How Tradition and Kawaii Find Harmony in Japan

Japan is home to a unique hybrid culture. At first glance, you have a country whose motor runs on the fuel of tradition. But blink and Japan’s not-so-underground subculture comes into focus.

On the streets of Tokyo, friends say their goodbyes by bowing, sometimes two or three times in a row, as an ancient show of respect. Meanwhile, advertisements featuring cute creatures tower above them. Sometimes robots sing songs to lure you into restaurants and you begin to notice locals dressed like cartoon characters.

One might think that traditional customs, like removing your shoes at the door or dining without chairs, would fade away among the flashing lights of high-tech Japan. Instead, this happy dichotomy is the very essence of Japanese culture.

One of my first stops in Tokyo was the Harajuku district. I was in high school when I first learned about Harajuku through Gwen Stefani. She sang about the fashion worn by Harajuku girls and gave America a look at Japan's cute culture. Harajuku also inspired Nicki Minaj‘s music and imagery. She emphasized the trend’s bolder characteristics and viewers understood the type of statement it could make. I thought my pop culture education had prepped me for all the cuteness that the Harajuku district could muster; but no. It was very, very, extremely cute.

The Japanese have a word for this in-your-face adorable culture: kawaii. The word kawaii translates to “cute” or “lovable” and the kawaii lifestyle has become a part of Japan’s national identity. The craze began in the 1970s when high school girls incorporated rounded characters and cute drawings into their handwriting.

Advertisers caught on and used the style of writing to market everything from clothing to food. Kawaii’s major marketing power lead to the creation of characters like Hello Kitty. Now the adorable mouthless feline is one of Japan’s tourism ambassadors. It’s clear that in Japan kawaii equals cash.

That very notion is evident on Takeshita Street, the heart of the Harajuku district. Shoppers will find clothes featuring dogs, (I bought two), dinosaurs, (I bought one), and monkeys, (also bought one). Dresses in all colors complete with matching tiaras and scepters are everywhere. Snack options include tiers of rainbow cotton candy and massive deep-fried multi-cheese sticks.

Just outside of Takeshita Street lies a kawaii kingdom. A place created to push the limits of “This is adorable!” so that it brushes up against “This is unbearable.” The Kawaii Monster Cafe looks like monsters took over Wonderland and appointed Willy Wonka as head chef of their restaurant. Booths are rounded and resemble hidden nooks within a magical forest filled with unidentifiable plants and wildlife. The food and drinks are all in theme and there’s even an interactive performance where guests learn a monster dance.

All of this might seem like a lot but the key to enjoying a large intake of kawaii is to just relax and indulge. Loosening up allows you to play along and all of a sudden your surroundings don’t seem so surreal. It’s almost more surreal to leave the Monster Cafe and step back into reality where flashing lights have been replaced with natural sunlight.

After diving deep into kawaii I decided to spend the next day taking a dip in Japan’s traditional onsen culture. Onsens are establishments where the Japanese can enjoy one of the many hot springs the country has to offer. Because of Japan’s geographical location the country has over 27,000 hot springs. Every minute these hot springs pump over 2.6 million liters of water directly into thousands of onsens across Japan.

After learning that Japan has some of the world’s oldest businesses I went straight to the source of onsen culture. Located in Gunma Prefecture the Sekizenkan Ryokan has been operating for more than 300 years. It is said to be the oldest onsen hotel in Japan. The Sekizenkan also gained international notoriety after inspiring the onsen featured in Hayao Miyazaki’s film Spirited Away.

Upon arrival, the sound of rushing hot springs creates a vacuum of serenity that engulfs the onsen grounds. You’re constantly confronted with water. The hot springs outside provide the same water you find in drops running across the ground of the Sekizenkan. Those drops lead you to the onsen area where you pick a spot from one of the six small in-ground pools. Once you’ve submerged yourself in water the process of achieving peacefulness feels complete.

This peace is not achieved through spectacle. The Sekizenkan isn’t flashy or grand. Its exterior is quaint, even beautiful during spring, and its interior isn’t stylized for relaxation like a spa. The reason you feel calm at the Sekizenkan is that peace has resided here for centuries.

Hundreds of years of onsen tradition have infused the very atmosphere with serenity. That energy is palpable in the rushing water that surrounds the onsen. There is almost no better example of Japan’s commitment to tradition than the Sekizenkan Ryokan.

As I travel back to Tokyo I am followed by little reminders of kawaii’s popularity. Backpacks featuring another notable kawaii icon, Pikachu, can be seen on schoolchildren. Oversized cell phone cases resembling bears wearing bows or puppies wearing tutus are a hit with women of all ages. These subtle touches show how ordinary kawaii has become for the people of Japan. By the time I reached Tokyo the intensity of the city’s technicolor lights felt more familiar.

The sound of Shibuya, Tokyo’s business district, is unlike the sound I’m used to in New York City. For example, everything is loud in Times Square; the lights, the music, the people. In Shibuya Crossing it’s the same except the people make almost no noise at all. Most of the sound of Tokyo is made by robots or cartoon characters while the Japanese people go about their routines noiselessly.

I board the train at Shibuya and it takes me to a residential neighborhood called Ogikubo about 20 minutes away. On the walk from the train to my apartment, there is a pathway lined with trees running alongside a funeral home. Halfway through this path is one of Japan's many public shrines. Every time I passed this shrine I was reminded of how commonplace ritual tradition is in Japan.

The next day I took the train to Kyoto, a city often described as Tokyo’s toned-down counterpart. Kyoto’s most recognized landmarks provide major insights into Japanese antiquity. Fushimi Inari distinguishes itself from the many shrines across Japan with a path of thousands of torii gates. From there we made our way to the Arashiyama Bamboo Forest; which is one of those places that looks just as amazing in person as it does in photos.

Sunlight shone perfectly in between the treetops of a tall tunnel of bamboo trees. The beauty of the Bamboo Forest isn’t the only reason these trees have significant meaning. Bamboo grows abundantly in Japan and people were once advised to seek refuge among bamboo trees in the case of an earthquake. There is even an old tale of folklore in which a baby girl is found inside a shining bamboo plant.

I didn’t want to leave Kyoto without a souvenir of the centuries-old culture I was lucky to be experiencing. I spent a day shopping for the perfect Japanese fans to bring back to my parents. The two major categories of fans are uchiwa, which are more rounded fans, and sensu, the quintessential folding fans. I went to Aiba, a small shop that has been making uchiwa fans since the year 1689.

During my research, I learned that fans can send specific messages depending on their color and design. At Aiba, I bought my dad an uchiwa fan in red, (the color of good fortune), with a koi fish design, (a symbol of longevity). Another fantastic fan shop is Miyawaki Baisenan, which is where I bought my mom a sensu fan. The cherry blossom design on the fan represents the love one has for their parents. Learning the history and significance of Japanese fans added a layer of depth to the gifts I brought home. It felt like I had actually participated in this tradition. Several souvenir shopping bags later and I was headed back to Tokyo for my last day in Japan.

I planned a day so full of kawaii that I didn’t even know what was coming. First stop: a coffee shop made to bring your childhood back to life. To enter Hattifnatt one must crouch through the small wooden door. Getting up the stairs is a little difficult but the feeling is meant to be like your beloved backyard treehouse. Young children covering Beatles’ songs played as I sipped a latte with a face and my morning coffee has never been cuter.

After coffee, the Harajuku district called out to me for a second round of shopping. Having successfully bought more cute clothes than necessary I made my way to dinner at the Robot Restaurant. I’m not sure what I was expecting to find but I was very startled by the insane lit-up sign singing “Robot Restaurant.”

Essentially, dancers, drummers and robots put on a variety show with music and full-on pyrotechnics. Machines, humans and anthropomorphic creatures engage in high-stakes battles to save entire worlds. The whole thing is a very big production and the experience sat with me for some time after the show.

A thought struck me during my last late-night meal before heading to the airport: I came to this country determined to get a crash course in Japanese culture. While researching my trip I thought the two values of tradition and kawaii would create a culture of opposition. I pictured an ever-present struggle for dominance between the new and the old, but I was wrong.

The Japanese have seamlessly woven tradition into the fabric of their high-tech kawaii culture. In a restaurant where you catch your own fish, they still give you a wet towel for your hands before you eat. In every clothing store in the Harajuku district, you’re asked to leave your shoes outside the fitting room. And a probiotic milk beverage invented in the 1930s has a mascot known as Yakult Man. He’s a singing and dancing bottle of Yakult. He has an R&B music video and it’s amazing, (link at the bottom).

I marvel at the simple harmony tradition and kawaii have created within Japan. The juxtaposition of these cultures creates two sides of one country. It's clear to me that returning to Japan is going on my to-do list. Thankfully I'll have something to watch until my next visit: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=O8kFfn89t6w&t=7.

Check out my Japan Instagram story to compare and contrast traditional culture and kawaii culture for yourself: click here!

Follow me as I take a tour of traditional Japan below!