It was as if I was searching for the most opposite place possible from Cambodia. Only a few weeks earlier I was in the Cambodian capital, Phnom Penh, having drinks at the colonial throwback Foreign Correspondents Club where people seemed to remember the "good old days" of British rule. Now entering Tokyo, I was vaulted into an almost sci-fi world of high speed wireless, bullet trains, and rapid-fire Japanese from school girls who seemed to be modelled after dolls.
Even the meals are efficient. My favorite instance was the breakfast of noodle soup that I enjoyed with a collection of Americans and Australians I'd met in my shoebox hostel. To order your meal, you go to the vending machine-looking device outside, peruse the selections, pick the one you want and pay right at the machine. In a few minutes, the cook shouts your number (in Japanese, of course) and you only have to pick it up. Considering what they save on payroll, I wouldn't be surprised if there were entire sit-down restaurants run by machines. A bit impersonal, I suppose, but for a bunch of Japanese-less budget travellers this was quite a find.
The whole thing got me thinking about the difference between a "first world" country and a "third world" country. I'd been told (and quickly observed) that Japan was the only first world country in Asia. But what exactly is the definition?
All the water here is drinkable, while in most of Asia a foreigner needs to drink bottled water only. But that seems a bit too narrow. Perhaps it's something about economic maturity? A quick look at Iceland these days will show that's probably not true.
I decided that it came down to people and machines. In Cambodia, there are a lot of people, but not many skilled enough to make and support elaborate machines. Where as in Japan, it's the people that are in short supply, so they need to invent and modernize to satisfy the demands of all those skilled people. So perhaps that makes "second world" countries are the ones who are going through that transition from labor-excess to labor-scarcity?
Let's return to the machine-ordering restaurant system example. In Cambodia, the same breakfast place might have 10 low paid employees performing the job of the one machine, but at least they have jobs and can feed their families. If they had a machine to take the orders, who would fix it if it broke down? Reminds me of the delay Tom and I had in arriving in Zanzibar - the island had 6 weeks of no power because they had to fly in Norwegian engineers to fix an underwater power cable, the island's only source of mains electricity. Efficiency can take on a new meaning when you carefully consider what you are trying to optimize. It feels like some companies these days have forgotten that lesson.
You Can't Train That
Anyone who has been to Japan can tell you though, even by first world standards, the efficiency is astounding. After a few days of touring and partying in Tokyo, I decided to take the hugely expensive, but uniquely modern-Japanese, experience of the Shinkansen - the bullet train - to Kyoto. Thinking they were like other long-distance trains but faster, I arrived at the station to find that they leave about every 10 minutes.
Can you imagine the engineering and logistical genius that it must take to get so many trains arriving every 10 minutes after travelling 186 mph over the various parts of the 1,528 mile long network? I have a feeling a large part of it is due to the Automatic Train Control system, eliminating the need for signals. After being trapped many times on the London Tube because of signal failures, I can tell you how desirable that system is.
Clearly for me, the wonder of modern Tokyo left the strongest impression. But a collection of other images remain in my mind.
Fresh sushi on a conveyor belt...
A neighborhood full of anime & manga paraphernalia...
...along with the odd person (guy, I think) playing dress-up...
An exhibit of traditional masks at the National Museum...
And amazing signs. Read carefully!
