By the time the Heian Era (794-1185) rolled around, the art of sake was refined enough to warrant a government-sponsored guild comprised of professional brewers. During the centuries that followed, brewers became increasingly skilled at isolating kōji-kin, pasteurizing their products and creating new types and flavors of sake.

In the early 20th century, the Japanese government opened up a sake-brewing research institute, and started holding annual taste-testing competitions. As a result, the masses took to the drink like never before, ushering in the modern era of sake brewing. Yeast strains were isolated, enamel-coated steel tanks were invented, and sake become exalted as the national alcoholic beverage of Japan.

Although the Second World War put a damper on the festivities, sake made a brief come back in the 1950s. Sadly, this reign was short lived as beer was soon to replace sake as the drink of the masses. Today, beer remains the most popular tipple in Japan, though it doesn’t inspire even a fraction of the respect as does sake or nihonshu (日本酒), the ‘Japan alcoholic beverage.’

Although sake is still making a slow but steady comeback in Japan, the quality of the drink is at an all-time high. In recent years, breweries have begun to shifting away from mass-production, and returning to traditional small-batches brewing methods. And, with the popularity of sake on the rise in North America and Europe, better methods of preservation are being put into practice.

Getting thirsty? So am I.

For more on sake culture, including some delicious recipes you can try at home, see An Ode to Sake.

Big in Japan: The search for the perfect bowl of ramen continues

by Matthew Firestone on

Today, Big in Japan brings you an update on one noodle lover’s countrywide search for Japan’s most perfect bowl of ramen.

I love ramen.

For some, it’s the rich color and briny pop of beluga caviar. For others, it’s the pink tint and soft flesh of fatty tuna belly.

For me, it’s got to be ramen, Nature’s most perfect food.

Since first coming to Japan several years ago, I have been engaged in a tireless quest to find the most perfect bowl of ramen. Like finely aged wine, matured cheese or sun-ripened fruit, good ramen must be appreciated, savored and at all times revered.

Last month, I wrote about the spicy ramen bowl at Two Guy’s Ramen, a neighborhood landmark here in the Nakameguro ward of Tokyo. Although I was quick to grant the title of ‘Most Perfect Bowl of Ramen,’ I may have found a worthy competitor.

For your visual consumption, I will now introduce you to the black sesame ramen bowl (kuroi-goma-ramen; ???????????????????) at Chiyomatsu (????), a small noodle shop just around the corner from Hachiko Plaza in the Shibuya district of Tokyo.

As a self-professed ramen aficionado, there are number of striking features about his particular bowl of ramen.

For starters, admire for a moment the rich ebony hue of the soup broth. Like the addition of squid ink to handmade Italian fettuccine, the black sesame paste is the soaring crescendo in this masterful culinary symphony.

When your spoon first breaks through the surface layer of pork fat, the black sesame paste begins to swirl through the broth like a seething black hole. This awakens the rich aroma of toasted sesame, which merges effortlessly with the heady aromas of miso and soup stock.

And the taste – oh lordy!

Like a heroin junky indulging in a back alley fix, the eyes dilate and the blood starts to flow the moment this sodium-fueled concoction races across your tongue. Health food it ain’t, but few calorie-packed meals comfort the mind and sooth the body quite like this feat of ramen engineering.

Of course, perfection is all in the details, which is why the black sesame ramen bowl at Chiyomatsu is nothing short of a masterpiece.

Like the wood trim on a fine automobile or the sparkling bracelet on a runway model, the latest subject of my affection is all about the accessories. From the addition of the finely shredded saffron and fresh sheets of pressed seaweed to the perfectly soft-boiled egg and cubed pork chuck, this particularly bowl of ramen is just as fashionable as it is delicious.

Chiyomatsu – I salute you. Although my quest for the most perfect bowl of ramen is far from over, the bar has been raised, and my hunger quenched (for the time being).

For more on Nature’s most perfect of foods, check out An Ode to Ramen, a four-part series on the history and culture of this heaven-sent dish.

Bon appetite!